Meantime
The purity in dreaming
The mean time as a quarantine
Suppose there is no difference
And phone sex is eternal love
The promise in our yearning
The mean time is a quarantine
And the body parts can mix
And you fail to make her hard
And you'll never found out if this one's love
Once you've dried out a river
And you'll never found out if this one's love
So take my heart in the mean time
Will the next love be the real one
Will the next love be the real one
Our dreams in holding patters
And the mean time is a quarantine
And i'm the one comparing
My having you tonight
And you'll never found out if this one's love
Caressing some other lover
And you'll never found out if this one's love
So take my heart in the mean time
Will the next love be the real one
Will the next love be the real one
In sexual positions
We never got to try and i
I see lovers in the swing door
Entangled, in space
And you'll never found out if this one's love
Once you've dried out a river ?
And you'll never found out if this one's love
So take my heart in the mean time
Will the next love be the real one
Will the next love be the real one
Will the next love be the real one
Will the next love be the real one
Will the next love be the real one
Will the next love be the real one
song performed by Imogen Heap
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Sex & The Church
Though the idea of compassion
Is said to be
The union of christ
And his bride, the christian
Its all very puzzling
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
All the great mystic religions
Put strong emphasis, on
Redeame this spiritual qualities
Of sex of sex
Chrstianity
Has been pretty modern
About sex
Of sex of sex of sex of sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
I think there is a union
Between the flesh and the spirit
Its sex and the church
Sex and the church
All religions mother
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
[...] Read more
song performed by David Bowie
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Book III - Part 03 - The Soul is Mortal
Now come: that thou mayst able be to know
That minds and the light souls of all that live
Have mortal birth and death, I will go on
Verses to build meet for thy rule of life,
Sought after long, discovered with sweet toil.
But under one name I'd have thee yoke them both;
And when, for instance, I shall speak of soul,
Teaching the same to be but mortal, think
Thereby I'm speaking also of the mind-
Since both are one, a substance interjoined.
First, then, since I have taught how soul exists
A subtle fabric, of particles minute,
Made up from atoms smaller much than those
Of water's liquid damp, or fog, or smoke,
So in mobility it far excels,
More prone to move, though strook by lighter cause
Even moved by images of smoke or fog-
As where we view, when in our sleeps we're lulled,
The altars exhaling steam and smoke aloft-
For, beyond doubt, these apparitions come
To us from outward. Now, then, since thou seest,
Their liquids depart, their waters flow away,
When jars are shivered, and since fog and smoke
Depart into the winds away, believe
The soul no less is shed abroad and dies
More quickly far, more quickly is dissolved
Back to its primal bodies, when withdrawn
From out man's members it has gone away.
For, sure, if body (container of the same
Like as a jar), when shivered from some cause,
And rarefied by loss of blood from veins,
Cannot for longer hold the soul, how then
Thinkst thou it can be held by any air-
A stuff much rarer than our bodies be?
Besides we feel that mind to being comes
Along with body, with body grows and ages.
For just as children totter round about
With frames infirm and tender, so there follows
A weakling wisdom in their minds; and then,
Where years have ripened into robust powers,
Counsel is also greater, more increased
The power of mind; thereafter, where already
The body's shattered by master-powers of eld,
And fallen the frame with its enfeebled powers,
Thought hobbles, tongue wanders, and the mind gives way;
All fails, all's lacking at the selfsame time.
Therefore it suits that even the soul's dissolved,
Like smoke, into the lofty winds of air;
[...] Read more
poem by Lucretius
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]
POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR
POEMS
1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song
[...] Read more
poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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Phone Sex
(phone dials and rings)
Girl- hello? tweety-hahaha
Girl- hello? tweety- guess what baby?
Girl-what tweety- I can make you moan on the phone baby.
Girl- oh yeah? tweety- I can make you moan on the phone.
Girl- hahaha tweety- I can make ya moan on the phone baby.
Girl- ok tweety- I can make you moan on the phone
Girl- Im ready. phone sex. (yeah baby.)
Hows about a little phone sex? (Im gonna make it good for you tonight)
Hows about a little phone sex? (Im good with the long distance thing, I like it)
Hows about a little phone sex.(I just wanna make you moan just like you do when Im with
You)
Yo t-low. line 1. take the phone.
T-low- Im sorry baby, I cant be there with you but I got a freaky idea
Cause girl Im in a freaky mood. (oh yeah baby)
So follow directions closely, its gonna be da bomb
And before I let you go darling, Im gonna make you come.
Chorus-hows about a little phone sex? baby girl, if its all right.
Hows about a little phone sex? since we cant hook up tonight.
Hows about a little phone sex? cause you know itll feel so nice.
Hows about a little phone sex? lay back and enjoy the ride.
The real, line 2, nows time to get those fingers wet.
R.l.- touch it baby, you gotta open up.
Just imagine that its me inside, cant you feel real love?
I want you to ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? . scream as loud as you want.
Im chasin you while Im away from you, cant wait till I get home.
Chorus let the real make love to your mind. hows about a little phone sex?
Cmon, its at&t and you and me. hows about a little phone sex?
Baby Im gonna get so nasty. hows about a little phone sex?
Girl all ya gotta do is lose those pants.
Hows about a little phone sex? (time to get real nasty)
When you play with it, use the phone so I can hear it.
Hows about a little phone sex?
Cmon girl. cmon now.
Hows about a little phone sex? yeah, yeah.
Hows about a little phone sex? here it comes baby.
Ohhhhhhhh ohhhhhhhhhhhhh ohhhhhhh.
Im ? ? baby on the phone. ha, yeah.
Oh I can feel it. baby oh, oh, yeah. I dont wanna hurt you.
Baby you like the way it feels when you come so why dont you entertain yourself.
Oh, I know you like it. an oragasm without the back spasm.
song performed by Next
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society
Epigraph
Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.
I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.
You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning (1871)
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VII. Pompilia
I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.
All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.
Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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The Iliad: Book 21
Now when they came to the ford of the full-flowing river Xanthus,
begotten of immortal Jove, Achilles cut their forces in two: one
half he chased over the plain towards the city by the same way that
the Achaeans had taken when flying panic-stricken on the preceding day
with Hector in full triumph; this way did they fly pell-mell, and Juno
sent down a thick mist in front of them to stay them. The other half
were hemmed in by the deep silver-eddying stream, and fell into it
with a great uproar. The waters resounded, and the banks rang again,
as they swam hither and thither with loud cries amid the whirling
eddies. As locusts flying to a river before the blast of a grass fire-
the flame comes on and on till at last it overtakes them and they
huddle into the water- even so was the eddying stream of Xanthus
filled with the uproar of men and horses, all struggling in
confusion before Achilles.
Forthwith the hero left his spear upon the bank, leaning it
against a tamarisk bush, and plunged into the river like a god,
armed with his sword only. Fell was his purpose as he hewed the
Trojans down on every side. Their dying groans rose hideous as the
sword smote them, and the river ran red with blood. As when fish fly
scared before a huge dolphin, and fill every nook and corner of some
fair haven- for he is sure to eat all he can catch- even so did the
Trojans cower under the banks of the mighty river, and when
Achilles' arms grew weary with killing them, he drew twelve youths
alive out of the water, to sacrifice in revenge for Patroclus son of
Menoetius. He drew them out like dazed fawns, bound their hands behind
them with the girdles of their own shirts, and gave them over to his
men to take back to the ships. Then he sprang into the river,
thirsting for still further blood.
There he found Lycaon, son of Priam seed of Dardanus, as he was
escaping out of the water; he it was whom he had once taken prisoner
when he was in his father's vineyard, having set upon him by night, as
he was cutting young shoots from a wild fig-tree to make the wicker
sides of a chariot. Achilles then caught him to his sorrow unawares,
and sent him by sea to Lemnos, where the son of Jason bought him.
But a guest-friend, Eetion of Imbros, freed him with a great sum,
and sent him to Arisbe, whence he had escaped and returned to his
father's house. He had spent eleven days happily with his friends
after he had come from Lemnos, but on the twelfth heaven again
delivered him into the hands of Achilles, who was to send him to the
house of Hades sorely against his will. He was unarmed when Achilles
caught sight of him, and had neither helmet nor shield; nor yet had he
any spear, for he had thrown all his armour from him on to the bank,
and was sweating with his struggles to get out of the river, so that
his strength was now failing him.
Then Achilles said to himself in his surprise, "What marvel do I see
here? If this man can come back alive after having been sold over into
Lemnos, I shall have the Trojans also whom I have slain rising from
the world below. Could not even the waters of the grey sea imprison
him, as they do many another whether he will or no? This time let
him taste my spear, that I may know for certain whether mother earth
[...] Read more
poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Before and After Having Sex
There's more than sex,
I want from you.
And with you,
There is more than sex...
To do!
Before and after having sex.
There's more than sex,
I want from you.
And with you,
There is more than sex...
To do!
Before and after having sex.
When we walk along the beach...
There is a sweet,
Nectar in the air.
We don't need to touch to please.
Or be detoxed...
By the flow of easy listening.
There's nothing we have missing,
But more of this.
Since with us this love we have is a hit.
After striking out and getting over it!
Before and after having sex.
Before and after having sex.
There's more than sex,
I want from you.
And with you,
There is more than sex...
To do!
Before and after having sex.
After mid-day heat.
When the Sun shine starts to blazing.
We sip on lemonaide...
As we welcome the Sunset that comes.
Sitting back and relaxed.
Awaiting something spectacular to be done.
And when we touch there is more to please.
Before and after having sex.
And when we touch there is more to please.
Before and after having sex.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sex Drive
Sit back, relax, enjoy the ride!
Tell the boys in the bank,
Put the gas in my tank,
Polish your skin on my leather,
In which position you rank.
My car is fast, and its big,
Its one heck of a [? ],
Its a beast, get in,
If you know whats best,
Co-wirst the wind,
No backing out,
Concentrate, liberating, escape!
Well?
Sex drive!
Take a ride in my car,
Sex drive!
Impress your friends,
Sex drive!
Take a ride in my car,
Sex drive!
See inside of my eyes,
Sex drive!
Take a ride in my car,
Sex drive!
Impress your friends,
Sex drive!
Take aride in my car.
Excellerate with my spurge,
Fell the engine purr,
Just push the pedal to the metal,
I wanna see you squirm,
Im double esque,
And Im lean, Im one mean machine,
Im a beast, get in if you know whats best!
Well co-wirst the wind and kiss the sky,
No backing out, its satisfying!!
Sex drive!
Take a ride in my car,
Sex drive!
Impress your friends,
Sex drive!
Take a ride in my car,
Sex drive!
See inside of my eyes,
Sex drive!
Take a ride in my car,
Sex drive!
Impress your friends,
Sex drive!
Take aride in my car.
[...] Read more
song performed by Grace Jones
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sex Drive (Dominatrix Mix)
Sit back, relax, enjoy the ride!
Tell the boys in the bank,
Put the gas in my tank,
Polish your skin on my leather,
In which position you rank.
My car is fast, and its big,
Its one heck of a [? ],
Its a beast, get in,
If you know whats best,
Co-wirst the wind,
No backing out,
Concentrate, liberating, escape!
Well?
Sex drive!
Take a ride in my car,
Sex drive!
Impress your friends,
Sex drive!
Take a ride in my car,
Sex drive!
See inside of my eyes,
Sex drive!
Take a ride in my car,
Sex drive!
Impress your friends,
Sex drive!
Take aride in my car.
Excellerate with my spurge,
Fell the engine purr,
Just push the pedal to the metal,
I wanna see you squirm,
Im double esque,
And Im lean, Im one mean machine,
Im a beast, get in if you know whats best!
Well co-wirst the wind and kiss the sky,
No backing out, its satisfying!!
Sex drive!
Take a ride in my car,
Sex drive!
Impress your friends,
Sex drive!
Take a ride in my car,
Sex drive!
See inside of my eyes,
Sex drive!
Take a ride in my car,
Sex drive!
Impress your friends,
Sex drive!
Take aride in my car.
[...] Read more
song performed by Grace Jones
Added by Lucian Velea
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Book III - Part 02 - Nature And Composition Of The Mind
First, then, I say, the mind which oft we call
The intellect, wherein is seated life's
Counsel and regimen, is part no less
Of man than hand and foot and eyes are parts
Of one whole breathing creature. But some hold
That sense of mind is in no fixed part seated,
But is of body some one vital state,-
Named "harmony" by Greeks, because thereby
We live with sense, though intellect be not
In any part: as oft the body is said
To have good health (when health, however, 's not
One part of him who has it), so they place
The sense of mind in no fixed part of man.
Mightily, diversly, meseems they err.
Often the body palpable and seen
Sickens, while yet in some invisible part
We feel a pleasure; oft the other way,
A miserable in mind feels pleasure still
Throughout his body- quite the same as when
A foot may pain without a pain in head.
Besides, when these our limbs are given o'er
To gentle sleep and lies the burdened frame
At random void of sense, a something else
Is yet within us, which upon that time
Bestirs itself in many a wise, receiving
All motions of joy and phantom cares of heart.
Now, for to see that in man's members dwells
Also the soul, and body ne'er is wont
To feel sensation by a "harmony"
Take this in chief: the fact that life remains
Oft in our limbs, when much of body's gone;
Yet that same life, when particles of heat,
Though few, have scattered been, and through the mouth
Air has been given forth abroad, forthwith
Forever deserts the veins, and leaves the bones.
Thus mayst thou know that not all particles
Perform like parts, nor in like manner all
Are props of weal and safety: rather those-
The seeds of wind and exhalations warm-
Take care that in our members life remains.
Therefore a vital heat and wind there is
Within the very body, which at death
Deserts our frames. And so, since nature of mind
And even of soul is found to be, as 'twere,
A part of man, give over "harmony"-
Name to musicians brought from Helicon,-
Unless themselves they filched it otherwise,
To serve for what was lacking name till then.
Whate'er it be, they're welcome to it- thou,
Hearken my other maxims.
[...] Read more
poem by Lucretius
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The Ballad of the White Horse
DEDICATION
Of great limbs gone to chaos,
A great face turned to night--
Why bend above a shapeless shroud
Seeking in such archaic cloud
Sight of strong lords and light?
Where seven sunken Englands
Lie buried one by one,
Why should one idle spade, I wonder,
Shake up the dust of thanes like thunder
To smoke and choke the sun?
In cloud of clay so cast to heaven
What shape shall man discern?
These lords may light the mystery
Of mastery or victory,
And these ride high in history,
But these shall not return.
Gored on the Norman gonfalon
The Golden Dragon died:
We shall not wake with ballad strings
The good time of the smaller things,
We shall not see the holy kings
Ride down by Severn side.
Stiff, strange, and quaintly coloured
As the broidery of Bayeux
The England of that dawn remains,
And this of Alfred and the Danes
Seems like the tales a whole tribe feigns
Too English to be true.
Of a good king on an island
That ruled once on a time;
And as he walked by an apple tree
There came green devils out of the sea
With sea-plants trailing heavily
And tracks of opal slime.
Yet Alfred is no fairy tale;
His days as our days ran,
He also looked forth for an hour
On peopled plains and skies that lower,
From those few windows in the tower
That is the head of a man.
But who shall look from Alfred's hood
[...] Read more
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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Tamar
I
A night the half-moon was like a dancing-girl,
No, like a drunkard's last half-dollar
Shoved on the polished bar of the eastern hill-range,
Young Cauldwell rode his pony along the sea-cliff;
When she stopped, spurred; when she trembled, drove
The teeth of the little jagged wheels so deep
They tasted blood; the mare with four slim hooves
On a foot of ground pivoted like a top,
Jumped from the crumble of sod, went down, caught, slipped;
Then, the quick frenzy finished, stiffening herself
Slid with her drunken rider down the ledges,
Shot from sheer rock and broke
Her life out on the rounded tidal boulders.
The night you know accepted with no show of emotion the little
accident; grave Orion
Moved northwest from the naked shore, the moon moved to
meridian, the slow pulse of the ocean
Beat, the slow tide came in across the slippery stones; it drowned
the dead mare's muzzle and sluggishly
Felt for the rider; Cauldwell’s sleepy soul came back from the
blind course curious to know
What sea-cold fingers tapped the walls of its deserted ruin.
Pain, pain and faintness, crushing
Weights, and a vain desire to vomit, and soon again
die icy fingers, they had crept over the loose hand and lay in the
hair now. He rolled sidewise
Against mountains of weight and for another half-hour lay still.
With a gush of liquid noises
The wave covered him head and all, his body
Crawled without consciousness and like a creature with no bones,
a seaworm, lifted its face
Above the sea-wrack of a stone; then a white twilight grew about
the moon, and above
The ancient water, the everlasting repetition of the dawn. You
shipwrecked horseman
So many and still so many and now for you the last. But when it
grew daylight
He grew quite conscious; broken ends of bone ground on each
other among the working fibers
While by half-inches he was drawing himself out of the seawrack
up to sandy granite,
Out of the tide's path. Where the thin ledge tailed into flat cliff
he fell asleep. . . .
Far seaward
The daylight moon hung like a slip of cloud against the horizon.
The tide was ebbing
From the dead horse and the black belt of sea-growth. Cauldwell
seemed to have felt her crying beside him,
[...] Read more
poem by Robinson Jeffers
Added by Poetry Lover
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Mix Up, Mix Up
Oh lord, oh lord, oh lord, yeah!
Well, its not easy,
Its not easy
Speak the truth, come on, speak. eh, now!
It ever cause it what it will:
He who hide the wrong he did
Surely did the wrong thing still.
Get in the studio of -
Studio of time and experience
Here we experience the good and bad;
What we have, and what we had -
This session (session),
Not just another version (version).
Oh lord, give me a session (session),
Not another version (version)!
Theyre so much stumbling blocks right in-a our way:
Monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, friday;
Theres so much wanting, so much gaining, so much have done.
Too much little mix-up, in the mix-up, yes!
Too much little mix up!
Too much of this mix up - mix up!
I was born in the country, right on top of the hill
I still remain, I know I still, I will-a,
But through your f...in respect and through your false pride
Someone wanna take jah - jah - jah children for a ride!
Shut up! open the gate, and let the saints through.
Please make it a session (session);
Not another version (version);
Ooh, please make it a session (session);
Not another version (version)!
Hey, you been talkin all your mouth full of lies,
Sitting there toppling and, lord, they criticize.
So through the eyes of the fool the deaf is wise,
And through the eyes of the wise the fool is size.
Saying is too much mix up - mix up!
Saying is too much mix up - mix up!
I wanna clear the wheel once and for all;
I wanna clear my wheels, I dont care who fall!
I gotta clear my wheels once and for all;
Clear my wheels, I dont care who fall - fall:
(too much mix-up - mix-up!)
---
/guitar solo/
---
Hey! mr. music, why dont you wanna play?
Dont you know today is a bright holiday? yeah! (holiday)
Some people waiting for the message that you bring,
They listening to every word that youll sing.
Singing: (too much mix-up - mix-up -
(too much little mix up!)
[...] Read more
song performed by Bob Marley
Added by Lucian Velea
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What A Difference Youve Made
What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.
Oh, what a difference youve made
In my life.
What a change you have made in my heart.
What a change you have made in my heart.
You replaced all the broken parts.
Oh, what a change you have made
In my heart.
Love to me was just a word in a song
That had been way overused.
But you gave love a meaning,
So I joined in the singing,
Thats why I wanna spread the news.
What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.
Oh, what a difference youve made,
(what a difference youve made,)
What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.
What a difference youve made.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
What a difference youve made in my life.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Difference youve made in my life.
(youre my sunshine day and night.)
What a difference youve made.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Difference youve made in my life.
(difference youve made in my life.)
Youre my sunshine day and night.
What a difference youve made.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Youve made a difference in me.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Youve made a change in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.
song performed by Amy Grant
Added by Lucian Velea
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The City of Dreadful Night
Per me si va nella citta dolente.
--Dante
Poi di tanto adoprar, di tanti moti
D'ogni celeste, ogni terrena cosa,
Girando senza posa,
Per tornar sempre la donde son mosse;
Uso alcuno, alcun frutto
Indovinar non so.
Sola nel mondo eterna, a cui si volve
Ogni creata cosa,
In te, morte, si posa
Nostra ignuda natura;
Lieta no, ma sicura
Dell' antico dolor . . .
Pero ch' esser beato
Nega ai mortali e nega a' morti il fato.
--Leopardi
PROEM
Lo, thus, as prostrate, "In the dust I write
My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears."
Yet why evoke the spectres of black night
To blot the sunshine of exultant years?
Why disinter dead faith from mouldering hidden?
Why break the seals of mute despair unbidden,
And wail life's discords into careless ears?
Because a cold rage seizes one at whiles
To show the bitter old and wrinkled truth
Stripped naked of all vesture that beguiles,
False dreams, false hopes, false masks and modes of youth;
Because it gives some sense of power and passion
In helpless innocence to try to fashion
Our woe in living words howe'er uncouth.
Surely I write not for the hopeful young,
Or those who deem their happiness of worth,
Or such as pasture and grow fat among
The shows of life and feel nor doubt nor dearth,
Or pious spirits with a God above them
To sanctify and glorify and love them,
Or sages who foresee a heaven on earth.
For none of these I write, and none of these
Could read the writing if they deigned to try;
[...] Read more
poem by James Thomson
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi
Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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D. M. S. R.
Everybody, get on the floor
What the helld u come here 4?
Girl it aint no use, u might as well get loose
Work your body like a whore
Say everybody -- get on the beat
Were gonna show u mothers how 2 scream
People everywhere, loosen up your hair
Take a deeper breath and sing along with me, yes
Are u ready?
Everybody everybody ooh (ooh), alright (alright), dance music sex romance
Oh, everybody say ooh (ooh), alright (alright), dance music sex romance
Everybody (everybody) -- loosen up
Shake it like u just dont care (shake it like u just dont care)
Nevermind your friends, girl it aint no sin
2 strip right down 2 your underwear
I say everybody (everybody) -- screw the masses
We only want 2 have some fun (have some fun)
I say do whatever we want, wear lingerie 2 a restaurant
Police aint got no gun, u dont have 2 run
Everybody ooh (ooh), alright (alright), dance music sex romance
Everybody say ooh (ooh), alright (alright), dance music sex romance, oh
Everybody clap your hands now
All the white people clap your hands on the four now
One two three, one two three, one two three, one two three, listen 2 me
I dont wanna be a poet
cuz I dont wanna blow it
I dont care 2 win awards
All I wanna do is dance
Play music sex romance
And try my best 2 never get bored
If u feel all right lemme hear u scream
Somebody say dance (dance), music (music),
Sex (sex), romance (romance)
Somebody say dance (dance), music (music),
Sex (sex), romance (romance)
Everybody say dance (dance), music (music),
Sex (sex), romance (romance)
Everybody say dance (dance), music (music),
Oh say sex (sex), romance (romance)
Everybody dance (dance), music (music),
Everybody say sex (sex), romance (romance) ((d.m.s.r.))
Everybody dance (dance), music (music),
Sex(sex), romance (romance) ((d.m.s.r.))
Alright
Jamie starrs a thief
Its time 2 fix your clock
Vanity 6 is so sweet
No u can all take a bite of my purple rock, can we stop?
Are u ready? (hey!)
Everybody sing this song now, ooh (ooh), alright (alright),
[...] Read more
song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII (Entire)
Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;
Thine are these orbs of light and shade;
Thou madest Life in man and brute;
Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot
Is on the skull which thou hast made.
Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.
Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou:
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.
Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be:
They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, art more than they.
We have but faith: we cannot know;
For knowledge is of things we see;
And yet we trust it comes from thee,
A beam in darkness: let it grow.
Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence in us dwell;
That mind and soul, according well,
May make one music as before,
But vaster. We are fools and slight;
We mock thee when we do not fear:
But help thy foolish ones to bear;
Help thy vain worlds to bear thy light.
Forgive what seem’d my sin in me;
What seem’d my worth since I began;
For merit lives from man to man,
And not from man, O Lord, to thee.
Forgive my grief for one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair.
I trust he lives in thee, and there
I find him worthier to be loved.
Forgive these wild and wandering cries,
[...] Read more
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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