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Punks Rock

I want my french-fries, I need my french-fries
I want my french-fries, I need my french-fries
I want my french-fries, my french-fries, my french-fries
I want my french-fries, french-fries
I want my ketchup, I need my ketchup
I want my french-fries with the ketchup, and salt and salt and ketchup
I want my french-fries, french-fries

song performed by P.O.D.
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Great Stealth-burger Caper

A head cold had settled in with a vengeance.
After a couple of days at home I felt stir crazy.
Was it time to go somewhere, maybe a movie?

A quick glance at Arts & Entertainment section
and we made our choice of movies playing at our
favorite theater.

We jumped in the car and headed to the cinema.
“Haven’t eaten all day lets get a burger” I said.
“We don’t have enough time to stop to eat, lets
get something at the theater” Laureen replied.

“Nope, too expensive and the food is crappy anyway.
Let’s get some burgers to go and sneak them into the theater”

“What? ” You know they don’t let people take in food”
“Yeah, so they don’t need to know, right? ”

We wheeled into “Cruisers” a 50’s throwback diner.
You know the kind with old pictures of Elvis and Marilyn,
hanging on the walls and black & white checkerboard floors.

Cruisers make great burgers cheap (volume...Over a zillion sold) .
Thin patties, shredded lettuce, onions, tomatoes, pickles
and fresh sesame buns. Burgers better than the guys
with the “Golden Arches” or “flame broiled” belly busters.

It was 30 minutes before show time, but we were in luck.
Things were going well because we arrived 15 minutes before noon.
The movie gods were with us…
Just as we placed our order, people started lining up behind us.

“Two regular burgers with the works and mustard dressing please”
“Want fries with your burgers”
“Nope” I said hurriedly.

Laureen placed her order,
“One regular burger with everything except onions and an order of fries.”
“Do you want curly, regular, tatter tots or steak fries? ”
“Uh, I’ll take the steak fries please”
“Anything to drink? ”
“No thanks, just a cup for water (she wasn’t about to let me drink from her water bottle) .
We looked at each other as we sat down holding
our plastic tent with a black number 3 on it.

“Uh, how are we going to smuggle in that much food”, laureen asked.
“In your purse” I answered with a clueless grin on my face.
“Are you kidding, it’s already full and besides my water bottle is in it”
“I’ll put the water bottle in my back pocket”

[...] Read more

poem by Ray Lucero
Added by Poetry Lover
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If French Fries Were Fat Free

Will I need a miss of my life
Each time I went left, I should've gone right
And love's no exception to this rule
Cause I turned around I lost you
Now I'm feeling lonesome and blue
Just the way I expect to
But there's something that I could use
To help me deal with this abuse
If French fries were fat free
And you still love me
If French fries were fat free
And you still love me
What a wonderful world this would be
If the whiskey really helped me
Forget your memory
I'd wear a smile endlessly
If French fries were fat free
And you still love me
You know the more I think about you
The more sense it makes
Cause grease and love both cause heartache
So I raise my glass and toast
These things I want the most
Though I probably never see
I can't help but believing
That if French fries were fat free
And you still love me
What a wonderful world this would be
If the whiskey really helped me
Forget your memory
I'd wear a smile endlessly
If French fries were fat free
And you still love me
Oh if French fries were fat free
And you still love me

song performed by Alan Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
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Now I Need You

You parting words still echo clear on the day you left me
If you need me Ill be there, you said youd always help me
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
L cant seem to satisfy anyone around me
You hold my hand and see me through
All the things that bound me
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Im calling you now (oh now I need you)
Calling you now (oh how I need you)
Please come to me now
I need you
I need you (oh how l need you)
I need you (oh how I need you)
I need you (oh how I need you)
I need you (oh how I need you)
Oh how I need you, oh how I need you
Having learned to live with you
Its hard to live without you
You always said if I were down,
To cheer me you would be around
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Now l need you, l need you, l need you, l need you
L need you, l need you right now
Im calling you now
(oh how I need you)
Calling you now
(oh how I need you)
Please come to me now
(oh how I need you)
Please come to me now
(oh how I need you) I need you now
(oh how I need you)

song performed by Donna Summer
Added by Lucian Velea
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02-04-2012 Brother I give you my answer for Black People African Sahara it mesmerizes the wise largest desert it is asked of we What is Africa is to me 3.3 million miles of grea

Brother I give you my answer
for Black People

African Sahara
it mesmerizes the wise
largest desert
it is asked of we
What is Africa is to me
3.3 million miles
of great desert
once a forest
once a great sea
once an empty hole
in space just waiting
to be that it can
birth the blackness
of who my mothers be
3.3 millions
you can not see it all
Trans Saharan trade
is but a child
weather selling slaves
or selling salt
and always
brought and sold
the black man's art, gold
the paintings
was still for the walls
to surround us
a representation of the thing
that be, the God that
rose Africa from the sea
man got his
walking feet
on Africa's soil
Africa Moors
salt caravans
Africa the salt
of the land
what more did Africa
give to man
gold first mimed
found its glow
in the hands of
a black child
oldest gold jewelry
in Queen Zer's tomb
being as old as this
there is nothing
that we can not do

[...] Read more

poem by David E. Patton
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Sir Peter Harpdon's End

In an English Castle in Poictou. Sir Peter Harpdon, a Gascon knight in the English service, and John Curzon, his lieutenant.

John Curzon

Of those three prisoners, that before you came
We took down at St. John's hard by the mill,
Two are good masons; we have tools enough,
And you have skill to set them working.

Sir Peter

So-
What are their names?

John Curzon

Why, Jacques Aquadent,
And Peter Plombiere, but-

Sir Peter

What colour'd hair
Has Peter now? has Jacques got bow legs?

John Curzon

Why, sir, you jest: what matters Jacques' hair,
Or Peter's legs to us?

Sir Peter

O! John, John, John!
Throw all your mason's tools down the deep well,
Hang Peter up and Jacques; they're no good,
We shall not build, man.

John Curzon

going.

Shall I call the guard
To hang them, sir? and yet, sir, for the tools,
We'd better keep them still; sir, fare you well.

[...] Read more

poem by William Morris
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Need Ya

I used to be a very carefree man,
A loving man of the world.
Yeah, I would still be except for the time
When I met ya, little girl.
Say, I've tried and I've tried but I just can't.
You sure got a hold on me.
Ah, your good, good lovin' is makin' me faint,
Mama, please don't set me free.
Because I need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
(Need ya, need ya)
Oh, need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
(Need ya, need ya)
You got that kinda air that drives me insane
And sometime ya sure got me new.
Ah, sometimes I feel like knockin' you down,
But I would never pull that scene.
Though I get tired, I know that you know
That I'd never do you wrong.
'Cause when it's late and I feel down, turn the lights on low
And I will hold things in my soul.
'Cause I need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
(Need ya, need ya)
I'm gonna need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
(Need ya, need ya)
Yeah ... ooh yeah.
Ah, need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
(Need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya)
You know I need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
(Need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya)
Yeah, oh, oh, need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
(Need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya)
Oh yeah, need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya, yeah.
Oh, ... (Need ya, need ya, need ya, need ya )
Oh, ... (Need ya, need ya, need ya , need ya)

song performed by Bob Seger
Added by Lucian Velea
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Ode to Salt

This salt
in the salt cellar
I once saw in the salt mines.
I know
you won't
believe me
but
it sings
salt sings, the skin
of the salt mines
sings
with a mouth smothered
by the earth.
I shivered in those
solitudes
when I heard
the voice
of
the salt
in the desert.
Near Antofagasta
the nitrous
pampa
resounds:
a
broken
v oice,
a mournful
song.

In its caves
the salt moans, mountain
of buried light,
translucent cathedral,
crystal of the sea, oblivion
of the waves.
And then on every table
in the world,
salt,
we see your piquant
powder
sprinkling
vital light
upon
our food.
Preserver
of the ancient
holds of ships,
discoverer
on

[...] Read more

poem by Pablo Neruda
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The Battle of Waterloo

'Twas in the year 1815, and on the 18th day of June,
That British cannon, against the French army, loudly did boom,
Upon the ever memorable bloody field of Waterloo;
Which Napoleon remembered while in St. Helena, and bitterly did rue.
The morning of the 18th was gloomy and cheerless to behold,
But the British soon recovered from the severe cold
That they had endured the previous rainy night;
And each man prepared to burnish his arms for the coming fight.

Then the morning passed in mutual arrangements for battle,
And the French guns, at half-past eleven, loudly did rattle;
And immediately the order for attack was given,
Then the bullets flew like lightning till the Heaven's seemed riven.

The place from which Bonaparte viewed the bloody field
Was the farmhouse of La Belle Alliance, which some protection did yield;
And there he remained for the most part of the day,
Pacing to and fro with his hands behind him in doubtful dismay.

The Duke of Wellington stood upon a bridge behind La Haye,
And viewed the British army in all their grand array,
And where danger threatened most the noble Duke was found
In the midst of shot and shell on every side around.

Hougemont was the key of the Duke of Wellington's position,
A spot that was naturally very strong, and a great acqusition
To the Duke and his staff during the day,
Which the Coldstream Guards held to the last, without dismay.

The French 2nd Corps were principally directed during the day
To carry Hougemont farmhouse without delay;
So the farmhouse in quick succession they did attack,
But the British guns on the heights above soon drove them back.

But still the heavy shot and shells ploughed through the walls;
Yet the brave Guards resolved to hold the place no matter what befalls;
And they fought manfully to the last, with courage unshaken,
Until the tower of Hougemont was in a blaze but still it remained untaken.

By these desperate attacks Napoleon lost ten thousand men,
And left them weltering in their gore like sheep in a pen;
And the British lost one thousand men-- which wasn't very great,
Because the great Napoleon met with a crushing defeat.

The advance of Napoleon on the right was really very fine,
Which was followed by a general onset upon the British line,
In which three hundred pieces of artillery opened their cannonade;
But the British artillery played upon them, and great courage displayed.

For ten long hours it was a continued succession of attacks;

[...] Read more

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Cleanness

Clannesse who so kyndly cowþe comende
& rekken vp alle þe resounz þat ho by ri3t askez,
Fayre formez my3t he fynde in for[þ]ering his speche
& in þe contrare kark & combraunce huge.
For wonder wroth is þe Wy3þat wro3t alle þinges
Wyth þe freke þat in fylþe fol3es Hym after,
As renkez of relygioun þat reden & syngen
& aprochen to hys presens & prestez arn called;
Thay teen vnto his temmple & temen to hym seluen,
Reken with reuerence þay rychen His auter;
Þay hondel þer his aune body & vsen hit boþe.
If þay in clannes be clos þay cleche gret mede;
Bot if þay conterfete crafte & cortaysye wont,
As be honest vtwyth & inwith alle fylþez,
Þen ar þay synful hemself & sulped altogeder
Boþe God & His gere, & hym to greme cachen.
He is so clene in His courte, þe Kyng þat al weldez,
& honeste in His housholde & hagherlych serued
With angelez enourled in alle þat is clene,
Boþ withine & withouten in wedez ful bry3t;
Nif he nere scoymus & skyg & non scaþe louied,
Hit were a meruayl to much, hit mo3t not falle.
Kryst kydde hit Hymself in a carp onez,
Þeras He heuened a3t happez & hy3t hem her medez.
Me mynez on one amonge oþer, as Maþew recordez,
Þat þus clanness vnclosez a ful cler speche:
Þe haþel clene of his hert hapenez ful fayre,
For he schal loke on oure Lorde with a bone chere';
As so saytz, to þat sy3t seche schal he neuer
Þat any vnclannesse hatz on, auwhere abowte;
For He þat flemus vch fylþe fer fro His hert
May not byde þat burre þat hit His body ne3en.
Forþy hy3not to heuen in haterez totorne,
Ne in þe harlatez hod, & handez vnwaschen.
For what vrþly haþel þat hy3honour haldez
Wolde lyke if a ladde com lyþerly attyred,
When he were sette solempnely in a sete ryche,
Abof dukez on dece, with dayntys serued?
Þen þe harlot with haste helded to þe table,
With rent cokrez at þe kne & his clutte traschez,
& his tabarde totorne, & his totez oute,
Oþer ani on of alle þyse, he schulde be halden vtter,
With mony blame ful bygge, a boffet peraunter,
Hurled to þe halle dore & harde þeroute schowued,
& be forboden þat bor3e to bowe þider neuer,
On payne of enprysonment & puttyng in stokkez;
& þus schal he be schent for his schrowde feble,
Þa3neuer in talle ne in tuch he trespas more.
& if vnwelcum he were to a worþlych prynce,
3et hym is þe hy3e Kyng harder in her euen;

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Americas
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The Man Who Dipped His Fingers In Salt And Lick Them All

he dips his fingers in
salt and licks them all

people look at him with
all surprise
he is weird and they do not
like him
He is detestable
they say

he does this everyday
all the days of the week
all the weeks of months
all the months of those years

the people shut him away
they close their doors
they vomit when they see him
they look at him with contempt
they throw him away from
their cities
they ban him from all
other countries

he keeps the salt all to himself
he eats them and drinks them all
he has become sick
very sick like one rusty nail

he died and people did not
mourn for him
good riddance so to say
the city dances in jubilation
the world turns into a fourth of july

if they only knew him
well that i know him to be
they should have known how
he disliked salt
how all his senses revolt
against this instinct
of having his fingers dip
in salt
and of his having his tongue
lick
and how his mouth eats
all the stuff that
destroys his body
how every night he vomits
how his system fails

[...] Read more

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Canto the Second

I
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
I pray ye flog them upon all occasions,
It mends their morals, never mind the pain:
The best of mothers and of educations
In Juan's case were but employ'd in vain,
Since, in a way that's rather of the oddest, he
Became divested of his native modesty.

II
Had he but been placed at a public school,
In the third form, or even in the fourth,
His daily task had kept his fancy cool,
At least, had he been nurtured in the north;
Spain may prove an exception to the rule,
But then exceptions always prove its worth -—
A lad of sixteen causing a divorce
Puzzled his tutors very much, of course.

III
I can't say that it puzzles me at all,
If all things be consider'd: first, there was
His lady-mother, mathematical,
A—never mind; his tutor, an old ass;
A pretty woman (that's quite natural,
Or else the thing had hardly come to pass);
A husband rather old, not much in unity
With his young wife—a time, and opportunity.

IV
Well—well, the world must turn upon its axis,
And all mankind turn with it, heads or tails,
And live and die, make love and pay our taxes,
And as the veering wind shifts, shift our sails;
The king commands us, and the doctor quacks us,
The priest instructs, and so our life exhales,
A little breath, love, wine, ambition, fame,
Fighting, devotion, dust,—perhaps a name.

V
I said that Juan had been sent to Cadiz -—
A pretty town, I recollect it well -—
'T is there the mart of the colonial trade is
(Or was, before Peru learn'd to rebel),
And such sweet girls—I mean, such graceful ladies,
Their very walk would make your bosom swell;
I can't describe it, though so much it strike,
Nor liken it—I never saw the like:

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Need Your Loving

I need your loving
I need your kissing, baby
I need your loving
I need your kissing, baby
Moonlit sky casts shadows down
Romance in the air is strong
Somethings telling me
I need your love
I need your loving
I need your kissing, baby
And thats a fact
I need your loving
I need your kissing, baby
Where are you at?
Looking glass reflects the moon
Your loves missing from this room
Baby, now I see
I need your love
I need your loving
I need your kissing, baby
And thats a fact
I need your loving
I need your kissing, baby
Where are you at?
I need your loving
I need your love
I need your kissing, baby
And thats a fact
I need your loving
I need your love
I need your kissing, baby
Where are you at?
Oh, I need your love
I need you tonight
Cant do without
Oh, I need your love
Oh, I need your love
So I can hug
And squeeze you tight
Oh, I need your love
Oh, I need your love
I need you tonight
Cant do without
Oh, I need your love
Oh, I need your love
So I can hug
And squeeze you tight
Oh, I need your love
Baby
Come on home to me

[...] Read more

song performed by Human League
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Salt In My Tears

Ive tried and Ive tried for so long to please you
Gave you every bit of my time
Gave you everything I could possibly give you
My body, my heart, and my mind
I turned my family and good friends against me
Listened to my own heart break
And I did it all in the name of love
Gave up myself for your sake
And you never cared about me
You only hurt and deceive
I realize after all of these years
That you aint worth the salt in my tears
Youve cheated, youve lied and youve hurt me
Over and over again
You promised to love me forever
But forever reached a bitter sweet end
Been blinded by love to your actions
But at last I can see my way clear
Ive cried and Ive tried, and Ive tried and Ive cried
But you, youve never shed one tear
cause you never cared about me
You only hurt and deceive
I realize after all of these years
That you aint worth the salt in my tears
You aint worth, you aint worth the salt in my tears
Treated like dirt, Im hurt, I aint hangin round here
Youve left me crying, left me crying for years
But you aint worth the salt in my tears
You never cared about me
You only hurt and decieve
I realize after all of these years
That you aint worth the salt in my tears
No you aint worth the salt in my tears

song performed by Dolly Parton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Nothing Is Wrong

Well how do you do?
Do you like the look of me and you together?
So take me out.
Spill a little drink on your lap
She said to me so deep inside
I'm thinkin' that I'm an extra special guy
Takin' it all with an extra pinch of salt
My friends seem to think that I'm the one now
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't try...
Well how do you do?
Would you like me to mm, mm, mm-mm, mmmmmm....
I'm not suggesting that I want you, but
I'll take you out,
Spill a little drink down my back and,
She said to me so deep inside
I'm thinkin' that I'm an extra special guy
Takin' it all with an extra pinch of salt
My friends seem to think that I'm the one now
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't try...
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't try...
Too much, too soon.
Are you made out of stone,
or are you made out of gold?
I'll be no clearer
when I'm wrinkled and old,
when I'm wrinkled and old.
She said to me so deep inside
I'm thinkin' that I'm an extra special guy
Takin' it all with an extra pinch of salt
My friends seem to think that I'm the one now
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't drive you home.
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't try...Nothing Is Wrong
Well how do you do?
Do you like the look of me and you together?
So take me out.
Spill a little drink on your lap
She said to me so deep inside
I'm thinkin' that I'm an extra special guy
Takin' it all with an extra pinch of salt
My friends seem to think that I'm the one now
You're only teasin' me now.
I'm not so laid back that I wouldn't try...
Well how do you do?
Would you like me to mm, mm, mm-mm, mmmmmm....
I'm not suggesting that I want you, but

[...] Read more

song performed by Gomez
Added by Lucian Velea
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Bull Session With The big Daddy

Well are we on?
Yeah well were kinda on
We just introduce earl leaf so
Earl tree
Hi fig
Food
You get my cheese sandwich?
Gimme
Uh huh they had ham
Did you get a malt?
Didnt bring any malts
Whatd you get us?
A burger I mean cheese heres cheese
Oh its mine
Did you order one?
No Im kidding
Whatd you get me?
Mike Im gonna take a bite pretty quick
Oh thank you
I wouldve rather had that
No thats all wrong
Hey theres onions on this so I hope all you guys dont mind
Hi earl
Heres some french fries you can all split
Oh theres kosher pickles
Thank you for the french fries Im really uh
Everythings gonna be alright marylin
Thank you
Oops okay why dont earl talk to brian
You stepped on my french fries
Now after the concert in paris
Concert?
Which was a blast
You mean that that big ol thing
That was a musically
I loved that conce that was the best concert
I had a lot of fun
It was great
I thought it was our best show we ever played
Its great
I thought it I liked it almost
First show I only made three mistakes
I still havent made a mistake my whole career
Were keep waiting for you to make a mistake brian
Where was this place we had the lamb wherever it was
Oh that banquet we had
Yeah
Yeah they brough in this big ol lamb and dennis and I had to sit there
Holding it up
Yeah but it had its you know they cooked the whole lamb and put its raw

[...] Read more

song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Need You

Dont need a roller or a limousine
I don't need my picture in a magazine
I don't need approval from a chosen few
Tell you what I do need, I need you
Don't need no fixtures or feelings of home
I'm so unfurnished, I'm on my own
I don't need reminding when the rent is due
Tell you what I do need, I need you
I need you like a fly needs a plane
I need you like a ball needs a game
I need you like a pool needs a cue
I need you, need you, need you, I need you
I don't need no covered kisses for company
I don't want no washed up dishes soft soapin' me
I don't need no Cinderella in high-heeled shoes
I tell you what I do need, I need you
I need you like a fly needs a plane
I need you like a ball needs a game
I need you like a shot needs to shoot
I need you, need you, need you, I need you
I need you, need you, need you, I need you
Said I want you (I need you)
I need you, need you, need you, I need you
But I want, I want you (I need you)
Yes, I need (I need you)
I need you, need you, need you, I need you
I want you, want you, want you (I need you)

song performed by Paul Carrack
Added by Lucian Velea
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Not Ashamed Of Being Ashamed

Some Frenchmen are ashamed of being French,
while others are ashamed that those who are ashamed aren’t proud;
though nowadays it’s hard to be a mensch,
it’s harder to oppose opinions of the madding crowd,
as well as those espoused by the elite,
which turns a blind eye to the problems of identity,
opining that a nation should backbeat
traditions and become an obsolete nonentity.

Devorah Lauter writes an article about French identity politics in the LA Times, December 14,2009 (“As the French debate their identity, some recoil”) . The allusion to the Swiss minaret poll brings to mind my poem “Swiss Minarets, ” which Huffpo chose not to put on its blog. Lauter writes:
It was one of a series of government-run public debates aimed at defining the values that constitute French national identity. But in this middle-class suburb west of Paris, the discussion last week quickly turned into a cacophony of hot-tempered accusations. Rather than give his version of what it means to be French, an invited speaker, historian Jean-Yves Mollier, attacked his host (who sat stone-still a few feet in front of him) for supporting the national dialogue. Mollier said the ongoing debates represent none other than Vichy-style propaganda attempting to 'stigmatize' those who don't fall into France's ruling native caste, in this case mostly French Muslims of immigrant origin. Mollier and several other attendees proceeded to walk out. Meanwhile, two actors disguised as avid participants launched into a faux back-and-forth. 'Today, I'm ashamed of being French! ' said one of the men, standing up to be heard. The other, jumping to his feet, replied, 'Excuse me, but I'm proud of being French, and you, you should be ashamed of being proud of being ashamed of France! ' 'It's a shame for France! ' shouted back the first. 'I'm proud of the shame I feel for people like you who are ashamed of being French! ' cried the second. In the crowd, one middle-aged man's face turned the color of his pink shirt. He termed the scene 'disgraceful.' Host Anne Boquet, the local police chief, expressed her hope that the dialogue would 'remind people of their Republican values and to respect authority.'

'The debates can introduce that respect, ' she said, and help 'define the face of France we like today.' That, it seems, may be a long way off. The 3-month-long national debate series, spearheaded by conservative President Nicolas Sarkozy and his minister of immigration, has been the subject of heated controversy since a late November vote in Switzerland to ban the construction of minarets on mosques. Sympathy for the Swiss vote here, according to polls, has helped focus the debates, which began in November, on widely held demands that Muslims do more to blend into French society. Polls show that a small majority in France favor a ban on minarets like the one the Swiss approved with a 57.5% majority.

12/14/09

poem by Gershon Hepner
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Monkberry Moon Delight

So I sat in the attic,
A piano at my nose,
And the wind played a dreadful cantata (cantata...).
Sore was I from the crack of an enemys hose,
And the horrible sound of tomato (tomato...).
Ketchup (ketchup)
Soup and puree (soup and puree),
Dont get left behind (get left behind)...
When a rattle of rats had awoken,
The sinews, the nerves and the veins.
My piano was boldly outspoken, in attempts to repeat its refrain.
So I stood with a knot in my stomach,
And I gazed at that terrible sight
Of two youngsters concealed in a barrel,
Sucking monkberry moon delight.
Monkberry moon delight,
Monkberry moon delight.
Well, I know my banana is older than the rest,
And my hair is a tangled beretta.
When I leave my pajamas to billy budapest,
And I dont get the gist of your letter (your letter...).
Catch up! (catch up),
Cats and kittens (cats and kittens),
Dont get left behind (get left behind)...
Monkberry moon delight...
Monkberry moon delight...

song performed by Paul McCartney
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Storm

A big storm is hitting the eastern seaboard of North America,
it has just hit Cuba and other little island; fifty people killed,
but we didn´t get an intensive coverage as we get now.
By all means it is an immense storm and no doubt America feels
it doesn´t deserve this and there is no one to drones to attack
for this onslaught on Americas’ soil. Yes, we can build walls we
can built fortresses in the hope of being safe from the world,
but in the eye of a storm by nature or a storm caused by lack of
justice and freedom, the storm will be equally furious those
storms will, if we are lucky, clean our corrupt social system,
we call democracy- a practice that gives the right of the rich to
exploit the poor and obscenely try to make the neediest enjoy
slavery of being consumers, where going to the mall is highlight
of the week… Meanwhile the storm blows and if two tramps would
be killed or two seamen drown, every TV channel in the world will
record their demise and there will be a charity in their name;
“we shall not forget their suffering.” But as water retreats and
hamburger joints opens- The past, in our world, has no memory,
it is about mustard or ketchup; and it is quite easy really,
the red little bag is tomato ketchup and the yellow bag is mustard.

poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Hind And The Panther, A Poem In Three Parts : Part III.

Much malice, mingled with a little wit,
Perhaps may censure this mysterious writ;
Because the muse has peopled Caledon
With panthers, bears, and wolves, and beasts unknown,
As if we were not stocked with monsters of our own.
Let Æsop answer, who has set to view
Such kinds as Greece and Phrygia never knew;
And Mother Hubbard, in her homely dress,
Has sharply blamed a British lioness;
That queen, whose feast the factious rabble keep,
Exposed obscenely naked, and asleep.
Led by those great examples, may not I
The wonted organs of their words supply?
If men transact like brutes, 'tis equal then
For brutes to claim the privilege of men.
Others our Hind of folly will indite,
To entertain a dangerous guest by night.
Let those remember, that she cannot die,
Till rolling time is lost in round eternity;
Nor need she fear the Panther, though untamed,
Because the Lion's peace was now proclaimed;
The wary savage would not give offence,
To forfeit the protection of her prince;
But watched the time her vengeance to complete,
When all her furry sons in frequent senate met;
Meanwhile she quenched her fury at the flood,
And with a lenten salad cooled her blood.
Their commons, though but coarse, were nothing scant,
Nor did their minds an equal banquet want.
For now the Hind, whose noble nature strove
To express her plain simplicity of love,
Did all the honours of her house so well,
No sharp debates disturbed the friendly meal.
She turned the talk, avoiding that extreme,
To common dangers past, a sadly-pleasing theme;
Remembering every storm which tossed the state,
When both were objects of the public hate,
And dropt a tear betwixt for her own children's fate.
Nor failed she then a full review to make
Of what the Panther suffered for her sake;
Her lost esteem, her truth, her loyal care,
Her faith unshaken to an exiled heir,
Her strength to endure, her courage to defy,
Her choice of honourable infamy.
On these, prolixly thankful, she enlarged;
Then with acknowledgments herself she charged;
For friendship, of itself an holy tie,
Is made more sacred by adversity.
Now should they part, malicious tongues would say,
They met like chance companions on the way,

[...] Read more

poem by John Dryden
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