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When You Wish Upon A Star

dreams come true (dreams come true)
dreams come true (oh oh, oh yeah)
dreams come true (na, na na, na na)
they do (they do)
when you (when you)...
When you wish upon a star, (a star,) makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires will come to you (it will come to you)
If your heart is in your dreams, (your dreams) no request is too extreme
When you wish upon a star as dreamers do (ooh ooh).
(Oh, Fate is...is kind...)Fate is kind, she brings (she brings) to those who love
The sweet fulfillment of their secret longing
(oh oh oh. like...) Like a boat out of the blue, Fate steps in and sees you thru
When you wish upon a star, your dream comes true
When you wish upon a star, your dream comes true
dreams come, dreams come, dreams come true
dreams come, dreams come, dreams come true
(and they don't stop) dreams come, dreams come, dreams come true
(make a wish and) dreams come, (your dreams...) dreams come, (your dreams come...) dreams come true

song performed by N Sync
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Spices

Of the spices of life,
Of the spices of love,
Of the spices of peace,
Of the spices of my mind,
Life in Africa maters to me lot.
Of Black Cumin,
Of Red Peppercorns,
Of Black Mustard,
Of Cayenne Pepper,
Of White Mustard,
Of Mixed Peppercorns,
Of Mahaleb Cherry,
Of Szechuan pepper,
Almost everybody is with a mobile phone in Africa!
But strong alcohol are consumed daily by the majority unemployed.
In Africa,
My mind sits and writes;
Because, life in Africa matters to me a lot.
Of Coriander, Ground Ginger, Fenugreek, Turmeric and Paprika!
Like the struggles daily in Africa for a survival;

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poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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In Your Wildest Dream

Oh baby, oh baby
The sun goes down and the moon comes up
My heart is pumping for you, and the mad thing starts yeah
Ohho..yeah, never in your wildest dreams
did you ever get this feeling
never in your wildest dreams, oh no
never in your wildest dreams could it ever be this easy,
never in your wildest dreams, oh no
Oh baby, oh baby
The night is hot outside your window
I hear people walking, people talking
I smell your skin, I feel you breathing
don't let me go, not yet, not yet, not yet
Ohho..yeah, never in your wildest dreams
did you ever get this feeling
never in your wildest dreams, oh..oh
never in your wildest dreams did it ever get this easy,
never in your wildest dreams, oh
Oh baby, oh baby
The world is slowly turning,

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song performed by Tina Turner
Added by Lucian Velea
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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

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poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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No Matter What The Weather Shows

I've got you.
You've got me.
And we've got...
Dreams.

I've got you.
You've got me.
And we've got...
Our dreams.

Together we can conquer,
With our dreams.
Together we can make it,
With our dreams.
Together life is better,
With our dreams.

And I've got you.
You know you've got me.
And together...

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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All My Dreams

All my dreams
All my dreams, all my dreams
I'll see U 2night in all my dreams
All my dreams
My spirit's in flight in all my dreams
All my dreams
A submarine valiantly conquers a virgin sea
A child is born, a child is born, will U marry me?
I'll teach U 2night (2night, 2night) in all my dreams
All my dreams
U'll be so surprised (surprised, surprised) at things U'll see
All my dreams
Africa, Cap'n Crunch, Norma Jean, Sex and Cheerio's
Play my record double speed, feel the climax fit 4 a king
Just fun, nothing ethereal
Here ye, here ye, one and all
That the double speed playhouse is making a call
Welcome, this is where I live
This is where I dream my dreams
2night we'll make love until the world stops turning

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song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fall Into Sleep

Dreams of earthquakes
Dreams of hurricanes
Dreams of pouring rain
Dreams of tidal waves (wash us all away)
Dreams of guns blaze
Dreams of fire rage
Dreams of swollen graves
Dreams of hollow pain
All gone
No more fallen
No more enemy
No more casualty
No more dream
Fall into sleep
Fall into me
I have a dream
But nobody cares, nobody wants to listen
Fall into sleep
Fall into me
Hang on to a dream

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song performed by Mudvayne
Added by Lucian Velea
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Catching The Butterfly

As though you were born
As though you were born
And so you thought
And so you thought
The futures ours
The futures ours
To keep and hold
To keep and hold
A child within
A child within
Has healing ways
Has healing ways
It sees me through
It sees me through
My darkest days
My darkest days
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
In that dream of mine
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly
Im gonna keep catching that butterfly

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song performed by Verve
Added by Lucian Velea
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from 'Ragas For Krishna' Part 2

from 'Ragas For Krishna' Part 2

I have been encouraging Krishna (which is a funny thing to say, Krishna being a bold, blue God) to find a language coach to help him with his accent, to tone it down while keeping the wonderful music/lilt of it...he complains of tilting his head as he talks 'as all Indians do' but I insist he merely speak and let his head and hands speak, too, in their own way. If he does more public events he will need to be understood clearly when he speaks while preparing his magnificent dishes from his country, his rich feasts of stories of the chilies from his mother's garden entwined by morning glories, the morning cock already at quarrel with the world just beyond the tin reaching in to take some spices too enticing to refuse...

I always feel as if he is, or will soon be, bored with me and my humble 'ministrations' but he sweeps into my little room like a Raj, a young prince beaming, brimming full of stories to tell me, usually some food spicy hot he has prepared for me offered with a grin. Then he strips instantly down, lays upon the down pallet in easy, unabashed nakedness - it catches my breath, I do want to see! I hurriedly 'hide' my Ganesha, the prominent statue of the god I have in front of my useless fireplace; this hiding I half understand...but still, naked, he has a fresh and beautifully made tattoo of Ganesha on his shoulder, he wears a Ganesha necklace, a Ganesha bracelet, and a Ganesha waist scapular, the image of which is just below his navel. So why, I ask only myself and Ganesha, never Krishna, why must I hide my large wooden Ganesha statue? But I do hide Him in deference to Krishna's wishes and meanwhile have intercourse with the god-in-miniature, scraping a necklace trunk with an ear, a tongue, receive a scapular kiss of the image upon my forehead as I trace those wonderful hairlines of the male body on my way to other deities.

Ah! give me all the cabbages in the world in all my poverty! Am I not, too, a Raj of floors and scented pillows, this beaming god beneath me thrusting utterly to reveal his secrets, his desires, his pleasures to me who am not, when all is done, a god?

Life, dear Valdosta, over all, is good, yes? I wish it no ill. But, agreeing with the cock, I will quarrel, even fight, with life when young men still leap too soon from bridges because I have learned (and relearn it hard lesson by hard lesson at a time) visionary company insists its tracings in many forms, man to man being but one holy expression, those sons, burning mother's hands upon them demanding, insisting to life that each her sons is a rajah, a Sleepy Bee.

So please the intemperate humanity, in the face of patient deities the burning ones are leaping still and I am ill with grief, with prayer, their dead bodies gone, their now emptier hands.

And he leaves me.

I return to my poems.

The room is filled with Krishna, aromas of rose oil in his hair, pungent spices in his sweat and upon his hands and skin, and sex.

I retrieve Lord Ganesha out from his little sanctuary of hiding (it seems I am always retrieving deities) and we both laugh richly. I remember to sprinkle some cologne upon Him, to pour out some milk into His votive bowl, to rub His belly, to light another candle (the other extinguished, panting, while we were busy bees exchanging knees and sighs, diffusing male spices into bracing air, fingers upon oily chilies thickening in always morning hunger) .

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poem by Warren Falcon
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Ilicet

THERE is an end of joy and sorrow;
Peace all day long, all night, all morrow,
But never a time to laugh or weep.
The end is come of pleasant places,
The end of tender words and faces,
The end of all, the poppied sleep.

No place for sound within their hearing,
No room to hope, no time for fearing,
No lips to laugh, no lids for tears.
The old years have run out all their measure;
No chance of pain, no chance of pleasure,
No fragment of the broken years.

Outside of all the worlds and ages,
There where the fool is as the sage is,
There where the slayer is clean of blood,
No end, no passage, no beginning,
There where the sinner leaves off sinning,
There where the good man is not good.

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poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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