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Sensitive Selfless Scribe's Shorthand Script Successfully Shows Superb Syllabic Stanza Susurration

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SENSITIVE SELFLESS SCRIBE'S SHORTHAND SCRIPT SUCCESSFULLY SHOWS SUPERB SYLLABIC STANZA SUSURRATION
Stanza stanza swift succeeding
seldom static, subtly speeding
serried series, saccharinic,
sentences scarce schizophrenic.

Sentences scarce schizophrenic,
salvos sparkle, sagenitic,
succulent succession seeding
stanza stanza swift succeeding.

Stanza stanza swift succeeding
serenade sauteed spoonfeeding
special scansion ‘S’ syllabic,
sentences scarce schizophrenic.

Sentences scarce schizophrenic
solo solves sound stream, strabismic

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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Adrift In Electromagnetic Fog

Tis strange, this recurring
bout of melancholy
renders spirit low
malcontent
far from jolly.
Adrift, adrift, upon.... Sargasso Sea.

Tis strange, this labyrinth monstrous,
recurring, phenomena bout signaling,
momentous wavelength melancholy.

Renders suppressed zoned spirit,
low, marginalized malcontent.
Far removed from thoughtless,

singular, jubilant jocular jolly.
A singularity of glowing erratic time.
Adrift adrift upon an ardent sea.

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poem by Terence George Craddock
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To Let

To Let
(Xavier Rudd)
The sun is peaking
The sun is peering across the bay
I am walking
Sucking stale air on this fine day
Lady squeaking
Lady she shuffles ten feet in front
Her pants are squeaking
Her pants are squeaking as she does
I'll sit him down
I'll sit him down
The sun is peering across the bay
I am walking
Sucking stale air on this fine day
I'll sit him down
I'll sit him down
Would you let me know
Would you let me go
Would you let me know

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song performed by Xavier Rudd
Added by Lucian Velea
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To Let

To Let
(Xavier Rudd)
The sun is peaking
The sun is peering across the bay
I am walking
Sucking stale air on this fine day
Lady squeaking
Lady she shuffles ten feet in front
Her pants are squeaking
Her pants are squeaking as she does
I'll sit him down
I'll sit him down
The sun is peering across the bay
I am walking
Sucking stale air on this fine day
I'll sit him down
I'll sit him down
Would you let me know
Would you let me go
Would you let me know

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song performed by Xavier Rudd
Added by Lucian Velea
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Jack-ass

I've been drifting along with the same stale shoes
Loose ends tying the noose in the back of my mind
If you thought that you were making your way
To where the puzzles and pagans lay
I'll put it together: it's a strange invitation

When I wake up someone will sweep up my lazy bones
And we will rise in the cool of the evening
I remember the way that she smiled
When the gravity shackles were wild
And something is vacant when I think it's all beginning

I been drifting along with the same stale shoes
Loose ends tying the noose in the back of my mind
If you thought that you were making your way
To where the puzzles and pagans lay
I'll put it together: it's a strange invitation

song performed by Beck from Odelay
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rio

Patrick simmons / jeffrey baxter
When things get stale
You get on a boat and sail to rio
The beaches and the sea
Thats where I long to be
In rio
But Im workin for the man every day up in the city
Got to get away on a boat around the corner
And its waiting there for you and me
In rio
Dark eyed lady
Drive mercedes everywhere
In rio
She said, do you wanna take a ride?
So I jumped right in beside her
In rio
But Im workin for the man every day up in the city
Got to get away on a boat around the corner
And its waiting there for you and me
In rio

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song performed by Doobie Brothers
Added by Lucian Velea
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Break Free! - Have a Ball!

Time to break free, one's cup of tea may not be to all taste,
past history's stale news, let be, haste, challenge chased, no waste!
Song bird of time migrates, sublime rewarding melody,
wide wings unfurl, from spiral twirl, soar to true rhapsody.

Time to escape, dropp nightshade drape, spring sprightly sings fresh air,
shed strings, red tape of every shape, fresh future fair prepare.
Shift key, click mouse, write waltz like Strauss, carouse in harmony,
drown frowns, don't grouse laze louse round house, spurn tale_spin gravity.

Discard hard times, from prose to rhymes switch life that pain shrugs off,
see light, delight quite free from fright, breathe out and fight rough cough!
Ignore moods poor, pain reign's downpour, sore thumb, fools dumb who bore,
far more expect, hope's scope elect, reject despond's dark core!

Time to rebound, life’s boat aground goodbye waves tidal waves,
from hurts that hound heart thought strung, bound, a clear approach now braves
life’s slings and arrows, narrow minds, discovers empathy,
that brings marshmallows, wide wings hallows, sheds self-sympathy.

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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L'Homme Moyen Sensuel

‘Tis of my country that I would endite,
In hope to set some misconceptions right.
My country? I love it well, and those good fellows
Who, since their wit's unknown, escape the gallows.
But you stuffed coats who're neither tepid nor distinctly boreal,
Pimping, conceited, placid, editorial,
Could I but speak as 'twere in the 'Restoration'
I would articulate your perdamnation.
This year perforce I must with circumspection
For Mencken states somewhere, in this connection:
‘It is a moral nation we infest.'
Despite such reins and checks I'll do my best,
An art! You all respect the arts, from that infant tick
Who's now the editor of The Altantic,
From Comstock's self, down to the meanest resident,
Till up again, right up, we reach the president,
Who shows his taste in his ambassadors:
A novelist, a publisher, to pay old scores,
A novelist, a publisher and a preacher,
That's sent to Holland, a most particular feature,

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poem by Ezra Pound
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A Sicilian Idyll

(First Scene) Damon
I thank thee, no;
Already have I drunk a bowl of wine . . .
Nay, nay, why wouldst thou rise?
There rolls thy ball of worsted! Sit thee down;
Come, sit thee down, Cydilla,
And let me fetch thy ball, rewind the wool,
And tell thee all that happened yesterday.

Cydilla
Thanks, Damon; now, by Zeus, thou art so brisk,
It shames me that to stoop should try my bones.

Damon
We both are old,
And if we may have peaceful days are blessed;
Few hours of bouyancy will come to break
The sure withdrawal from us of life's flood.

Cydilla

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poem by Thomas Sturge Moore
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The Old, Old Song

When all the world is young, lad,
And all the trees are green;
And every goose a swan, lad,
And every lass a queen—
Then hey for boot and horse lad,
And round the world away;
Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day.

When all the world is old, lad,
And all the trees are brown;
And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down—
Creep home, and take your place there,
The spent and manned among;
God grant you find one face there
You loved when all was young.

poem by Charles Kingsley from The Water Babies, Chapter 2 (1863)
Added by Dan Costinaş
1 comment - Comment! | Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian