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Les Cactus

Le monde entier est un cactus
Il est impossible de s'asseoir
Dans la vie il n'y a que des cactus
Moi j'm'pique de le savoir
Aie! aie! ouille! aie!
Dans leur coeur il y a des cactus
Dans leur portefeuille y a des cactus
Sous leurs pieds il y a des cactus
Dans l'heure qu'il est il y a des cactus
Aie! aie! ouille! aie!
Pour me defendre de leur cactus
A mon tour j'ai pris des cactus
Dans mon lit j'ai mis des cactus
Dans mon silp j'ai mis des cactus
Aie! aie! ouille! aie!
Dans leur sourir' il y a des cactus
Dans leur ventr' il y a des cactus
Dans leur bonjour il y a des cactus
Dans leur cactus il y a des cactus
Aie! aie! aie! ouille! ouille!

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song performed by Vanessa Paradis
Added by Lucian Velea
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Cactus Seed

Radiant notes piercing my narrow-chested room, beating down through my ceiling— smeared with unshapen belly-prints of dreams drifted out of old smokes— trillions of icily peltering notes out of just one canary, all grown to song as a plant to its stalk, from too long craning at a sky-light and a square of second-hand blue.

Silvery-strident throat—
so assiduously serenading my brain,
flinching under
the glittering hail of your notes—
were you not safe behind… rats know what thickness of… plastered wall…
I might fathom
your golden delirium
with throttle of finger and thumb
shutting valve of bright song.

II

But if… away off… on a fork of grassed earth
socketing an inlet reach of blue water…
if canaries (do they sing out of cages?)
flung such luminous notes,
they would sink in the spirit…
lie germinal…

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poem by Lola Ridge
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Miracles Of Transformation

place lived in could be
a harsh barren dessert
where sudden sand storm
can strip our life to bone

God hides great serene
beauty in strange places
to teach hope in inspired
miracles of transformation

there is incredible serene beauty written...
into mysterious timeless dessert places...

once a gardener asked God for two gifts:
a beautiful plant with colourful flowers,
and a butterfly to flutter about the flowers,
to add beauty to his small potted garden:

the gardener excited waited for his flowering plant...
the beautiful butterfly he believed God would give...

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poem by Terence George Craddock
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Grinch 2000 (feat. Jim Carrey)

f/ Jim Carrey
[Jim Carrey]
This is a Flipmode Squad
Jim Carrey collabo
Now what?
[Busta]
Ugh, hallelujah
Kids hear this come on
While I'm lacing and tryna prepare this
For y'all, oh well I got a story to tell
About a dude I met once, miserable as hell
How grouchy he was
And how slouchy he was
And when he talked, you'd smell his breath
And how lousy it was
And if you daydreamed, he'd give you pinch
Now let me tell you about Mr. Grinch
Every holiday season while we was young, growing up
Everything be cool when Mr. Grinch show up
Always plottin' and schemin' to ruin everybody's holiday season

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song performed by Busta Rhymes
Added by Lucian Velea
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No one is useless

Cactus is full of thorns.
Rose is a real charm.
Cactus guards in fence.
Rose has in it a defense.
Rose must not scorn
The cactus for its thorn.
15.04.2001, Vijv

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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How spiny the cactus raised itself

how spiny the cactus raised itself
into the desert
how red the sand
burnt under the mid-day sun
how scorched the scorpion moved
across the red sand

and in that silence
a sudden whirlwind blows
a red, red cloud of sand
from the dunes rises
how spiny the cactus raised itself
into the tempest:

and yet
and yet
the tempest was subdued and fell
as happened long ago and now
and still

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poem by Emmanuel George Cefai
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Good times, bad times & my cactus Christmas tree

My first Christmas tree, thirty years ago
Upon my arrival in Las Vegas
Shall always be remembered so,
As one of my greatest

My pickup truck was my home
My refuge and my castle
I was totally, absolutely alone…
But… it wasn’t such a hassle

I drove into the desert one day
To see what I could see
And lo and behold beside the road
Found my perfect Christmas tree

It was a three inch tall cactus
All attitude, prickly and brash
And I proudly installed it
Upon my ol’ trucks dash

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poem by David Whalen
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Ode to my dying Cactus (Rough Draft)

Oh my most enduring cactus!
With more thorns than my years!
I shall water you for the last time
It shall be with my tears!

I recall the joy you gave us!
A representation of love’s endurance…
(And the ferocity it may bring)
I vividly remember, when my senile
Grandmother placed you by the
Light switch, and mother, In a fit
Of anger over some lost remote,
Or sheer grumpiness, smacked
What she thought was the switch!
She screamed so loud, you would
Think the claws of hell had impaled her heart!

And I remember the hours put into
Removing your teeth from her
Palm, consoling her, soothing her agony-

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poem by Lazarus Knix
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The Painted Desert

[ jerome augustyniak/natalie merchant ]
The painted desert can wait till summer.
Weve played this game of just imagine long enough.
Wait till summer?
When Im sure the rains have ended, the blooms have gone,
Everyone killed by the morning frost.
Is a cactus blooming there in every roadside stand
Where the big deal is cowboy gear won in japan?
The painted desert can wait till summer.
Weve played this game of just imagine long enough.
Wait till summer?
When Im sure the rains have ended and the blooms have gone,
Everyone killed by the morning frost.
Is a cactus blooming there upon the northern rim
Or in the ruins of the hopi mesa dens?
You met a new friend in the canyon, or so you wrote.
On a blanket in the cooling sand you and your friend agreed that
The stars were so many there they seemed to overlap.
The painted desert can wait till summer.
Weve played this game of just imagine long enough.

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song performed by 10000 Maniacs
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mary had a Little Vamp and Other Parodies after Sarah Josepha HALE

Mary had a little vamp,
whose teeth glowed white as snow,
each night from sightly vent – no cramp -
the crimson droplets flow.

Some followed her from school one day;
though stalking's 'gainst the rules;
it made goose pimples grow and stay
to see them play at ghouls.

But they were caught, their tale remains
from history well hid,
though we discovered their remains
beneath oak coffin lid.

And so blood flowed from inside out,
none dared to lingered near
when shadows shiver, hang about
until Vamps disappear.

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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