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Running Through The Garden

Until she herself...
Became the deadliest poison
As she grew older
Until she herself
Became just as fatal
As her garden...
So you run toward...
What you know is wrong
But there are too many flowers...
To cut down
With all the love that I have for your life
With all the love that I have for your life
Never did I mean to imprison you
In my garden
Like I am imprisoned
Never did I mean to imprison you
In my garden
Like I am imprisoned
Until she herself
Became the deadliest poison

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song performed by Fleetwood Mac
Added by Lucian Velea
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America The Land Of The Free

America the land of the free.
The land of the free?
America has the highest

imprisonment
rate in the world not

just in the free world
in the entire world!

America number one
imprisonment double most contenders!
Imprison ethnic poor

imprison your citizens
double above most
imprisonment nations!

America the land of the lie
the land where dreams are sold!

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poem by Terence George Craddock
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The Spirit Of Jfk

Let the word go forth
Let the word go forth
From this time and place
Good evening my fellow citizens
Im speaking tonight in a spirit of hope
In the human spirit, the human spirit
Lee harvey oswald
Oh, no
Jack ruby
Oswald and ruby
Oh, no
To friend and foe alike
Oswald and ruby
My god, have you heard
The president is dead
Oswald and ruby
They do not imprison spirits
Oswald and ruby
They do not imprison spirits
The president is dead

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song performed by Devo
Added by Lucian Velea
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Prince Of Darkness

My victims are rich or poor, young or old, strong or weak
I cause millions of accidents, I am cancer in your bones
I fathered the lie, twist what you say, speak not the truth
I am insidious, impartial, deep inside your chromosomes
I take what you love, and leave you in tears
I imprison your soul, your hopes are my games
I strip you of pride, my promise is in vain
While you burn at the stake I dance with the flames
I bring poverty, sickness and death
A worthless handshake, the slickest thief, I steal your wealth
I answer your prayers for greed and lust
More than evil, I laugh at your trust
I am more powerful than all the armies of the world
I am more violent than violence, more deadly than death
I have destroyed more men than all the nations wars
I am relentless, unpredictable, waiting for your last breath
Evil, more evil than violence
Violent, more violent than death
Deadly, more deadly than man
I am yeah, yeah, Im evil I am

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song performed by Megadeth
Added by Lucian Velea
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Æneid, Book VIII. Line 18

Thus Italy was moved -- nor did the chief
Æneas in his mind less tumult feel.
On every side his anxious thought he turns,
Restless, unfix'd, not knowing which to choose.
And as a cistern that in brim of brass
Confines the crystal flood, if chance the sun
Smite on it, or the moon's resplendent orb.
The quivering light now flashes on the walls,
Now leaps uncertain to the vaulted roof:
Such were the wavering motions of his mind.
'Twas night -- and weary nature sunk to rest.
The birds, the bleating flocks, were heard no more.
At length, on the cold ground, beneath the damp
And dewy vault fast by the river's brink,
The father of his country sought repose,
When lo! among the spreading poplar boughs,
Forth from his pleasant stream, propitious rose
The god of Tiber: clear transparent gauze
Infolds his loins, his brows with reeds are crown'd:
And these his gracious words to soothe his care:

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poem by Virgil, translated by William Cowper
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Lycus the Centaur

FROM AN UNROLLED MANUSCRIPT OF APOLLONIUS CURIUS

(The Argument: Lycus, detained by Circe in her magical dominion, is beloved by a Water Nymph, who, desiring to render him immortal, has recourse to the Sorceress. Circe gives her an incantation to pronounce, which should turn Lycus into a horse; but the horrible effect of the charm causing her to break off in the midst, he becomes a Centaur).

Who hath ever been lured and bound by a spell
To wander, fore-doomed, in that circle of hell
Where Witchery works with her will like a god,
Works more than the wonders of time at a nod,—
At a word,—at a touch,—at a flash of the eye,
But each form is a cheat, and each sound is a lie,
Things born of a wish—to endure for a thought,
Or last for long ages—to vanish to nought,
Or put on new semblance? O Jove, I had given
The throne of a kingdom to know if that heaven,
And the earth and its streams were of Circe, or whether
They kept the world's birthday and brighten'd together!

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poem by Thomas Hood
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Solomon on the Vanity of the World, A Poem. In Three Books. - Pleasure. Book II.

The Argument

Solomon, again seeking happiness, inquires if wealth and greatness can produce it: begins with the magnificence of gardens and buildings; the luxury of music and feasting; and proceeds to the hopes and desires of love. In two episodes are shown the follies and troubles of that passion. Solomon, still disappointed, falls under the temptations of libertinism and idolatry; recovers his thought; reasons aright; and concludes that, as to the pursuit of pleasure and sensual delight, All Is Vanity and Vexation of Spirit.

Try then, O man, the moments to deceive
That from the womb attend thee to the grave:
For wearied Nature find some apter scheme;
Health be thy hope, and pleasure be thy theme;
From the perplexing and unequal ways
Where Study brings thee from the endless maze
Which Doubt persuades o run, forewarn'd, recede
To the gay field, and flowery path, that lead
To jocund mirth, soft joy, and careless ease:
Forsake what my instruct for what may please:
Essay amusing art and proud expense,
And make thy reason subject to thy sense.

I communed thus: the power of wealth I tried,

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poem by Matthew Prior
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The Dream

'TWAS summer eve; the changeful beams still play'd
On the fir-bark and through the beechen shade;
Still with soft crimson glow'd each floating cloud;
Still the stream glitter'd where the willow bow'd;
Still the pale moon sate silent and alone,
Nor yet the stars had rallied round her throne;
Those diamond courtiers, who, while yet the West
Wears the red shield above his dying breast,
Dare not assume the loss they all desire,
Nor pay their homage to the fainter fire,
But wait in trembling till the Sun's fair light
Fading, shall leave them free to welcome Night!

So when some Chief, whose name through realms afar
Was still the watchword of succesful war,
Met by the fatal hour which waits for all,
Is, on the field he rallied, forced to fall,
The conquerors pause to watch his parting breath,
Awed by the terrors of that mighty death;
Nor dare the meed of victory to claim,

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poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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It's You

It's you that I'm bleeding from the wounds of my soul;
it's you that I'm breathing without sense of control;
it's you that I'm dreaming with my eyes opened wide,
it's you that I picture when I close them at night;
it's you that I fear to tear down my whole world;
it's you that I'm drawn to like a ship in a swirl.

It's you that I sip with insatiable thirst,
it's you that I keep as my last thought and first.
It's you that I taste in a sweet-bitter bite,
it's you that I find when I'm searching inside.

It's you that I steal from, the hope of one spark;
it's you that I light to scatter my dark;
it's you that I imprison in the dungeon of me,
it's you that I chain and throw down the key.

It's you that I enjoy when enduring this pain,
it's you that I engrave in my heart with my brain.
It's you that I lust for in unearthly bliss,

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poem by Adi Niculae (September 2012)
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I refuse to imprison our acts in the rigid mould of sentences.

quote by Ella Maillart
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