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The Great Adventure Of Max Breuck

1

A yellow band of light upon the street
Pours from an open door, and makes a wide
Pathway of bright gold across a sheet
Of calm and liquid moonshine. From inside
Come shouts and streams of laughter, and a snatch
Of song, soon drowned and lost again in mirth,
The clip of tankards on a table top,
And stir of booted heels. Against the patch
Of candle-light a shadow falls, its girth
Proclaims the host himself, and master of his shop.

2

This is the tavern of one Hilverdink,
Jan Hilverdink, whose wines are much esteemed.
Within his cellar men can have to drink
The rarest cordials old monks ever schemed

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poem by Amy Lowell
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The Max

Where are u?
U can relax now, the max is in control
Go... yeah yeah
When my back is so far back its on the other side of the wall
When half a chance is all I get if I get a chance at all
When the going gets tougher than the tough can go
I grind the axe - thats when I go, I go, I go 2 the max. I go
The max - yo baby, tell me where the partys at
The max - yo baby, I wanna shuffle the cards in that stack (I go)
The max - we can dance if u want 2, but I might break yo back
The max - more funk for your buck u can bet on that
When they tell me 2 walk a straight line
I put on crooked shoes
When they tell me that I cant live forever
I pay some overdues (kick it)
When they start makin up a crazy rule
Thats when I break a back
Cuz when I go, I go, I go 2 the max. I go
The max - yo baby (oh yeah), tell me where the partys at
The max - yo baby, I wanna shuffle the cards in that stack (oh, yeah yeah)

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song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Max (Instrumental)

Where are U?
U can relax now, the max is in control, uh
I Go (this is something 4 nothing), ah yeah yeah
When my back is so far back it's on the other side of the wall
When half a chance is all I get, if I get a chance at all
When the going gets tougher than the tough can go
I grind the ax - that's when I go, I go, I go 2 the max, I go
The max-- yo baby, tell me where the party's at (This is something)
The max-- yo baby, I wanna shuffle the cards in that stack (I go)
The max - we can dance if U want 2 but I might break your back (Yeah) (This is something)
The max -- MO 4 4 your buck U can bet on that
When they tell me 2 walk a straight line
I put on crooked shoes
When they tell me that I can't live 4ever
I pay some overdues (Dig it)
When they start making up a crazy rule
That's when I break a back, cuz (Break a back)
When I go, I go, I go 2 the max, I go
The max-- yo baby, tell me where the party's at (This is something)(Oh Yeah)
The max-- yo baby, I wanna shuffle the cards in that stack (Ah yeah yeah) (Yeah)

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song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Max Wall

Spike milligan, peter sellers, michael bentine, harry secombe,
Arthur askey, tommy cooper, norman wisdom, frankie howerd,
Norman vaughan, dave allen,
Max wall, max wall, max wall, max wall
John cleese, terry gilliam, michael palin, graham chapman,
Eric idle, ministry of silly walks, benny hill,
Max wall, max wall, max wall, max wall
Steve davis, alex higgins (gf), jimmy white, terry griffith (gf),
Brian odgers, dave early, bernie holland, richie buckley,
Max wall, max wall, max wall, max wall
Spike milligan, michael bentine, peter sellers, harry secombe,
Harry worth, frankie howerd, norman wisdom, tommy cooper,
Just like that!, benny hill,
Max wall, max wall, max wall, max wall

song performed by Van Morrison
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Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part VI.

'Who curseth Sorrow knows her not at all.
Dark matrix she, from which the human soul
Has its last birth; whence, with its misty thews,
Close-knitted in her blackness, issues out;
Strong for immortal toil up such great heights,
As crown o'er crown rise through Eternity,
Without the loud, deep clamour of her wail,
The iron of her hands; the biting brine
Of her black tears; the Soul but lightly built
of indeterminate spirit, like a mist
Would lapse to Chaos in soft, gilded dreams,
As mists fade in the gazing of the sun.
Sorrow, dark mother of the soul, arise!
Be crown'd with spheres where thy bless'd children dwell,
Who, but for thee, were not. No lesser seat
Be thine, thou Helper of the Universe,
Than planet on planet pil'd!--thou instrument,
Close-clasp'd within the great Creative Hand!'

* * * * *

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poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part IV.

From his far wigwam sprang the strong North Wind
And rush'd with war-cry down the steep ravines,
And wrestl'd with the giants of the woods;
And with his ice-club beat the swelling crests.
Of the deep watercourses into death,
And with his chill foot froze the whirling leaves
Of dun and gold and fire in icy banks;
And smote the tall reeds to the harden'd earth;
And sent his whistling arrows o'er the plains,
Scatt'ring the ling'ring herds--and sudden paus'd
When he had frozen all the running streams,
And hunted with his war-cry all the things
That breath'd about the woods, or roam'd the bleak
Bare prairies swelling to the mournful sky.
'White squaw,' he shouted, troubl'd in his soul,
'I slew the dead, wrestl'd with naked chiefs
'Unplum'd before, scalped of their leafy plumes;
'I bound sick rivers in cold thongs of death,
'And shot my arrows over swooning plains,
'Bright with the Paint of death--and lean and bare.

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poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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A Woman Called

A woman called for you today said Max’s wife.
Oh said Max who was she?
She didn’t say Max’s wife replied.
Well dames that don’t leave names
Aren’t worth worry over Max said
Lighting up a cigarette and sitting
In a chair by the window.
She seemed to know you Max’s wife stated stiffly
Seemed quite put out when I told her I was your wife.
Dames are always put out over something or other
Max said noticing his wife’s beauty spot
And how it moved as she spoke.
She was a brunette.
Ah a brunette huh?
Yes a brunette his wife said.
Well? She said after a minute’s pause.
New York’s full of brunettes.
This one came to the apartment and rang our bell
And stood at the door asking for Max.
There are plenty of men called Max in New York Honey he said

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poem by Terry Collett
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Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part V.

Said the high hill, in the morning: 'Look on me--
'Behold, sweet earth, sweet sister sky, behold
'The red flames on my peaks, and how my pines
'Are cressets of pure gold; my quarried scars
'Of black crevase and shadow-fill'd canon,
'Are trac'd in silver mist. How on my breast
'Hang the soft purple fringes of the night;
'Close to my shoulder droops the weary moon,
'Dove-pale, into the crimson surf the sun
'Drives up before his prow; and blackly stands
'On my slim, loftiest peak, an eagle, with
'His angry eyes set sunward, while his cry
'Falls fiercely back from all my ruddy heights;
'And his bald eaglets, in their bare, broad nest,
'Shrill pipe their angry echoes: ''Sun, arise,
''And show me that pale dove, beside her nest,
''Which I shall strike with piercing beak and tear
''With iron talons for my hungry young.''
And that mild dove, secure for yet a space,
Half waken'd, turns her ring'd and glossy neck

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poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part II.

The South Wind laid his moccasins aside,
Broke his gay calumet of flow'rs, and cast
His useless wampun, beaded with cool dews,
Far from him, northward; his long, ruddy spear
Flung sunward, whence it came, and his soft locks
Of warm, fine haze grew silver as the birch.
His wigwam of green leaves began to shake;
The crackling rice-beds scolded harsh like squaws:
The small ponds pouted up their silver lips;
The great lakes ey'd the mountains, whisper'd 'Ugh!'
'Are ye so tall, O chiefs? Not taller than
Our plumes can reach.' And rose a little way,
As panthers stretch to try their velvet limbs,
And then retreat to purr and bide their time.
At morn the sharp breath of the night arose
From the wide prairies, in deep struggling seas,
In rolling breakers, bursting to the sky;
In tumbling surfs, all yellow'd faintly thro'
With the low sun--in mad, conflicting crests,
Voic'd with low thunder from the hairy throats

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poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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Death Has Dominion

Officer Burks brings Max
the Bloodhound
into the alley
and Max immediately
strains at his leash.
He's onto the scent
of a killer.

Nose to the gravel,
Max sniffs back and forth,
slobber dripping
from his hammock lips,
his head never rising.

Burks knows Max
will corner the killer,
but not so fast.
He almost trips when
Max breaks his leash
and charges forward,

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poem by Donal Mahoney
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