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Didnt I

Well I thought I could make you cry
Oh didnt i?
I didnt think that I would miss you
Ah did you, did you true?
And I told you before
When you walked out that door
That I wouldnt love you any more
I cannot cope any more
Well I thought youd never lie
Why didnt i?
I didnt think that youd be untrue
Well did you, did you too?
And Ive told you before
When youd walk out that door
That I would no cope any more
I do not have you any more
I thought I could make you cry
And I tried now didnt i?
I didnt think that I would miss you
But it wasnt true, I do
And I told you before
A million times or more
That when youd walk out that door
I would no love you any more
I do not love you any more
I lied now didnt i?
Oh didnt i?
There are people in this town
That say I dont give a damn
But the people in this town
They never could understand
Oh they never could understand
I thought I could make you cry
And I tried, now didnt i? didnt I try, didnt i?
I didnt think that I would miss you
But it wasnt true, I do, I do
And I told you before
That youd open up my sores
And youd leave me here with scars
I cannot take it any more
Oh dont hurt me no more
I cried and I cried, now didnt i?
Why didnt I try? why didnt i?

song performed by Thin Lizzy
Added by Lucian Velea
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If It Wasnt For The Nights

I got appointments, work I have to do
Keeping me so busy all the day through
Theyre the things that keep me from thinking of you
(ohhh) baby, I miss you so, I know Im never gonna make it
Oh, Im so restless, I dont care what I say
And I lose my temper ten times a day
Still its even worse when the nights on its way
Its bad, oh, so bad
Somehow Id be doing alright if it wasnt for the nights
(if it wasnt for the nights I think that I could make it)
Id have courage left to fight if it wasnt for the nights
(if it wasnt for the nights I think that I could take it)
How I fear the time when shadows start to fall
Sitting here alone and staring at the wall
Even I could see a light if it wasnt for the nights
(even I could see a light I think that I could make it)
Somehow Id be doing alright if it wasnt for the nights
(if it wasnt for the nights I think that I could take it)
No one to turn to, you know how it is
I was not prepared for something like this
Now I see them clearly, the things that I miss
(ohhh) baby, I feel so bad, I know Im never gonna make it
I got my business to help me through the day
People I must write to, bills I must pay
But everythings so different when nights on its way
Its bad, oh, so bad
Somehow Id be doing alright if it wasnt for the nights
(if it wasnt for the nights I think that I could make it)
Id have courage left to fight if it wasnt for the nights
(if it wasnt for the nights I think that I could take it)
How I fear the time when shadows start to fall
Sitting here alone and staring at the wall
Even I could see a light if it wasnt for the nights
(even I could see a light I think that I could make it)
Guess my future would look bright if it wasnt for the nights
(if it wasnt for the nights I think that I could make it)
If it wasnt for the nights
(if it wasnt for the nights I think that I could take it)
If it wasnt for the nights
(if it wasnt for the nights I think that I could make it)
Even I could see a light if it wasnt for the nights
(even I could see a light I think that I could make it)
Guess my future would look bright if it wasnt for the nights
(if it wasnt for the nights I think that I could take it)
If it wasnt for the nights
(if it wasnt for the nights I think that I could make it)
If it wasnt for the nights
(if it wasnt for the nights I think that I could take it)
Even I could see a light if it wasnt for the nights
(even I could see a light I think that I could make it)

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song performed by ABBA
Added by Lucian Velea
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The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

II.

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poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Synergy of Love

'Were you honed from poetry? '
I asked your saddened smile.
For it seems to tell a longing tale -
One of words in oratory
That speaks in languid metaphors
From lips of mind in deep despair
And solitude from inner wars
That over time has rendered life so frail.

'Were you carved from doleful prose? '
I sought to ask your gaze,
For a pain lies deep within your eyes -
One of barren territory
Where no fair heart could ever drift
And hope to venture back content
With grateful memories in a gift -
A land of your affectional demise.

'Do I hear a mournful hum? '
I wondered of your cry,
For it sings a song of deep lament -
One of quiet soliloquy
Recited on deserted strands
To waves that have no sense of song
And only wish to fight the sands -
A chant that cites emotional descent.

Do you know your face portrays
The colours of your soul?
It tells me at a single glance
Of how you burned your furnace whole
To stay the fire in our romance.

And see the prismic hues they bore!
I cherished all I ever saw:
Mauve of mystic; browns of rustic;
Reddened tones to match your blush;
Marine of passion, spending out your being,
Leaving you for ashen embers, fleeing
The dying light in hush of night.
And how you lay there empty.

So let me help re-grow the flowers
Once erect in fiery showers!
For now I've seen what love can do
When torn asunder - oh my catastrophic blunder!

But we must realise -
Our flaming want is meant to be!
We are the ocean and the sea;

[...] Read more

poem by Mark R Slaughter
Added by Poetry Lover
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Forsaking My Love

I hate you
I wish to tear you away from me
This tumor that clings to my chest
The thing that makes me ache
That haunts my dreams
And tears at my desires
You have brought me only pain
My untamed heart
That beast that gnaws at my soul
That pitifully whines
Bringing my mind into unwanted pain
Yet how can I blame you
How can I chastise you when I listen intently to your pleas
Why should I punish you for what my eyes feed upon
How can I blame my eyes for falling upon her
She who brings light to the eternal darkness of my soul
She whose eyes bring me to subjection
Whose smile leaves me in awe
How can I blame you when my ears are met with her laughter
How they submerge into her song
How they quiver at her voice
Why should I punish you for inclining my soul
Tempting it with the one sense that has been forsaken by her
How could I look over the thought of the brushing of lips
The touching of hands
The binding of the soul, mind, and body
O you wretched heart
What am I to do with this constant companion
How could I tear you away
When she is the cause of my agony
Or rather
It is the lack of her which brings me sorrow
It is the need for her that leaves my heart in pain
Yet she is not mine
She was never mine
She will never be mine
O my poor heart
How can I make you see reason
When all you do is show me the truth

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poem by Michael Silver
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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It Wasnt Me

It wasnt me who shamed you
Its not fair to say that
You wanted to work I gave you a chance at that
It wasnt me who hurt you
Thats more credit that Im worth
Dont threaten me with the things youll do to you
It wasnt me who shamed you
It wasnt me who brought you down
You did it to yourself without any help from me
It wasnt me who hurt you
I showed you possibilities
The problems you had were there before you met me
I didnt say this had to be
You cant blame these things on me
It wasnt me, it wasnt me, it wasnt me
I know shes dead, it wasnt me
It wasnt me who changed you
You did it to yourself
Im not an excuse for the hole you dropped in
Im not simple minded
But Im not father to you at all
Death exists but you do things to yourself
I never said give up control
I never said stick a needle in your arm and die
It wasnt me, it wasnt me, it wasnt me
I know hes dead but it wasnt me
It wasnt me who shamed you
Who covered you with mud
You did it to yourself without any help from me
You act as I couldve told you
Or stopped you like some god
But people never listen and you know that thats a fact
I never said slit your wrists and die
I never said throw your life away
It wasnt me, it wasnt me, it wasnt me
Youre killing yourself, you cant blame me

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Faithless Shepherdess

WHILE that the sun with his beams hot
   Scorched the fruits in vale and mountain,
Philon the shepherd, late forgot,
   Sitting beside a crystal fountain
   In shadow of a green oak tree,
   Upon his pipe this song play'd he:
Adieu, Love, adieu, Love, untrue Love!
Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu, Love!
Your mind is light, soon lost for new love.

So long as I was in your sight
   I was your heart, your soul, your treasure;
And evermore you sobb'd and sigh'd
   Burning in flames beyond all measure:
   --Three days endured your love to me,
   And it was lost in other three!
Adieu, Love, adieu, Love, untrue Love!
Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu, Love!
Your mind is light, soon lost for new love.

Another shepherd you did see,
   To whom your heart was soon enchained;
Full soon your love was leapt from me,
   Full soon my place he had obtained.
   Soon came a third your love to win,
   And we were out and he was in.
Adieu, Love, adieu, Love, untrue Love!
Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu, Love!
Your mind is light, soon lost for new love.

Sure you have made me passing glad
   That you your mind so soon removed,
Before that I the leisure had
   To choose you for my best beloved:
   For all my love was pass'd and done
   Two days before it was begun.
Adieu, Love, adieu, Love, untrue Love!
Untrue Love, untrue Love, adieu, Love!
Your mind is light, soon lost for new love.

CRABB'D Age and Youth
Cannot live together:
Youth is full of pleasance,
Age is full of care;
Youth like summer morn,
Age like winter weather;
Youth like summer brave,
Age like winter bare.
Youth is full of sport,
Age's breath is short;

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poem by William Byrd
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Wouldnt You Like To Know Me

Ive been lonely but I feel alright
You got another baby, hold him tight, you know
You been pushin and you wont get me tonight
Ive been your lover, but Im not your fool
You wanna to teach me but Im not in school, you know
You been pushin and you wont get me tonight
You come a-crawlin, but youre much too late
Youve got the key, but babe I locked the gate
I tried to call you when you were not home
Nobody likes to spend the nights alone
Wouldnt you like to know me
And wouldnt you like to show me you care
Wouldnt you like to take me
And wouldnt you like to make me, whoo yeah
Youre good lookin so you get your way
You been lucky, baby, not today, because
You been pushin and you dont get me tonight
You come a-crawlin, but youre much too late
Youve got the key, but babe I locked the gate
I tried to call you when you were not home
Nobody likes to spend the nights alone
Wouldnt you like to know me
And wouldnt you like to show me you care
Wouldnt you like to take me
And wouldnt you like to make me, whoo yeah
Lets go
Wouldnt you like to know me
And wouldnt you like to show me you care
Wouldnt you like to take me
And wouldnt you like to make me, whoo yeah
Wouldnt you like to know me
And wouldnt you like to show me you care
Wouldnt you like to take me
And wouldnt you like to make me, whoo yeah
Wouldnt you like to know me
And wouldnt you like to

song performed by Kiss
Added by Lucian Velea
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Russian Girl

Ive been frozen, now its so hot I can barely see
Ive been cutting them down so they cant make fun of me, yeah
Been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Young child sitting all alone
Hot child, she wants to take you home
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Russian girl, Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you
Ive been rushin you
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been a russian girl
Ive been a russian girl,
Ive been rushin you

song performed by Liz Phair
Added by Lucian Velea
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You Shouldve Told Me

I wouldnt call in the midnight hour
I wouldnt tuck you in and turn the nightlight out
You would walk through the door and I wouldnt say hi
I would walk out the door and wouldnt say bye-bye
Its funny that I never thought about it that way
I never knew the things that I did not say
But you were lonely and you were hungry
And I was living in my own world
Thinking Im a perfect lady
You shouldve told me
I wasnt small enough
You shouldve told me
I didnt call enough
But you led me on
And kept me going
And we never shouldve wasted this time
You shouldve told me
I wasnt wild enough
You shouldve told me
I didnt smile enough
What you had in my mind
Made me lose my mind
And we never shouldve wasted this time
I was in bed Id help you take your clothes off
When it was time for work didnt see you off
When your tense didnt give a massage
I never told you I think youre hot
Its funny I never thought about it that way
Never knew the things I did not say
But you were lonely and you were hungry
And I was living in my own world
Thinking Im a perfect lady
You shouldve told me
I wasnt small enough
You shouldve told me
I didnt call enough
But you led me on
And kept me going
And we never shouldve wasted this time
You shouldve told me
I wasnt wild enough
You shouldve told me
I didnt smile enough
What you had in my mind
Made me lose my mind
And we never shouldve wasted this time
When you thought you had to lie
Why didnt you come and tell me why?
Didnt you see those tears I cried?
Oh why?

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song performed by Kelly Price
Added by Lucian Velea
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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Walk

Attention everybody
I'm gonna show U a brand new dance
It's called "The Walk," "The Walk"
Just let your body talk
'Til U're deep in a trance
U don't need no partner
U can walk all alone
(Say, say) Whenever U feel the groove
Just let your body move
Walkin' 2 a beat of your own (Hey)
Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk (U)
Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk
Attention everybody
I said it ain't hard 2 do
U just walk, walk
Let your body talk
Walkin' so cool (Walkin' so cool)
Attention everybody
I said I just shined my shoes, yes I did
So U can let your body talk
But just watch where U walk
Or your life U're gonna lose
In other words, I'll walk U til U're dead
Everybody walk your body (Oh yeah, hey)
Everybody walk (U)
Everybody walk your body
Oh, everybody walk
The days of dancing in one place are gone
And honey, U know U can't dance with them tight jeans on
If U try 2 cop a dip, U trip, slip, and fall
Walking's 4 the cool baby, put on a camisole (Hey)
Everybody walk your body (Everybody walk your body)
Everybody walk (U)
Everybody walk your body (Everybody walk your body)
Everybody walk (Uh)
Who? Me? I wear baggies, zip, snap, and drop
(Mm) Easy access baby (Yes, before U get a chance 2 holler "Stop!")
Besides, Rollo likes his freedom
Ain't nothin' like a fresh pair of baggies
Now I know that's right
Everybody walk your body (Everybody walk your body)
Everybody walk (U)
Everybody walk your body
Everybody walk (Oh)
Hup 2, 3, 4, what the hell are we fightin' 4? Walk!
Hup 2, 3, 4, what the hell are we fightin' 4? Walk!
Company fall in line, talk
Hup 2, 3, 4, what the hell are we fightin' 4? Walk! (Jellybean)

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song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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No Knock On My Door

She knew my feelings were jangled and frayed
She knew my feelings were jangled and frayed
She took me into a wind blown alley way
She took me into a wind blown alley way
She showed me a world a boy should see
She showed me a world a boy should see
Ill thank her till the day that I die
Ill thank her till the day that I die
So, here we go
No knock on my door
So, here we go
Believe it till you see
No knock on my door
What living has done to me
Believe it till you see
And Im sure that I need holding
What living has done to me
And Im sure that I need holding
I took her to a room and I showed her myself
She made me feel proud that I would stand for
Theres nothing that this girl wouldnt do for me
I took her to a room and I showed her myself
For that Ive got to thank her and I mean it
She made me feel proud that I would stand for
Theres nothing that this girl wouldnt do for me
So, here we go
For that Ive got to thank her and I mean it
A face in the crowd,
Jump up and jump down
Baby, can you see through me?
So, here we go
A face in the crowd,
Sure, Ive been here before
Jump up and jump down
No knock on my door
Baby, can you see through me?
No love in the
Baby, please be my
Sure, Ive been here before
Sure, Ive seen it before
No knock on my door
No knock on my door
No love in the
Love in the
Baby, please be my
Can be painful, I know
Cry, I cry every night
Sure, Ive seen it before
I need to hold you tight
No knock on my door

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song performed by Verve
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Boxer

I am just a poor boy though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance
For a pocket full of mumbles, such are promises
All lies in jest, still a man hears what he wants to hear, and disregards the rest
hmm hmm hmmm
When I left my home and my family, was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers In the quiet of the railway station running scared
Laying low seeking out the poorer quarters, Where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know
lie la lie, lie la la-lie lie la-lie, lie-la lie, lie la la-lie lie la lie la-la la lie lie.
Asking only workman's wages I come looking for a job, but I get no offers
Just a come on from the whores on seventh avenue
I do declare there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there
la la la ...
lie la lie, lie la la-lie lie la-lie, lie-la lie, lie la la-lie lie la lie la-la la lie lie.
And I am laying out my winter clothes and wishing I was gone, Going home
Where the New York City winters aren't bleeding me, Leading me, going home
In the clearing stands a boxer and a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders
Of every glove that laid him down or cut him till he cried out
In his anger and shame, I am leaving, I am leaving,
But the fighter still remains hmm hmm hmm
lie la lie, lie la la-lie lie la-lie, lie-la lie, lie la la-lie lie la lie la-la la lie lie.

song performed by Simon & Garfunkel
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Victories Of Love. Book I

I
From Frederick Graham

Mother, I smile at your alarms!
I own, indeed, my Cousin's charms,
But, like all nursery maladies,
Love is not badly taken twice.
Have you forgotten Charlotte Hayes,
My playmate in the pleasant days
At Knatchley, and her sister, Anne,
The twins, so made on the same plan,
That one wore blue, the other white,
To mark them to their father's sight;
And how, at Knatchley harvesting,
You bade me kiss her in the ring,
Like Anne and all the others? You,
That never of my sickness knew,
Will laugh, yet had I the disease,
And gravely, if the signs are these:

As, ere the Spring has any power,
The almond branch all turns to flower,
Though not a leaf is out, so she
The bloom of life provoked in me;
And, hard till then and selfish, I
Was thenceforth nought but sanctity
And service: life was mere delight
In being wholly good and right,
As she was; just, without a slur;
Honouring myself no less than her;
Obeying, in the loneliest place,
Ev'n to the slightest gesture, grace
Assured that one so fair, so true,
He only served that was so too.
For me, hence weak towards the weak,
No more the unnested blackbird's shriek
Startled the light-leaved wood; on high
Wander'd the gadding butterfly,
Unscared by my flung cap; the bee,
Rifling the hollyhock in glee,
Was no more trapp'd with his own flower,
And for his honey slain. Her power,
From great things even to the grass
Through which the unfenced footways pass,
Was law, and that which keeps the law,
Cherubic gaiety and awe;
Day was her doing, and the lark
Had reason for his song; the dark
In anagram innumerous spelt
Her name with stars that throbb'd and felt;

[...] Read more

poem by Coventry Patmore
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Ive Had Enough

You were under the impression
You were under the impression
That when you were walking forward
That when you were walking forward
Youd end up further onward
Youd end up further onward
But things aint quite that simple.
But things aint quite that simple.
You got altered information
You got altered information
You were told to not take chances
You were told to not take chances
You missed out on new dances
You missed out on new dances
Now youre losing all your dimples.
Now youre losing all your dimples.
My jackets gonna be cut and slim and checked,
My jackets gonna be cut and slim and checked,
Maybe a touch of seersucker, with an open neck.
Maybe a touch of seersucker, with an open neck.
I ride a g.s. scooter with my hair cut neat,
I ride a g.s. scooter with my hair cut neat,
Wear my wartime coat in the wind and sleet.
Wear my wartime coat in the wind and sleet.
Love reign oer me.
Love reign oer me.
Love reign oer me.
Love reign oer me.
Love.
Love.
Ive had enough of living
Ive had enough of living
Ive had enough of dying
Ive had enough of dying
Ive had enough of smiling
Ive had enough of smiling
Ive had enough of crying
Ive had enough of crying
Ive taken all the high roads
Ive taken all the high roads
Ive squandered and Ive saved
Ive squandered and Ive saved
Ive had enough of childhood
Ive had enough of childhood
Ive had enough of graves...
Ive had enough of graves...
Get a job and fight to keep it,
Get a job and fight to keep it,
Strike out to reach a mountain.
Strike out to reach a mountain.

[...] Read more

song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Victories Of Love. Book II

I
From Jane To Her Mother

Thank Heaven, the burthens on the heart
Are not half known till they depart!
Although I long'd, for many a year,
To love with love that casts out fear,
My Frederick's kindness frighten'd me,
And heaven seem'd less far off than he;
And in my fancy I would trace
A lady with an angel's face,
That made devotion simply debt,
Till sick with envy and regret,
And wicked grief that God should e'er
Make women, and not make them fair.
That he might love me more because
Another in his memory was,
And that my indigence might be
To him what Baby's was to me,
The chief of charms, who could have thought?
But God's wise way is to give nought
Till we with asking it are tired;
And when, indeed, the change desired
Comes, lest we give ourselves the praise,
It comes by Providence, not Grace;
And mostly our thanks for granted pray'rs
Are groans at unexpected cares.
First Baby went to heaven, you know,
And, five weeks after, Grace went, too.
Then he became more talkative,
And, stooping to my heart, would give
Signs of his love, which pleased me more
Than all the proofs he gave before;
And, in that time of our great grief,
We talk'd religion for relief;
For, though we very seldom name
Religion, we now think the same!
Oh, what a bar is thus removed
To loving and to being loved!
For no agreement really is
In anything when none's in this.
Why, Mother, once, if Frederick press'd
His wife against his hearty breast,
The interior difference seem'd to tear
My own, until I could not bear
The trouble. 'Twas a dreadful strife,
And show'd, indeed, that faith is life.
He never felt this. If he did,
I'm sure it could not have been hid;
For wives, I need not say to you,

[...] Read more

poem by Coventry Patmore
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Whyd You Lie To Me

Why did you lie to me?
Cant be trusted, good for nothing type of brother
Everything you claimed to be was a lie, lie
Why did you lie to me?
Youve been creepin, sneekin, sleepin with another
Messed up, its time to leave, so bye, bye
Used to treat me like a queen
Said I was your everything
Promised me that you would never cheat, on me
But I found a number on the floor
And I wont take it no more
Baby it feels so crazy thinkin youd be true to me, yeah
(tell me baby) did you really think?
(I would maybe) I turn the other cheak and
(and let you play me) I thought you were different but your like the rest its true
Why did you lie to me?
Cant be trusted, good for nothing type of brother
Everything you claimed to be was a lie, lie
Why did you lie to me?
Youve been creepin, sneekin, sleepin with another
Messed up, its time to leave, so bye, bye
Yeah
Ooh, last time you played me like a fool
Now its time I loose my cool
Aint no way youll ever get another chance
Why did you just claimed to be so true
When I gave my world to you
All you wanna do is hang on the edge of the line
(tell me baby) did you really think?
(I would maybe) I turn the other cheak and
(and let you play me) ooh, but I flipped it all for you
(why did you lie to me? ) uh
Cant be trusted, good for nothing type of brother
Everything you claimed to be (was a lie, lie) it was a lie, lie yeah
(why did you lie to me? ) ooooh oooh
Youve been creepin, (sneekin, sleepin with another) hey yeah ooh
(messed up, its time to leave), so bye, bye
(tell me baby) did you really think?
(I would maybe) I turn the other cheak and
(and let you play me) ooh, but I flipped it all for you
(whyd you... lie to me) aah haa
(whyd you... lie to me) oooh oooh ooh oh
(whyd you, whyd you, whyd you, whyd you lie to me)
Whyd you... lie to me
(whyd you, whyd you, whyd you, whyd you lie to me)
(whyd you... lie to me) whyd you lie to me
Why did you lie to me?
Cant be trusted, good for nothing type of brother
Everything you claimed to be was a lie, lie
Why did you lie to me?

[...] Read more

song performed by Anastacia
Added by Lucian Velea
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Satan Absolved

(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.

[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.

Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.

Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.

[...] Read more

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Added by Poetry Lover
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