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A camel never sees its own hump.

African proverbs
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Humps

(trumpets)
*sighs*
What you gon do with all that junk, all that junk inside your trunk?
Imma get-get-get-get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump.
My hump my hump, my hump my hump my hump.
My hump my hump my hump. My lovely little lumps.
Check it out
I drive these brothers crazy; I do it on the day
Look, they treat me really nicely; they buy me all these ices:
Dolce and Gabbana, Vinny and Nedonna.
Caring, they be sharing all their money, got me wearing fly
Brother I aint asking, they say they love my ass and
Seven jeans to religion, I say no but they keep giving
So I keep on taking, and no I aint taking,
We can keep on dating, I keep on demonstrating my love.
My love my love my love. You love my lady lumps.
My hump my hump my hump. My humps, they got you
Shes got me spending(ooh)
Spending all your money on me, and spending time on me [x2]
On, on me, on me.
What you gon do with all that junk, all that junk inside that trunk?
Imma get-get-get-get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump.
What you gon do with all that ass, all that ass inside them jeans?
Imma make-make-make-make you scream, make you scream make you scream!
Cuz of my hump, my hump my hump my hump,
My hump my hump my hump, my lovely lady lumps.
Check it out
I met a girl down at the disco, she said:
Hey, hey-hey yeh lets go. I could be your baby; you could be my honey, lets spend time, not money and:
Mix your milk with my cocoa, puh - milky, milky cocoa, mix your milk with my cocoa, huh - milky, milky right
They say Im really sexy. Them boys, they wanna sex me,
They always standing next to me, always dancing next to me.
Trying to feel my hump, hump, looking at my lump, lump,
You can look but you cant touch it, if you touch it
Imma start some drama, you dont want no drama.
Nono drama, nononono drama.
So dont pull on my hand boy, you aint my man boy
Im just trying to dance boy, and move my hump, my hump,
My hump my hump my hump, my hump my hump my hump,
My hump my hump my hump, my lovely lady lumps,
My lovely lady lumps, my lovely lady lumps,
In the back and in the front, my loving got you
Shes got me spending(ooh)
Spending all your money on me, and spending time on me [x2]
On, on me, on me.
What you gon do with all that junk, all that junk inside that trunk?
Imma get-get-get-get you drunk, get you love drunk off my hump.
What you gon do with all that ass, all that ass inside them jeans?
Imma make-make-make-make you scream, make you scream make you scream!
What you gon do with all that junk, all that junk inside that trunk?

[...] Read more

song performed by Black Eyed Peas
Added by Lucian Velea
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Yinged and Yanged

If I never ever see you,
You'd be fine!
And I'd be too!

If you never see the 'me' I am,
I still will not deserve
To be kicked to the curb and slammed.

'Cause I believe I've yinged and yanged my needs.
Doing yoga to get over.
Making my life much more easier for me.

And I do it to get over the hump!
I do it to get over the hump.
Yes I do it to get over the hump.
Taking every lump and crushing it to dump!

I do it to get over the hump!
I do it to get over the hump.
Yes I do it to get over the hump.
Taking every lump and crushing it to dump!

If I never ever see you,
You'd be fine!
And I'd be too!

'Cause I believe I've yinged and yanged my needs.
Doing yoga to get over.
Making my life much more easier me.

And I do it to get over the hump!
I do it to get over the hump.
Yes I do it to get over the hump.
And taking every lump and crushing it to dump!

I do it to get over the hump!
I do it to get over the hump.
Yes I do it to get over the hump.
And taking every lump and crushing it to dump!

'Cause I do yoga.
And I ain't bi-polar.
I don't drink soda.
To stir my motor.

As I grow older,
I don't cry on shoulders.
I get right up!
And I strut my stuff,
With a strength that's tough.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How the Camel Got His Hump

The Camel's hump is an ugly lump
Which well you may see at the Zoo;
But uglier yet is the hump we get
From having too little to do.

Kiddies and grown-ups too-oo-oo,
If we haven't enough to do-oo-oo,
We get the hump--
Cameelious hump--
The hump that is black and blue!

We climb out of bed with a frouzly head,
And a snarly-yarly voice.
We shiver and scowl and we grunt and we growl
At our bath and our boots and our toys;

And there ought to be a corner for me
(And I know' there is one for you)
When we get the hump--
Cameelious hump--
The hump that is black and blue!

The cure for this ill is not to sit still,
Or frowst with a book by the fire;
But to take a large hoe and a shovel also,
And dig till you gently perspire;

And then you will find that the sun and the wind,
And the Djinn of the Garden too,
Have lifted the hump--
The horrible hump--
The hump that is black and blue!

I get it as well as you-oo-oo--
If I haven't enough to do-oo-oo!
We all get hump--
Cameelious hump--
Kiddies and grown-ups too!

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The Camels Hump

The Camel's hump is an ugly lump
Which well you may see at the Zoo;
But uglier yet is the hump we get
From having too little to do.

Kiddies and grown-ups too-oo-oo,
If we haven't enough to do-oo-oo,
We get the hump-
Cameelious hump-
The hump that is black and blue!

We climb out of bed with a frouzly head,
And a snarly-yarly voice.
We shiver and scowl and we grunt and we growl
At our bath and our boots and our toys;

And there ought to be a corner for me
(And I know' there is one for you)
When we get the hump-
Cameelious hump-
The hump that is black and blue!

The cure for this ill is not to sit still,
Or frowst with a book by the fire;
But to take a large hoe and a shovel also,
And dig till you gently perspire;

And then you will find that the sun and the wind,
And the Djinn of the Garden too,
Have lifted the hump-
The horrible hump-
The hump that is black and blue!

I get it as well as you-oo-oo-
If I haven't enough to do-oo-oo!
We all get hump-
Cameelious hump-
Kiddies and grown-ups too!

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The Poem of Imru al Qays

Stop, oh my friends, let us pause to weep over the remembrance of my beloved.
Here was her abode on the edge of the sandy desert between Dakhool and Howmal.

The traces of her encampment are not wholly obliterated even now.
For when the South wind blows the sand over them the North wind sweeps it away.

The courtyards and enclosures of the old home have become desolate;
The dung of the wild deer lies there thick as the seeds of pepper.

On the morning of our separation it was as if I stood in the gardens of our tribe,
Amid the acacia-shrubs where my eyes were blinded with tears by the smart from the bursting pods of colocynth.

As I lament thus in the place made desolate, my friends stop their camels;
They cry to me 'Do not die of grief; bear this sorrow patiently.'

Nay, the cure of my sorrow must come from gushing tears.
Yet, is there any hope that this desolation can bring me solace?

So before ever I met Unaizah, did I mourn for two others;
My fate had been the same with Ummul-Huwairith and her neighbor Ummul-Rahab in Masal.

Fair were they also, diffusing the odor of musk as they moved,
Like the soft zephyr bringing with it the scent of the clove.

Thus the tears flowed down on my breast, remembering days of love;
The tears wetted even my sword-belt, so tender was my love.

Behold how many pleasant days have I spent with fair women;
Especially do I remember the day at the pool of Darat-i-Juljul.2

On that day I killed my riding camel for food for the maidens:
How merry was their dividing my camel's trappings to be carried on their camels.

It is a wonder, a riddle, that the camel being saddled was yet unsaddled!
A wonder also was the slaughterer, so heedless of self in his costly gift!

Then the maidens commenced throwing the camel's flesh into the kettle;
The fat was woven with the lean like loose fringes of white twisted silk.

[...] Read more

poem by Imru al Qays Ibn Hujr
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Love Having You Around

Please,
Mama, mama, mama,
Mama, mama, baby,
Baby, baby, baby,
Mama, mama, mama,
Baby, baby, baby,
Listen baby,
Every day I want to fly my kite,
Every day I want to fly my kite,
An every day I want to get on my camel an ride.
Oo yea
Every day I want to shake your hand, yea, yea, yea,
For in the world makin me a better man,
An every day I want to get on my camel an ride
(on my camel ride, on my camel)
Oo baby
And when the day is through,
Nothin to do, sit around groovin with you,
And I say it cause I love having you around,
And I say it cause I love having you around. yea
Everyday I want to be your friend, (be your friend)
cause you have stuck with me through thick and thin
An every day I want a smile in your lovely brown eyes,
(smile at your lovely brown eyes)
Oh yea
Every day Im gonna give my share,
cause I know your gonna take me there, (hey, hey)
An every day I want to get on my camel an ride, oo
(get on my camel)
And when the day is done,
Nothin to do, spend all my time just loving you, (oh, yea)
An I say it cause I love having you around, mm baby
And I say it cause I love oo having you around
Yea, yea, yea, yea, yea
Yea, yea, yea
An in the end I know youll be with me,
cause you made my soul so free, (so everyday)
An every day I wanna get on my camel an ride, yea
(on my camel)
And when the day is through,
Nothin to do, spend all my time just lovin you
An I say it cause I love yea having you around.
(love having you around)
And I say it cause I love having you around yea, yea, yea
An I say it cause I love having you around (having you around baby)
And I say it cause I love (cant you hear me people? ) having you around
(cant you hear me people? )
And I say it cause I love having you around
(cant you hear me say it? cant you hear me say it baby? )
And I say it cause I love having you around

[...] Read more

song performed by Stevie Wonder
Added by Lucian Velea
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Same Song

[Chorus: repeat 2X]
All around the world same song
All all around the world same song
[Shock G]
I came for the party to get naughty get my rocks on
eat popcorn watch you move your body to the pop song
that I'm singing dinga linging funky beats ringing
everybody's swinging in the place
as I kick the J A Z Z Y is my style
R&B mixing it with the hip hop swing beat
Champagne in my hand, it wont be long till I'm gone
It's just the same old song
[Humpty Hump]
It's just a freestyle, meanwhile, we keep the beat kickin
sweat drippin, girlies in the limo eatin chicken
oops don't get the grease on your pantyhose
I love ya Rover, move over, I gotta blow my nose
Sneezin, but still I'm pleasin to all the slimmies
Pull out my jimmie, time to get busy wit a Jenny
if it's good and plenty, dont you know
there I go, there I go, there I go
But I dont go nowhere without my jim hat
If I'm rappin, cause she's clappin
then I'm strappin cause I'm smarter than that
then girlie maybe we can get along
Cutie after cutie, it's just the same old song
[Chorus: repeat 3X]
[Money B]
Money B, the freaky deaky, the sqeaky meaky up and down
as a matter of fact ill be right back i gotta take a leak
So I'm drainin entertainin, but I got fame
and the bases I touch to much for me tryin to be namin
Aiyyo, you saw me on cable and gip
I busted in and I was goin legit
Clark Gable back in Pakland its the same old song
sport these shorties, same freckles and hat
drinkin the same 40's
[Humpty Hump]
hypothetical, political, lyrical, miracle whip
just like butter, my ryhmes are legit
Cause I'm the humpty. not humpty dumpty, but humpty hump
here a hump, there a hump, everywhere a hump
[Shock G]
ah shut up and just listen
not dissin dont get me wrong
but to me its just the same old song
so just watch, my name is shock, and i like to rock
and you cant stop this
2Pac go ahead and rock this
[2Pac]

[...] Read more

song performed by 2 Pac
Added by Lucian Velea
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They've Put A Brassiere On A Camel

They've put a brassiere on a camel,
She wasn't dressed proper, you know.
They've put a brassiere on a camel,
So that her humps wouldn't show.
And they're making other respectable plans,
They're even even insisting the pigs should wear pants,
They'll dress up the ducks if we give them the chance
Since they've put a brassiere on a camel.
They've put a brassiere on a camel,
They claim she's more decent that way.
They've put a brassiere on a camel,
The camel had nothing to say.
They squeezed her into it, i'll never know how,
They say that she looks more respectable now,
Lord knows what they've got in mind for the cow,
Since they've put a brassiere on a camel.

poem by Sheldon Allan Silverstein
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Light In My Darkness

as the day gets closeri ponder on what i told her she sees the light in my darkness as i wonder what she has caressed and she sees my poteintial as i am hororendously altered to what i am yet to be and she sees me for who i truely am as i slam my fist into this door a crippleing blow i should say as i lay here wondering why she sees light in my dark ness

as light filter through a darkness that is so true we wander thy dark wood wondering how to find our fate not to hate the one ho put us through wondering pondering why she sees the light filter through a darkness that is so true

as light penitrates my dark and wounded heart paying no mind to what it has healed as i seal my fate of which i take and it to claims me as a true dark but light finds my soul and she sees the light in my darkness that is so true

i am not as dark as i seem to be cuase she sees the light in me and i see the light in her which i truely pefer

and as i ponder on which i have said and i have sped down the road of life which is truely darkand she has saved me because she sees the light in my darkness of which i may contort due to the light she sees
as the darkness is contorted to see optimistically of all this strife as this knife drops to the floor as the darkness begins to contort
with this life i shall change as li lay me down to sleep i pray my soul the lord to keep if i die before i wke i pray my soul the lord to take as i partake in this in a heavenly manner i believe i see the light in my darkness as i see ture the beloved i shoved all my grief down the drain and she sees the light in my darkness as do i

hate is a fate that we we all can partake as we see the key to life as the kife is droped to the floor as the door slams into its jam life is contorted and then altered as we all can falter as the slaughter of man takes place as an ace is droped on the table as we all can tell this is a fable to be heard as a hearse takes your friend to her grave and she told me to say this that you are gay like the fey folk al i sasy this life flies by as shooting star and the i drive my car off a cliff into a tidal rift and float to the very end as i send a message to those who dont have hope and then i float to the land of the dead to spread this hate as we partake in the slaughter of man as i pretend the light was never spread and as i am beheaded by the beast with three heads as a hockey puck goes throgh a staind glass window as she is made a widow because of the war of the worlds and the darkness is once more contorted to her will and she sees me and the light in the darkness

forsay to end this fable i say to thee my life is a creed of which to be fallowed as i swallow the waters of the holyto souly depend on her to see tme for who i am truely am and thy light with in me thierein lies the secret of life which we all pass and not see as light filters through allof the dark and not lighted as my foresight is met light and dark meet for one last battle as life begins to contort and falter

then again life is always contorting to her will and the light spreads through a darkeness so trueonce more she sees the light in me in order to see the doves fly for her love for me cause she sees light in me and as i weave a tread so thin i send a message of hope in order to cope with the sin of man as i tan the hide of the beast so fierce that has dieed due to the light she brought me cuz she sees the light with in me

poem by Andy Pierce
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A Camel

A camel
That walks alone
Across the desert unending
Has no pretentions.
Every camel is so.

A camel
That has a hump large and
A physique strong
Is a marvel to none.
No marvel at all.

A camel
Treads before me at times
Leaving a track to follow and
I carry my small luggage
No caravan is seen.

A camel,
A desert,
A track and
Me.
There is a breeze blowing from somewhere!

poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Jump And Thump

Jump and thump.
Move your hump.
Jump and thump.
Move your hump.
Jump and thump.
Move your hump.
Jump and thump.
Move your hump.
Jump and thump.
Jump and thump.
When you're drunk,
jump and thump.
Move your hump.
Jump and thump,
when you're drunk.
Jump and thump.
Jump and thump.
When you're drunk.
Jump and thump.
(Transcribed by ear; corrections requested and welcomed!)

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Jump & Thump

Jump and thump.
Move your hump.
Jump and thump.
Move your hump.
Jump and thump.
Move your hump.
Jump and thump.
Move your hump.
Jump and thump.
Jump and thump.
When youre drunk,
Jump and thump.
Move your hump.
Jump and thump,
When youre drunk.
Jump and thump.
Jump and thump.
When youre drunk.
Jump and thump.

song performed by Van Morrison
Added by Lucian Velea
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Polka Your Eyes Out

Rock the cradle of love. rock the cradle of love
Yes, the cradle of love
Dont rock easy, its true
Rock the cradle of love
I rocked the cradle of love
Yes, the cradle of love
Dont rock easy, its true
Doo doo doo doo doo doodoo doo doo doo doo doo doo doodoo doo
(doo doo doo doo doo doodoo doo doo doo doo doo doo doodoo doo)
The love shack is a little old place where
We can get together
Love shack, baby
(love shack, baby, love shack)
Hey!
Pump up the jam (hey!). pump up the jam (hey!)
Pump up the jam, pump it up!
Thats me in the corner
Thats me in the spotlight, losing my religion
Trying to keep a view
And I dont know if I can to it
Oh no, Ive said too much
I havent said enough
The things you say
Your purple prose just gives you away
The things you say
Youre unbelieveable
(oh!)
Do me, baby. do me, baby
You can do me in the morning, you can do me in the night
You can do me when you wanna do me
Yodalodaladyhoo!
Exit light
Enter night
Take my hand
Off to never never land
The humpty dance is your chance to do the hump
Do me, baby
Do the humpty hump, do the humpty hump
Do me, baby
Do the humpty hump, come on and do the humpty hump
Shes my cherry pie
Put a smile on your face ten miles wide
Look so good, make a grown man cry
Sweet cherry pie-yi-yi
Woo!
Drum solo!
I miss you so much (m-o-i miss you so much)
I really miss you much (m-i-s-s you so much)
I miss you so much (m-o-i miss you so much)
I really miss you much

[...] Read more

song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
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“Shouting” for a Camel

It was over at Coolgardie that a mining speculator,
Who was going down the township just to make a bit o' chink,
Went off to hire a camel from a camel propagator,
And the Afghan said he'd lend it if he'd stand the beast a drink.
Yes, the only price he asked him was to stand the beast a drink.
He was cheap, very cheap, as the dromedaries go.
So the mining speculator made the bargain, proudly thinking
He had bested old Mahomet, he had done him in the eye.
Then he clambered on the camel, and the while the beast was drinking
He explained with satisfaction to the miners standing by
That 'twas cheap, very cheap, as the dromedaries go.

But the camel kept on drinking and he filled his hold with water,
And the more he had inside him yet the more he seemed to need;
For he drank it by the gallon, and his girths grew taut and tauter,
And the miners muttered softly, 'Yes he's very dry indeed!
But he's cheap, very cheap, as dromedaries go.'

So he drank up twenty buckets -- it was weird to watch him suck it,
(And the market price for water was per bucket half-a-crown)
Till the speculator stopped him, saying, 'Not another bucket --
If I give him any more there'll be a famine in the town.
Take him back to old Mahomet, and I'll tramp it through the town.'
He was cheap, very cheap, as the speculators go.

There's a moral to this story -- in your hat you ought to paste it --
Be careful whom you shout for when a camel is about,
And there's plenty human camels who, before they'll see you waste it,
Will drink up all you pay for if you're fool enough to shout;
If you chance to strike a camel when you're fool enough to shout,
You'll be cheap, very cheap, as the speculators go.

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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Shouting' For A Camel

It was over at Coolgardie that a mining speculator,
Who was going down the township just to make a bit o' chink,
Went off to hire a camel from a camel propagator,
And the Afghan said he'd lend it if he'd stand the beast a drink.
Yes, the only price he asked him was to stand the beast a drink.
He was cheap, very cheap, as the dromedaries go.

So the mining speculator made the bargain, proudly thinking
He had bested old Mahomet, he had done him in the eye.
Then he clambered on the camel, and the while the beast was drinking
He explained with satisfaction to the miners standing by
That 'twas cheap, very cheap, as the dromedaries go.

But the camel kept on drinking and he filled his hold with water,
And the more he had inside him yet the more he seemed to need;
For he drank it by the gallon, and his girths grew taut and tauter,
And the miners muttered softly, 'Yes he's very dry indeed!
But he's cheap, very cheap, as dromedaries go.'

So he drank up twenty buckets, it was weird to watch him suck it,
(And the market price for water was per bucket half-a-crown)
Till the speculator stopped him, saying, 'Not another busket,
If I give him any more there'll be a famine in the town.
Take him back to old Mahomet, and I'll tramp it through the town.'
He was cheap, very cheap, as the speculators go.

There's a moral to this story, in your hat you ought to paste it,
Be careful whom you shout for when a camel is about,
And there's plenty human camels who, before they'll see you waste it,
Will drink up all you pay for if you're fool enough to shout;
If you chance to strike a camel when you're fool enough to shout,
You'll be cheap, very cheap, as the speculators go.

poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Added by Poetry Lover
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In the Spirit of Rumi-39-The Desert

As the cool dawn brings the light
to the desert where the blue-white sky
meets the sand that time and man have brought,
and you wake the camel boy
to lead the camels from the waterside –

before you mount the lurching beast
and sway off into the desert on your path,
the camel-bells tinkling on the harness,

look into the camel’s eyes.
There you will see mingled,
pride in its being; patience in its duty.

The wise men say that God is found
where opposites meet and are resolved.
Proud in its being, patient in its duty –
no great wonder, then, that the camel
has been chosen of God to take you
across the desert of your destiny in faith and trust;

for in the world of metaphor, where man meets God
in the mind’s own language,
the camel is your body; dutiful proud servant
for the journey you must take; your company
for the length of time that journey takes.

So, traveller, when you reach the green and cool oasis
at the ending of the day’s sufficient journey -
first tie your camel by the waters of refreshment
before you kneel; for food; for prayer; then
resting in the bright-eyed company;
the eyes of those who scan the round horizon as they ride
and wonder always, what oasis lies beyond.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Zoheyr

Woe is me for 'Ommi 'Aufa! Woe for the tents of her
lost on thy stony plain, Durráj, on thine, Mutethéllemi!
In Rákmatéyn I found our dwelling, faint lines how desolate,
tent--markstraced like the vein--tracings blue on the wrists of her.
Large--eyed there the wild--kine pastured, white roes how fearlessly,
leaped, their fawns beside them, startled: I in the midst of them.
Twenty years abroad I wander. Lo, here I stand to--day,
hardly know the remembered places, seek I how painfully.
Here our hearth--stones stand, ay, blackened still with her cooking--pots,
here our tent--trench squarely graven, grooved here our camel--trough.
Love, when my eyes behold thy dwelling, to it I call aloud:
Blessed be thou, O house of pleasure, greeting and joy to thee!

Friend of my soul! Dost thou behold them? Say, are there maidens there,
camel--borne, high in their howdahs, over the Júrthum spring?
Say, are their curtains lined with scarlet, sanguine embroideries,
veiling them from eyes of all men, rose--tinted coverings?
Slantwise up El Subáan they mounted: high--set the pass of it.
With them the new--born morning's beauty, fair--faced and fortunate.
At the blink of dawn they rose and laded. Now, ere the sun is up,
point they far to Wády Ras, straight as hand points to mouth.
Joy! Sweet joy of joys! Fair visions, human in tenderness,
dear to the human eye that truly sees them and understands!
As the scarlet fringe of fénna seed--pods no lip hath browsed upon,
so is the dye of their scarlet wool new--fringing the camping--grounds.
And they came to the watering pool in the red rocks: blue--black the depths of it.
And they planted the tent--poles, straight and fairly, firm for a dwelling--place.
They have left Kanáan on the far right hand: dark--crowned the crest of it.
How many foes in El Kanáan! And friends, too, ah, how many!
But they came to El Subáan in their might, impetuous, beautiful,
they in their howdahs of scarlet wool. O friend, dost thou look on them?

I have sworn by the most illustrious dwelling, shrine of processioners,
house revered of Koréysh and Júrhum, founded in piety.
I have sworn my praise to the two chieftains, men of what hardihood,
prompt todo when need shall call them, light deeds and doughty deeds.
Strove ye well, ye Lords of Mórra, what though the clans of you
long had drwoned in blood their friendship, drowned it in war--clamours.
Ye with Abs and Dóbián that day ye persuaded them,
spite of feud and their death--dealing perfumes of mínshami.
For thus ye spake: Let peace be garnered, all the fair wealth of it,
based onpay and fair exchanges, ours to establish it.
Theirs the peace and yours the glory, high names and dignities,
you the nobletwain prevailing, purging the rage of them.
Lo, in Maád ye stand exalted, ye the high--guided ones.
He who a booty brings of glory, shall he not share in it?
Healing of wounds ye dealed in hundreds, hundreds of debt--camels,
guiltless you for the death--guilty, ending the feud of them.
Tribe and tribe, you paid the ransom, what though the hands of you
clean were of blood and the red shedding, ay, the least cup of it.

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poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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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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Long Necked Ruminant

Long Necked Ruminant

So you think a camel is just an ugly animal,
a camel has kissable lips and eyes like
Marilyn Monroe; and it gives milk, low fat and
nourishing. But I bet you didn’t know that.

When a four wheel, stops by lack of petrol in
the sand of Sahara, the camel with its padded
cloves trudges along, smells like hell, but
who cares when it can bring you to an oasis.

Sweet dates, cold water and languor under
palm trees, a dream comes true, but do not
forget it was a camel that brought you there.
And have you ever tasted camel cheese?

poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Pillage Hangman - Parody LONGFELLOW - The Village Blacksmith

Under a spreading chestnut tree
The village smithy stands;
The Smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.

His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate'er he can
And looks the whole world in the face
For he owes not any man.

Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming furge,
And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing floor.

He goes on Sunday to the church
and sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach.
He hears his daughter's voice
singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.

It sounds to him like her mother's voice,
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his hard, rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes.

Toiling, -rejoicing, -sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose.

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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