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Zero Charisma

Cast: Sam Eidson, Anne Gee Byrd, Brock England, Garrett Graham, Cyndi Williams, Katie Folger, Larry Jack Dotson

trailer for Zero Charisma, screenplay by Andrew Matthews (2013)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Soul Surfing

Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack up, jack up
Jack up, jack up
Jack up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack it up, jack up
Jack up, jack up
With your help, turn you on
With your help, turn you on
With your help, turn you on
With your help, turn you on
With your help, turn you on
With your help, turn you on
With your help, turn you on
With your help, with your help, with your with your with your help
With your help, turn you on
With your help, turn you on
With your help, turn you on

[...] Read more

song performed by Fatboy Slim
Added by Lucian Velea
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Allegany Camp

amazing grace circus camp
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amelia earhart in japanese war camp

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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She's Got The Jack

She gave me the Queen
She gave me the King
She was wheelin' and dealin'
Just doin' her thing
She was holdin' a pair
But I had to try
Her Deuce was wild
But my Ace was high
But how was I to know
That she'd been dealt with before
Said she'd never had a Full House
But I should have known
From the tattoo on her left leg
And the garter on her right
She'd have the card to bring me down
If she played it right
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack
She's got the jack
Poker face was her name
Poker face was her nature
Poker straight was her game
If she knew she could get you
She played 'em fast
And she played 'em hard
She could close her eyes
And feel every card
But how was I to know
That she'd been shuffled before
Said she'd never had a Royal Flush
But I should have known
That all the cards were comin'
From the bottom of the pack
And if I'd known what she was dealin' out
I'd have dealt it back
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, and who knows what else?
She's got the jack, yeah, yeah
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, she's got the jack
She's got the jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack, jack
She's got the jack
She's got the jack, she's got the jack,
Ooh, It was a bad deal, (Jack)
She gave me the (Jack), hey
She's got the (Jack), she's got the (Jack)
She's got the (Jack), ooh can't you tell

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song performed by AC-DC
Added by Lucian Velea
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Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part III.

The great farm house of Malcolm Graem stood
Square shoulder'd and peak roof'd upon a hill,
With many windows looking everywhere;
So that no distant meadow might lie hid,
Nor corn-field hide its gold--nor lowing herd
Browse in far pastures, out of Malcolm's ken.
He lov'd to sit, grim, grey, and somewhat stern,
And thro' the smoke-clouds from his short clay pipe
Look out upon his riches; while his thoughts
Swung back and forth between the bleak, stern past,
And the near future, for his life had come
To that close balance, when, a pendulum,
The memory swings between me 'Then' and 'Now';
His seldom speech ran thus two diff'rent ways:
'When I was but a laddie, this I did';
Or, 'Katie, in the Fall I'll see to build
'Such fences or such sheds about the place;
'And next year, please the Lord, another barn.'
Katie's gay garden foam'd about the walls,
'Leagur'd the prim-cut modern sills, and rush'd
Up the stone walls--and broke on the peak'd roof.
And Katie's lawn was like a Poet's sward,
Velvet and sheer and di'monded with dew;
For such as win their wealth most aptly take
Smooth, urban ways and blend them with their own;
And Katie's dainty raiment was as fine
As the smooth, silken petals of the rose;
And her light feet, her nimble mind and voice,
In city schools had learn'd the city's ways,
And grafts upon the healthy, lonely vine
They shone, eternal blossoms 'mid the fruit.
For Katie had her sceptre in her hand
And wielded it right queenly there and here,
In dairy, store-room, kitchen--ev'ry spot
Where women's ways were needed on the place.
And Malcolm took her through his mighty fields,
And taught her lore about the change of crops;
And how to see a handsome furrow plough'd;
And how to choose the cattle for the mart;
And how to know a fair day's work when done;
And where to plant young orchards; for he said,
'God sent a lassie, but I need a son--
'Bethankit for His mercies all the same.'
And Katie, when he said it, thought of Max--
Who had been gone two winters and two springs,
And sigh'd, and thought, 'Would he not be your son?'
But all in silence, for she had too much
Of the firm will of Malcolm in her soul
To think of shaking that deep-rooted rock;
But hop'd the crystal current of his love

[...] Read more

poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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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!'

* * * * *

The Land had put his ruddy gauntlet on,
Of Harvest gold, to dash in Famine's face.
And like a vintage wain, deep dy'd with juice,
The great moon falter'd up the ripe, blue sky,
Drawn by silver stars--like oxen white
And horn'd with rays of light--Down the rich land
Malcolm's small valleys, fill'd with grain, lip-high,
Lay round a lonely hill that fac'd the moon,
And caught the wine-kiss of its ruddy light.
A cusp'd, dark wood caught in its black embrace
The valleys and the hill, and from its wilds,
Spic'd with dark cedars, cried the Whip-poor-will.
A crane, belated, sail'd across the moon;
On the bright, small, close link'd lakes green islets lay,
Dusk knots of tangl'd vines, or maple boughs,
Or tuft'd cedars, boss'd upon the waves.
The gay, enamell'd children of the swamp
Roll'd a low bass to treble, tinkling notes
Of little streamlets leaping from the woods.
Close to old Malcolm's mills, two wooden jaws
Bit up the water on a sloping floor;
And here, in season, rush'd the great logs down,
To seek the river winding on its way.
In a green sheen, smooth as a Naiad's locks,
The water roll'd between the shudd'ring jaws--
Then on the river level roar'd and reel'd--
In ivory-arm'd conflict with itself.
'Look down,' said Alfred, 'Katie, look and see
'How that but pictures my mad heart to you.

[...] Read more

poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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Jack The Idiot Dunce

Whos the fool with the cross-eyed stare,
The turned up nose and moronic glare?
Whos that simpleton standing over there?
Jack, jack the idiot dunce.
Whos that dumb-looking freckle-faced runt?
Jack, jack the idiot dunce.
He walks like his feet are on back to front,
Jack, jack the idiot dunce.
When he waddles down the street he looks kind of queer,
Jack, jack the idiot dunce,
Because hes got two left feet and taxi-door ears,
Jack, jack the idiot dunce.
And when we laugh at the clothes he wears,
Jack just smiles cos he dont care.
Whos that fool? whos that ninny?
Whos that twit? whos that chump?
The idiot dunce, the idiot dunce.
Who is always the bottom of the class?
Jack, jack the idiot dunce.
Whos a fool? whos a boob?
Whos a kook and an ass?
Jack, jack the idiot dunce.
When we take examinations he never gets a pass,
Jack, jack the idiot dunce.
And we all put him down cos he cant think fast,
Jack, jack the idiot dunce.
We ridicule him and punch him around,
But jack just laughs and stands his ground,
The idiot dunce, the idiot dunce.
Yeah, hes so unco-ordinated.
Yeah, and so disorientated,
And when we have a high school hop
You ought to see that idiot bop
And his arms and his legs
Seem to have minds of their own,
And you dont need brains
To have educated muscles and bones.
Yeah, you ought to see him dance
He moves like hes in a trance,
And when we have a high school hop
You ought to see that idiot rock,
And hes finally proved
That you dont need a high i.q.
To make your body move.
Now hes created a dance that everybodys trying to do.
Jack, jack the idiot dunce.
Do the idiot dunce.
All right put your finger on your nose,
Now cross those eyes.
Put your hands on your hips,

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song performed by Kinks
Added by Lucian Velea
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Katie

It may be through some foreign grace,
And unfamiliar charm of face;
It may be that across the foam
Which bore her from her childhood's home,
By some strange spell, my Katie brought,
Along with English creeds and thought --
Entangled in her golden hair --
Some English sunshine, warmth, and air!
I cannot tell -- but here to-day,
A thousand billowy leagues away
From that green isle whose twilight skies
No darker are than Katie's eyes,
She seems to me, go where she will,
An English girl in England still!

I meet her on the dusty street,
And daisies spring about her feet;
Or, touched to life beneath her tread,
An English cowslip lifts its head;
And, as to do her grace, rise up
The primrose and the buttercup!
I roam with her through fields of cane,
And seem to stroll an English lane,
Which, white with blossoms of the May,
Spreads its green carpet in her way!
As fancy wills, the path beneath
Is golden gorse, or purple heath:
And now we hear in woodlands dim
Their unarticulated hymn,
Now walk through rippling waves of wheat,
Now sink in mats of clover sweet,
Or see before us from the lawn
The lark go up to greet the dawn!
All birds that love the English sky
Throng round my path when she is by:
The blackbird from a neighboring thorn
With music brims the cup of morn,
And in a thick, melodious rain
The mavis pours her mellow strain!
But only when my Katie's voice
Makes all the listening woods rejoice
I hear -- with cheeks that flush and pale --
The passion of the nightingale!

Anon the pictures round her change,
And through an ancient town we range,
Whereto the shadowy memory clings
Of one of England's Saxon kings,
And which to shrine his fading fame
Still keeps his ashes and his name.

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poem by Henry Timrod
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Jack o' the Cudgel

Part I

'Twas in the famous town of Windsor, on a fine summer morn,
Where the sign of Windsor Castle did a tavern adorn;
And there sat several soldiers drinking together,
Resolved to make merry in spite of wind or weather.

And old Simon the landlord was at the head of the table,
Cutting slices of beef as quick as he was able;
And one of the soldiers was of rather superior rank,
And on his dress trinkets of gold and silver together did clank.

He was a free companion, but surly and hard,
And a soldier of fortune, and was named Croquard;
And he had all the appearance of his martial calling,
But on this particular morning he was rudely bawling.

So the other soldiers laughed, for their spirits felt gay,
And they applauded his jokes, and let him have his own way,
Because he could command as desperate a gang of men as any in the world,
So many a joke and slur at the soldiers he hurled.

And the mirth increased as the day wore on,
And Croquard didn't seem the least woe-begone;
But, as he was trolling out a very merry song,
A wandering minstrel sat down beside him, and thought it no wrong.

By my troth, shouted Croquard, Come here, minstrel,
And give us a stave of love or war, which is my will:
But the minstrel didn'-t appear to comply with this request,
And he tried to withdraw, as he thought it was best.

Ho ! didst thou hear me, varlet? then Croquard did cry:
Oh! gentle sir, replied the minstrel, I cannot with your wish comply;
Believe me, I sing best to the ladies at the court,
And, in doing so, find it more profitable sport.

What, varlet! cried Croquard, Dost thou refuse me?
By heaven, proud cur, you shall see
And feel the weight of my hand before you are much older:
Then he instantly sprang up, and seized the minstrel by the shoulder.

Then the youth began to tremble, and seemed terrified to death,
And appeared ready to faint for the want of breath;
While Croquard shook him roughly, just like an ugly whelp,
And he looked from one to another, imploring help

At this moment a youth observed what was going on,
And he cried out to Croquard, Inhuman monster, begone!
Leave the minstrel, thou pig-headed giant, or I'll make you repent,

[...] Read more

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part I.

Max plac'd a ring on little Katie's hand,
A silver ring that he had beaten out
From that same sacred coin--first well-priz'd wage
For boyish labour, kept thro' many years.
'See, Kate,' he said, 'I had no skill to shape
Two hearts fast bound together, so I grav'd
Just K. and M., for Katie and for Max.'
'But, look; you've run the lines in such a way,
That M. is part of K., and K. of M.,'
Said Katie, smiling. 'Did you mean it thus?
I like it better than the double hearts.'
'Well, well,' he said, 'but womankind is wise!
Yet tell me, dear, will such a prophecy
Not hurt you sometimes, when I am away?
Will you not seek, keen ey'd, for some small break
In those deep lines, to part the K. and M.
For you? Nay, Kate, look down amid the globes
Of those large lilies that our light canoe
Divides, and see within the polish'd pool
That small, rose face of yours,--so dear, so fair,--
A seed of love to cleave into a rock,
And bourgeon thence until the granite splits
Before its subtle strength. I being gone--
Poor soldier of the axe--to bloodless fields,
(Inglorious battles, whether lost or won).
That sixteen summer'd heart of yours may say:
''I but was budding, and I did not know
My core was crimson and my perfume sweet;
I did not know how choice a thing I am;
I had not seen the sun, and blind I sway'd
To a strong wind, and thought because I sway'd,
'Twas to the wooer of the perfect rose--
That strong, wild wind has swept beyond my ken--
The breeze I love sighs thro' my ruddy leaves.'
'O, words!' said Katie, blushing, 'only words!
You build them up that I may push them down;
If hearts are flow'rs, I know that flow'rs can root--
'Bud, blossom, die--all in the same lov'd soil;
They do so in my garden. I have made
Your heart my garden. If I am a bud
And only feel unfoldment--feebly stir
Within my leaves: wait patiently; some June,
I'll blush a full-blown rose, and queen it, dear,
In your lov'd garden. Tho' I be a bud,
My roots strike deep, and torn from that dear soil
Would shriek like mandrakes--those witch things I read
Of in your quaint old books. Are you content?'
'Yes--crescent-wise--but not to round, full moon.
Look at yon hill that rounds so gently up
From the wide lake; a lover king it looks,

[...] Read more

poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford
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Carrie Ann

The Hollies
Carrie Anne
(Alan Clarke, Tony Hicks & Graham Nash)
Single release 1967
Doo-doo-roo-roo-doot-doot-doo-roo-roo
doo-d-doo-roo-doot-doot-doo-roo-roo
doo-
hey Carrie Anne
hey Carrie Anne
{Allan Clarke vocal:}
When we were at school our games were simple
I played the janitor you played a monitor.
Then you played with older boys and prefects.
What's the attraction in what they're doing?
{All 3 vocal:}
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
{Tony Hicks vocal:}
You're always something special to me.
Quite independent, never caring.
You lost your charm as you were aging
Where is your magic dissappearing?
{All 3 vocal:}
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
{Allan Clarke lead vocal:}
You're so, so like a woman to me
(so like a woman to me)
So (so) so like (so) a woman to me
So like a woman to me.
{interlude}
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
{Graham Nash vocal:}
People live and learn but you're still learning
you use my mind and I'll be your teacher.
When the lesson's over you'll be with me
Then I'll hear the other people saying:
{All 3 vocal:}
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
Carrie Anne (Carrie Anne, Carrie Anne)

song performed by Hollies
Added by Lucian Velea
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Jack Honest, or the Widow and Her Son

Jack Honest was only eight years of age when his father died,
And by the death of his father, Mrs Honest was sorely tried;
And Jack was his father's only joy and pride,
And for honesty Jack couldn't be equalled in the country-side.

So a short time before Jack's father died,
'Twas loud and bitterly for Jack he cried,
And bade him sit down by his bedside,
And then told him to be honest whatever did betide.

John, he said, looking him earnestly in the face,
Never let your actions your name disgrace,
Remember, my dear boy, and do what's right,
And God will bless you by day and night.

Then Mr Honest bade his son farewell, and breathed his last,
While the hot tears from Jack's eyes fell thick and fast;
And the poor child did loudly sob and moan,
When he knew his father had left him and his mother alone.

So, as time wore on, Jack grew to be a fine boy,
And was to his mother a help and joy;
And, one evening, she said, Jack, you are my only prop,
I must tell you, dear, I'm thinking about opening a shop.

Oh! that's a capital thought, mother, cried Jack,
And to take care of the shop I won't be slack;
Then his mother said, Jackey, we will try this plan,
And look to God for his blessing, and do all we can.

So the widow opened the shop and succeeded very well,
But in a few months fresh troubles her befell--
Alas! poor Mrs Honest was of fever taken ill,
But Jack attended his mother with a kindly will.

But, for fear of catching the fever, her customers kept away,
And once more there wasn't enough money the rent to pay;
And in her difficulties Mrs Honest could form no plan to get out,
But God would help her, she had no doubt.

So, one afternoon, Mrs Honest sent Jack away
To a person that owed her some money, and told him not to stay,
But when he got there the person had fled,
And to return home without the money he was in dread.

So he saw a gentleman in a carriage driving along at a rapid rate,
And Jack ran forward to his mansion and opened the lodge-gate,
Then the gentleman opened his purse and gave him, as he thought, a shilling
For opening the lodge-gate so cleverly and so willing.

[...] Read more

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Added by Poetry Lover
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Ego Trippin' 2000

[c.gee] spaceman on the bass..
Classic..
Party peoples, in the place to be
Just for you, it's the ultra-magnetic, mc's!
[c.gee] yeah...
[keith] say what, peter piper?
[c.gee] to hell with childish rhymes!
[keith] cause this jam is just movin
[c.gee] the crowd is steady groovin
[keith] to a supersonic pace
[c.gee] with highs and stupid bass
[keith] with some pep
[c.gee] and the step
[ultra] cause the beat is so funky the pace is well kept
Cause we're..
"ultra.." {magnetic, magnetic} doo doo doo-doo
"mc's ultra.." {magnetic, magnetic} doo doo doo-doo
"mc's ultra.." {magnetic, magnetic} doo doo doo-doo "mc's"
[c.gee] so what's his name? uhh
[keith] i'm kool keith
[kool keith]
They use the simple back and forth, the same, old rhythm
That a baby can pick up, and join, right with them
But their rhymes are pathetic, they think they copacetic
Youse a nerds that returns, at least, not poetic
On a educated base, intelligent wise
As the record just turn, you learn, plus burn
By the flame of the lyrics which cooks the human brain
Providing overheating knowledge, by means causing pain
Make a migraine, hated yourself, start to melt
While the technics spin, the wax is on the belt
Motivating clockwise the more you realize
Moe love's moving steady, by most, with everready
Like a battery, charged, i'm worth the alkaline
Yes the mystery to solve, so seek and define
These words i've given, extremely now driven
With a datsun, a maxima to glide
Yes the wizard kool keith and i'm sportin my ride
Cause we're
"ultra.." {magnetic, magnetic} doo doo doo-doo
"mc's ultra.." {magnetic, magnetic} doo doo doo-doo
"mc's ultra.." {magnetic, magnetic} doo doo doo-doo "mc's"
[c.gee] yeah, what's my name?
Uhh, ced gee
[ced gee]
Usin frequencies and data, i am approximate
Leaving revolutions turning, emerging chemistry
With the precise implications, acheived, ??
Explorating demonstrating, ruling, dominating
Igniting causing friction with nu-clear alarms

[...] Read more

song performed by Ultramagnetic Mc's
Added by Lucian Velea
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New

We knew.
Anne to come.
Anne to come.
Be new.
Be new too.
Anne to come
Anne to come
Be new
Be new too.
And anew.
Anne to come.
Anne anew.
Anne do come.
Anne do come too, to come and to come not to come and as to
and new, and new too.
Anne do come.
Anne knew.
Anne to come.
Anne anew.
Anne to come.
And as new.
Anne to come to come too.
Half of it.
Was she
Windows
Was she
Or mine
Was she
Or as she
For she or she or sure.
Enable her to say.
And enable her to say.
Or half way.
Sitting down.
Half sitting down.
And another way.
Their ships
And please.
As the other side.
And another side
Incoming
Favorable and be fought.
Adds to it.
In half.
Take the place of take the place of take the place of taking
place.
Take the place of in places.
Take the place of taken in place of places.
Take the place of it, she takes it in the place of it. In the way
of arches architecture.

[...] Read more

poem by Gertrude Stein
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The Case Of Conscience

THOSE who in fables deal, bestow at ease
Both names and titles, freely as they please.
It costs them scarcely any thing, we find.
And each is nymph or shepherdess designed;
Some e'en are goddesses, that move below,
From whom celestial bliss of course must flow.

THIS Horace followed, with superior art:--
If, to the trav'ller's bed, with throbbing heart,
The chambermaid approached, 'twas Ilia found,
Or fair Egeria, or some nymph renowned.

GOD, in his goodness, made, one lovely day,
Apollo, who directs the lyrick lay,
And gave him pow'rs to call and name at will,
Like father Adam, with primordial skill.
Said he, go, names bestow that please the ear;
In ev'ry word let sweetest sound appear.
This ancient law then proves, by right divine,
WE oft are sponsors to the royal line.

WHEN pleasing tales and fables I endite,
I, who in humble verse presume to write,
May surely use this privilege of old,
And, to my fancy, appellations mould.
If I, instead of Anne, should Sylvia say,
And Master Thomas (when the case I weigh)
Should change to Adamas, the druid sage,
Must I a fine or punishment engage?
No, surely not:--at present I shall choose
Anne and the Parson for my tale to use.

WITHIN her village, Anne was thought the belle,
And ev'ry other charmer to excel.
As near a river once she chanced to stray,
She saw a youth in Nature's pure array,
Who bathed at ease within the gliding stream;
The girl was brisk, and worthy of esteem,
Her eyes were pleased; the object gave delight;
Not one defect could be produced in sight;
Already, by the shepherdess adored,
If with the belle to pleasing flights he'd soared,
The god of love had all they wished concealed
None better know what should not be revealed.
Anne nothing feared: the willows were her shade,
Which, like Venetian blinds, a cov'ring made;
Her eyes, howe'er, across had easy view,
And, o'er the youth, each beauty could pursue.

SHE back four paces drew, at first, through shame;

[...] Read more

poem by La Fontaine
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The White Cliffs

I
I have loved England, dearly and deeply,
Since that first morning, shining and pure,
The white cliffs of Dover I saw rising steeply
Out of the sea that once made her secure.
I had no thought then of husband or lover,
I was a traveller, the guest of a week;
Yet when they pointed 'the white cliffs of Dover',
Startled I found there were tears on my cheek.
I have loved England, and still as a stranger,
Here is my home and I still am alone.
Now in her hour of trial and danger,
Only the English are really her own.

II
It happened the first evening I was there.
Some one was giving a ball in Belgrave Square.
At Belgrave Square, that most Victorian spot.—
Lives there a novel-reader who has not
At some time wept for those delightful girls,
Daughters of dukes, prime ministers and earls,
In bonnets, berthas, bustles, buttoned basques,
Hiding behind their pure Victorian masks
Hearts just as hot - hotter perhaps than those
Whose owners now abandon hats and hose?
Who has not wept for Lady Joan or Jill
Loving against her noble parent's will
A handsome guardsman, who to her alarm
Feels her hand kissed behind a potted palm
At Lady Ivry's ball the dreadful night
Before his regiment goes off to fight;
And see him the next morning, in the park,
Complete in busbee, marching to embark.
I had read freely, even as a child,
Not only Meredith and Oscar Wilde
But many novels of an earlier day—
Ravenshoe, Can You Forgive Her?, Vivien Grey,
Ouida, The Duchess, Broughton's Red As a Rose,
Guy Livingstone, Whyte-Melville— Heaven knows
What others. Now, I thought, I was to see
Their habitat, though like the Miller of Dee,
I cared for none and no one cared for me.

III
A light blue carpet on the stair
And tall young footmen everywhere,
Tall young men with English faces
Standing rigidly in their places,
Rows and rows of them stiff and staid

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poem by Alice Duer Miller
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Es Ist Nie Vorbei

Together:
Sam bo rom bom
Es ist nie vorbei
Sam bo rom bom
Sam bo rom bom
Ich denk' an dich
Sam bo rom bom
Ich hab sehnsucht nach dir
Blmchen:
Es ist nie vorbei
Es ist zauberei
Verliebt in alle ewigkeit
Manchmal gibt es streit
Aber mit der zeit
Kommt die sehnsucht wieder
Und ich denk' an dich
Und du an mich
Wir sehen uns beide magischen
Es ist nie vorbei
Es ist zauberei
Wie ein unsichtsbares paar
E-type:
We've come a long way
It's been a rough ride
Tell me why all the good things has to come to an end
We've left no stone unturned
Tell me what
How will i miss you already waiting for your return
Together:
Sam bo rom bom
Es ist nie vorbei
Sam bo rom bom
Sam bo rom bom
Ich denk' an dich
Sam bo rom bom
Ich hab sehnsucht nach dir
Blmchen:
Es ist nie vorbei
Es ist zauberei
Verliebt in alle ewigkeit
Manchmal gibt es streit
Aber mit der zeit
Kommt die sehnsucht wieder
Und ich denk' an dich
Und du an mich
Wir sehen uns beide magischen
Es ist nie vorbei
Es ist zauberei
Wie ein unsichtsbares paar
E-type:

[...] Read more

song performed by E-type
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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Jack U Off

If ure looking for somewhere to go
Thought Id take u to a movie show
Sittin in the back and Ill jack u off
I cant give u everything u want
But I can take u to a restaurant
If ure not hungry
Ill jack u off
If your man aint no good
Come on over to my neighborhood
We can jump in the sack and Ill jack u off
If ure tired of the masturbater
Little girl, we can go on a date
And if u like, Ill jack u off
Ill jack u off, jack u off
Ill jack u off, jack u off
Ill jack u off
I only do it for a worthy cause
Viriginity or menopause
Ull have an instant heart attack if I jack u off
If u really really want to be a star
We gotta do it in your mommas car
Naked in a cadillac, Ill jack u off
If we cant find no place to go
Girl, Ill take u to a movie show, we can sit in the back
And Ill jack u off
Ill jack u off, jack u off
Ill jack u off, jack u off
Ill jack u off, yeah
Yeah, yeah, Ill jack u off
Alright say, well put some funk on here
Ill jack u off
If u aint chicken baby, come here
If ure good Ill even let u steer
As a matter of fact, u can jack me off
Yeah, thats right
Ill jack u off, yeah
Ill jack u off

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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To Jack

SO, I’ve battled it through on my own, Jack,
I have done with all dreaming and doubt.
Though “stoney” to-night and alone, Jack,
I am watching the Old Year out.
I have finished with brooding and fears,
Jack, And the spirit is rising in me,
For the sake of the old New Years, Jack,
And the bright New Years to be.

I have fallen in worldly disgrace, Jack,
And I know very well that you heard;
They have blackened my name in this place, Jack,
And I answered them never a word.
But why should I bluster or grieve,
Jack? So narrow and paltry they be—
I knew you would never believe, Jack,
The lies that were said against me.

That is done which shall never be undone,
And I blame not, I blame not my land,
But I’m hearing the Calling of London,
And I long for the roar of the Strand.
It was always the same with our race,
Jack; You know how a vagabond feels—
We can fight a straight man face to face, Jack.
But we can’t keep the curs from our heels.

You know I loved women and drink, Jack,
And that’s how the trouble began;
But you know that I never would shrink,
Jack, From a deed that was worthy a man!
I never was paltry or mean, Jack.
And cruel I never could be,
I will give you a hand which is clean,
Jack, When we meet again over the sea.

I will bring a few wrinkles of care,
Jack; I have altered a lot, I am told;
The steel-filings show in my hair, Jack;
But my heart is as young as of old.
I have faith still in women, and men, Jack,
Though selfish and blind they may be.
I still have my soul and my pen, Jack,
And my country seems dearer to me.

I will sail when your summer sets in, Jack,
And good-bye to my own native land;
Oh, I long for a glimpse of your grin, Jack,
And I long for the grip of your hand.
We both suffered sorrow and pain, Jack,

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poem by Henry Lawson
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Jack and Kath (long poem)

Jack Benbow and his younger sister Kath
went for a walk along a winding path.
This led them through some very high trees
past some bluebells and buzzing bee’s.

The birds sang their songs on this sunny day
as the children happily went their way.
Along the path they skipped and walked,
singing and playing as they talked.

They came across a clearing in the wood
where a sign pointed to Notsogood.
“What a funny name for a place, ” said Kath.”
“Yes, ” said Jack, “but it’s time to head back.

We’ll go back the same way as we came
and follow the path back home again.”
But the path led them deeper into the wood
and up to another sign to Notsogood.

“Kath, didn’t we pass that sign earlier today,
surely we must head back the other way? ”
So they turned around and began to walk back.
“Look, ” said Kath, “there’s another sign Jack.

And that’s also pointing to Notsogood,
how do we get out of this silly wood? ”
“Let’s just follow the sign and see where it goes
it’s better than following the end of your nose.”

The winding path went from wide to narrow
as the dark clouds made it harder to follow.
Over a stream and home cooking filled the air,
it led to a shack, with a cat sleeping on a chair.

The rickety fence led them down the overgrown path,
“Let’s knock on the door for directions, ” said Kath.
The door slowly opened with a long drawn out creak,
an old woman in black appeared who began to speak.

“Hello happy children what a nice pleasant surprise, ”
as she looked at them closely with her piercing eyes.
“I was just about to make a lovely pot of herbal of tea,
would you like to join Malapropis and me? ”

“Malapropis, is that really the name of your cat? ”
“Yes it is, and all she ever does is get incredibly fat.”
This old woman’s nails were dirty, long and pointed,
and her nose and chin was bent and disjointed.

[...] Read more

poem by Orlando Belo
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