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The camera can photograph thought.

quote by Dirk Bogarde
Added by Lucian Velea
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Smile For The Camera

I see you standing out there in the hall
You seem so nervous waiting for his call
I focus on you
I reach for the lens
The shutter snaps again
(smile)
Smile for the camera
You know
(smile)
The camera never ever lies
Ive been watching you with
Eager hungry eyes
For sometime
(smile)
I hold my lens in the middle of the night
Visions of you dancing in the strobe light
Up on my wall is a picture or two
Of someone who looks like you
(smile)
Smile for the camera
You know
(smile)
The camera is my wide lens
(smile)
You know the camera is my private eye
I got color transparencies
I got black and white
(smile)
Smile for the camera
You know that
(smile)
Cameras never ever lies
(smile)
Ive been watching you with telephoto eyes
For some time
(smile)
Smile for me
(come on)
Smile for me
(come on)
Smile for me
(come on)
Smile for me
(come on)
Smile for me
(come on)
Smile for me
(come on)
(smile)
Wont you smile for the camera

[...] Read more

song performed by Rick Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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Carrolling II-Parody Lewis CARROLL–The Mad Gardener’s Song

Carolling II

He Thought He Saw

He thought he saw new Internet
exchanging peer to peer,
he looked again and found it was
a mirage for each year
sees more control, “what rôle, ” he said,
“for values once held dear?
Some track to trace attack and get
convictions based on fear.'

He dreamt he saw spam disappear,
all consultations free,
he looked again and found it was
a spybot lottery.
“Is net neutrality”, he said,
“from rash risks viral clear? ”

He dreamt that Microsoft would steer
all trash deleted fast,
then woke to find world insincere
where independence past
was sacrificed throughout the year
to biometrics ghast.

He thought he saw a friend’s hello,
with an attachment piece,
he looked again and found it was
the porno scanning police.
“Politically correct”, he said,
“can’t guarantee release.”

He opened it, discovered though,
a trojan horse to fleece –
he looked again as data flow
declined, - mind not at peace -
and whispered with voice hoarse and low:
'when will our worries cease? ”

He thought he saw a hierophant,
who’d deal successful life,
he looked again and found it was
subpoena from ex-wife
demanding child support, he said,
“cards are cut by Time’s knife.”

He looked once more with rage and rant
and swore like a fishwife

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Carrolling - Parody Lewis CARROLL – The Mad Gardener’s Song

He thought he saw an Internet
exchanging peer to peer,
he looked again and hedged his bet, -
by middle of next year
new routing tables tuned as yet
unknown may well appear –
on track to trace attack and get
convictions based on fear.

He dreamt that spam would disappear,
all trash deleted fast.
He dreamt that Windows would be clear
of viral bugs’ wormcast.
He woke to find world insincere
where independence past
was sacrificed throughout the year
to biometrics ghast.

He thought he saw a friend’s hello
with an attachment piece,
he opened to discover, though,
a trojan horse release –
He looked again as data flow
declined, - mind not at peace -
and whispered with voice timbre low:
‘I’ll send for the Police! ”

He thought he saw a heirophant
predicting happy life.
He looked again, with rage and rant
discovered from ex-wife
an email angry claiming scant
support, which threatened strife:
“At length I see the immanent
attraction of Time’s knife! ”

He dreamt he saw as he awake
the euro reach a peak,
he saw he dreamt that Bush half bake
would leave the dollar weak: -
he woke to find what grave mistake
was made for the next week
the politicians put a stake
in budget – rocked boats leak!

He thought he saw Commission clerk
jump on bandwagon bus,
he looked again, just for a lark,
and found no tinker’s cuss
the former cared for bite was bark -

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Michael Caine

Well get ya ya ya
Well get ya ya ya
(I am michael caine)
La la la la la la la la
Hes walking where Im afraid I dont know
I see the firemen jumping from the windows
Theres panic and I hear somebody scream
He picks up useless paper and puts it in my pocket
Im trying very hard to keep my fingers clean
I cant remember tell me whats his name
(my name is michael caine)
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep at home
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep
The sun is laughing its another broken morning
I see a shadow and call out to try and warn him
He didnt seem to hear just turned away
The quiet fellow follows
And points his finger straight at you
He had to sacrifice his pride, yes
And throw it all away
(I am micheal caine)
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep at home
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep
His days are numbered he walks round and round in circles
There is no place he can ever call his own
He seems to jump at the sound of the phone
Staring out the window theres nothing he can now do
All he wanted was to remain sane
He cant remer hisemb own name
(my name is michael caine)
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep at home
And all I wanted was a word or photograph to keep
All I wanted was a word or photograph
All I wanted was a word or photograph to keep

song performed by Madness
Added by Lucian Velea
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Fitration Bags

2.5 gallon shopvac bags
1995 ktm 400 rxc hard bags
2006 black leather prada bags list
24 x 36 shrink bags
18 x 9 padded bag
3m printscape personalized gift bag
20lb bag parrot food
40 inch round duffle bag
2001 explorer air bag light flashes
3rd street sissy bar bag
1997 nissan air bag sensor
12x18 carry bag
1001 grab bag ideas
2000 explorer air bag light flashing
15,000 cfm used bag dustcollector
12 lb turkey recipies in bag
14.1 laptop messenger bags
3306 plan tackle bag
10 pound bag of endives yield
4 mil zip bags
$2 grab bag nsd
1970s bean bag
18th century shooting bags
48 superman bop bag
2006 kawasaki ninja 250r bags
1976 electra glide saddle bags
1940 s english aoutomobiles gas bags
40 lb bag of cement
07 cr-v safety bag plastic pillar
2 gauge ear plug grab bag
1998 saturn sl2 air bag module
40 degree helix sleeping bag
3x4 organza gift bags
3 bags full consignment
2000 mercedes air bag problem
2ply snap handle bag
1987 bmw k75s saddle bags
2003 bozo desktop bop bag
135 approved electronic flight bag
2005 toyota matrix side air bags
2006 bag gucci spring
3 insulated sleeping bags
4in bag ice one
2008 street bob hard bags
45 micron bag
250 ninja nelson-rigg saddle bag
24 wheeled garment bag
1996 lincoln continental air bag suspension
2006 aka boule bag
400d horn bag

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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She Thought She Saw-Parody Lewis CARROLL–The Mad Gardener’s Song

She Thought She Saw

She thought she saw quite equal pay
afforded equal work,
she looked again and found it was
a most unusual quirk.
“That men should keep their cake, ” she said,
“and eat it too, must irk.”

She thought she saw that light of day
would filter through each jerk,
she looked again and found it was
belief most held beserk.
“That men should nappies change, ” she said,
“would wipe off every smirk! ”

She thought she saw fair interplay
where men would never shirk,
she looked again and found it was
a most miasmic murk
where rights were flouted, - “Hey! ” she said,
“men stand, wait, feeble lurk! ”

(15 April 2007 Parody Lewis CARROLL Some Hallucinations
The Mad Gardener's Dream Sylvie and Bruno Ch.5 See below Carolling and Carolling II)

Carolling

He thought he saw an Internet
exchanging peer to peer,
he looked again and hedged his bet, -
by middle of next year
new routing tables tuned as yet
unknown may well appear –
on track to trace attack and get
convictions based on fear.

He dreamt that spam would disappear,
all trash deleted fast.
He dreamt that Windows would be clear
of viral bugs’ wormcast.
He woke to find world insincere
where independence past
was sacrificed throughout the year
to biometrics ghast.

He thought he saw a friend’s hello
with an attachment piece,

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Photograph

She sat on the platform bench
waiting for a train to arrive.
Waiting to see her brother
who left to start a new life
twenty-five years ago.
She brought a photograph of herself
for him to have when he went back home.

Stillness engulfed the station
as she waited alone there.
The hiss of an old steam train
filled the quiet air
as along the track it came
like a dinosaur from the past
and stopped at the station.

A group of young soldiers
disembarked to stretch their legs
and grab some fresh air.
One young soldier approached her.
He was sixteen if he was a day.
He smiled as he sat beside her.
“You’re a pretty lady.” He said.

“Thank you.” She replied. “Off to fight some battles? ”
“Yes, but I am not really sure where.
They say a lot of us might not be coming back”
“That is sad.” She replied.
“Especially when you have no one
to think of you.”

“You see I am an orphan
and have no family or a girlfriend come to that.
No one to think of me
when the great battles come.”
“Now that is sad, ” She said looking at him.
Then she realized the photograph
for her brother was in her handbag.

She reached in and removed it.
“Take this and think of me
when your great battles come.”
“I will keep it with me always.
Now I must get back on the train.”
As the train whistle blew.
He waved goodbye as the steam engulfed him.

Then the train was gone
as quickly as it had come.

[...] Read more

poem by David Harris
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Tamar

I
A night the half-moon was like a dancing-girl,
No, like a drunkard's last half-dollar
Shoved on the polished bar of the eastern hill-range,
Young Cauldwell rode his pony along the sea-cliff;
When she stopped, spurred; when she trembled, drove
The teeth of the little jagged wheels so deep
They tasted blood; the mare with four slim hooves
On a foot of ground pivoted like a top,
Jumped from the crumble of sod, went down, caught, slipped;
Then, the quick frenzy finished, stiffening herself
Slid with her drunken rider down the ledges,
Shot from sheer rock and broke
Her life out on the rounded tidal boulders.

The night you know accepted with no show of emotion the little
accident; grave Orion
Moved northwest from the naked shore, the moon moved to
meridian, the slow pulse of the ocean
Beat, the slow tide came in across the slippery stones; it drowned
the dead mare's muzzle and sluggishly
Felt for the rider; Cauldwell’s sleepy soul came back from the
blind course curious to know
What sea-cold fingers tapped the walls of its deserted ruin.
Pain, pain and faintness, crushing
Weights, and a vain desire to vomit, and soon again
die icy fingers, they had crept over the loose hand and lay in the
hair now. He rolled sidewise
Against mountains of weight and for another half-hour lay still.
With a gush of liquid noises
The wave covered him head and all, his body
Crawled without consciousness and like a creature with no bones,
a seaworm, lifted its face
Above the sea-wrack of a stone; then a white twilight grew about
the moon, and above
The ancient water, the everlasting repetition of the dawn. You
shipwrecked horseman
So many and still so many and now for you the last. But when it
grew daylight
He grew quite conscious; broken ends of bone ground on each
other among the working fibers
While by half-inches he was drawing himself out of the seawrack
up to sandy granite,
Out of the tide's path. Where the thin ledge tailed into flat cliff
he fell asleep. . . .
Far seaward
The daylight moon hung like a slip of cloud against the horizon.
The tide was ebbing
From the dead horse and the black belt of sea-growth. Cauldwell
seemed to have felt her crying beside him,

[...] Read more

poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Ghost

lately ive been thinking
lately ive been dreaming with you
im so resitant to this type of thinking
oh, now its shining through
i was alone for the last time
before my nights vacation with you
alive from the first
now im denied by the ghost of you
you take yourself a photograph and laugh at me
please
i know theres little use in crying
its more wide awake and dying then im used to
i thought wed walk these streets together
now im hoping that ill never have to meet you
step aside from all this anger
and somewhere in between i can feel you
ask me should we try again
im thinking no
yknow, its not what i believe in
its not what i believe in
you take yourself a photograph and laugh at me
please
you make yourself a photograph and laugh at me
please
no i, wanna taste you, love
no i...no i
no i, just wanna taste you, love
standing in your shoes
i turn and now
youre standing bare in my doorway
i only wish that i had been prepared
im gonna have to go along with your way
just take the plastic camera out
its the pants you borrowed in the driveway
alive from the first
now im denied by the ghost of you
make yourself a photgraph and laugh at me
please
you make yourself a photograph and laugh at me
please
no i, wanna taste of love
no i...
i was alive from the first
now im denied by the ghost of you

song performed by Howie Day
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Loves of the Angels

'Twas when the world was in its prime,
When the fresh stars had just begun
Their race of glory and young Time
Told his first birth-days by the sun;
When in the light of Nature's dawn
Rejoicing, men and angels met
On the high hill and sunny lawn,-
Ere sorrow came or Sin had drawn
'Twixt man and heaven her curtain yet!
When earth lay nearer to the skies
Than in these days of crime and woe,
And mortals saw without surprise
In the mid-air angelic eyes
Gazing upon this world below.

Alas! that Passion should profane
Even then the morning of the earth!
That, sadder still, the fatal stain
Should fall on hearts of heavenly birth-
And that from Woman's love should fall
So dark a stain, most sad of all!

One evening, in that primal hour,
On a hill's side where hung the ray
Of sunset brightening rill and bower,
Three noble youths conversing lay;
And, as they lookt from time to time
To the far sky where Daylight furled
His radiant wing, their brows sublime
Bespoke them of that distant world-
Spirits who once in brotherhood
Of faith and bliss near ALLA stood,
And o'er whose cheeks full oft had blown
The wind that breathes from ALLA'S throne,
Creatures of light such as still play,
Like motes in sunshine, round the Lord,
And thro' their infinite array
Transmit each moment, night and day,
The echo of His luminous word!

Of Heaven they spoke and, still more oft,
Of the bright eyes that charmed them thence;
Till yielding gradual to the soft
And balmy evening's influence-
The silent breathing of the flowers-
The melting light that beamed above,
As on their first, fond, erring hours,-
Each told the story of his love,
The history of that hour unblest,
When like a bird from its high nest

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas Moore
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The Memories of the Greater Good

Get out of the way.
Just let me take the bullet for you.
One mistake
That is all it takes.
Then it all over.
Waking up sober.
The reality.
Get ready.
Hold on to my cape.
Let me give you my escape.
Go before it's to late.
Don't look back.
Their is not time to second guess.
Just react.

The rain washes all these thoughts away.
I was just looking into another photograph in a my album.
The memories have each their own little sound.
As a bird chips in a melody.
So do these great harmony.

They're you were.
Sitting by the pool all alone.
So I just went right up and started talking to you.
Breaking the ice with a smile.
I had no since of style.
The shyness I fought through.
The fog moved.
So focused on getting to the bottom of what was wrong.
What was this pretty attractive young girl moping around for.
Then I met him.
And It all became so clear.
The face of many beings.
Each a different narcissist.
A falling out, the had already been spread.
It started to grow.
It started to sprout.
Peeking it ugly head out of the ground.

The rain washes all these thoughts away.
I was just looking into another photograph in a my album.
The memories have each their own little sound.
As a bird chips in a melody.
So do these great harmony.

It was too late things were put into motion.
With love as my devotion.
I made a sacrifice, the first of many.
I took a dive and let him beat the hell out of me.
For I was smart enough to know what would happen next.

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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The Court Of Love

With timerous hert and trembling hand of drede,
Of cunning naked, bare of eloquence,
Unto the flour of port in womanhede
I write, as he that non intelligence
Of metres hath, ne floures of sentence;
Sauf that me list my writing to convey,
In that I can to please her hygh nobley.

The blosmes fresshe of Tullius garden soote
Present thaim not, my mater for to borne:
Poemes of Virgil taken here no rote,
Ne crafte of Galfrid may not here sojorne:
Why nam I cunning? O well may I morne,
For lak of science that I can-not write
Unto the princes of my life a-right

No termes digne unto her excellence,
So is she sprong of noble stirpe and high:
A world of honour and of reverence
There is in her, this wil I testifie.
Calliope, thou sister wise and sly,
And thou, Minerva, guyde me with thy grace,
That langage rude my mater not deface.

Thy suger-dropes swete of Elicon
Distill in me, thou gentle Muse, I pray;
And thee, Melpomene, I calle anon,
Of ignoraunce the mist to chace away;
And give me grace so for to write and sey,
That she, my lady, of her worthinesse,
Accepte in gree this litel short tretesse,

That is entitled thus, 'The Court of Love.'
And ye that ben metriciens me excuse,
I you besech, for Venus sake above;
For what I mene in this ye need not muse:
And if so be my lady it refuse
For lak of ornat speche, I wold be wo,
That I presume to her to writen so.

But myn entent and all my besy cure
Is for to write this tretesse, as I can,
Unto my lady, stable, true, and sure,
Feithfull and kind, sith first that she began
Me to accept in service as her man:

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Photograph

I found this photograph
Underneath the broken picture glass
Tender face of black and white
Beautiful, a haunting sight
Looked into an angels smile
Captivated all the while
From the hair and clothes she wore
Id place her in between the wars
Was she willing when she sat
And posed the pretty photograph?
Save her flowering and fair
The days to come, the days to share
A big smile for the camera
How did she know?
The moment could be lost forever
Forever more
I found this photograph
Stashed between the old joist walls
In a place where time is lost
Lost behind, where all things fall
Broken books and calendars
Letters script in careful hand
Music too, a standard tune by
Some forgotten big brass band
From the threshhold whats to see
Of our brave new century?
The televisions just a dream
The radio, the silver screen
A big smile for the camera
How did she know?
The moment could be lost forever
Forever more
Was her childhood filled with rhymes
Stolen hooks, impassioned crimes?
Was she innocent or blind
To the cruelty of her time?
Was she fearful in her day
Was she hopeful, did she pray?
Were there skeletons inside
Family secrets, sworn to hide?
Did she feel the heat that stirs
The fall from grace of wayward girls?
Was she tempted to pretend
The love and laughter, til the end?

song performed by 10000 Maniacs
Added by Lucian Velea
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Photograph

(berry/buck/mills/stipe/natalie merchant)
I found this photograph,
Underneath the broken picture glass
Tender face of black and white,
Beautiful, a haunting sight
Looked into an angels smile,
Captivated all the while
From the hair and clothes she wore,
Id place her in between the wars
Was she willing when she sat
And posed the pretty photograph?
Save her flowering and fair,
The days to come, the days to share
A big smile for the camera,
How did she know?
The moment could be lost forever
Forever more
I found this photograph,
Stashed between the old joist walls,
In a place where time is lost,
Lost behind, where all things fall
Broken books and calendars,
Letters script in careful hand,
Music too, a standard tune by
Some forgotten big brass band
From the threshhold whats to see
Of our brave new century?
The televisions just a dream,
The radio, the silver screen
A big smile for the camera,
How did she know?
The moment could be lost forever
Forever more
Was her childhood filled with rhymes,
Stolen hooks, impassioned crimes?
Was she innocent or blind
To the cruelty of her time?
Was she fearful in her day,
Was she hopeful, did she pray?
Were there skeletons inside,
Family secrets, sworn to hide?
Did she feel the beat that stirs,
The fall from grace of wayward girls?
Was she tempted to pretend,
The love and laughter, til the end?

song performed by REM
Added by Lucian Velea
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If The Camera Breaks..

Do you want to take a picture?
Fine go ahead, with a clicky click, click take.
Wait, hang on a second I didn't put on my smiling face.
Now try try and try.
For with my ugliness the camera might just break.

Do you want to take a picture?
Fine go ahead, with a clicky click, click take.
Wait, hang on a second I didn't put on my smiling face.
Now try try and try.
For with my ugliness the camera might just break.

If it does don't expect me pay.
And if you have pour gasoline on yourself, light the fire and jump out 10 story window just to get the images out of your head.
Just don't expect me to feel guilty.

Do you want take a picture?
Fine go ahead, with a clicky click, click take.
Wait, hang on a second I didn't put on my smiling face.
Now try try and try.
For with my ugliness the camera might just break.

Do you want take a picture.
Fine go ahead, with a clicky click, click take.
Wait, hang on a second I didn't put on my smiling face.
Now try try and try.
For with my ugliness the camera might just break.

Don't say I didn't warn you if the camera it breaks.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Be, Here, Now

‘The camera does not lie’;
yet the truth rests in yourself..

Here’s this photo of one, said
by those who know, to be a saint;

(no one to say smile now please;
no one to say just say cheese..)

here is one who knows that all and everything
is God; so looks into the camera and beyond

and at all of us, and at all of all of us
as God; in goodwill; Godwill;

looking Lordward to the Lord in you and me.
Who can value such a photoed shakti..

shower of grace in just one smile
from one who gives all of himself,

to the camera as the God in us; ‘developed’, multiplied
towards infinity, and rolled around a printing press,

flashed in binary upon computer screen.
We as we look at it become all truth

and like the camera, cannot lie
about ourself: we are perfection.

Before the camera was,
I AM. click.

*

[www. Hindupedia.com > Great Sages > Saints of Recent Times > Neem Karoli Baba]

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Don't Fear The Stalker

Real estate has come
Here but now they're gone
Jason doesn't fear the reaper
Nor do Eli, Alex or Taylor
We should be like they are

Come on baby...Don't fear the stalker
Baby take my camera...Don't fear the stalker
We'll be able to walk...Don't fear the stalker
Baby I have your camera

The cake is done
flies came and ate it but now their gone
Jay and Brett
Are together in eternity
Jason's coming every day...watching Jay and Brett
Eli's coming everyday... rebake the cake
Taylor's coming everyday...to watch TLC

Come on baby...Don't fear the stalker
Baby take my camera...Don't fear the stalker
Watching you everywhere...Don't fear the stalker
Watching you forever

The police had come
Here but now they're gone
Came last night of therapy
And it was clear she couldn't walk
The door was open and the cat appeared
The camera flashed and then disappeared
The curtain blew and he appeared
Saying don't be afraid

Come on baby...then she got off the wheelchair
And then she tripped and fell on him
Then they started to walk out the door
They went forward and said good bye

She had become like they are
She had taken his camera
Then took a picture of them
She had melted his heart of ice
She had taken the cake
She had become like they are

Come on baby...Don't fear the stalker
...Don't fear the stalker

poem by Lilith Rose Reitenbach
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Handles Bermuda

bean bag spokane
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ben sherman messenger bags
bejui bags
beijo bags

[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Healthy Back Bag

animated bag of chips
amor dive bag
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amf bowling bag
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alt ieri bassoon bag
almond flavored tea bags
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an enema bag for men
amulet bag book
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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
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Second Book

TIMES followed one another. Came a morn
I stood upon the brink of twenty years,
And looked before and after, as I stood
Woman and artist,–either incomplete,
Both credulous of completion. There I held
The whole creation in my little cup,
And smiled with thirsty lips before I drank,
'Good health to you and me, sweet neighbour mine
And all these peoples.'
I was glad, that day;
The June was in me, with its multitudes
Of nightingales all singing in the dark,
And rosebuds reddening where the calyx split.
I felt so young, so strong, so sure of God!
So glad, I could not choose be very wise!
And, old at twenty, was inclined to pull
My childhood backward in a childish jest
To see the face of't once more, and farewell!
In which fantastic mood I bounded forth
At early morning,–would not wait so long
As even to snatch my bonnet by the strings,
But, brushing a green trail across the lawn
With my gown in the dew, took will and way
Among the acacias of the shrubberies,
To fly my fancies in the open air
And keep my birthday, till my aunt awoke
To stop good dreams. Meanwhile I murmured on,
As honeyed bees keep humming to themselves;
'The worthiest poets have remained uncrowned
Till death has bleached their foreheads to the bone,
And so with me it must be, unless I prove
Unworthy of the grand adversity,–
And certainly I would not fail so much.
What, therefore, if I crown myself to-day
In sport, not pride, to learn the feel of it,
Before my brows be numb as Dante's own
To all the tender pricking of such leaves?
Such leaves? what leaves?'
I pulled the branches down,
To choose from.
'Not the bay! I choose no bay;
The fates deny us if we are overbold:
Nor myrtle–which means chiefly love; and love
Is something awful which one dare not touch
So early o' mornings. This verbena strains
The point of passionate fragrance; and hard by,
This guelder rose, at far too slight a beck
Of the wind, will toss about her flower-apples.
Ah–there's my choice,–that ivy on the wall,
That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow

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poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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