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Well, I'm kinda like George Carlin. I think that there ought to be a time where everybody should have all the drugs they want and there'd be nobody in charge, sort of like... now!

quote by Merle Haggard
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A Man

George was lying in his trailer, flat on his back, watching a small portable T.V. His
dinner dishes were undone, his breakfast dishes were undone, he needed a shave, and ash
from his rolled cigarettes dropped onto his undershirt. Some of the ash was still burning.
Sometimes the burning ash missed the undershirt and hit his skin, then he cursed, brushing
it away. There was a knock on the trailer door. He got slowly to his feet and answered the
door. It was Constance. She had a fifth of unopened whiskey in a bag.
"George, I left that son of a bitch, I couldn't stand that son of a bitch
anymore."
"Sit down."
George opened the fifth, got two glasses, filled each a third with whiskey, two thirds
with water. He sat down on the bed with Constance. She took a cigarette out of her purse
and lit it. She was drunk and her hands trembled.
"I took his damn money too. I took his damn money and split while he was at work.
You don't know how I've suffered with that son of a bitch." "
Lemme have a smoke," said George. She handed it to him and as she leaned near,
George put his arm around her, pulled her over and kissed her.
"You son of a bitch," she said, "I missed you."
"I miss those good legs of yours , Connie. I've really missed those good
legs."
"You still like 'em?"
"I get hot just looking."
"I could never make it with a college guy," said Connie. "They're too
soft, they're milk toast. And he kept his house clean. George , it was like having a maid.
He did it all. The place was spotless. You could eat beef stew right off the crapper. He
was antiseptic, that's what he was."
"Drink up, you'll feel better."
"And he couldn't make love."
"You mean he couldn't get it up?"
"Oh he got it up, he got it up all the time. But he didn't know how to make a
woman happy, you know. He didn't know what to do. All that money, all that education, he
was useless."
"I wish I had a college education."
"You don't need one. You have everything you need, George."
"I'm just a flunky. All the shit jobs."
"I said you have everything you need, George. You know how to make a woman
happy."
"Yeh?"
"Yes. And you know what else? His mother came around! His mother! Two or three
times a week. And she'd sit there looking at me, pretending to like me but all the time
she was treating me like I was a whore. Like I was a big bad whore stealing her son away
from her! Her precious Wallace! Christ! What a mess!" "He claimed he loved me.
And I'd say, 'Look at my pussy, Walter!' And he wouldn't look at my pussy. He said, 'I
don't want to look at that thing.' That thing! That's what he called it! You're not afraid
of my pussy, are you, George?"
"It's never bit me yet." "But you've bit it, you've nibbled it, haven't
you George?"
"I suppose I have."
"And you've licked it , sucked it?"
"I suppose so."
"You know damn well, George, what you've done."

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Bukowski
Added by Dan Costinaş
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Tale XX

THE BROTHERS.

Than old George Fletcher, on the British coast
Dwelt not a seaman who had more to boast:
Kind, simple and sincere--he seldom spoke,
But sometimes sang and chorus'd--'Hearts of Oak:'
In dangers steady, with his lot content,
His days in labour and in love were spent.
He left a Son so like him, that the old
With joy exclaim'd, ''Tis Fletcher we behold;'
But to his Brother, when the kinsmen came
And view'd his form, they grudged the father's

name.
George was a bold, intrepid, careless lad,
With just the failings that his father had;
Isaac was weak, attentive, slow, exact,
With just the virtues that his father lack'd.
George lived at sea: upon the land a guest -
He sought for recreation, not for rest;
While, far unlike, his brother's feebler form
Shrank from the cold, and shudder'd at the storm;
Still with the Seaman's to connect his trade,
The boy was bound where blocks and ropes were made.
George, strong and sturdy, had a tender mind,
And was to Isaac pitiful and kind;
A very father, till his art was gain'd,
And then a friend unwearied he remain'd;
He saw his brother was of spirit low,
His temper peevish, and his motions slow;
Not fit to bustle in a world, or make
Friends to his fortune for his merit's sake;
But the kind sailor could not boast the art
Of looking deeply in the human heart;
Else had he seen that this weak brother knew
What men to court--what objects to pursue;
That he to distant gain the way discern'd,
And none so crooked but his genius learn'd.
Isaac was poor, and this the brother felt;
He hired a house, and there the Landman dwelt,
Wrought at his trade, and had an easy home,
For there would George with cash and comforts come;
And when they parted, Isaac look'd around
Where other friends and helpers might be found.
He wish'd for some port-place, and one might

fall,
He wisely thought, if he should try for all;
He had a vote--and were it well applied,
Might have its worth--and he had views beside;

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
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Thats The Kinda Love I Got For You

(d. fletcher / d. parks)
From a mountain high to a valley low
Stronger than the strongest and even more
Running deep, as deep can go
And can even turn your darkest clouds to falling snow
Thats the kinda love I got for you, yeah
Thats the kinda love I got for you-hoo-oo
I cant help myself
I cant help myself
Oh, I love ya
Well, I just cant help myself
Like falling water on desert sand
Making flowers grow on barren land, yeah
Ever growin, growin long
Heaven only knows just how much it grows, ah
Thats the kinda love I got for you-oo
Thats the kinda love I got for you-hoo-oo
I cant help myself
I cant help myself
I love ya
Baby, I just cant help myself, no
Im playing with fire
Ive lost control, yeah
Oh this lovely feeling
Burns to my very soul
Burning hot, as hot as I can go
Cant seem to help myself
Just got to let you know
Thats the kinda love I got for you
Thats the kinda love I got for you-hoo-hoo
Thats the kinda love I got for you, baby
Thats the kinda love I got for, yeah
Oh, come and get it, honey
Cant help myself
This love of mine
Oh, its getting stronger
Cant help myself
Cant wait much longer, yeah
I feel it for you, yeah
Oh, thats the kinda love I got for you
Thats the kinda love I got for you, yeah
Thats the kinda love I got for you-oo
Thats the kinda love I got for you-hoo
Thats the kinda love I got for you, baby
Thats the kinda love I got for you, yeah
Thats the kinda love I got for you-hoo
Thats the kinda love I got for you-hoo-hoo
Thats the kinda love I got for you, yeah
Thats the kinda love I got for you, yeah-heah-heah
Thats the kinda love I got for you, honey

[...] Read more

song performed by Dusty Springfield
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That's The Kind Of Love I Got For You

(d. fletcher / d. parks)
From a mountain high to a valley low
Stronger than the strongest and even more
Running deep, as deep can go
And can even turn your darkest clouds to falling snow
That's the kinda love i got for you, yeah
That's the kinda love i got for you-hoo-oo
I can't help myself
I can't help myself
Oh, i love ya
Well, i just can't help myself
Like falling water on desert sand
Making flowers grow on barren land, yeah
Ever growin', growin' long
Heaven only knows just how much it grows, ah
That's the kinda love i got for you-oo
That's the kinda love i got for you-hoo-oo
I can't help myself
I can't help myself
I love ya
Baby, i just can't help myself, no
I'm playing with fire
I've lost control, yeah
Oh this lovely feeling
Burns to my very soul
Burning hot, as hot as i can go
Can't seem to help myself
Just got to let you know
That's the kinda love i got for you
That's the kinda love i got for you-hoo-hoo
That's the kinda love i got for you, baby
That's the kinda love i got for, yeah
Oh, come and get it, honey
Can't help myself
This love of mine
Oh, it's getting stronger
Can't help myself
Can't wait much longer, yeah
I feel it for you, yeah
Oh, that's the kinda love i got for you
That's the kinda love i got for you, yeah
That's the kinda love i got for you-oo
That's the kinda love i got for you-hoo
That's the kinda love i got for you, baby
That's the kinda love i got for you, yeah
That's the kinda love i got for you-hoo
That's the kinda love i got for you-hoo-hoo
That's the kinda love i got for you, yeah
That's the kinda love i got for you, yeah-heah-heah
That's the kinda love i got for you, honey

[...] Read more

song performed by Dusty Springfield
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Friend George

Read in the paper bout a man killed with a sword
And that made my think of my friend george
People said the man was five foot six
Sounds like george with his killing stick
Hey bro, whats the word
Talkin bout my friend george
Hey bro, whats the word
Talkin bout my friend george
You talkin bout my friend george
I knew george since hes eight
I always thought that he was great
And anything that george would do
You know that I would do it too
George liked music and george liked to fight
He worked out in a downtown gym every night
Id spar with him when work was done
We split lips but it was all in fun
Hey bro, whats the word
You talkin bout my friend george
Hey bro, whats the word
Talkin bout my friend george
Talkin bout my friend george
Next thing I hear georges got this stick
Hes using it for more than kicks
I seen him down at smalleys bar
He was wired up, I tried to calm him down
Avenge yourself he says to me
Avenge yourself for humanity
Avenge yourself for the weak and the poor
Stick it to these guys right through their heads
Well, the fight is my music, the stick is my sword
And you know that I love you, so please dont say a word
Cant you hear the music playing, the anthem, its my call
And the last I seen of george was him
Running through the door, I says -
Hey bro, whats the word
Talkin bout my friend george
Hey bro, whats the word
You talkin bout my friend george
Talkin bout my friend george
Hey bro, whats the word
You talkin bout my friend george
Hey bro, whats the word
What me saying bout my friend george
Hey bro, whats the word
Hear you talkin bout my friend george
Hey bro, whats the word
I hear talkin bout my friend george

song performed by Lou Reed
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My Kinda Life

Right from early days from the moment I was born
I would take my guitar in the early early mornin
And go down to the fields and play-ay-ay
Sittin down there in the long grass strummin
I could see the people from miles around comin
To hear me sing my music and play-ay-ay
Well thats been my kinda life my kinda life (yes and I like it)
Well thats been my kinda life my kinda life (yes and I like it)
Well thats been my kinda life yeah and I wouldnt spend it anywhere
Other than sittin down somewhere playin away my days
Well we made it to the city just me and my guitar
That was where I found a freaky little bar
I sat there on the stage and play-ay-ayed
Well up came a guy who said it wasnt plastic
He wanted me to sing away my life or something drastic
But all I wanna do is play-ay-ay
Well thats been my kinda life my kinda life (yes and I like it)
Well thats been my kinda life my kinda life (yes and I like it)
Well thats been my kinda life yeah and I wouldnt spend it anywhere
Other than sittin down somewhere playin away my days
Well fame and fortune Ive let them pass me by
No one in the country could say I didnt try
To turn the people and to play-ay-ay
You can keep all the money and the places that go with it
Cos all I want is freedom and no cash could ever get it
All I wanna do is play-ay-ay
Well thats been my kinda life my kinda life (yes and I like it)
Well thats been my kinda life my kinda life (yes and I like it)
Well thats been my kinda life yeah and I wouldnt spend it anywhere
Other than sittin down somewhere playin away my days

song performed by Cliff Richard
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Some Kinda Love

Written by al hodge, leslie duncan & tony cox
They set the wheels in motion adam and eve
The beginning of romance
He was a lonely man I do believe
So he thought hed take a chance
I know just how he was feeling
Hed been advised not to fall
But when his senses were reeling
That man he wanted it all
Honey this is some kinda love
You are my sweet temptation
Honey this is some kinda some kinda love
Like a moth to a flame all you gotta do is call my name
Ill come running to you
I was a lonely man until you came
Life was black life was blue
Without a word being spoken
I saw you then I knew
Now my defences are broken
Theres not a thing I can do
Honey this is some kinda love
You are my sweet temptation
Honey this is some kinda some kinda love oh baby
Honey this is some kinda love
Were just one step from heaven
Honey this is some kinda some kinda love
Oh girl theres a fire in my soul
Im just burning for you
Oh girl Im out of control
Tell me can you feel it too
Im burning up Im burning up
Theres a fire in my soul
Im burning up Im burning up
For you
Honey this is some kinda love
You are my sweet temptation
Honey this is some kinda some kinda love
Honey this is some kinda love
Were just one step from heaven
Honey this is some kinda some kinda love
Repeat

song performed by Rick Astley
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Madame George

Down on cyprus avenue
With a childlike vision leaping into view
Clicking, clacking of the high heeled shoe
Ford & fitzroy, madame george
Marching with the soldier boy behind
Hes much older with hat on drinking wine
And that smell of sweet perfume comes drifting through
The cool night air like shalimar
And outside theyre making all the stops
The kids out in the street collecting bottle-tops
Gone for cigarettes and matches in the shops
Happy taken madame george
Thats when you fall
Whoa, thats when you fall
Yeah, thats when you fall
When you fall into a trance
A sitting on a sofa playing games of chance
With your folded arms and history books you glance
Into the eyes of madame george
And you think you found the bag
Youre getting weaker and your knees begin to sag
In the corner playing dominoes in drag
The one and only madame george
And then from outside the frosty window raps
She jumps up and says lord have mercy I think its the cops
And immediately drops everything she gots
Down into the street below
And you know you gotta go
On that train from dublin up to sandy row
Throwing pennies at the bridges down below
And the rain, hail, sleet, and snow
Say goodbye to madame george
Dry your eye for madame george
Wonder why for madame george
And as you leave, the room is filled with music, laughing, music,
Dancing, music all around the room
And all the little boys come around, walking away from it all
So cold
And as youre about to leave
She jumps up and says hey love, you forgot your gloves
And the gloves to love to love the gloves...
To say goodbye to madame george
Dry your eye for madame george
Wonder why for madame george
Dry your eyes for madame george
Say goodbye in the wind and the rain on the back street
In the backstreet, in the back street
Say goodbye to madame george
In the backstreet, in the back street, in the back street
Down home, down home in the back street

[...] Read more

song performed by Van Morrison
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Heavy Metal Poisoning

Written by james young
Lead vocals by james young
Murolces odro suvon sitpeoc tiunna
What the devils goin on
Why dont your turn that music down
Youre going deaf and thats for sure
But all you do is scream for more
Get the lead out go for broke
Pop your pills and drink and smoke
Shoot those chemicals into your vein
Anything to ease the pain
Heavy metal (heavy metal) poisoning (its a poison)
A toxic wasteland (got a toxic wasteland) in your ear canal (in your ear canal!)
Overloaded (Im overloaded), suffering (yeah!)
Overloaded (overloaded) on sex and drugs
Everything is black and white
You are wrong and we are right
First well spank your big behinds
Then well twist your little minds
Im dr. righteous (Im dr. righteous), and Im here to sing (yeah!)
That heavy metal (heavy metal) is poisoning
Its a music wasteland, that destroys the young (yeah!)
Theyre overloaded (overloaded) on sex and drugs, sex and drugs, sex and drugs
And rock and roll!
Sterces eht sdloh natas
Im dr. righteous (Im dr. righteous), and Im here to sing (yeah!)
That heavy metal (heavy metal) is poisoning
Its a music wasteland, that destroys the young (yeah!)
Theyre overloaded (overloaded) on sex and drugs, sex and drugs, sex and drugs
And rock and roll!
Heavy metal (heavy metal) poisoning (its a poison)
A toxic wasteland (got a toxic wasteland) in your love canal love canal!)
Overloaded (Im overloaded), suffering (yeah!)
Overloaded (overloaded) on sex and drugs, sex and drugs, sex and drugs
Sex and drugs, sex and drugs, sex and drugs, sex and drugs, sex and drugs
Righteous! righteous!...
Shut up!
...righteous! righteous! righteous! righteous! righteous! yeah!
Shut up! shut up!
[giggles]

song performed by Styx
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We Are All On Drugs

When you're out with your friends
In your new Mercedes-Benz
And you're on drugs
And you show up late for school
'Cause you think you're really cool
When you're on drugs
And you put on your headphones
And you step into the zone
When you're on drugs
But the world don't care
If you are not there
'Cause you're on drugs
GIVE IT TO ME
We are all on drugs yeah
Never getting enough (never get enough)
We are all on drugs yeah
Give me some of that stuff (WOO)
And you twitch in your seat
'Cause you wanna hit the street
When you're on drugs
And you cause such a fuss
'Cause there's no one you can trust
When you're on drugs
And the best of your days
Will vanish into haze
When you're on drugs
And you wish you can quit
'Cause you're really sick of it
But you're on drugs
GIVE IT TO ME
We are all on drugs yeah
Never getting enough (never get enough)
We are all on drugs yeah
Give me some of that stuff (WOO)
I wanna confiscate your drugs
I don't think I can get enough
We are all on drugs yeah
Never getting enough (never get enough)
We are all on drugs yeah
Give me some of that stuff (WOO)

song performed by Weezer
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Once In A Lifetime Groove

Ooh
I see you standing there
So lost and all alone
I wanna take you in my arms
And tell you that youre home
I look into your eyes
I know you very well
I see a mirror of my life
A reflection of myself
The sun comes up, the sun goes down
And in between you gotta make it seem like somethin counts
Youre seachin here, youre searchin there
For the dream thatll make you seem like someone cares
Reach out and touch
The love that I have for you
cause this kinda love
Is a once in a lifetime groove (oh, girl, yeah)
You wanna take a chance
I see it on your face
You know my loves the answer
Girl, dont be afraid
I know just what to do
To be a shining star
I know just how to rescue you
cause Ive been where you are
The sun comes up, the sun goes down
And in between you gotta find a dream that makes life count
Youre seachin here, youre searchin there
Your job is done, you found a lover and someone cares
This kinda love
Is a once in a lifetime groove (ooh, ooh, ooh)
cause this kinda love
Is a once in a lifetime groove (yeah)
Reach out and touch
The love that I have for you (ooh, ooh, ooh)
cause this kinda love
Is a once in a lifetime groove (yeah, ooh)
This kinda love
This kinda love (ooh)
This kinda love
This kinda love
(the sun comes up) the sun comes up, the sun goes down (sun goes down)
Youre tryin to make life count, girl
(youre seachin here) youre seachin here, youre searchin there (searchin there)
To find someone who cares, hey, baby, ah, yeah
cause this kinda love
Is a once in a lifetime groove (ooh, ooh, ooh)
cause this kinda love
Is a once in a lifetime groove (yeah)
Reach out and touch

[...] Read more

song performed by New Edition
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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator

Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!

It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!

Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ex-girlfriend

I kinda always knew Id end up your ex-girlfriend
I kinda always knew Id end up your ex-girlfriend
I kinda always knew Id end up your ex-girlfriend
I hope I hold a special place with the rest of them
And you know it makes me sick to be on that list
But I should have thought of that before we kissed
You say youre gonna burn before you mellow
I will be the one to burn you
Whyd you have to go and pick me?
When you that we were different, completely
I kinda always knew Id end up your ex-girlfriend
I kinda always knew Id end up your ex-girlfriend
I hope I hold a special place with the rest of them
I kinda always knew Id end up your ex-girlfriend
Im another ex-girlfriend on your list
But I should have thought of that before we kissed
Your wildness scares me
So does your freedom
You say you cant stand the restrictions
I find myself trying to change you
If you were meant to be my lover I wouldnt have to
And I feel so mean, I feel in between
cause Im about to give you away
I kinda always knew Id end up your ex-girlfriend (for someone else to take)
I kinda always knew Id end up your ex-girlfriend (am I making a mistake? )
I hope I hold a special place with the rest of them (all the time that we
Spent) I kinda always knew Id end up your ex-girl, friend
Im another ex-girlfriend on your list
But I should have thought of that before we kissed
Im another ex-girlfriend on your list
But I should have thought of that before we kissed
Im about to give you away for someone else to take
Im about to give you away for someone else to take
We keep repeating mistakes for souvenirs
And weve been in between the days for years
And I know that when I see you Im going to die
I know Im going to want you and you know why
Its going to kill me to see you with the next girl
cause Im the most gorgeously jealous kind of ex-girl
I kinda always knew Id end up your ex-girlfriend
I kinda always knew Id end up your ex-girlfriend
I hope I hold a special place with the rest of them
I kinda always knew Id end up your ex-girl friend
Im another ex-girlfriend on your list
But I should have thought of that before we kissed
Im another ex-girlfriend on your list
But I should have thought of that before we kissed

song performed by Gwen Stefani
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Vision of Judgment

I

Saint Peter sat by the celestial gate:
His keys were rusty, and the lock was dull,
So little trouble had been given of late;
Not that the place by any means was full,
But since the Gallic era 'eight-eight'
The devils had ta'en a longer, stronger pull,
And 'a pull altogether,' as they say
At sea — which drew most souls another way.

II

The angels all were singing out of tune,
And hoarse with having little else to do,
Excepting to wind up the sun and moon,
Or curb a runaway young star or two,
Or wild colt of a comet, which too soon
Broke out of bounds o'er th' ethereal blue,
Splitting some planet with its playful tail,
As boats are sometimes by a wanton whale.

III

The guardian seraphs had retired on high,
Finding their charges past all care below;
Terrestrial business fill'd nought in the sky
Save the recording angel's black bureau;
Who found, indeed, the facts to multiply
With such rapidity of vice and woe,
That he had stripp'd off both his wings in quills,
And yet was in arrear of human ills.

IV

His business so augmented of late years,
That he was forced, against his will no doubt,
(Just like those cherubs, earthly ministers,)
For some resource to turn himself about,
And claim the help of his celestial peers,
To aid him ere he should be quite worn out
By the increased demand for his remarks:
Six angels and twelve saints were named his clerks.

V

This was a handsome board — at least for heaven;
And yet they had even then enough to do,
So many conqueror's cars were daily driven,
So many kingdoms fitted up anew;

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poem by Byron
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Vision of Judgment, The

I

Saint Peter sat by the celestial gate:
His keys were rusty, and the lock was dull,
So little trouble had been given of late;
Not that the place by any means was full,
But since the Gallic era 'eight-eight'
The devils had ta'en a longer, stronger pull,
And 'a pull altogether,' as they say
At sea — which drew most souls another way.

II

The angels all were singing out of tune,
And hoarse with having little else to do,
Excepting to wind up the sun and moon,
Or curb a runaway young star or two,
Or wild colt of a comet, which too soon
Broke out of bounds o'er th' ethereal blue,
Splitting some planet with its playful tail,
As boats are sometimes by a wanton whale.

III

The guardian seraphs had retired on high,
Finding their charges past all care below;
Terrestrial business fill'd nought in the sky
Save the recording angel's black bureau;
Who found, indeed, the facts to multiply
With such rapidity of vice and woe,
That he had stripp'd off both his wings in quills,
And yet was in arrear of human ills.

IV

His business so augmented of late years,
That he was forced, against his will no doubt,
(Just like those cherubs, earthly ministers,)
For some resource to turn himself about,
And claim the help of his celestial peers,
To aid him ere he should be quite worn out
By the increased demand for his remarks:
Six angels and twelve saints were named his clerks.

V

This was a handsome board — at least for heaven;
And yet they had even then enough to do,
So many conqueror's cars were daily driven,
So many kingdoms fitted up anew;

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poem by George Gordon Byron
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III. The Other Half-Rome

Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!

There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk

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

The dragon, taller than a tree,
Looked down on George's head,
While he looked up uncertainly
And fighting first his dread...

He stood his ground, not one step back,
As faith within him grew,
For while he knew that things looked black,
He had to see this through...

The dragon stood his ground as well,
Though George held high his sword...
The dragon, thought to come from Hell,
Perhaps with fire stored...

The dragon had no flames and yet
He knew George planned his death,
Yet thought he had no need to fret,
If George no more had breath...

The dragon swished his giant tail,
But George was wise to that
And proved himself an agile male
Instead of falling flat...

The tail passed by, his sword went in,
The dragon roared in pain
And when George saw his chance to win,
He pierced the tail again...

If dragons cursed and dragons swore,
That must have happened next,
As blood then spurted out for sure,
With that big dragon vexed...

He dragged his dragon's tail away
As fast as he then could
And then decided, come what may,
To kill small George real good...

But George was quick to cut things short,
He climbed the dragon's tail
And valiantly he fought and fought
The dragon tooth and nail...

Across the back, just like a hill,
He clambered to the hilt,
Upto the neck where he stayed still,
In hopes the beast was killed...

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poem by Denis Martindale
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

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poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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IX. Juris Doctor Johannes-Baptista Bottinius, Fisci et Rev. Cam. Apostol. Advocatus

Had I God's leave, how I would alter things!
If I might read instead of print my speech,—
Ay, and enliven speech with many a flower
Refuses obstinate to blow in print,
As wildings planted in a prim parterre,—
This scurvy room were turned an immense hall;
Opposite, fifty judges in a row;
This side and that of me, for audience—Rome:
And, where yon window is, the Pope should hide—
Watch, curtained, but peep visibly enough.
A buzz of expectation! Through the crowd,
Jingling his chain and stumping with his staff,
Up comes an usher, louts him low, "The Court
"Requires the allocution of the Fisc!"
I rise, I bend, I look about me, pause
O'er the hushed multitude: I count—One, two—

Have ye seen, Judges, have ye, lights of law,—
When it may hap some painter, much in vogue
Throughout our city nutritive of arts,
Ye summon to a task shall test his worth,
And manufacture, as he knows and can,
A work may decorate a palace-wall,
Afford my lords their Holy Family,—
Hath it escaped the acumen of the Court
How such a painter sets himself to paint?
Suppose that Joseph, Mary and her Babe
A-journeying to Egypt, prove the piece:
Why, first he sedulously practiseth,
This painter,—girding loin and lighting lamp,—
On what may nourish eye, make facile hand;
Getteth him studies (styled by draughtsmen so)
From some assistant corpse of Jew or Turk
Or, haply, Molinist, he cuts and carves,—
This Luca or this Carlo or the like.
To him the bones their inmost secret yield,
Each notch and nodule signify their use:
On him the muscles turn, in triple tier,
And pleasantly entreat the entrusted man
"Familiarize thee with our play that lifts
"Thus, and thus lowers again, leg, arm and foot!"
—Ensuring due correctness in the nude.
Which done, is all done? Not a whit, ye know!
He,—to art's surface rising from her depth,—
If some flax-polled soft-bearded sire be found,
May simulate a Joseph, (happy chance!)—
Limneth exact each wrinkle of the brow,
Loseth no involution, cheek or chap,
Till lo, in black and white, the senior lives!
Is it a young and comely peasant-nurse

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