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The Victim

To be a victim one must par take
whether they realize it or not.
Something they do or say
Makes them the ultimate prey.
I will, If I may
If I might
Guess I'm not being very forthright.
Better luck next time.

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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La Chronique Ascendante des Ducs de Normandie

Mil chent et soisante anz out de temps et d'espace
puiz que Dex en la Virge descendi par sa grace,
quant un clerc de Caen, qui out non Mestre Vace,
s'entremist de l'estoire de Rou et de s'estrasce,
qui conquist Normendie, qui qu'en poist ne qui place,
contre l'orgueil de France, qui encor les menasce,
que nostre roi Henri la congnoissë et sace.
Qui gaires n'a de rentes ne gaires n'en porcache ;
mez avarice a frait a largesce sa grace,
ne peut lez mainz ouvrir, plus sont gelez que glace, .
ne sai ou est reposte, ne truiz train ne trace;
qui ne soit losengier ne encort liu ne place,
a plusors i fait on la cue lovinace.
Ce ne fu mie el temps Virgile ne Orace
ne el temps Alixandre ne Cesar ne Estace,
lores avoit largesce vertu et efficace.
Du roi Henri voil faire ceste premiere page,
qui prist Alianor, dame de haut parage,
Dex doinst a ambedeuls de bien faire courage!
Ne me font mie rendre a la court le musage,
de dons et de pramesses chascun d' euls m' asouage ;
mez besoing vient souvent qui tost sigle et tost nage,
et souvent me fait meitre le denier et le gage.
France est Alienor et debonnaire et sage ;
roÿne fu de France en son premier aage,
Looÿs l' espousa qui out grant mariage;
en Jerusalem furent en lonc pelerinage,
assez y traist chescun travail et ahanage,
Quant reparriez s' en furent, par conseil du barnage
s' em parti la roÿne o riche parentage;
de cele departie n'out elle nul damage ;
a Poitiers s'en ala, son naturel manage,
n'i out plus prochain heir qu'el fu de son lignage.
Li roiz Henri la prist o riche mariage,
cil qui tint Engleterre et la terre marage
entre Espaingne et Escosce, de rivage en rivage ;
grant parole est de lui et de son vasselage,
des felons qu'il destraint comme oysel clos en cage ;
n' a baron en sa terre o si grant herbergage
qui ost le pais enfraindre em plein ne en boscage,
se il peut estre ataint, n'et des membres hontage,
ou qu'il n'i lest le cors ou l' ame en ostage.

La geste voil de Rou et dez Normanz conter,
lors faiz et lor proësce doi je bien recorder.
Les boisdies de France ne font mie a celer,
tout tens voudrent Franchoiz Normanz desheriter
et tout tens se penerent d' euls vaincre et d'els grever,
et quant Franceiz nes porent par force sormonter
par plusors tricheries lez soulent agraver ;

[...] Read more

poem by Wace
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Better Luck Next Time

Black is for the nighttime
Preys upon the day
Red is for the blood that flows like rivers in our veins
Gray is for betrayal
What you did to me
White is for the blinding light
That I know Ill never see, know Ill never see
Found you in the gutter
You needed tenderness
I gave you everything I had
I gave you all my trust
Handed out so neatly
Caught me in your trap
When I needed you the most
You stab me in the back, stab me in the back
Better luck, better luck, better luck next time
If you do it once therell never be a second time
Better luck, better luck, better luck next time
Find somebody else, youre never gonna be mine
How do you find the nerve
To lie right to me face
How do you find the nerve
Black is for the nighttime
Preys upon the day
Red is for the blood that flows like rivers in our veins
I try and find excuses
For what you did to me
Cant forget that burning rage
When I wake up thinking of your face
For the blinding swiftness of revenge
That I know Ill never see, know Ill never see
Better luck, better luck, better luck next time
If you do it once therell never be a second time
Better luck, better luck, better luck next time
Find somebody else, youre never gonna be mine
Better luck, better luck, better luck next time (better luck, better luck)
Better luck, better luck, better luck next time (better luck, better luck)
How do you find the nerve
To lie right to me face
How did you find the nerve
Better luck, better luck, better luck next time (better luck, better luck)
Better luck, better luck, better luck next time (better luck, better luck)
Better luck, better luck, better luck next time (better luck, better luck)

song performed by Oingo Boingo
Added by Lucian Velea
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Never, Ever And Luck

never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck
never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck
never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck
never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck
never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck
never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck
never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck
never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck
never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck never, ever and luck

prayers are answered

need repetitions

poem by Nyein Way
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Good Luck, Bad Luck

The film script lies ahead
Change the future, change the past
Choose the players, choose the role
Cast of thousands, cast of few
Imagination decides the plot
Play the good guy, play the bad
Heres the victim, heres the saint
Heres the canvas, heres the paint
Good luck bad luck who knows
Good luck bad luck who knows
The world is peopled by many winds
Whirling faster than the wind
Solving a dilemma of life and death
Trying to make some sense of it all
No good blaming the outside world
Pleasure and pain are in the mind
Whether we like it or whether we dont
We found as much as we wanted to find
Good luck, bad luck who knows
Good luck, bad luck
Good luck, bad luck who knows
Good luck, bad luck
Good luck, bad luck who knows
Good luck, bad luck
We can make it horror we can make it blue
We can make it slow time, make it move
The director sits behind those eyes
Play it straight or in disguise
Imagination decides the plot
Play the good guy play the bad
Heres the victim, heres the saint
Heres the canvas and heres the paint
Good luck, good
Good luck bad luck who knows
Good luck bad luck who knows?

song performed by Howard Jones
Added by Lucian Velea
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(Choices Poem) Circumstances Unending

If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay

To let the one you love go for the better
Or the happiness of poverty in suffering
Like a mother choosing for a child
you must make the decision out of true love.
Forever the greater good.
The eagle looks upon us all with his eyes.
Only if I could see it that way.

If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay

When you do such a thing their is no going back
Chasing after something you threw away.
All in a attempt to be the better man.
The homeless playing a game of kick the can.
Nobody ever wins.
It is to pass time as it will always do.

If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death
A victim of compromises
A heart in pain either way.
To make your world a little more okay

Regret and bitter
Feelings that will never sit well with you
Your determined to overcome, and it not be prolonged
She is gone.
Forever a bad choice.
That you wouldn't want to change.

If you had to choose what would you do
Circumstances unending
A victim of life
A victim of death

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Twin State

university of chicago summer basketball
university of chicago summer camp
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university of delaware 4h camp
university of delaware 4h camp applicati
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university of denver and lacrosse camp
university of denver swimming summer cam

[...] Read more

poem by Caasder Fronds
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Just Another Victim

ARTIST Helmet
@ARTIST House of Pain
Victimized
But you're in bed
Stumble out
and run dead
If it ever paid
To sell (a?) (start?) (star? *sigh*)
Enviroment
make you smart
Just another victim
Just another victim
Just another victim, kid
I heard it once
but not before
(taking? or begging?) off
and livin bored
my hands are tied
webbed feet again
fell in behind
and claim us dead(?)
Just another victim
Just another victim, (says something that starts with an S, or
has an S in it? :)
Just another victim
Cast this
(?)
Give it up
I'll lie to you
(Blamin? Flamin? Played in?) Flame this
(?)
Pointed finger
You fall apart
Just another victim
Just another victim
Just another victim
(fade to HOP)
You played yourself now you point the finger
How i've robbed and raped ya, bruised and scraped ya
but those are just lies, cause in your eyes you've been victimized
It's how you size it up, you disguise it up, and try to make it look real
To cover up the low self esteem you feel
Introspection an afterthought, swimmin in guilt your favorite sport
But now you're caught up in the undertow, you never knew a man could sink
so low
But now you know, cause you're John Doe
In a black bag a tag on your toe
I built the House
I felt the Pain
You're victimized but got no one to blame

[...] Read more

song performed by Helmet
Added by Lucian Velea
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Le Mendiant

C'était quand le printemps a reverdi les prés.
La fille de Lycus, vierge aux cheveux dorés,
Sous les monts Achéens, non loin de Cérynée,

Errait à l'ombre, aux bords du faible et pur Crathis,
Car les eaux du Crathis, sous des berceaux de frêne,
Entouraient de Lycus le fertile domaine.
Soudain, à l'autre bord,
Du fond d'un bois épais, un noir fantôme sort,
Tout pâle, demi-nu, la barbe hérissée:
Il remuait à peine une lèvre glacée,
Des hommes et des dieux implorait le secours,
Et dans la forêt sombre errait depuis deux jours;
Il se traîne, il n'attend qu'une mort douloureuse;
Il succombe. L'enfant, interdite et peureuse,
A ce hideux aspect sorti du fond des bois,
Veut fuir; mais elle entend sa lamentable voix.
Il tend les bras, il tombe à genoux; il lui crie
Qu'au nom de tous les dieux il la conjure, il prie,
Et qu'il n'est point à craindre, et qu'une ardente faim
L'aiguillonne et le tue, et qu'il expire enfin.

'Si, comme je le crois, belle dès ton enfance,
C'est le dieu de ces eaux qui t'a donné naissance,
Nymphe, souvent les voeux des malheureux humains
Ouvrent des immortels les bienfaisantes mains,
Ou si c'est quelque front porteur d'une couronne
Qui te nomme sa fille et te destine au trône,
Souviens-toi, jeune enfant, que le ciel quelquefois
Venge les opprimés sur la tête des rois.
Belle vierge, sans doute enfant d'une déesse,
Crains de laisser périr l'étranger en détresse:
L'étranger qui supplie est envoyé des dieux.'

Elle reste. A le voir, elle enhardit ses yeux,
. . . . . . . . et d'une voix encore
Tremblante: 'Ami, le ciel écoute qui l'implore.
Mais ce soir, quand la nuit descend sur l'horizon,
Passe le pont mobile, entre dans la maison;
J'aurai soin qu'on te laisse entrer sans méfiance.
Pour la douzième fois célébrant ma naissance,
Mon père doit donner une fête aujourd'hui.
Il m'aime, il n'a que moi: viens t'adresser à lui,
C'est le riche Lycus. Viens ce soir; il est tendre,
Il est humain: il pleure aux pleurs qu'il voit répandre.'
Elle achève ces mots, et, le coeur palpitant,
S'enfuit; car l'étranger sur elle, en l'écoutant,
Fixait de ses yeux creux l'attention avide.
Elle rentre, cherchant dans le palais splendide
L'esclave près de qui toujours ses jeunes ans

[...] Read more

poem by Andre Marie de Chenier
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Hard Luck Story

Dont ask me to love my neighbour
Cause I dont love the man
Dont ask me for my favours
I wont lend a hand
And if I had real power
Then I could disappear
Wouldnt have to be around you
Id sink into the atmosphere
Then I wouldnt hear
Your hard luck story
Its a hard luck, a hard luck story
Dont ask me to tip the waiter
For he is underhand
I can tell he is a woman hater
And he is a nasty man
Within reach lies all desire
For each and every soul
Stripped bare and stretching higher
You fall into the last balck hole
To end your hard
Hard luck story
Its a hard luck
Hard luck story
Dont ask me to pray to jesus
Ive never met the man
I only meet weekend preachers
Pictures of the promised land
All the new holy saviours
Who pretend to understand
Who do you think will save you
Modern day beggar man
Such a hard luck
Hard luck story
Its a hard luck
Hard luck story
Its such a hard
Hard luck story
Its a hard luck
Hard luck story
Dont ask me to love my neighbour
Dont ask me to tip the waiter
Dont ask me to pray to jesus
He picked his time to leave us
Its a hard luck
Hard luck story
Its a hard luck
Hard luck story
Its a hard luck story
Hard luck story

song performed by Men At Work
Added by Lucian Velea
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Victim Of Love

(coverdale)
Im down on love
An I dont give a damn,
I take my chances
Whenever I can
Like a lamb to the slaughter,
Another sacrifice,
For giving love to woman
With a heart stone cold as ice
Im down on love
An Im clean out of pain,
I aint no stranger
To the crying game
Too scared to suffer,
An too blind to see,
But, I played with fire
An I got what was coming to me
Now, one more heartache
Dont bother me,
Just one more lonely night
To drown in misery
I am a victim of love,
A victim of love,
Lord, I never thought
Id be a victim of love
Victim of love, victim of love,
Lord, I never thought
Id be a victim of love
Im down on love
An I feel like a fool
To beg for mercy
cos I broke the rules
So do me no favours
With your cool advice,
I know the losing cost,
An Ill pay the price
One more heartache
Dont bother me
One more lonely night
To drown in misery
I am a victim of love,
A victim of love,
Lord, I never thought
Id be a victim of love
Victim of love,
A victim of love,
Lord, I never thought
Id be a victim of love
One more heartache
Dont bother me

[...] Read more

song performed by Whitesnake
Added by Lucian Velea
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Work!

Work or no luck
If you don't have work
You get killed sitting still
Work or no luck
If you have too much work
You get killed struggling still
Work or no luck
If you finish fast
You get killed killing time
Work or no luck
If you don't finish on time
You get finished on time
Work or no luck
If you do well
You get recognized well
Work or no luck
If you do not do well
You get the pink paper wall
Work or no luck
If you are organized
You finish it on time
Work or no luck
If you are disorganized
You get finished on time
Work or no luck
If you are interested
Toughest becomes easy
Work or no luck
If you are not interested
Easiest thing becomes toughest
Work or no luck
If you are carving
You keep doing it great
Work or no luck
If you are not carving
You keep doing it a trait
Work or no luck
If you have work
You have luck
Work or no luck
If you have work
Still nothing to do
You have no luck
That's the fate of
Work or luck! ! ! !

poem by Umasree Raghunath
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Everybody's A Victim

Everybody's a victim
Seems we're going that way
Everybody's a victim
We're becoming like the USA
Everybody's a victim
Seems we're going that way
Everybody's a victim
We're becoming like the USA
I demand recompense
For sitting on the fence
Throughout my adult life
You've got to put my parents in jail
For raising me in Fife
It doesn't matter what I do
You have to say it's alright
And I need you to send somebody around
To tuck me in at night
Because...
Everybody's a victim
Seems we're going that way
Everybody's a victim
We're becoming like the USA
Well it's not my fault
That I'm positive
I just stuck a needle in my arm
And nobody told me
That sixty a day
Would do me any harm
My liver's shrivelling like a leaf
But it's not the whisky that doo's it
Call me irresponsible
And I'm really going to lose it
Because...
Everybody's a victim
Seems we're going that way
Everybody's a victim
We're becoming like the USA
Wear a ribbon for this
Hug a stranger for that
Light a candle to the dead
And soon you'll forget
That you ever had
A brain inside our head
We value everythin the same
We turn it into farce
So we don't know a crisis
'Till it kicks us up the arse
Because...
Everybody's a victim
Seems we're going that way

[...] Read more

song performed by Proclaimers
Added by Lucian Velea
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Blame the Victim

Blame the victim.
Steal from them.
Blame the victim.
Isolate them.
Blame the victim.
And use this as your defense.
Blame the victim.
If it enhances your life,
With a purpose meant.

Blame the victim.
Steal from them.
Blame the victim.
Isolate them.
Blame the victim.
And use this as your defense.
Blame the victim.
If it enhances your life,
With a purpose meant.

Blame the victim.
If it enhances your life,
With a purpose meant.

Blame the victim.
If it enhances your life,
With a purpose meant.

Blame the victim.
If it enhances your life,
With a purpose meant.

Blame the victim.
Blame the victim.
Blame the victim.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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L’Invention

O fils du Mincius, je te salue, ô toi
Par qui le dieu des arts fut roi du peuple-roi!
Et vous, à qui jadis, pour créer l'harmonie,
L'Attique et l'onde Égée, et la belle Ionie,
Donnèrent un ciel pur, les plaisirs, la beauté,
Des moeurs simples, des lois, la paix, la liberté,
Un langage sonore aux douceurs souveraines,
Le plus beau qui soit né sur des lèvres humaines!
Nul âge ne verra pâlir vos saints lauriers,
Car vos pas inventeurs ouvrirent les sentiers;
Et du temple des arts que la gloire environne
Vos mains ont élevé la première colonne.
A nous tous aujourd'hui, vos faibles nourrissons,
Votre exemple a dicté d'importantes leçons.
Il nous dit que nos mains, pour vous être fidèles,
Y doivent élever des colonnes nouvelles.
L'esclave imitateur naît et s'évanouit;
La nuit vient, le corps reste, et son ombre s'enfuit.

Ce n'est qu'aux inventeurs que la vie est promise.
Nous voyons les enfants de la fière Tamise,
De toute servitude ennemis indomptés;
Mieux qu'eux, par votre exemple, à vous vaincre excités,
Osons; de votre gloire éclatante et durable
Essayons d'épuiser la source inépuisable.
Mais inventer n'est pas, en un brusque abandon,
Blesser la vérité, le bon sens, la raison;
Ce n'est pas entasser, sans dessein et sans forme,
Des membres ennemis en un colosse énorme;
Ce n'est pas, élevant des poissons dans les airs,
A l'aile des vautours ouvrir le sein des mers;
Ce n'est pas sur le front d'une nymphe brillante
Hérisser d'un lion la crinière sanglante:
Délires insensés! fantômes monstrueux!
Et d'un cerveau malsain rêves tumultueux!
Ces transports déréglés, vagabonde manie,
Sont l'accès de la fièvre et non pas du génie;
D'Ormus et d'Ariman ce sont les noirs combats,
Où, partout confondus, la vie et le trépas,
Les ténèbres, le jour, la forme et la matière,
Luttent sans être unis; mais l'esprit de lumière
Fait naître en ce chaos la concorde et le jour:
D'éléments divisés il reconnaît l'amour,
Les rappelle; et partout, en d'heureux intervalles,
Sépare et met en paix les semences rivales.
Ainsi donc, dans les arts, l'inventeur est celui
Qui peint ce que chacun put sentir comme lui;
Qui, fouillant des objets les plus sombres retraites,
Étale et fait briller leurs richesses secrètes;
Qui, par des noeuds certains, imprévus et nouveaux,

[...] Read more

poem by Andre Marie de Chenier
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hindi poem- Astitv

Aaj Aasuon Se Dil Bheeg Gaya,
Par Sharir Par Ek Boond Bhi Na Pad Payi Thi,

Aaj Duniya Ki Bheed Se Kayi Aage Nikal Aayi Mai,
Par Vahi Ki Vahi Khadi Reh Gayi Thi,

Aaj Kamyabi Ko Kadam Chumne Par Majboor Kar Diya,
Par Rishto Ki Raho Se Hi Juda Ho Gayi Thi,

Kayi Sathi Pa Liye Maine,
Par Sath Hi Na Pa Payi Thi,

Royi Thi Main Par Aasu Sukh Gaye The,
Hasi Bhi Thi Shayad Par Aatma Jhuthi Ho Gayi Thi,

Har Labz Par Apna Naam,
Har Jagah Apne Chehre Apni Aawaz Ko Pa Liya,
Par Khud Khokhli Ho Gayi Thi,

Jisne Apne Dum Par Bade Bado Ko Maat Di,
Aaj Khud Ki Nazaro Se Maat Kha Gayi Thi,

Jise Aaj Puri Duniya Dekhne Ko Tarasti Hain,
Jane Vo Khud Kaha Kho Gayi Thi..........

poem by Apurva Jain
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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:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Annus Mirabilis, The Year Of Wonders, 1666

1
In thriving arts long time had Holland grown,
Crouching at home and cruel when abroad:
Scarce leaving us the means to claim our own;
Our King they courted, and our merchants awed.

2
Trade, which, like blood, should circularly flow,
Stopp'd in their channels, found its freedom lost:
Thither the wealth of all the world did go,
And seem'd but shipwreck'd on so base a coast.

3
For them alone the heavens had kindly heat;
In eastern quarries ripening precious dew:
For them the Idumaean balm did sweat,
And in hot Ceylon spicy forests grew.

4
The sun but seem'd the labourer of the year;
Each waxing moon supplied her watery store,
To swell those tides, which from the line did bear
Their brimful vessels to the Belgian shore.

5
Thus mighty in her ships, stood Carthage long,
And swept the riches of the world from far;
Yet stoop'd to Rome, less wealthy, but more strong:
And this may prove our second Punic war.

6
What peace can be, where both to one pretend?
(But they more diligent, and we more strong)
Or if a peace, it soon must have an end;
For they would grow too powerful, were it long.

7
Behold two nations, then, engaged so far
That each seven years the fit must shake each land:
Where France will side to weaken us by war,
Who only can his vast designs withstand.

8
See how he feeds the Iberian with delays,
To render us his timely friendship vain:
And while his secret soul on Flanders preys,
He rocks the cradle of the babe of Spain.

9
Such deep designs of empire does he lay

[...] Read more

poem by John Dryden
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Victim of his own Success

Man, victim of his own success, must fast grasp opportunity
to offer all equality of chances and advances stress
as the ability to press for rights for disability
the strong ignore, or fail to bless.

Man, victim of his own success, does not deserve impunity
when biosphere supportive he still stifles in the name of, - guess, -
‘Democracy’, free-choice oppress through ways of ta[l]king liberty
as only freedom to repress.

Man, victim of his own success, - tale’s pun, - few marks of modesty
retains, yet with anxiety observes galactic game of chess
while most Earth’s problems won’t address. This manifest dichotomy
highlights concerns we should assess.

Man, victim of his own success, needs to transcend his history
predative, channel energy towards solutions which suppress
his immaturity, redress the balance of society,
extend awareness free from stress.

Man, victim of his own success, must sail beyond tsunami he
created to a safer sea where winds of change may not express
a whirlwind strange that all confess none can control. Society
must change or soon will sink, regress.

Man, victim of his own success, must map return to sanity,
respect with assiduity the planet’s need to convalesce,
create conditions which attest acceptance by humanity
of overview which won’t aggress.

Man, victim of his own success, must understand ecology
requires intrinsic harmony, may join “I wish” to “I possess”
providing much more, - never less, - is harvested with equity,
without the urge to dispossess.

Man, victim of his own success should heed the lessons most agree
accompany pride’s apogee, and not attempt to second guess
the seasons’ reasons or finesse. Where just fat few progress we see
misuse far more than maladdresse.

Man, victim of his own success, beyond base skills of repartee,
should take time off from Time to key into distortions which transgress
ideals which should not ever stress the views of tight community
or vested interests. Nonetheless, -

Man, victim of his own success, must meet the challenges that he
has catalyzed - calamity around the corner waits unless
he acts - declines to acquiesque with urbane equanimity, -
protects his progeny’s success…

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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What’s Luck?

Luck is something that comes, not so often;
Luck is an occurrence in life, quite rare;
Luck’s unpredictable phenomenon;
Luck is a devil that is rarely kind!

Luck’s the last thing one should ev’r depend on;
Luck cannot simply come to all always;
Luck can’t work magic without labor hard;
Luck is futile if basic things aren’t done.

Luck is a make-up that needs a good face;
Luck’s a pretty dame with contours and shape;
Luck is an element of great surprise;
Luck is not the usual way, world goes by!

Luck is the decoration on a cake;
Luck’s a factor that clicks for some at times;
Luck isn’t the first thing, we trust any time;
Perseverance is key to success prime.

Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-23-2009

poem by John Celes
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Celebrate The News

Hello
My luck was so bad
I thought I used up all the luck I had
Everytime I thought I'd get it on
Someone put me on
There's been a change
Beautiful and strange
My life's gone through a change
Somehow I know (somehow I know)
Bad luck's in the past
All good things here at last
So now we'll grow
There's been a change
Mmmmm
Bad luck (no more)
No bad luck (no more)
No bad luck (no more)
No bad luck (no more)
I got news for you
There ain't no blues
I got news for you
No bad luck (no more)
No bad luck (no more)
No bad luck (no more)
I got news for you
There ain't no blues
I got news for you
No bad luck (no more)
No bad luck (no more)
No bad luck (no more)
I got news for you
There ain't no blues
I got news for you
No bad luck (no more)
No bad luck (no more)
Listen to the boys loud and clear
Come on folks withstand you fears
Sail away the choice is yours you choose
Celebrate the news
There ain't no blues
Come on, come on, come on

song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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