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How Do You Use Your Gifts?

I'm using my blessings and faith,
To create identifiable miracles.
And you?
How do you use your gifts?
In the begging of stuff?
That others have?
By using their own,
Faith kept persisted.
And what they have manage to materialize,
Makes you jealous and mad?
Your selfishness is pathetic!

How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.

How do you use your gifts?
In the begging of stuff?
That others have?
By using their own,
Faith kept persisted.

How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.
How do you use your gifts?
Do you help lift other minds around.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Believer's Principles : Chap. IV.

Faith and Sense Natural, compared and distinguished.

When Abram's body, Sarah's womb,
Were ripe for nothing but the tomb,
Exceeding old, and wholly dead,
Unlike to bear the promis'd seed:

Faith said, 'I shall an Isaac see;'
'No, no,' said Sense, 'it cannot be;'
Blind Reason, to augment the strife,
Adds, 'How can death engender life?'

My heart is like a rotten tomb,
More dead than ever Sarah's womb;
O! can the promis'd seed of grace
Spring forth from such a barren place?

Sense gazing but on flinty rocks,
My hope and expectation chokes:
But could I, skill'd in Abram's art,
O'erlook my dead and barren heart;

And build my hope on nothing less
That divine pow'r and faithfulness;
Soon would I find him raise up sons
To Abram, out of rocks and stones.

Faith acts as busy boatmen do,
Who backward look and forward row;
It looks intent to things unseen,
Thinks objects visible too mean.

Sense thinks it madness thus to steer,
And only trusts its eye and ear;
Into faith's boat dare thrust its oar,
And put it further from the shore.

Faith does alone the promise eye;
Sense won't believe unless it see;
Nor can it trust the divine guide,
Unless it have both wind and tide.

Faith thinks the promise sure and good;
Sense doth depend on likelihood;
Faith ev'n in storms believes the seers;
Sense calls all men, ev'n prophets, liars.

Faith uses means, but rests on none;
Sense sails when outward means are gone:

[...] Read more

poem by Ralph Erskine
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Give and Free It Up On The Rough Stuff

When I was hard,
It wasn't enough.
The sensitive and warm nice guy,
I had to give with no hint of the tough stuff.

I was the one who supplied the tenderness,
With touches.
Supplied I did the sweet kisses too!
You want it tough and rough and ready,
Through the weekends.
And all week until we get through too!

The sensitive and warm nice guy,
I had to be with no hint of the tough stuff.
You want it tough and rough and ready,
Through the weekends.
And all week until we get through too!

You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.
I like to get it and receive it with a tender touch.
I like to feel it getting heated with a whispered love.
I like to get it and receive it with a tender touch.
I like to feel it getting heated with a whispered love.
You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.

Free it up to give it up!
That rough stuff.
Free it up to give it up!
That rough stuff.
Free it up to give it up!
That rough stuff.
That rough stuff.
That rough stuff.

You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.
I like to get it and receive it with a tender touch.
I like to feel it getting heated with a whispered love.
I like to get it and receive it with a tender touch.
I like to feel it getting heated with a whispered love.
You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.

I was the one who supplied the tenderness,
With touches.
Supplied I did sweet kisses too!
You want it tough and rough and ready,
Through the weekends.
And all week until we get through too!

You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.
You've got to give and free it up on the rough stuff.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Jealous

(jo allen)
Jealous, jealous, jealous, jealous,
Jealous, jealous,
When I see you with that guy
And he catches your pretty eye
You know it makes we want to die
And Im left out to dry
You know it makes me want to feel
Jealous, jealous,
Jealous, jealous,
Dont you know that it makes me green
When I think about you and him
Im just an end to all your means
And Im torn apart at the seams
You know it makes me want to feel
Jealous, jealous,
Jealous, jealous,
When I see you with that guy
And he catches your pretty eye
You know it makes we want to die
Oh, and Im left out to dry
You know it makes me want to feel
You know it makes me want to feel jealous, jealous,
Jealous, jealous,
Jealous, jealous,
Jealous, jealous,
Jealous, jealous,
Jealous, jealous,
Jealous, jealous,
Jealous, jealous,

song performed by Robert Palmer
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rot Stuff

Sittin' here eatin' my heart out waitin'
Waitin' for this funeral to end
Dug up about a thousand graves lately
My tastes are what some might call
A little more then just off the wall

Lookin' for some rot stuff baby this evenin'
I need some rot stuff baby tonight
I want some rot stuff baby this evenin'
Gotta have some rot stuff
Gotta have your corpse tonight
Rot stuff
I need rot stuff
I want some rot stuff

Lookin' for a lover who's 6 feet under
Don' t want another night on my own
Wanna share my fetish with a cold blooded lover
Wanna bring a dead man back home

Gotta have some rot stuff baby this evenin'
I need some rot stuff baby tonight
I want some rot stuff baby this evenin'
Gotta have something cold
Gotta have something rotting under me tonight
I need rot stuff
Cold rot
Lookin' for cold rot

Rot, rot, rot, rot stuff
Rot, rot, rot
Rot, rot, rot, rot stuff
Rot, rot, rot

How's about some rot stuff baby this evenin'
I need some rot stuff baby tonight
Gimme a little rot stuff this evenin'
Rot stuff baby
Gonna need your corpse tonight
Rot stuff
I need something cold and rotting
Lookin' for some rot stuff
Wanna make love to a dead man tonight

Sittin' here eatin' my heart out
No more listening to this funeral march can I do
Won't waste another night or moment on my own
I've dug up about a hundred graves baby
I'm bound to find somebody as horny as I am tonight

[...] Read more

poem by Ramona Thompson
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Palace Flophouse

the palace flophouse,
is a good place to be
if you ever need any help,
like if anyone's ever dead
the palace flophouse,
is a good place to be
if you ever need any help,
like if anyone's every dead
mad dog, mad dog, mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (she looks onto my face) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (and i looked right by you) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (she looked onto her face) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (i'll never see you again) mad dog, coming dog
the palace flophouse,
is a good place to be
if you ever need any help,
like if anyone's ever dead
the palace flophouse,
is a good place to be
if you ever need any help,
like if anyone's every dead
mad dog, mad dog, mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (i look onto her face) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (and i walked right by you) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (she looked onto my face) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (i'll never see you again) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (i'll never see you again) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (i'll never see you again) mad dog, coming dog
mad dog, mad dog, (i'll never see you again) mad dog, coming dog

song performed by Idlewild
Added by Lucian Velea
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Jealous

Yeah.. youknowhatimsayin? eh-heh
Its real funny youknowhatimean?
I like cant believe this yknow
Jealousy like tried to move on me youknowhatimsayin?
So I said nah I aint gonna, yknow
Make no energetic hyped up yellin, type joint, knowhatimean?
Im just gon cool back, youknowhatimsayin?
Word up to this slow gangster beat type thing
Check it out yo..
Jealousy - I wanna kill him and shoot him
Hes a sucker - Id like to execute him
Recruit him - put him in my school and school him
I said somethin simple, and I knew that Id fool him
Hes only mediocre, jealousy cant get with me
Hang up your clothes, cause jealousy aint spent to me
Hes just a monkey, ridin my back
In fact I kidnap, ramsack, hijack and backslap the fool..
.. see my name is cool j
I play for keeps, the microphones my tool
Ive been holdin back long enough I had to bring it
Jealousy is in the house yall, fellas sing it
Jealous.. jealous..
Theres no need to be
Jealous.. jealous..
Bih mellow, youknowhatimsayin?
Jealous.. jealous..
Gangster groove, word up knowhatimsayin?
Jealous.. jealous..
Check it out yall
Im not lackadaisical or lazy on the microphone
I bring the bacon home so jealousy go home
Or play the wall and pout about the way the prince is rollin
So when they give it up, stand back and start foldin
All your jealous show clothes, I think you need to grab a
Half-pint of cisco and hang out with backstabber
Cause ima break down all walls jealousy built
And then walk tall, like Im standin on stilts yeah
Jealousy the jam is mean youll have to rewind it
If you didnt know about him, you must have been blinded
Ask him if Im right, hell tell you he sure is
Excuse me for a moment, fellas sing a smooth chorus
Jealous.. jealous..
Knowhatimsayin? smooth, word up
Jealous.. jealous..
Huh, crazy gangster beat, youknowhatimsayin?
Its like a gangster lean
Jealous.. jealous..
Yeah yeah youknowhatimsayin?
Its cool j in the house, youknowhatimsayin?
Jealous.. jealous..

[...] Read more

song performed by LL Cool J
Added by Lucian Velea
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Jealous Lover

To all of those who had their doubts
Now those doubts... I forgive them
To everyone whos led one life
Then love life... its humble rhythm
To all of those who harbour dreams
All you get... is what youre given
Meanwhile the maximum... maximum goes down
Right from the start
I knew youd break my heart
Jealous lover... jealous lover
Rope tied and bound
I been lost and found
Jealous lover... jealous lover
Jealous of my loving
Jealous of my leaving...jealous
Jealous of my living
Jealous of my breathing
Jealous lover... jealous lover
If all they say and do were true
Just like you... Id be with em
But lies survive... and cut right through
While the truth... remains forbidden
For every single point of view
Then theres two... that must be hidden
Meantime the maximum... maximum goes down
Right from the start
I knew youd break my heart
Jealous lover... jealous lover
Rope tied and bound
I been lost and found
Jealous lover... jealous lover
Jealous of my loving
Jealous of my leaving...jealous
Jealous of my living
Jealous of my breathing
Jealous lover... theres no other
Meantime - the maximum... maximum
Nothing more and nothing less
Grip tight - the maximum... the maximum
You say no... I say yes
Dont be... dont be... dont be
Jealous lover - jealous lover

song performed by Abc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Luv Your Stuff

(myles goodwyn)
Published by mfg sing sing music/socan - ascap
Everytime I get restless, I see my hand knockin on your door
And everytime Im in a fix baby, I start actin like I need you more
Well Ive been lookin for someone to talk to
And Ive been searchin for a better way
And Ive been runnin all over town, girl
Ive been lookin each and every way, yeah
But you got somethin special
And Im bein on the level with you
You got that thing that moves me, yeah
(great stuff, luv your stuff), mmm, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), at five oclock in the morning
(great stuff, luv your stuff), still cant get enough
(great stuff, luv your stuff)
Livin like a fool in flames
You know that I been usin you, girl
And Im the one to blame
But babe, I got my cupboards all stocked and ready
What you get girl, is what you see
And youve been lookin inside my head now
And you got your arms wrapped around me, mmm
I got no thing for our candy
Its your lovin girl, that gets me down
You got that thing that moves me, yeah
(great stuff, luv your stuff), ooh, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), send the bill in the morning
(great stuff, luv your stuff), I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), get busy
I got no sense of reason, I know I gotta make a deal
Its all comin down to somethin baby, its tellin me I got to get real, huh
I got my senses in a tuft, Im all mixed up, my temperatures starting to rise
And I cant seem to stay away from you, girl, I think its more than we realized, yeah
Wont you look what its doin
Its your lovin girl, that gets me down
You got that thing that moves me, yeah
(great stuff, luv your stuff), ooh, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff), Ill pay the price in the morning
(great stuff, luv your stuff), ooh, I luv your stuff
(great stuff, luv your stuff)

song performed by April Wine
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hot Stuff

(coverdale)
Im ready for you,
Are you ready for me
Ive got a burning heart,
It wont let me be
I feel the hunger, my spirit yearns,
Ive got to feed the fever
Of a love that burns
I walk the street round midnight,
Looking for a little hot stuff,
I cant get enuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Hot stuff, hot stuff
Im hard to handle,
Too hot to hold
I cant seem to satisfy
My heart an soul
I need a woman to set me free,
A little miss understanding
To feel the need in me
I walk the street round midnight,
Looking for a little hot stuff,
I cant get enuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Cant get enuff, hot stuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Cant get enuff
Im ready for you,
Are you ready for me
Ive got a burning heart,
It wont let me be
I feel the hunger, my spirit yearns,
Ive got to feed the fever
Of a love that burns
I walk the street round midnight
Looking for a little hot stuff,
I cant get enuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Hot stuff, hot stuff,
Hot stuff, hot stuff,
Hot stuff, hot stuff,
Hot stuff, hot stuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff,
Cant get enuff, hot stuff,
I just cant get enuff, hot stuff
Hot stuff, cant get enuff hot stuff...

song performed by Whitesnake
Added by Lucian Velea
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Virginia's Story

Elizabeth Gates-Wooten is my Grand mom.

She was born in Canada with her father and brothers.
They owned a Barber Shoppe.
I don't remember exactly where in Canada.
I believe it was right over the border like Windsor or Toronto.
I never knew exactly where it was.

When she was old enough she got married.

First, she married a man by the name of Frank Gates.
He was from Madagascar.
He fathered my mom and her brother and sister.
The boy's name was Frank Gates, Jr.
Two girls name were Anna and Agnes.

Agnes was my mother.

Frank Gates went crazy after the war
He drank a lot and died
Then grandma Elizabeth married a man by the name of Mr. Wooten.
He had a German name, but I don't think he was German.
She took his last name after they got married.

Then they moved to West Virginia in the United States.

Their son, Frank Gates Jr. Became a delegate in the democratic party.
He use to get into a lot of trouble because he liked to fight.
He was a delegate from the 1940's to 1970's.
He died of gout in the 1970's.

Anna was a maid and cook.

She baked cakes and stuff for people as a side line.
She had a hump on her back (scoliosis) .
She had to walk with a cane.
She could cook good though.
She did this kind of work all of her life, just like her mom, Elizabeth

They were both good cooks

They had a lot of money because they had these skills
Especially when people had parties.
Because they would make all of this food and then they would have left-overs.
We got to eat a lot of stuff we normally wouldn't get because of that.
When they cooked, they didn't use no measuring stuff, they would just use there hand.

My moms name was Agnes Barrie Gates.

She married James Wright and moved to Cleveland.

[...] Read more

poem by Talile Ali
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Mad Not Mad

The windows are open wide
Georgie fame for those outside
And answering the call
Blue flames leap up the wall
Who would have thought it strange
That all of us would change
Out there in the hall
The shadows leave the wall
Then we had the plan
Back when it began
And as we turn we know
That one of us will go
(would you) dance with a mad man, mad man, mad man
Over the hills and far away
Arm in arm
Mad not mad
A star-spangled sight
Silhouettes at night
Dancing over big ben
Seven ragged men
Up up and away
Forever and a day
(would you) dance with a mad man, mad man, mad man
Over the hills and far away
Arm in arm
Mad not mad
Dance with a mad man, mad man, mad man
Beyond the reach of yesterday
What are we but our friends
Mad not mad
(mad not mad)
Hello crazy gang
Goodbye with a bang
What are we but our friends
Sailing round the bend
In love through thick and thin
I know it will all win
(would you) dance with a mad man, mad man, mad man
Over the hills and far away
Arm in arm
Mad not mad
Dance with a mad man, mad man, mad man
Beyond the reach of yesterday
What are we but our friends
Mad not mad
Dance with a mad man, mad man, mad man
As only you can
Enjoying his company

song performed by Madness
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Believe In Miracles.

I believe in Miracles - I've seen the risng Sun
I believe in Miracles - I've seen the cheetah run.
I believe in Miracles - I've seen my baby born
I believe in Miracles - I've glimpst the unicorn.
I believe in Miracles - Man walked on the Moon
I believe in Miracles - They're every day in June.
I believe in Miracles - I've seen a junkie cured
I believe in Miracles - A winos been restored
I believe in Miracles - My firends survive car crashes
I believe in Miracles - When England won the ashes!
I believe in Miracles - We trashed the Berlin Wall
I believe in Miracles - We stood and watched it fall.
I believe in Miracles - The harvest grain is stored
I believe in Miracles - When David Beckham scored!
I believe in Miracles - In every path I've trod
I believe in Miracles - 'Cos I believe in GOD!

poem by John Knight
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Ruffled Up

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
This stuff that's got me ruffled up!

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Because I'm tough enough.

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
This stuff that's got me ruffled up!

I'm gotta beat it.
Since I can't leave it.
To grieve over weeping.
And compare my pains.

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
This stuff that's got me ruffled up!

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Yes!
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Yes!

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
This stuff that's got me ruffled up!

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Yes!
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Yes!
I'm gonna beat this stuff.
That's got me ruffled up!

I've had it,
With this stuff.
Too many,
Suffer enough.
And too much stuff that corrupts...
Is,
Enough!

I've had it,
With this stuff.
Too many,
Suffer enough.
And too much stuff that corrupts...
Is,
Enough!

I'm gonna beat this stuff.
Yes!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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We've All Been Greedy

Those peaceful nights for some have passed.
Those feeling safe...
In sheltered communities behind closed gates.
Are awakening.
But not to Robins singing.
To peer from behind French customed made doors.
Swinging out onto the patio.
Overlooking acres upon acres upon more acres,
Of freshly cut grass.

These awareness days have come upon us fast.
Who would believe such a quick erasing,
Of a way of life....
Would come to pass.
And leave those embittered with much grief,
With streaks of torment on twisted faces.
Disgraced and now nervously pacing.
In wait.
But for what?
When the 'why' of it has arrived too late!

We've been greedy.
See what gluttony does when it can't be overcomed.
We've been greedy,
And feeding on our selfishness.
While ripping the hearts out of those to sustain it.
Doing everything to gain more and maintain it.

We've been greedy!
And..
The stinging of the realness,
Persists.
And can not be contained.
Acts of civil madness...
Spreads fast!

Thousands go out of their minds.
Many more are trapped!

Something in their minds have snapped.
Only those exposed to fantasies,
Are observed doing that.

And a waste of explanation can not bring them back!
Their self delusions have attacked.

Leaving us all affected by that 'fat'!
Yes fat!

Undisciplined rascists...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Bishop Blougram's Apology

No more wine? then we'll push back chairs and talk.
A final glass for me, though: cool, i' faith!
We ought to have our Abbey back, you see.
It's different, preaching in basilicas,
And doing duty in some masterpiece
Like this of brother Pugin's, bless his heart!
I doubt if they're half baked, those chalk rosettes,
Ciphers and stucco-twiddlings everywhere;
It's just like breathing in a lime-kiln: eh?
These hot long ceremonies of our church
Cost us a little—oh, they pay the price,
You take me—amply pay it! Now, we'll talk.

So, you despise me, Mr. Gigadibs.
No deprecation—nay, I beg you, sir!
Beside 't is our engagement: don't you know,
I promised, if you'd watch a dinner out,
We'd see truth dawn together?—truth that peeps
Over the glasses' edge when dinner's done,
And body gets its sop and holds its noise
And leaves soul free a little. Now's the time:
Truth's break of day! You do despise me then.
And if I say, "despise me"—never fear!
1 know you do not in a certain sense—
Not in my arm-chair, for example: here,
I well imagine you respect my place
(Status, entourage, worldly circumstance)
Quite to its value—very much indeed:
—Are up to the protesting eyes of you
In pride at being seated here for once—
You'll turn it to such capital account!
When somebody, through years and years to come,
Hints of the bishop—names me—that's enough:
"Blougram? I knew him"—(into it you slide)
"Dined with him once, a Corpus Christi Day,
All alone, we two; he's a clever man:
And after dinner—why, the wine you know—
Oh, there was wine, and good!—what with the wine . . .
'Faith, we began upon all sorts of talk!
He's no bad fellow, Blougram; he had seen
Something of mine he relished, some review:
He's quite above their humbug in his heart,
Half-said as much, indeed—the thing's his trade.
I warrant, Blougram's sceptical at times:
How otherwise? I liked him, I confess!"
Che che, my dear sir, as we say at Rome,
Don't you protest now! It's fair give and take;
You have had your turn and spoken your home-truths:
The hand's mine now, and here you follow suit.

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from Men and Women (1855)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Dont Believe In Miracles

Written by russ ballard, 1980
Found on alibi.
I walk along the road and past your door
Then I remember things you said
I know in time we couldve been so much more
But if you wanna come back home, go right ahead
But I dont believe in miracles
I dont believe in miracles
But I thought you might show your face
Or have the grace to tell me where you are
I believe I was your game, your ball (your ball)
If you tossed me up then I would fall
And so youve won again, ah, you win them all
But I believe Id run to you, if you should call
But I dont believe in miracles (dont believe in miracles)
I dont believe in miracles (dont believe in miracles)
But I thought you might show your face
Or have the grace to tell me where you are (tell me where you are)
I believe that somewhere theres someone
Whos gonna light the way when things go wrong
The bullet that shot me down came from your gun
The words that turned me round were from your song
But I dont believe in miracles (dont believe in miracles)
I dont believe in miracles (dont believe in miracles)
But I thought you might show your face
Or have the grace to tell me where you are (tell me where you are)
But I dont believe in miracles (dont believe in miracles)
I dont believe in miracles (dont believe in miracles)
But I thought you might show your face
Or have the grace to tell me where you are

song performed by America
Added by Lucian Velea
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He was every person's Creator

For every bird gruesomely killed; he had the power to
create infinite more fledglings,

For every river dried miserably to a trickle; he had
the power to create infinite oceans,

For every tree brutally chopped to the ground; he had
the power to create infinite forests,

For every eye inadvertently blinded; he had the power
to create infinite with sight,

For every satanic night taking a complete stranglehold
on light; he had the power to create infinite
brilliant days,

For every tongue which was disdainfully dumb; he had
the power to create infinite mouths which could speak
and shout,

For every iota of currency furtively stolen; he had
the power to create infinite banks looming high and
handsome till the heavens,

For every couple who was childless and rendered
cruelly unable to procreate; he had the power to
create infinite more households bustling with a
battalion of toddlers,

For every brain that was wholesomely exhausted; he
had the power to create infinite intelligent minds,

For every child disastrously orphaned on the streets;
he had the power to create infinite families complete
in all respects,
For every blade of grass mercilessly trampled; he had
the power to create infinite meadows of lush green
crop,

For every skeleton lying disdainfully buried under the
coffin; he had the power to create infinite bodies;
dancing about in robust health and thunderous fervor,

For every scalp that was balder than the egg; he had
the power to create infinite strands of shimmering
hair,

For every life lost unwittingly during the tumultuous
earthquake; he had the power to create infinite more
souls as Kings,

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
Added by Poetry Lover
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Jealous

(rod stewart / jay davis, carmine appice, danny johnson)
Where was you last night?
And the night before?
Youve got his number implanted in your brain,
Hes been calling you, putting on a stupid name,
I dont own you honey but give me some respect,
Evryones laughin laughin behind my back,
Yeah and Im jealous, yes Im jealous,
Oh!
Youre so cold baby it aint like it used to be,
Im suspicious, youre acting so deviously,
Secret phone calls, when you think Im not around,
Youve been seen with him all over town,
Yeah and Im jealous when you look at someone else,
Im so jealous, I want you all to myself,
Im jealous babe,
Im so jealous.
Now does he buy you ruby rings and perfumes from abroad,
Does he hypnotise you with things I cant afford,
Does he drive a cadillac, is he white or is he black,
Whats he got that I aint got, is he really that big?
You bet your life Im jealous babe,
Yeah,
Youve been seen wit him all over town, baby
Yes, Im jealous, goddam jealous
Youve been to angelos for a quiet dinner for two,
Then to shakey jakes where you danced until two,
Then to his place where I know you spent the night,
Got my spies girl, and theyre all
Jealous
Did he really blow your mind,
Did he alway treat you kind,
Does he kiss you like I do,
Did he crawl all over you,
Did he have you on the floor,
Were you screaming out for more,
Is he better than I am,
Are you seeing him again.
Im so jealous when you look at someone else,
Im so jealous, want you all myself,
Im so jealous, its tearing me apart,
Im so jealous, its ripping out my heart,
Im so jealous,
Yes Im so jealous babe,
I told you once before,
Im eatin out my heart, baby,
You make me so weak honey.

song performed by Rod Stewart
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

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