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It IS Milk!

Pretend it is milk!
That is all we are asking you to do!
Just keep pretending that it is.
What difference does it make,
That it isn't produced from a cow?
Keep pretending that it was!
And your pretensions will make it come true.

'But...
It is not milk!
It's not even a cheap version of it.'

Pretend it is milk!
That is all we are asking you to do!
Just keep pretending that it is.
What difference does it make,
That it isn't produced from a cow?
Keep pretending that it was!
And your pretensions will make it come true.

'But...
It is not milk!
It's not even a cheap version of it.'

Pretend it is milk!
That is all we are asking you to do!
Just keep pretending that it is.
What difference does it make,
That it isn't produced from a cow?
Keep pretending that it was!
And your pretensions will make it come true.

'But...
It is not milk!
It's not even a cheap version of it.'

Pretend it is milk!
That is all we are asking you to do!
Just keep pretending that it is.
What difference does it make,
That it isn't produced from a cow?
Keep pretending that it was!
And your pretensions will make it come true.

'It is!
It IS milk! '

Great!
Now...
Let's move on to the meat and vegetables.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Drawing a Purple Blank Verse after Gelett BURGESS Purple Cow

DRAWING A PURPLE BLANK VERSE
Kindly refer to notes

I've never cowed to purple prose
know now I'll never write it,
for anyhow true writer knows
hand stretched finds critics bite it.

I've never wowed, and goodness knows
hacks lack the knack of versing,
won't bow, kowtow to backhand blows,
preferring role reverse_sing.

Ah, yes, I wrote on purple prose,
yet can't regret I penned it,
one far prefers rhyme's timeless flows,
no blush need rush defend it.

10 February 2009
robi03_1856_burg01_0001 PWX_IXX

Parody Gelett BURGESS The Purple Cow

Author notes

For original and variations on a theme see bekiw
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THE PURPLE COW

I never saw a Purple Cow,
I never hope to see one,
But I can tell you anyhow,
I’d rather see than be one.

Gelett BURGESS 1866_1951
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
CONFESSION

Ah, yes! I wrote the « Purple Cow » -
I’m Sorry, now, I Wrote it,
But I can Tell you Anyhow
I’ll Kill you if you Quote it.

Gelett BURGESS 1866_1951
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
A Perfect Woman

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Purple Cow Parodies

Gelett Burgess' original poem…

A Purple Cow

I never saw a Purple Cow,
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I'd rather see than be one.

Poem parodied in the
style of…

John Milton

Hence, vain, deluding cows.
The herd of folly, without colour bright,
How little you delight,
Or fill the Poet's mind, or songs arouse!
But, hail! thou goddess gay of feature!
Hail divinest purple creature!
Oh, Cow, thy visage is too bright
To hit the sense of human sight.
And though I'd like, just once, to see thee
I never, never, never'd be thee!

Percy Bysshe Shelley

Hail to thee, blithe spirit!
Cow thou never wert;
But in life to cheer it
Playest thy full part
In purple lines of unpremeditated art.

The pale purple colour
Melts around thy sight
Like a star, but duller,
In the broad daylight.
I'd see thee, but I would not be thee if I might.

We look before and after
At the cattle as they browse;
Our most hearty laughter
Something sad must rouse.
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of Purple Cows.

[...] Read more

poem by Carolyn Wells
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Cow

Aw, go write yer tinklin' jingle, an' yer pretty phrases mingle,
Fer the mamby-pamby girl, all fluffy frill an' shinin' silk.
Them's the sort ter fetch yer trouble, when yer tries 'em, in the double.
Blow yer beauty! Wot's the matter with the maiden 'oo kin milk?
Them there rhymers uv the wattle! An' the bardlet uv the bottle -
'Im that sings uv sparklin' wine, an' does a perish fer the beer;
An' yer slap-dash 'orsey po-it! Garn! If you blokes only know it,
You 'ave missed the single subjec' fit ter rhyme about down 'ere.
An' although I ain't a bard, with bloomin' bays upon me brow,
I kinsider that it's up ter me ter sing about The Cow.
Cow, Cow
(Though it ain't a pretty row,
It's a word that 'ipnertises me; I couldn't tell yer 'ow.)
Though I ain't a gifted rhymer,
Nor a blamed Parnassus climber,
I'm inspired ter sing a tune er two about the Blessed Cow.

0h, the cow-bells are a-tinklin', and the daisies are a twinklin'
Well, that ain't the style ersackly I intended fer to sing.
'Ark, was over music greater then the buzzin' sepy-rater,
Coinin' gaily money daily fer the - no, that's not the thing!
'Omeward comes the cows a-lowin', an' the butter-cups are blowin';
But there's better butter in the - Blarst ! That ain't the proper way
See the pretty milkmaid walkin' - aw, it ain't no use er talkin'.
Listen 'ere, I want ter tell yer this: A cow's ther thing ter pay!
Sell yer 'orses, sell yer arrers, an' yer reapers, an' yer plough;
If yer want yer land ter pay yer, sacrifice yer life ter Cow
Cow, Cow
Sittin' underneath the bough,
With a bail, an' with a pail, an' with a little stool, an' thou
Kickin' when I pull yer teat there,
Swishin' flies, the pretty creatur.
Ah, there ain't no music sweeter - money squirtin' from the Cow.

Take away the wine-cup; take it. An' the foamin' flagon, break it.
Brimmin' cups uv butter-milk'll set yer glowin' thro' an' thro';
An' the reason I'm teetotal is becos me thrifty throat'll
Jest refuse ter swaller stuff that's costin' me a precious sou.
Once I wus a sinful spender. Used ter go a roarin' bender
Used ter often spend a thruppence when ther' wasn't any need.
An' the many ways I've busted money, when I should er trusted
It ter cattle an' erconomy, 'ud cause yer 'eart ter bleed
But I'm glad, me friends, that godliness 'as made me careful now;
Tho' I lorst the thing wot's next it when I cottoned ter the Cow.
Cow, Cow
Trudin' thro' the sloppy slough.
Ah, I once despised the Jews, but I kin under-stand 'em now
When they needed elevatin',
An' ole Moses kep' 'em waitin'
Fer religi'n, they went straight 'n' sorter substichooted Cow.

[...] Read more

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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100 STD's 10,000 MTD's

There are STD's, sexually transmitted diseases.
and then there are MTD's, meat transmitted diseases.

The latter take a lot more lives.

*********

In Animal Flesh: Blood Sweat Tears as well as Carcinogens Cholesterol Colon Bacteria

Animal products kill more people annually in the US than
tobacco, alcohol, traffic accidents, war, domestic violence,
guns, and drugs combined. USAMRID wrote that consumption of pig flesh caused the world's most lethal pandemic in WW1,
euphemistically called flu. Anthrax
used to be called wool sorters'
disease. Smallpox used to be called
cow pox or kine pox because of
its origin in animal flesh.
.

WHAT'S IN A BURGER? BLOOD SWEAT AND TEARS (AS WELL AS BIOTERRORISM)

POISONS IN ANIMAL AND FISH FLESH... A PARTIAL LIST

a partial list in alphabetical order

acidification diseases
addiction (to trioxypurines)
adrenalin (secreted by terrorized
animals before and during slaughter)

ANTIBIOTICS (too many to list) (crowded factory farm animals standing in their own feces are often infected)

BACTERIA
creiophilic bacteria survive
the freezing of animal flesh
thermophilic bacteria survive
the baking boiling and roasting

bacteriophages (viruses FDA allows to
be injected)
blood
colon bacteria.. euphemistically
called ecoli animals defecate
all over themselves in terror
John Harvey Kellogg MD studied
the exponential rate into the billions

BSE DISEASES, PRIONS IN SPECIES FROM GELATIN (JELLO ETC)
Mad Chicken

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poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Seasonable Retour-Knell

SEASONABLE RETOUR KNELL
Variations on a theme...
SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS

Author notes

A mirrored Retourne may not only be read either from first line to last or from last to first as seen in the mirrors, but also by inverting the first and second phrase of each line, either rhyming AAAA or ABAB for each verse. thus the number of variations could be multiplied several times.- two variations on the theme have been included here but could have been extended as in SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS robi03_0069_robi03_0000

In respect of SEASONABLE ROUND ROBIN ROLE REVERSALS
This composition has sought to explore linguistic potential. Notes and the initial version are placed before rather than after the poem.
Six variations on a theme have been selected out of a significant number of mathematical possibilities using THE SAME TEXT and a reverse mirror for each version. Mirrors repeat the seasons with the lines in reverse order.

For the second roll the first four syllables of each line are reversed, and sense is retained both in the normal order of seasons and the reversed order as well... The 3rd and 4th variations offer ABAB rhyme schemes retaining the original text. The 5th and 6th variations modify the text into rhyming couplets.

Given the linguistical structure of this symphonic composition the score could be read in inversing each and every line and each and every hemistitch. There are minor punctuation differences between versions.

One could probably attain sonnet status for each of the four seasons and through partioning in 3 groups of 4 syllables extend the possibilites ad vitam.

Seasonable Round Robin Roll Reversals
robi03_0069_robi03_0000 QXX_DNZ
Seasonable Retour-Knell
robi03_0070_robi03_0069 QXX_NXX
26 March 1975 rewritten 20070123
lllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll lllllllllllllllllll
For previous version see below
_______________________________________
SPRING SUMMER

Life is at ease Young lovers long
Land under plough; To hold their dear;
Whispering trees, Dewdrops among,
Answering cow. Bold, know no fear.

Blossom, the bees, Life full of song,
Burgeoning bough; Cloudless and clear;
Soft-scented breeze, Days fair and long,
Spring warms life now. Summer sends cheer.

AUTUMN WINTER

Each leaf decays, Harvested sheaves
Each life must bow; And honeyed hives;
Our salad days Trees stripped of leaves,
Are ending now. Jack Frost has knives.

Fruit heavy lays Time, Prince of thieves,
Bending the bough, - Onward he drives,

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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What A Difference Youve Made

What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.
Oh, what a difference youve made
In my life.
What a change you have made in my heart.
What a change you have made in my heart.
You replaced all the broken parts.
Oh, what a change you have made
In my heart.
Love to me was just a word in a song
That had been way overused.
But you gave love a meaning,
So I joined in the singing,
Thats why I wanna spread the news.
What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.
Oh, what a difference youve made,
(what a difference youve made,)
What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
What a difference youve made in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.
What a difference youve made.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
What a difference youve made in my life.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Difference youve made in my life.
(youre my sunshine day and night.)
What a difference youve made.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Difference youve made in my life.
(difference youve made in my life.)
Youre my sunshine day and night.
What a difference youve made.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Youve made a difference in me.
(what a difference youve made in my life.)
Youve made a change in my life.
Youre my sunshine day and night.

song performed by Amy Grant
Added by Lucian Velea
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The greatest sin

Having supremely spell binding eyes was simply not a sin at all; but
pretending that you were gruesomely blind; unable to see a step
further even after possessing them right since innocent childhood;
was the greatest sin,

Having robust complexioned feet was simply not a sin at all; but
pretending that you couldn't walk even an inch forward; had not the
slightest of capacity to run even after possessing them right since
innocent childhood; was the greatest sin,

Having tenaciously knotted fingers projecting from the palm was
simply not a sin at all; but pretending that you had grave difficulty
in hoisting objects; didn't posses the most minuscule of power to
defend yourself even after possessing them right since innocent
childhood; was the greatest sin,

Having dangling earlobes delectably cascading from the periphery of
your rubicund cheek was simply not a sin at all; but pretending that
you couldn't bear the tiniest of sound; floundered miserably to
decipher the intricacy of voice even after possessing them right
since innocent childhood; was the greatest sin,

Having a perfectly throbbing heart palpitating in marvellous
synchrony inside your chest was simply not a sin at all; but
pretending that you just didn't have the power to love; the virtue to
embrace other humans of your kind even after possessing it right
since innocent childhood; was the greatest sin,

Having dual pairs of luscious lips was simply not a sin at all; but
pretending that you couldn't speak a single word; abysmally stuttered
to convey the most infinitesimal of message to your compatriots even
after possessing them right since innocent childhood; was the
greatest sin,

Having ravishing clusters of hair on your scalp was simply not a sin
at all; but pretending that God had kept you disdainfully bald; that
your head shivered uncontrollably in cold even after possessing them
right since innocent childhood; was the greatest sin,

Having boundless lines on your glowing palm was simply not a sin at
all; but pretending that your entire life was ruined; your progress
had come to an abrupt standstill even after possessing them right
since innocent childhood; was the greatest sin,

Having pompously bulging muscle in your arms was simply not a sin at
all; but pretending that you were as feeble as a mosquito; couldn't
lift your very own body even after having them right since innocent
childhood; was the greatest sin,

Having thousands of voluptuously tantalizing eyelashes extruding from

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Interpretations

INTERPRETATIONS

Fat fortune's made, flat wife Dow fed
rat’s force runes laid, bat - strife - ciao - bed.

Version I Final Hour
Undefeated, all round oppressed,
pun deleted, fall sound suppressed.

Version II Foresight
Insightful plans in stealth prepared
sin, night, culls man, win’s wealth despaired.

Version III Adultery
Distresses through, fears one must stifle,
mistresses two, years won, lust, trifle.

Version IV Dixit Spouse
He’d rule, make hay, term ends today,
heed fool, fake bay, worm wends to play.

Version V Dixit Daughter
Who hid himself behind his wealth
in failing health must part from pelf.

Version VI Dixit Son
Abusing all, refusing fall,
lewd now must stall, cued to Death’s call

Version VII Dixit Bureaucrat
Who played sly hand, f[l]ame fanned, cold dust,
grew, greyed, sigh banned, aim sand, old, bust.

Version VIII Conclusion
Statistics show life’s little glow
soon ebbs, tide’s flow goes where none know.
Bonanza dreams, boon nailed, no shows,
so stanza schemes soon fail, flow slows.

23 March 1975 revised 4 February 2009
robi03_1464_robi03_0000 HXX_MXX
For previous version entitled The Art of Interpretation see below
f[l]ame: aim’s fame flame lame

The Art of Interpretation

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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I’m Pretending

I’m pretending nothing happened,
that we are still together.
I’m pretending you never
went away with someone new.
I’m pretending we are still a couple,
that you are still nearby.
I’m pretending,
pretending
I am still with you.

I’m pretending that our love
still shines brightly.
I’m pretending that you still care
and lying to myself each day.
I’m pretending that you just stepped out
and that you are not far away.
I’m pretending,
pretending
I am still with you.

I’m pretending it always summer
and that winter never comes.
I’m pretending life is as it was
and I’m forever with you.
I’m pretending you are with me
and not in the arms of someone new.
I’m pretending that I am smiling
and that I’m not feeling blue.
I’m pretending,
pretending
I am still with you.

20 April 2009

poem by David Harris
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Pretending

(by jerry lynn williams)
How many times must we tell the tale?
How many times must we fall?
Living in lost memory
You just recalled
Working on the sound of the band
Trying to get the music right
Two go out working
Three stay home at night
Thats when she said she was pretending
Like she knew the plan
Thats when I knew she was pretending
Pretending to understand
Pretending, pretending
Pretending, pretending
Satisfied but lost in love
Situations change
Youre never who you used to think you are
How strange
Chorus
I get lost in alibis
Sadness cant prevail
Everybody knows strong love
Cant fail
Dont be pretending about how you feel
Dont be pretending that your love is real
Dont be pretending about how you feel
Dont be pretending that your love is real
Pretending, pretending
Pretending, pretending

song performed by Eric Clapton
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Freetrade Rabbit Pie

Ses Cullen, the cockie, he ses to me:
'Now, I puts it to you in this way:
If a feller....(Woah, Ginger! Come over, yeh cow!)....
If a feller sets out fer to say
Where he happens to stand in this politics game,
And to reason the why and the how,
He has got to have somethink to back up the same,
As the sayin' is....(Woah there, yeh cow!)

Ses Cullen, the cockie, e ses to me:
'Well, I reasons it out fer yeh so:
There's this 'ere Pertection an' this 'ere....(Woah Nell!
Come over there, Ginger! Way! Woah!)....
There's this 'ere Pertection an' this 'ere Freetrade,
Which I never 'ave quite understood,
Till I figures it out be the blunders I made
While I scratched fer me own livelihood.

'When first I took up me selection out 'ere
I was votin' Freetrade pretty strong!
An' to live on the cheap was me centril idear,
An' I couldn't see anythink wrong
With livin' on rabbits, fer rabbits was cheap,
As you'll probably quite understand,
Fer, back in that time we was breedin' a heap
On me own, an' the neighborin' land.

'There wus Sanderson had the next selection to me;
He bred mostly rabbits an' debts;
An' Jones, an' McPherson, an' Sandy McGee
Had heaps of the dear little pets.
So I figgers ut out to meself, an' I owns
That this puttin' up fences is rot;
I'd be wantin' the rabbits of Sandy an' Jones
When I'd et up me own little lot.

'So I cleared off a bit an' I sowed down me grass,
An' I lived upon rabbits an' duff,
Which was cheap, you'll allow, but as months came to pass,
I was just about gettin' enough.
I was pinin' fer change, so I reckoned I'd breed
Some sheep an' a bullock or two;
But them dash Freetrade rabbits kep' eatin' the feed
Just as fast as the bloomin' stuff grew!

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poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Milkcow Calf Blues

(Robert Johnson)
Tell me, milk cow, what on earth is wrong with you?
Tell me, milk cow, what on earth is wrong with you?
Well, well, you have a new calf, hoo hoo, and your milk is turnin' blue
Your calf is hungry, and I believe he needs a suck
[Spoken:] Now, you know that calf done got hungry
Your calf is hungry, and I believe he needs a suck
Well, now, but the milk is turnin' blue, hoo hoo, and I believe he's outta luck
Now I feel like milkin' and my, cow won't come
I feel like churnin' it and my, milk won't turn
I'm cryin' plea-hease, please, don't do me wrong
You can give-a right milk and butter, now, baby, you-hoo, will stay at home
My milk cow been ramblin', hoo hoo, for miles around
My milk cow been ramblin', hoo hoo, for miles around
She been troublin' some other bull cow, hoo hoo
Lord, in this man's town

song performed by Eric Clapton
Added by Lucian Velea
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Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist

Whatever is given.
And however that is meant.
Why do many get upset,
When they receive exactly...
What to them has been sent!

Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist

Why is it believed,
By some.
What they do that has been done,
Is okay?
And an acceptance of it,
Should be kept that way.

Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist

Too many people are the 'cause'.
And not the solution to prevent.
Or a pause that should be long taken,
With no attention given spent.

Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist

Some have established themselves as 'saints'.
While others full of themselves,
Do not have to eliminate a single thing...
To emanate fumes from them that 'stink'.
And/or past tense from them that 'stank'!
Whatever is the preference.

Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist

With their quick judgements to pass.
Like fresh air blocking gas.
A picture alone,
Paints a thousand words.

Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist

Whatever is given.
And however that is meant.
Why do many get upset,
When they receive exactly...
What to them has been sent!
As intended upon the return ot it.

Days to Dazzle In Pretensions No Longer Exist

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Two cows deconstruct Derrida

These two cows were ruminating
and one says, I was listening
to the milkmaid’s transistor

and this French philosopher
was explaining that there’s
no English translation of the French word
‘betise’ except ‘stupidity’ but

‘stupidity’ only refers to man
where the French ‘betise’ means
to behave like an animal…

and the other cow says
well what’s wrong with that

and the first cow says
well his point is, English cows
can’t be stupid; only man
can be stupid..

and the other cow says
well that’s a relief then
so does that mean that French cows
can be stupid

and the first cow says
no because they don’t have a word for it
in French

so the other cow says
so then is it better to be
an English cow
that can’t be stupid
or a French cow
that can’t be called stupid

and the first cow says
who cares, I’ve always said
the French ruminate too much
and then talk bullshit…

and the other cow says
I’m glad I’m a Jersey

what about that French milkmaid
I call sexyhands but
the farmer sometimes calls
a silly cow I wonder what
Derrida would say about that

poem by Michael Shepherd
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The Great Man Who Ate Cow Dung All His Life (secretly)

everyday
he feeds himself
with cow dung
but this is done
discreetly
for who in this
normal world
would like
to satisfy
himself with
dung
who in this
society would
love a man
who eats and
smells like
cow dung?

of course, he
feared
that soon if
society knows
he shall be
another ostracized
ostrich
electrically fenced
and monitored
and segregated
at Ward 8
for social
rehabilitation

he didn't like dung
reason and logic
so tell him well
but he couldn't resist
the smell of dung
even if it is kilometers
away
there is simply this
obsession for
cow dung
and he begins
to salivate even
for the word
dung

and for so many nights
he prayed
that his mind-set be

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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I remember, I remember - Past and Present after Thomas Hood and William Wordsworth - Lucy

I remember, I remember
the house where I was born
before foreclosure took away
the homestead I had sworn
in good faith, all attest 'tis true,
to leave grandchildren three: -
times change, leave little rest, I rue
that difference to me!

It seems so very long ago
the liberating Yanks
found welcome everywhere they'd go -
though some were pita swanks,
but since the Shah announced 'I ran'
our bearings all at sea
became - time reeled again would ban
all difference for me!

I remember, I remember
the sun porch, now in pawn,
proud flag a flying red, white, blue,
which now hangs so forlorn
Sun, moon spun round each priceless day,
or so I seemed to see,
four bucks a gallon gas I pay -
what difference to me!

My mind thought then nostalgic ease
eternally could last,
all my desires, priorities
seemed sated very fast,
The fever on my brow shoots higher
now Sheiks of Araby,
up ante for crude imports, tire -
what difference to me!

I remember, I remember
before Alaskan oil
had spilled upon once pristine shore,
polluting fauna, soil.
With climate change I'm feeling sore,
note each commodity
continues rising more and more -
what difference to me!

Back then I'd travel aimlessly,
cared not I ran Iraq,
from dawn till dark, from sea to sea
could, rising with the lark,
ignore the cost of gasoline

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Martyr of Bovinia

She milked the cow; and all the morn was hushed
(It was a beast that never kicked or rushed)
The startled dicky-birds of early Spring
Sat up amazed to mark this splendid thing,
Nigh fainting with delight upon the bough . . . .
She milked the cow.

She milked the cow; nor all the glory rare
Of that October morning could compare
With that sweet sylvan scene; the grace, the charm
The rhythmic movement of her dimpled arm,
Would make a poor bloke feel just anyhow . . . .
She milked the cow.

She milked the cow. 'Twas at South Sassafras
(Which is a cruel word to rhyme,alas)
And all who gazed thereon decalred, with force,
It was sublime - except the cow, of course
Who wore a patient frown upn her brow . . . .
She milked the cow.

She milked the cow - at least, she said she did.
There was the milk in proof; and God forbid
That I should doubt the statement in the least,
(I sympathised in private with the beast
Who said - but still, what does it matter now?)
She milked the cow.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Added by Poetry Lover
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Pretending

Love is a flame that can't be tamed
And though we are its willing prey, my darling
We are not the ones to blame
Trust is a word all lovers know
The glorious art of staining souls, my darling
We are not the ones to blame
The more we have the more we want
And the more it hurts our hearts, my baby
It always ends up in tears
So keep on pretending
Our heaven is worth the waiting
Keep on pretending, it's alright
So keep on pretending
It will be the end of our craving
Keep on pretending
It's alright
When doubts arise the game begins
The one we will never win, my baby
It always ends up in tears
So keep on pretending
Our heaven is worth the waiting
Keep on pretending, it's alright
So keep on pretending
It will be the end of our craving
Keep on pretending
It's alright
Come on...
So keep on pretending
Our heaven is worth the waiting
Keep on pretending, it's alright
So keep on pretending
It will be the end of our craving
Keep on pretending
It's alright
Love is a flame that can't be tamed
And though we are its willing prey, my darling
We are not the ones to blame

song performed by H.I.M.
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pretending

Love is a flame that cant be tamed
And though we are its willing prey, my darling
We are not the ones to blame
Trust is a word all lovers know
The glorious art of staining souls, my darling
We are not the ones to blame
The more we have the more we want
And the more it hurts our hearts, my baby
It always ends up in tears
So keep on pretending
Our heaven is worth the waiting
Keep on pretending, its alright
So keep on pretending
It will be the end of our craving
Keep on pretending
Its alright
When doubts arise the game begins
The one we will never win, my baby
It always ends up in tears
So keep on pretending
Our heaven is worth the waiting
Keep on pretending, its alright
So keep on pretending
It will be the end of our craving
Keep on pretending
Its alright
Come on...
So keep on pretending
Our heaven is worth the waiting
Keep on pretending, its alright
So keep on pretending
It will be the end of our craving
Keep on pretending
Its alright
Love is a flame that cant be tamed
And though we are its willing prey, my darling
We are not the ones to blame

song performed by H.i.m. (his Infernal Majesty)
Added by Lucian Velea
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(Angry Poem) Cheap Shot

Cheap shot after cheap shot
Here meet my pet rock
Did I say rock, I met my pet rot
Watch it he bite's
He's not so nice

Cheap shot after cheap shot
Here meet my pet rock
Did I say rock, I met my pet rot
Watch it he bite's
He's not so nice

You think your better them me
Then be instead of dwindling on it
Like it's my fault
Claim to be alone
And then you get stoned
And you wonder why

Cheap shot after cheap shot
Here meet my pet rock
Did I say rock, I met my pet rot
Watch it he bite's

You think your better them me
Then be instead of dwindling on it
Like it's my fault
Claim to be alone
And then you get stoned
And you wonder why

If I was to surmise
I would say your looking for another prize

Cheap shot after cheap shot
Here meet my pet rock
Did I say rock I met my pet rot
Watch it he bite's
He's not so nice

You think your better them me
Then be instead of dwindling on it
Like it's my fault
Claim to be alone
And then you get stoned
And you wonder why

Cheap shot after cheap shot
Here meet my pet rock
Did I say rock, I met my pet rot

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Added by Poetry Lover
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