Citatepedia^®.com

Paying Taxes

Done-with-a-minimum.
Donewithaminimum.
Done -with-a-minimum.
Donewithaminimum.

The rich pay...
Donewithaminimum, donewithaminimum, donewithaminimum.
And some say...
With lifestyles out of reach.

They've got 'moolay'...
Donewithaminimum, donewithaminimum, donewithaminimum.
And you and I will not be relieved from paying taxes.

The rich pay...
Donewithaminimum, donewithaminimum, donewithaminimum.
And some say...
With lifestyles out of reach.

They've got 'moolay'...
Donewithaminimum, donewithaminimum, donewithaminimum.
And you and I will not be relieved from paying taxes.

The money,
The rich have...
Flows nonstop!
Pootoo-poo-too-too-toot!
Pootoo-poo-too-too-toot!

The money,
The rich have...
Many aint got!
Pootoo-poo-too-too-toot!
Pootoo-poo-too-too-toot!

And those poor have paved the way,
For the snobs and snots.
It's clear who are the 'haves' and those 'have nots'.

Oh...
Done-with-a-minimum.
Do newithaminimum.
Done-with-a-minimum.
Donewi thaminimum.

The rich pay...
Donewithaminimum, donewithaminimum, donewithaminimum.
And some say...
With lifestyles out of reach.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Make Me Rich

Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy.

Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)

'Horns and tambourines'

Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)

'Congas'

Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)

' And to the bridge'

Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Taxed

Taxed in our groceries and taxed in our pay
The taxman keeps taking from us every day
But of heavy taxes the bureaucrats he spare
Tax every battler not the billionaire.

Who says that everything in life is fair
The wealthy of tax never pay their fair share
The wealthy getting wealthier with advantage on their side
And the gap getting wider in the social divide.

More taxes on petrol and more taxes on beer
Of taxes and more taxes is all that we hear
Taxed in our electricity bills and taxed by our bank
For some of our poverty the tax man we can thank.

Taxes even on the water that we drink
Soon they will tax us on the thoughts we think
We are burdened by taxes it does seem to me
And it's thanks to the tax man for our poverty.

poem by Francis Duggan
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

On My Futon

My futon...
Go ahead and lay your head on it.
Go ahead and rest a bit.
You'll get a benefit of this.

My futon...
Go ahead and lay your head on it.
Go ahead and rest a bit.
You'll feel a benefit of this.

Get off your feet,
On my futon.
Get some sleep,
On my futon.
Be at peace,
On my futon...
That peace you need to keep!

Get off your feet,
On my futon.
Get some sleep,
On my futon.
Be at peace,
On my futon...
That peace you need to keep!

My futon...
Go ahead and lay your head on it.
Go ahead and rest up a bit.
And,
You will feel relieved!

On my futon...
Go ahead and lay your head on it.
Go ahead and rest up a bit.
And,
You will feel relieved!

Get off your feet,
On my futon.
Get some sleep,
On my futon.
Be at peace,
On my futon...
That peace you need to keep!

On my futon...
Go ahead and lay your head on it.
Go ahead and rest up a bit.
And,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

No Money Down

I know youre disappointed
In the way I handled things
Youre thinking I misread the times
And acted cowardly
And since what I do affects us both
And you feel that I let you down
Youre paying a price when there is no price to pay
Lovers trust, no money down
Youre paying a price when there is no price to pay
Lovers trust, no money down
(hey! lover)
(hey! lover)
(lover)
They say theres someone for everyone
And for everyone a someone
And some tattoo roses across their chests
With a heart that says rollo
And some work without a public relations man
And do their best work, baby, out of sight
Youre paying a price when there is no price to pay
Lovers trust, no money down
Youre paying a price when there is no price to pay
Lovers trust, no money down
(hey! lover)
(hey! lover)
(lover)
Now I have known a hero or two
And they all learn to swim through mud
And they all got boots caked with dirty soles
That they get from squashing bugs
So when push comes to shove get the harley revved up
The moon can eclipse even the sun
Youre paying a price when there is no price to pay
Lovers trust, no money down
Youre paying a price when there is no price to pay
Lovers trust, no money down
Lovers trust, no money down (hey! lover)
Yes, lovers trust, no money down (hey! lover)
Lovers trust, no money down (hey! hey! lover)
Lovers trust, no money down (hey! hey! lover)
(hey! hey! lover)
(hey! hey! lover)
...

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Let me respond with a few points, the first being that all immigrants pay taxes, income taxes, property taxes, sales taxes, gasoline taxes, cigarette taxes, every tax when they make a purchase.

quote by Luis Gutierrez
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

I Cant Reach You

Im a million ages past you
Im a million ages past you
A million years behind you too
A million years behind you too
A thousand miles up in the air
A thousand miles up in the air
A trillion times Ive seen you there
A trillion times Ive seen you there
Your hair is golden, mine is grey
Your hair is golden, mine is grey
You walk on grass, it turns to hay
You walk on grass, it turns to hay
You blood is blue and mine is red
You blood is blue and mine is red
My body strains, but the nerves are dead
My body strains, but the nerves are dead
I cant reach you
I cant reach you
Ive strained my eyes
Ive strained my eyes
I cant reach you
I cant reach you
Ive split my sides
Ive split my sides
I cant reach
I cant reach
Tryin to get on you
Tryin to get on you
See, feel or hear from you
See, feel or hear from you
The distances grow greater now
The distances grow greater now
You drink champagne and past me plow
You drink champagne and past me plow
You fly your plane right over my head
You fly your plane right over my head
Youre still alive and Im nearly dead
Youre still alive and Im nearly dead
I cant reach you
I cant reach you
With arms outstretched
With arms outstretched
I cant reach you
I cant reach you
I crane my neck
I crane my neck
I cant reach
I cant reach
Tryin to get on you
Tryin to get on you

[...] Read more

song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Wages Of Sin

When we fight and I wanna talk it out
You wont say nothing, nothing at all
You just sit there, you wont open that pretty mouth
I think you like keeping my back up against the wall
Wages of sin, you keep me paying
Wages of sin for wrongs that Ive done
Wages of sin, you keep me paying
Wages of sin, one by one
I walk in the apartment, theres clothes thrown all over the place
Youre crouched in the corner with makeup running down your face
I dont wanna believe what my heart keeps saying
You keep me on the line so you can keep me paying
Wages of sin, we keep paying
Wages of sin for the wrongs that weve done
Wages of sin, we keep paying
Wages of sin, thats how we have our fun
I remember when I was a little boy out where the cottonwoods grow tall
Trying to make it home through the forest before the darkness falls
Baby all the sounds I heard, even if they werent real
I was running down that broken path with the devil snapping at my heels
I tried so hard, so hard in every way
Swore someday Id grow up, just throw it all away
Cried all the tears, baby, that I could cry
Stomached all my fears till they came rushin up inside
Darlin Im losin and its a mean game
Still I play on and on just the same
Wages of sin, I keep paying
Wages of sin for some wrong that Ive done
Wages of sin, well I keep paying
Wages of sin, one by one

song performed by Bruce Springsteen
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Ladies Pay

All the sailors theyre all home from leave
And everybodys waiting for them to try to deceive
The storekeepers have drawn their lace curtains bare
And all the women and the wee young girls all waiting there
Oh, but how the ladies pay
Oh, if they only knew how the ladies pay
Yeah now, how the ladies pay
Oh, when the men theyve gone away
Nobody is standing on upon the door
And nobody is feeding any of the poor
The poor sick soldier lies in bed beside his girl
Thinking of another place on the other side of the world
Ah
How the ladies pay
Oh-oh, oh, how the ladies pay
When the men theyve gone away
Oh, I wish I knew how the ladies pay
Day and night, night and day
How the ladies pay
Day and night, night and day
How the ladies pay
Day and night
Night and day
Day and night
Day and night, night and day, ladies pay now
Night and day, day and night
How the ladies pay
Day and night, night and day
How the ladies pay
Day and night now
Night and day and now
How the pay now
Oh, how the pay now
Ladies pay, ladies pay
Ah, ladies pay the way now
Ladies pay, ah, ladies pay
Ah, ladies pay
Night and day, night and day, night and day
Oh, how the ladies pay
Oh, night and day, night and day, night and day
Oh, how the ladies pay

song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Ballad of Army Pay

In general, if you want a man to do a dangerous

job : —
Say, swim the Channel, climb St. Paul's, or break

into and rob
The Bank of England, why, you find his wages

must be higher
Than if you merely wanted him to Fight the kitchen

fire.
But in the British Army, it's just the other

way.
And the maximum of danger means the minimum

of pay.

You put some men inside a trench, and call them

infantrie,
And make them face ten kinds of hell, and face it

cheerfully ;
And hve in holes Uke rats, with other rats, and

hce, and toads,
And in their leisure time, assist the R.E.'s with

their loads.
Then, when they've done it all, you give 'em each

a bob a day !
For the maximum of danger means the minimum

of pay.

40

We won't run down the A.S.C., nor yet the

R.T.O.
They ration and direct us on the way we've got

to go.

[...] Read more

poem by Frederick William Harvey
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

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
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

V. Count Guido Franceschini

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

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Candidate

This poem was written in , on occasion of the contest between the
Earls of Hardwicke and Sandwich for the High-stewardship of the
University of Cambridge, vacant by the death of the Lord Chancellor
Hardwicke. The spirit of party ran high in the University, and no
means were left untried by either candidate to obtain a majority. The
election was fixed for the th of March, when, after much
altercation, the votes appearing equal, a scrutiny was demanded;
whereupon the Vice-Chancellor adjourned the senate _sine die_. On
appeal to the Lord High-Chancellor, he determined in favour of the
Earl of Hardwicke, and a mandamus issued accordingly.

Enough of Actors--let them play the player,
And, free from censure, fret, sweat, strut, and stare;
Garrick abroad, what motives can engage
To waste one couplet on a barren stage?
Ungrateful Garrick! when these tasty days,
In justice to themselves, allow'd thee praise;
When, at thy bidding, Sense, for twenty years,
Indulged in laughter, or dissolved in tears;
When in return for labour, time, and health,
The town had given some little share of wealth,
Couldst thou repine at being still a slave?
Darest thou presume to enjoy that wealth she gave?
Couldst thou repine at laws ordain'd by those
Whom nothing but thy merit made thy foes?
Whom, too refined for honesty and trade,
By need made tradesmen, Pride had bankrupts made;
Whom Fear made drunkards, and, by modern rules,
Whom Drink made wits, though Nature made them fools;
With such, beyond all pardon is thy crime,
In such a manner, and at such a time,
To quit the stage; but men of real sense,
Who neither lightly give, nor take offence,
Shall own thee clear, or pass an act of grace,
Since thou hast left a Powell in thy place.
Enough of Authors--why, when scribblers fail,
Must other scribblers spread the hateful tale?
Why must they pity, why contempt express,
And why insult a brother in distress?
Let those, who boast the uncommon gift of brains
The laurel pluck, and wear it for their pains;
Fresh on their brows for ages let it bloom,
And, ages past, still flourish round their tomb.
Let those who without genius write, and write,
Versemen or prosemen, all in Nature's spite,
The pen laid down, their course of folly run
In peace, unread, unmention'd, be undone.
Why should I tell, to cross the will of Fate,
That Francis once endeavour'd to translate?
Why, sweet oblivion winding round his head,

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Churchill
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi

Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

David

My thought, on views of admiration hung,
Intently ravish'd and depriv'd of tongue,
Now darts a while on earth, a while in air,
Here mov'd with praise and mov'd with glory there;
The joys entrancing and the mute surprize
Half fix the blood, and dim the moist'ning eyes;
Pleasure and praise on one another break,
And Exclamation longs at heart to speak;
When thus my Genius, on the work design'd
Awaiting closely, guides the wand'ring mind.

If while thy thanks wou'd in thy lays be wrought,
A bright astonishment involve the thought,
If yet thy temper wou'd attempt to sing,
Another's quill shall imp thy feebler wing;
Behold the name of royal David near,
Behold his musick and his measures here,
Whose harp Devotion in a rapture strung,
And left no state of pious souls unsung.

Him to the wond'ring world but newly shewn,
Celestial poetry pronounc'd her own;
A thousand hopes, on clouds adorn'd with rays,
Bent down their little beauteous forms to gaze;
Fair-blooming Innocence with tender years,
And native Sweetness for the ravish'd ears,
Prepar'd to smile within his early song,
And brought their rivers, groves, and plains along;
Majestick Honour at the palace bred,
Enrob'd in white, embroider'd o'er with red,
Reach'd forth the scepter of her royal state,
His forehead touch'd, and bid his lays be great;
Undaunted Courage deck'd with manly charms,
With waving-azure plumes, and gilded arms,
Displaid the glories, and the toils of fight,
Demanded fame, and call'd him forth to write.
To perfect these the sacred spirit came,
By mild infusion of celestial flame,
And mov'd with dove-like candour in his breast,
And breath'd his graces over all the rest.
Ah! where the daring flights of men aspire
To match his numbers with an equal fire;
In vain they strive to make proud Babel rise,
And with an earth-born labour touch the skies.
While I the glitt'ring page resolve to view,
That will the subject of my lines renew;
The Laurel wreath, my fames imagin'd shade,
Around my beating temples fears to fade;
My fainting fancy trembles on the brink,
And David's God must help or else I sink.

[...] Read more

poem by Thomas Parnell
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Luxurious

Working so hard, every night and day
And now we get the pay back
Trying so hard, saving up the paper
Now we get to lay back
Working so hard, every night and day
And now we get the pay back, the pay back, the pay back
Champagne kisses, hold me in your lap of luxury
I only want to fly first-class desires, you're my limousine
So elegant, the way we ride, our passion, it just multiplies
There's platinum lightning in the sky
Look I'm livin' like a queen
This kind of love is getting expensive
We know how to live, baby
We're luxurious, like Egyptian cotton
We're so rich in love, we're rollin' in cashmere
Got it in fifth gear, baby
Diamond in the rough is lookin' so sparkly
Working so hard, every night and day
And now we get the pay back
Trying so hard, saving up the paper
Now we get to lay back
Working so hard, every night and day
And now we get the pay back, the pay back, the pay back
Sugar, honey, sexy baby
When we touch it turns to gold
Sensitive and delicate, kinda like a tuberose
You know you are my treasure chest
It's pure perfection when we kiss and
You're my Mr., I'm your Miss
Gonna be until we're old
This kind of love is getting expensive
We know how to live, baby
We're luxurious, like Egyptian cotton
Working so hard, every night and day
And now we get the pay back
Trying so hard, saving up the paper
Now we get to lay back
Working so hard, every night and day
And now we get the pay back, the pay back, the pay back
[2x]
Cha-ching, cha-ching, we're loaded and we're not gonna blow it
Cha-ching, cha-ching, we're hooked up with the love cause we grow it
Cha-ching, cha-ching, we got hydroponic love and we're smokin'
Cha-ching, cha-ching, we burn it, you and I, we are so lit
And we're so rich in love, we're rollin' in cashmere
Got it in fifth gear, baby
Diamond in the rough is lookin' so sparkly
Working so hard, every night and day
And now we get the pay back
Trying so hard, saving up the paper

[...] Read more

song performed by Gwen Stefani
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Struggle

The struggle.
Just to keep warm.
The back breaking work.
Just to keep a roof over my head.
The minimum wage slave.
Or get locked in a cage.
With choices so grim.
Sometimes one must think outside the box.

A trade illegal by any other means.
But when comes to necessities.
It goes right out the window.
With the knowledge and know how.
We would all do something of which we shouldn't be proud.
What the courts say isn't what you believe.
With money it can be bought, but your conscience can not.
Guilt never goes away, it just sits their an rots.
Becomes a poisonous apple inside you.

The struggle.
Just to keep warm.
The back breaking work.
Just to keep a roof over my head.
The minimum wage slave.
Or get locked in a cage.
With choices so grim.
Sometimes one must think outside the box.

Talents so few.
Desires dwindling.
The candle melts away.
Their is a time limit.
Have I reach it yet?
I just don't know.
How could one?
I have no crystal ball.
I have no magic cauldron.
I have no special recipe.
I'm no Einstein.
He believed time viewing was theoretically possible.
I believe of the past most certainly.
But of the future I just don't know.

The struggle.
Just to keep warm.
The back breaking work.
Just to keep a roof over my head.
The minimum wage slave.
Or get locked in a cage.
With choices so grim.

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Price You Pay

(bruce springsteen)
You make up your mind, you choose the chance you take
You ride to where the highway ends and the desert breaks
Out on through an open road you ride until the day
You learn to sleep at night with the price you pay
Now with their hands held high, they reached out for the open skies
And then with their last breath
They built the roads they would ride to their deaths
Driving on through the night unable to break away
>from the restless pull of the price you pay
Oh, the price you pay, oh, the price you pay
Now you cant walk away from the price you pay
Now theyve come so far and theyve waited so long
Just to end up caught in a dream where everything goes wrong
Where the dark of night holds back the light of the day
And you gotta stand and fight for the price you pay
Oh, the price you pay, oh, the price you pay
Now you cant walk away from the price you pay
Little girl down on the strand
With that pretty little baby in your hands
Do you remember the story of the promised land
How he crossed the desert sands
And could not enter the chosen land
On the banks of the river he stayed
To face the price you pay
So let the games start
You better run you little wild heart
You can run through all the nights and all the days
But just across the county line
A stranger passin through put up a sign
That counts so many fallen away
To the price you pay,
Oh, the price you pay, oh, the price you pay
Now you cant walk away from the price you pay
Oh, the price you pay, oh, the price you pay
Now you cant walk away from the price you pay

song performed by Emmylou Harris
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Leon McDuff

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury
I come before you to plead for the life of Leon McDuff
Ladies and gentlemen on the jury
I asking you to be the judge of when enough is enough
Now Leon McDuff has worked on his daddys farm everyday since the day that he was born
Plowing in the fields and hoeing in the garden and helping pick the cotton and the corn
Then came the time of the Mississippi floods and all of his work went down the drain
The land was parched by the sun and blown by the wind and finally washed away by the rain
So he went to his friends to get some help from them but their crops and their money was all gone
So he went to the bank to mortgage his home but the bank wouldnt give Leon a loan
He could not decide how his family would survive with no crops and no money to buy food
And as he struggled with his hands to rework his land the notice came that said his land tax was due
Chorus
Now in an air-conditioned office on the other side of town sat a government official with a frown
Cause hed been trying for so long to find land to build a summer home but cheap river land could not be found
Then in the middle of his gloom his boss walked in the room and said Ive got some real good news for the house youve planned
Theres a farmer whos so poor and whos luck has run so sour that he can not pay the taxes on his land
So just you wait a week or two til the moneys over due then go to the cashier down the hall
With his deed in your hand pay the taxes on the land have the sheriff give Leon McDuff a call
Have him tell Leon to move by the last day of July because the taxes on his land are overdue
Tell him he has to move away cause the taxes were not paid then all his river land belongs to you
Chorus
Now in that air-conditioned office in about a week or two came the sheriff saying Ive got some bad news
That Leon McDuff says hes had some bad luck and hell try to get the money but he aint agonna move
That official he jumped up and grabbed the sheriff by the arm he said were going down to take that land today
So he and the sheriff drove down to Leons farm to tell the McDuffs to move away
There stood Leon on his land with a shotgun in his hand, his eyes narrowed neath the brim of his hat
He said Ive worked hard on this land as a boy and as a man I aint gonna lose it to no god damned bureaucrat.?
Well that bureaucrat got mad and grabbed the gun in Leons hand and in the struggle an explosion cracked the air
And when the smoke and dust had cleared and the ringing left their ears, the sheriff lay a dying on the ground
Chorus
Now on this table I will lay, this gun Exhibit A? with two sets of fingerprints as you can see
But other hands were here unperceived by eye or ear that helped trigger off this awful tragedy
Now to me its still unclear just what really caused the problem here
Theres much too much weve got to know before we know enough
So we cant find out today where all the guilt should lay but it shouldnt be on Leon McDuff
Chorus

song performed by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Golden Age

Long ere the Muse the strenuous chords had swept,
And the first lay as yet in silence slept,
A Time there was which since has stirred the lyre
To notes of wail and accents warm with fire;
Moved the soft Mantuan to his silvery strain,
And him who sobbed in pentametric pain;
To which the World, waxed desolate and old,
Fondly reverts, and calls the Age of Gold.

Then, without toil, by vale and mountain side,
Men found their few and simple wants supplied;
Plenty, like dew, dropped subtle from the air,
And Earth's fair gifts rose prodigal as prayer.
Love, with no charms except its own to lure,
Was swiftly answered by a love as pure.
No need for wealth; each glittering fruit and flower,
Each star, each streamlet, made the maiden's dower.
Far in the future lurked maternal throes,
And children blossomed painless as the rose.
No harrowing question `why,' no torturing `how,'
Bent the lithe frame or knit the youthful brow.
The growing mind had naught to seek or shun;
Like the plump fig it ripened in the sun.
From dawn to dark Man's life was steeped in joy,
And the gray sire was happy as the boy.
Nature with Man yet waged no troublous strife,
And Death was almost easier than Life.
Safe on its native mountains throve the oak,
Nor ever groaned 'neath greed's relentless stroke.
No fear of loss, no restlessness for more,
Drove the poor mariner from shore to shore.
No distant mines, by penury divined,
Made him the sport of fickle wave or wind.
Rich for secure, he checked each wish to roam,
And hugged the safe felicity of home.

Those days are long gone by; but who shall say
Why, like a dream, passed Saturn's Reign away?
Over its rise, its ruin, hangs a veil,
And naught remains except a Golden Tale.
Whether 'twas sin or hazard that dissolved
That happy scheme by kindly Gods evolved;
Whether Man fell by lucklessness or pride,-
Let jarring sects, and not the Muse, decide.
But when that cruel Fiat smote the earth,
Primeval Joy was poisoned at its birth.
In sorrow stole the infant from the womb,
The agëd crept in sorrow to the tomb.
The ground, so bounteous once, refused to bear
More than was wrung by sower, seed, and share.

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Austin
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Venus and Adonis

'Vilia miretur vulgus; mihi flavus Apollo
Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua.'

To the right honorable Henry Wriothesly, Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Tichfield.
Right honorable.

I know not how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished lines to your lordship, nor how the world will censure me for choosing so strong a prop to support so weak a burden only, if your honour seem but pleased, I account myself highly praised, and vow to take advantage of all idle hours, till I have honoured you with some graver labour. But if the first heir of my invention prove deformed, I shall be sorry it had so noble a god-father, and never after ear so barren a land, for fear it yield me still so bad a harvest. I leave it to your honourable survey, and your honour to your heart's content; which I wish may always answer your own wish and the world's hopeful expectation.

Your honour's in all duty.

Even as the sun with purple-colour'd face
Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,
Rose-cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase;
Hunting he loved, but love he laugh'd to scorn;
Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,
And like a bold-faced suitor 'gins to woo him.
'Thrice-fairer than myself,' thus she began,
'The field's chief flower, sweet above compare,
Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man,
More white and red than doves or roses are;
Nature that made thee, with herself at strife,
Saith that the world hath ending with thy life.
'Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed,
And rein his proud head to the saddle-bow;
If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed
A thousand honey secrets shalt thou know:
Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses,
And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses;
'And yet not cloy thy lips with loathed satiety,
But rather famish them amid their plenty,
Making them red and pale with fresh variety,
Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty:
A summer's day will seem an hour but short,
Being wasted in such time-beguiling sport.'
With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
The precedent of pith and livelihood,
And trembling in her passion, calls it balm,
Earth's sovereign salve to do a goddess good:
Being so enraged, desire doth lend her force
Courageously to pluck him from his horse.
Over one arm the lusty courser's rein,
Under her other was the tender boy,
Who blush'd and pouted in a dull disdain,
With leaden appetite, unapt to toy;
She red and hot as coals of glowing fire,
He red for shame, but frosty in desire.
The studded bridle on a ragged bough
Nimbly she fastens:--O, how quick is love!--
The steed is stalled up, and even now
To tie the rider she begins to prove:

[...] Read more

poem by William Shakespeare
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!