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Rummage

Being real, true, peaceful
Showing you care
May cause others to think it...
Dare.
People Carrie baggage from their past.
Clogging up the sift'er
In a new relationship.
An 'all-in' sharing is at hand
On an honest tip
You can be real and hip.
If one hole in the sift'er
Is clog
The new relationship
Headed for the fog
Your baggage may cause
Hearing problems...or
Second guesting
Beware of that.
'No holds barred'
In earnest of a new relationship
Sure there maybe some...
Swelling of the past
But remember it was that,
That wasn't honest,
That did not last.
So lose the baggage
Free your hind part
An 'all-in' sharing must be
One objective.
You can do it...
And still be be protective.
P.S. you lose more by
Being honest and that
Which is left...
IS for you.
whisperkwane

poem by whisperkwane Lamb
Added by Poetry Lover
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Blue Skinned Beast

I can fly you to your loved ones but I can promise no return
To a shell-shocked God forsaken where their craters still they burn
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
Still the worst is over that I hope you understand
The youre one more hurdle over our protector of the land
Have a drink on me
I put it down to the company
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Here you have this medal you can even melt it down
Or frame it in the living room every time you turn around
Have a drink on me
Have a drink on me
I heard you shout for yesterday, but I was sleeping on the job
And I dreamt of fighters miles away whose lives I had to rob
Have a drink on me
I put it down to the company
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Here you have this medal you can even melt it down
Or frame it in the living room every time you turn around
I can fly your loved ones to you
With guarantee of no return
And if john waynes dummys bounce off
Dont look shocked when it comes your turn
Have a drink on me
I put it down to company
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Hip hip !
Hip hip !
Hip hip hip hip !
Hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Hip hip hip hip !
Hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !
Three cheers to the blue skinned beast hip hip hip hip !
To the blue skinned beast hip hip !

song performed by Madness
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hip Hop It Really Rocks

Botched up and rocked by hip hop...
That has drowned out all the pop,
People 'use' to love a lot.
Although almost on top is hip hop...
Like it or not,
It is part of culture.
And hip hop can't be stopped!

Pop...
Botched up and rocked by hip hop,
Is no longer the main 'thing' on the scene.
With a meaning meant,
Like the appetite for Fort Knox.
And pop now in shambles.
Struggling not to be completely dropped.

Hip hip hip hip hip-hop,
Is in a glorifying role.
Hip hip hip hip hip-hop,
Is in a glorifying role.
Hip-hip-hip-hip is hot,
And in a glorifying role.
Hip-hop it knows it really rocks.
And in a glorfying role.

Botched up and rocked by hip hop...
That has drowned out all the pop,
People 'use' to love a lot.
Although almost on top is hip hop...
Like it or not,
It is part of culture.
And hip hop can't be stopped!

Hip hip hip hip hip-hop,
Is in a glorifying role.
Hip hip hip hip hip-hop,
Is in a glorifying role.
Hip-hip-hip-hip is hot,
And in a glorifying role.
Hip-hop it knows it really rocks.
And in a glorfying role.

Hip hip hip hip hip-hop,
Is in a glorifying role.
Hip hip hip hip hip-hop,
Is in a glorifying role.
Hip-hip-hip-hip is hot,
And in a glorifying role.
Hip-hop it knows it really rocks.
And in a glorfying role.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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High Crimes & Misdemeanors

Written by dennis deyoung
Lead vocals by dennis deyoung
They want you to believe
The unbelievable
They say you should accept
The unacceptable
Forget your common sense
It isnt sensible
Good times for fools and dreamers
Watch em all deny
The undeniable
See how they refute
The unrefutable
Theyre ready to defend
The indefensible
High times for lawyer schemers
They say we must forgive
The forgivable
They want us to respect
The unrespectable
The pious and the hip
So hypocritical
High crimes and misdemeanors
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
See how they explain
The inexplicable
Watch em debate
The undebatable
Apparently a lie
Is never liable
Prime time for talk show screamers
They say we constitute
The constitutional
With justice here for all
So justifiable
Im tryin not to laugh
But man its laughable
High crimes and misdemeanors
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
And so
Today we find
Theyve changed their minds
Theyve switched their points of view
Oh what tangled webs they weave

[...] Read more

song performed by Styx
Added by Lucian Velea
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High Crimes & Misdemeanors (Hip Hop-Crazy)

Written by Dennis DeYoung
Lead Vocals by Dennis DeYoung
They want you to believe
The unbelievable
They say you should accept
The unacceptable
Forget your common sense
It isn't sensible
Good times for fools and dreamers
Watch 'em all deny
The undeniable
See how they refute
The unrefutable
They're ready to defend
The indefensible
High times for lawyer schemers
They say we must forgive
The forgivable
They want us to respect
The unrespectable
The pious and the hip
So hypocritical
High crimes and misdemeanors
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
See how they explain
The inexplicable
Watch 'em debate
The undebatable
Apparently a lie
Is never liable
Prime time for talk show screamers
They say we constitute
The Constitutional
With justice here for all
So justifiable
I'm tryin' not to laugh
But man it's laughable
High crimes and misdemeanors
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
Hip hop hip hop-cracy hip hop
And so
Today we find
They've changed their minds
They've switched their points of view
Oh what tangled webs they weave

[...] Read more

song performed by Styx
Added by Lucian Velea
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Coast 2 Coast

I met a girl named hip hop in seventy eight
Hollis Queens New York gave us our first date
man she broke me off proper yo the girl was fast
and everybody kept telling me it would not last
cause ain't no women in the world supposed to be that sweet
and ya just can't trust a hot chick from the street
I could tell she had been through lots of struggle and strife
but yet in still she'd been with me over half of my life
born key Jeff Taylor took me into his home
and intrduced me to some tables and a microphone
hip hop talked to me told me take your time
at the age of eleven I bust my first rhyme
block partys in the day house partys at night
just about one year before Rapper's Delight
everybody in the crew called to make a request
cause rap's on the radio and hip-hop was blessed
didn't go to many clubs I wasn't old enough
And if it try to sneak it out my folks is scolding up
but I still do anything to get on stage
and once I got a club gig I lied about my age
just a couple blocks away was the Hollis crew
Run and them used to rock at one ninety two
up the street was a crew called Solo Sounds
where Davey D and Mex used to throw it down
man I wouldn't trade rap for anything in the world
hip hop meant more to me than diamonds and pearls
and I still reminicse to this very day
and I remember those words hip hop would say
(Do you have love for the east coast?)
yes I do
(the hip hop on the east coast?)
yeah that's true
from the 'yes yes y'all' to 'and you don't stop'
east coast played a role in making a hip hop
(Do you have love for the east coast?)
yeah that's right
(the hip hop on the east coast?)
yeah that's tight
from the 'yes yes y'all' to 'and you don't stop'
east coast played a role in making a hip hop
now I gotta get busy time to make that move
high school over with gotta sho' improve
got college on the coast and I'm makin' plans
so hip hip went and told me go west young man
it was a different kind of style but I liked the sound
everybody in the house gauranteed to get down
I did the casa skateland word on wheels
and the crazy crazy world of the record deal
K-day was the station that played my song
I got love from the people it's a shame they gone

[...] Read more

song performed by Young MC
Added by Lucian Velea
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Carrie Ann

The Hollies
Carrie Anne
(Alan Clarke, Tony Hicks & Graham Nash)
Single release 1967
Doo-doo-roo-roo-doot-doot-doo-roo-roo
doo-d-doo-roo-doot-doot-doo-roo-roo
doo-
hey Carrie Anne
hey Carrie Anne
{Allan Clarke vocal:}
When we were at school our games were simple
I played the janitor you played a monitor.
Then you played with older boys and prefects.
What's the attraction in what they're doing?
{All 3 vocal:}
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
{Tony Hicks vocal:}
You're always something special to me.
Quite independent, never caring.
You lost your charm as you were aging
Where is your magic dissappearing?
{All 3 vocal:}
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
{Allan Clarke lead vocal:}
You're so, so like a woman to me
(so like a woman to me)
So (so) so like (so) a woman to me
So like a woman to me.
{interlude}
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
{Graham Nash vocal:}
People live and learn but you're still learning
you use my mind and I'll be your teacher.
When the lesson's over you'll be with me
Then I'll hear the other people saying:
{All 3 vocal:}
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
Hey Carrie Anne, what's your game now
can anybody play?
Carrie Anne (Carrie Anne, Carrie Anne)

song performed by Hollies
Added by Lucian Velea
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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
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VII. Pompilia

I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.

All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.

Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—

[...] Read more

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

I wont take no lies, hanging out all night
The gig is up, enough, its enough
Youre wrong, dead wrong, wont take no more
Cause I see your game and dumb is not my name
Pack your bags, call you a cab
No more laughs
Cause Im not the one that youre gonna play on
Move along, sing a song
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
Got love for you, but I cant stand you
I page you, you wont call
Whats a 2-way for
Strike one, strike two, strike three, no more me
Cause I see the game and dumbs not my name
Pack your bags, call you a cab
No more laughs
Cause Im not the one that youre gonna play on
Move along, sing a song
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
We can do this any way that
You want cause I dont care
Its no problem and Im not the one
Pack your bags, call you a cab
No more laughs
Cause Im not the one that youre gonna play on
Move along, sing a song
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
You give me problems, problems
Too many problems
Dont want no problems, problems
No time to solve them
[over chorus]
Its plain to see, you cant have me

[...] Read more

song performed by Nivea
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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Carrie

One cold and sad affair
take my heart and leave it there
I'm gonna feel this way forever
Never thought that I'd be free
Now your faith is changing me
Carrie Carrie
Now only time will tell
It's a dream I know so well
You always try so hard to please me
Only thing I know for sure
I couldn't love you anymore
Carrie Carrie
Waited so long no one to share (why did you keep me waiting)
Could you belong to someone
Show you care I'll be there
Carrie is it more than a dream this time (more than a dream)
Carrie can I tell everyone you're mine (tell them you're mine)
I will never be the same
And now you made me live again
Carrie is it more than a dream this time
Carrie is it more than a dream this time
My heart is open wide
You know how I feel inside
You see my sad old days are over
Never need to hide away
Gettin' stronger everyday Carrie Carrie
chorus
Carrie can I tell everyone your mine (tell them you're mine)
Carrie is it more than a dream this time ( more than a dream)

song performed by Hollies
Added by Lucian Velea
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So Hip It Hurts

Do you remember when men wore skirts? - so hip!
In kipper ties like jealous flirts - so hip!
In calico and in brocade shirts - so hip it hurts!
Do you remember when girls wore slacks? - so hip!
Traffic stops, men get heart attacks - so hip!
Seems so strange that they took it like that - so hip it hurts!
Hes so hip - so hip it...
Shes so hip - so hip it...
Theyre so hip - so hip it hurts!
So hip it...
Whose the girl with the kinski eyes? - so hot!
They kind of face you could idolise - so what!
The kind of shape that gets advertised - so hip it hurts!
Once it was normal for a girl to curtsey
Ill admit even though it hurts me
Shed squeeze informal until it screams for mercy
So hip it hurts!
Hes so hip - so hip it...
Shes so hip - so hip it...
Theyre so hip - so hip it hurts!
So hip it hurts!
So hip it...
Afro-wigs on albino squares...
Polka-dots on alpaca flares...
Solar powered electric chairs...
So hip it hurts

song performed by Abc
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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Carrie Monro

Air -- "Belle Mahone"

Once there was a lady fair,
With black eyes and curly hair,
She has left this world of care,
Sweet Carrie Monro.

CHORUS:

Sweet Carrie Monro,
Dear Carrie Monro,
And her friends will not forget
Sweet Carrie Monro.

Now those friends miss Carrie here,
For she was loved both far and near,
She has left them all in tears,
Sweet Carrie Monro.

Carrie's age was twenty-three,
A married lady, too, was she --
A mournful parting had to be,
From Carrie Monro.

It's just before her spirit fled
Her husband stood by her bed;
"Prove faithful, birdie, to me," said
Sweet Carrie Monro.

Sad will memory pass o'er
That loved form that is no more --
She's waiting on the other shore,
Loved Carrie Monro.

poem by Julia A Moore
Added by Poetry Lover
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Problems

Feat. coffee brown
Problems
Problems with your girl today
Problems
Problems with your man today
Situations
Hard to handle
Got me going out of my head
Theres so much pressure
I just cant deal
You think its all about
You and that sex appeal
But I got problems
(slickin around on the l to the hotel, all around town)
Let me know
(whos it gonna be, him or me)
It cant be three
Problems
Problems with your girl today
Problems
Problems with your girl today
[coffee brown]
Here we are
The two of us together
Taking this crazy chance
To be all alone
My man dont know
That we been loving each other
Cuz if he found out
Well have nothing
Nothing but
Problems
Problems with your man today
Problems
Problems with your man today
Problems
Problems with your man today
Problems
Problems with your man today
[next]
Said, can I get a witness
So many problems
Can I get a witness
[coffee]
Can I get a witness
So many problems
Can I get a witness
Problems
Problems with your girl today
Problems

[...] Read more

song performed by Next
Added by Lucian Velea
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Problems (feat. Koffee Brown)

Problems
Problems with your girl today
Problems
Problems with your man today
situations hard to handle
got me goin out ofmy head
theres so much pressure
i just cant deal
you think its all about you
and that sex appeal
but i got problems
(slickin around on the "L" to the hotel all around town) let me know
(whos it gonna be him or me)
it cant be three
problems
problems with your girl today
problems
problems with your girl today
here we are
the two of us together
takin this crazy chance
to be all alone
my man dont know
that we been lovin eachother
cuz if he found out
we'll have nothin
nothin but
Problems
problems with your man today
problems
problems with your man today
problems
problems with your man today
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problems with your man today
said can i get a witness
so many problems
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can i get a witness
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problems
problems with your girl today
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problems with your man today
problems
problems with your girl today
problems
problems with your man today

song performed by Next
Added by Lucian Velea
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

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

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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Dare To Be Stupid

Put down your chainsaw and listen to me
Its time for us to join in the fight
Its time to let your babies grow up to be cowboys
Its time to let the bedbugs bite
You better put all your eggs in one basket
You better count your chickens before they hatch
You better sell some wine before its/its time
You better find yourself an itch to scratch
You better squeeze all the charmin you can while mr. wimpoles not around
Stick your head in the microwave and get yourself a tan
Talk with your mouth full
Bite the hand that feeds you
Bite on more than you chew
What can you do
Dare to be stupid
Take some wooden nickles
Look for mr. goodbar
Get your mojo working now
Ill show you how
You can dare to be stupid
You can turn the other cheek
You can just give up the ship
You can eat a bunch of sushi and forget to leave a tip
Dare to be stupid
Come on and dare to be stupid
Its so easy to do
Dare to be stupid
Were all waiting for you
Lets go
Its time to make a mountain out of a molehill
So can I have a volunteer
Theres no more time for crying over spilled milk
Now its time for crying in your beer
Settle down, raise a family, join the pta
Buy some sensible shoes and a chevyrolet
And party till youre broke and they drive you away
Its ok, you can dare to be stupid
Its like spitting on a fish
Its like barking up a tree
Its like I said you gotta buy one if you wanna get one free
Dare to be stupid (yes)
Why dont you dare to be stupid
Its so easy to do
Dare to be stupid
Were all waiting for you
Dare to be stupid
Burn your candle at both ends
Look a gift horse in the mouth
Mashed potatoes can be your friends
You can be a coffee achiever

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song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canto the First

I
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,
I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan—
We all have seen him, in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time.

II
Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,
Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,
And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now;
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk,
Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.

III
Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,
Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know:
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet,
Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau,
With many of the military set,
Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.

IV
Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,
And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd;
There's no more to be said of Trafalgar,
'T is with our hero quietly inurn'd;
Because the army's grown more popular,
At which the naval people are concern'd;
Besides, the prince is all for the land-service,
Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.

V
Brave men were living before Agamemnon
And since, exceeding valorous and sage,
A good deal like him too, though quite the same none;
But then they shone not on the poet's page,
And so have been forgotten:—I condemn none,
But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.

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poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sixth Book

THE English have a scornful insular way
Of calling the French light. The levity
Is in the judgment only, which yet stands;
For say a foolish thing but oft enough,
(And here's the secret of a hundred creeds,–
Men get opinions as boys learn to spell,
By re-iteration chiefly) the same thing
Shall pass at least for absolutely wise,
And not with fools exclusively. And so,
We say the French are light, as if we said
The cat mews, or the milch-cow gives us milk:
Say rather, cats are milked, and milch cows mew,
For what is lightness but inconsequence,
Vague fluctuation 'twixt effect and cause,
Compelled by neither? Is a bullet light,
That dashes from the gun-mouth, while the eye
Winks, and the heart beats one, to flatten itself
To a wafer on the white speck on a wall
A hundred paces off? Even so direct,
So sternly undivertible of aim,
Is this French people.
All idealists
Too absolute and earnest, with them all
The idea of a knife cuts real flesh;
And still, devouring the safe interval
Which Nature placed between the thought and act,
They threaten conflagration to the world
And rush with most unscrupulous logic on
Impossible practice. Set your orators
To blow upon them with loud windy mouths
Through watchword phrases, jest or sentiment,
Which drive our burley brutal English mobs
Like so much chaff, whichever way they blow,–
This light French people will not thus be driven.
They turn indeed; but then they turn upon
Some central pivot of their thought and choice,
And veer out by the force of holding fast.
–That's hard to understand, for Englishmen
Unused to abstract questions, and untrained
To trace the involutions, valve by valve,
In each orbed bulb-root of a general truth,
And mark what subtly fine integument
Divides opposed compartments. Freedom's self
Comes concrete to us, to be understood,
Fixed in a feudal form incarnately
To suit our ways of thought and reverence,
The special form, with us, being still the thing.
With us, I say, though I'm of Italy
My mother's birth and grave, by father's grave
And memory; let it be,–a poet's heart

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poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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