I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair.
Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.
Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day
I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps.
I hunger for your sleek laugh,
your hands the color of a savage harvest,
hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails,
I want to eat your skin like a whole almond.
I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body,
the sovereign nose of your arrogant face,
I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes,
and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight,
hunting for you, for your hot heart,
like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue.
Veronica A. Shoffstall
After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn’t mean leaning
and company doesn’t always mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren’t contracts
and presents aren’t promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of woman, not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow’s ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn…
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn’t mean leaning
and company doesn’t always mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren’t contracts
and presents aren’t promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of woman, not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow’s ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn…
Charles C. Finn
Please don’t be fooled by me. Don’t be fooled by the face I wear, for I wear a mask. I wear a thousand masks, masks that I’m afraid to take off and none of them are me. Pretending is an art that is second nature to me, but don’t be fooled, for God’s sake don’t be fooled.
I give you the impression I’m secure and that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well as without, that confidence is my name, coolness my game, that water is calm and I’m in command and that I need no one, but don’t believe me, please don’t believe me.
My surface may be smooth, but my surface is a mask—my every varying and ever concealing mask. Beneath it dwells the real confusion, fear and aloneness. Beneath lies my smugness, my complacently, but I hide this—I don’t want anyone to know it.
I panic at the thought of my weakness and fear being exposed. That’s why I frantically created a mask to hide behind— nonchalant sophisticated facades to help me pretend— to shield me from the glance that knows— but such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only salvation and I know it. That is if it’s followed by acceptance. If it’s followed by love, it’s the only thing that can liberate me from myself, from my own self built prison walls and from the barriers that I so painstakingly erect. It’s the only thing that will assure me of what I cannot assure myself, that I’m really worth while, but I don’t tell you this, I don’t dare—I’m afraid to.
I’m afraid that your glance will not be followed by acceptance and love. I’m afraid you’ll think less of me and you’ll laugh and your laugh will kill me. I’m afraid that deep down, I’m nothing and that I’m just no good and that you’ll see this and reject me.
So I play my game; my desperate pretending; with the facade of assurance without and a trembling child within. And so begins the parade of masks, the glittering, but empty parade of masks and my life becomes a front. I idle chatter to you in suave tones of surface talk. I tell you everything that’s really nothing and nothing of what’s everything and what’s crying within me.
So when I’m through going through my routine, do not be fooled by what I’m saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I’m not saying—what I’d like to be able to say, but for survival I need to say, but what I can’t say.
I dislike hiding, honestly, I dislike the superficial game I’m playing, the superficial phony game. I’d really like to be genuine, spontaneous and me, but you’ve got to help me, you’ve got to hold out your hand, even when it’s the last thing I seem to want or need.
You can help wipe away from my eyes—the blank stare of grieving dead. You can help call me into aliveness each time you’re kind, gentle and encouraging. Each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings, very small wings, very feeble wings, but wings.
If you choose to, please choose to. You can help break down the wall behind which I tremble. You can encourage me to remove my mask. You can help release me from my shadowed world of panic and uncertainty. From my lonely prison.
So do not pass me by— please don’t pass me by. It will not be easy for you. A lone conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. The nearer you approach me, the blinder I may strike back.
It’s irrational, but despite what books say about man, I am irrational, I fight against the very things that I cry out for, but I am told love is stronger than strong walls. In this lies my hope, my only hope, please help beat down those walls with firm hands, but with gentle hands—for a child is very sensitive.
Who am I, you may wonder? I am someone you know very well. For I am every man you meet and I am every women you meet.
I give you the impression I’m secure and that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well as without, that confidence is my name, coolness my game, that water is calm and I’m in command and that I need no one, but don’t believe me, please don’t believe me.
My surface may be smooth, but my surface is a mask—my every varying and ever concealing mask. Beneath it dwells the real confusion, fear and aloneness. Beneath lies my smugness, my complacently, but I hide this—I don’t want anyone to know it.
I panic at the thought of my weakness and fear being exposed. That’s why I frantically created a mask to hide behind— nonchalant sophisticated facades to help me pretend— to shield me from the glance that knows— but such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only salvation and I know it. That is if it’s followed by acceptance. If it’s followed by love, it’s the only thing that can liberate me from myself, from my own self built prison walls and from the barriers that I so painstakingly erect. It’s the only thing that will assure me of what I cannot assure myself, that I’m really worth while, but I don’t tell you this, I don’t dare—I’m afraid to.
I’m afraid that your glance will not be followed by acceptance and love. I’m afraid you’ll think less of me and you’ll laugh and your laugh will kill me. I’m afraid that deep down, I’m nothing and that I’m just no good and that you’ll see this and reject me.
So I play my game; my desperate pretending; with the facade of assurance without and a trembling child within. And so begins the parade of masks, the glittering, but empty parade of masks and my life becomes a front. I idle chatter to you in suave tones of surface talk. I tell you everything that’s really nothing and nothing of what’s everything and what’s crying within me.
So when I’m through going through my routine, do not be fooled by what I’m saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I’m not saying—what I’d like to be able to say, but for survival I need to say, but what I can’t say.
I dislike hiding, honestly, I dislike the superficial game I’m playing, the superficial phony game. I’d really like to be genuine, spontaneous and me, but you’ve got to help me, you’ve got to hold out your hand, even when it’s the last thing I seem to want or need.
You can help wipe away from my eyes—the blank stare of grieving dead. You can help call me into aliveness each time you’re kind, gentle and encouraging. Each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings, very small wings, very feeble wings, but wings.
If you choose to, please choose to. You can help break down the wall behind which I tremble. You can encourage me to remove my mask. You can help release me from my shadowed world of panic and uncertainty. From my lonely prison.
So do not pass me by— please don’t pass me by. It will not be easy for you. A lone conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. The nearer you approach me, the blinder I may strike back.
It’s irrational, but despite what books say about man, I am irrational, I fight against the very things that I cry out for, but I am told love is stronger than strong walls. In this lies my hope, my only hope, please help beat down those walls with firm hands, but with gentle hands—for a child is very sensitive.
Who am I, you may wonder? I am someone you know very well. For I am every man you meet and I am every women you meet.
Hayley Cafarella
It’s the way you look at me
And actually listen
Like you could understand
And comprehend
Who I am
All that I wish I could be
Watching you pay attention
I start to believe
That things could get better
You should know it makes a difference
And actually listen
Like you could understand
And comprehend
Who I am
All that I wish I could be
Watching you pay attention
I start to believe
That things could get better
You should know it makes a difference
Anais Nin
And then the day came,
when the risk
to remain tight
in a bud
was more painful
than the risk
it took
to blossom.
when the risk
to remain tight
in a bud
was more painful
than the risk
it took
to blossom.
E.E. Cummings
since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world
my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don’t cry
- the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids’ flutter which says
we are for each other; then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life’s not a paragraph
And death i think is no parenthesis
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world
my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don’t cry
- the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids’ flutter which says
we are for each other; then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life’s not a paragraph
And death i think is no parenthesis
Robert Frost
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-by;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-by;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
Maya Angelou
I couldn't tell fact from fiction,
Or if the dream was true
My only sure prediction
In this world was you.
I'd touch your features inchly. Beard love and dared the cost, The sented spiel reeled me unreal And I found my senses lost.
Or if the dream was true
My only sure prediction
In this world was you.
I'd touch your features inchly. Beard love and dared the cost, The sented spiel reeled me unreal And I found my senses lost.
Dave Matthews Band
Oh, just sitting while she listens
She says I dont need this place
It seems a million years shes stuck here
But says nothing of what she thinks
She thinks, hey,
How did I come to this?
I dreamt like anybody else one night
I would be a beautiful princess.
But then the roads in the park fall
And then she rode the line in
And the colors mix together to grey
And break me out
Oh, when Im indifferent
She prays to God most every night
Although she swears he doesnt listen
Theres hope in her that he just might
She says, I pray
But then my prayer fall on deaf ears
Im supposed to take it all myself
To get out of this place.
She feels the lumps in the heart fall
And she rose up in the back
She hears the cars scream out from outside
And she whispers sometimes about this
But the colors mix together to grey
And wake me up
Oh, he grows up living
He says take what you can from your dreams
Make them real as anything
It takes the work out of the courage
She said, please,
Theres a crazy man standing outside my door
I live on the corner of a dead end street
At the end of the world.
Oh, and the rocks out in the heart fall
And she dreams her way to life
And she knows no one will lift her
So she might as well do it herself
And then bummed out and worried
Of leaving city life
But all the colors mix together to grey
On grey street
On grey street
To grey street
Oh, when it comes down in your loving
Oh, well then baby its right
You say you think you are nothing
No one else will do it for you
Reach up and grab hold of the sunlight
When you are waiting for whats right
Youre holding on your heaven
Wont leave you, yeah, yeah...
And the colors mix together to grey
Wake me up, wake me up, wake me up
To grey.
She says I dont need this place
It seems a million years shes stuck here
But says nothing of what she thinks
She thinks, hey,
How did I come to this?
I dreamt like anybody else one night
I would be a beautiful princess.
But then the roads in the park fall
And then she rode the line in
And the colors mix together to grey
And break me out
Oh, when Im indifferent
She prays to God most every night
Although she swears he doesnt listen
Theres hope in her that he just might
She says, I pray
But then my prayer fall on deaf ears
Im supposed to take it all myself
To get out of this place.
She feels the lumps in the heart fall
And she rose up in the back
She hears the cars scream out from outside
And she whispers sometimes about this
But the colors mix together to grey
And wake me up
Oh, he grows up living
He says take what you can from your dreams
Make them real as anything
It takes the work out of the courage
She said, please,
Theres a crazy man standing outside my door
I live on the corner of a dead end street
At the end of the world.
Oh, and the rocks out in the heart fall
And she dreams her way to life
And she knows no one will lift her
So she might as well do it herself
And then bummed out and worried
Of leaving city life
But all the colors mix together to grey
On grey street
On grey street
To grey street
Oh, when it comes down in your loving
Oh, well then baby its right
You say you think you are nothing
No one else will do it for you
Reach up and grab hold of the sunlight
When you are waiting for whats right
Youre holding on your heaven
Wont leave you, yeah, yeah...
And the colors mix together to grey
Wake me up, wake me up, wake me up
To grey.
Warped and Twisted
harsh words and violent blows
hidden secrets nobody nows
eyes are open, hands are fisted
deep inside i'm warped and twisted
so many tricks and so many lies
too many whens and too many whys
nobody's special, nobody's gifted
i'm just me, warped and twisted
sleeping awake and choking on a dream
listening loudly to a silent scream
call my mind, the number's unlisted
lost in someone so warped and twisted
on my knees, alive but dead
look at the invisible blood i've bled
i'm not gone, my mind has drifted
don't expect much, i'm warped and twisted
burnt out, wasted, empty and hollow
today's just yesterday's tomorrow
the sun died out, the ashes sifted
i'm still here, warped and twisted
hidden secrets nobody nows
eyes are open, hands are fisted
deep inside i'm warped and twisted
so many tricks and so many lies
too many whens and too many whys
nobody's special, nobody's gifted
i'm just me, warped and twisted
sleeping awake and choking on a dream
listening loudly to a silent scream
call my mind, the number's unlisted
lost in someone so warped and twisted
on my knees, alive but dead
look at the invisible blood i've bled
i'm not gone, my mind has drifted
don't expect much, i'm warped and twisted
burnt out, wasted, empty and hollow
today's just yesterday's tomorrow
the sun died out, the ashes sifted
i'm still here, warped and twisted
Rudyard Kipling
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
Megan McCafferty
i confess, yes, our fall was all my fault
if you kissed my eyes, your lips would taste salt
but you think my regret is a lie and the tears i cry
are the crocodile kind
the sweat on your upper lip starts to boil
white hot with anger, still convinced i'm your foil
from crocodile lies
you, yes, you, linger inside my heart
the same you who stopped us before we could start
i didn't want to leave, but you began to believe
your own crocodile lies
the only person stopping you is yourself
you won't accept that i want no one else
so until you do, i'll let someone else have you
every day, i live the lie
but not the crocodile kind
if you kissed my eyes, your lips would taste salt
but you think my regret is a lie and the tears i cry
are the crocodile kind
the sweat on your upper lip starts to boil
white hot with anger, still convinced i'm your foil
from crocodile lies
you, yes, you, linger inside my heart
the same you who stopped us before we could start
i didn't want to leave, but you began to believe
your own crocodile lies
the only person stopping you is yourself
you won't accept that i want no one else
so until you do, i'll let someone else have you
every day, i live the lie
but not the crocodile kind
Michael Patrick Carlson
No more angels
No more dreams
Only rain and wind
The coldness of steel
The end of my chapter
But the story goes on
Pages turned and forgotten
I'll read yours when I"m gone
No glory in death
No heaven or hell
Just a void which is empty
Where nothingness dwells
No more dreams
Only rain and wind
The coldness of steel
The end of my chapter
But the story goes on
Pages turned and forgotten
I'll read yours when I"m gone
No glory in death
No heaven or hell
Just a void which is empty
Where nothingness dwells
Maya Angelou
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
Simon & Garfunkel
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said: the words of prophets are written
On the subway walls and tenement halls
And whispered in the sound of silence
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said: the words of prophets are written
On the subway walls and tenement halls
And whispered in the sound of silence
Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that, the passing there
had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
in leaves no feet had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference
and sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that, the passing there
had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
in leaves no feet had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference
Emily Dickinson
Because I could not stop for death
He kindly stopped for me
The carriage held but jut
Ourselves and immortality
He kindly stopped for me
The carriage held but jut
Ourselves and immortality
Love Letters
Good morning, on July 7
Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us - I can live only wholly with you or not at all - Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits - Yes, unhappily it must be so - You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you. No one else can ever possess my heart - never - never - Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves. And yet my life in V is now a wretched life - Your love makes me at once the happiest and the unhappiest of men - At my age I nedd a steady, quiet life - can that be so in our connection? My angel, I have just been told that the mailcoach goes every day - therefore I must close at once so that you may receive the letter at once - Be calm, only by a clam consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together - Be calm - love me - today - yesterday - what tearful longings for you - you - you - my life - my all - farewell. Oh continue to love me - never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.
ever thine
ever mine
ever ours
Ludwig Van Beethoven 1827
Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us - I can live only wholly with you or not at all - Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits - Yes, unhappily it must be so - You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you. No one else can ever possess my heart - never - never - Oh God, why must one be parted from one whom one so loves. And yet my life in V is now a wretched life - Your love makes me at once the happiest and the unhappiest of men - At my age I nedd a steady, quiet life - can that be so in our connection? My angel, I have just been told that the mailcoach goes every day - therefore I must close at once so that you may receive the letter at once - Be calm, only by a clam consideration of our existence can we achieve our purpose to live together - Be calm - love me - today - yesterday - what tearful longings for you - you - you - my life - my all - farewell. Oh continue to love me - never misjudge the most faithful heart of your beloved.
ever thine
ever mine
ever ours
Ludwig Van Beethoven 1827
William Shakespeare
If we shadows have offended
This but this and all is mended
That you have but slumb'red here
While these visions did appear
And this weak and idle theme
No more yielding than a dream
Gentles, do not reprehend
If you pardon, we will mend
And, as I am an honest Puck
If we have unearned luck
Now to scape the serpant's tongue
We will make amends ere long
Else the Puck a liar call
So, goodnight, unto you all
Give me your hands, if we be friends
And Robin shall restore amends
This but this and all is mended
That you have but slumb'red here
While these visions did appear
And this weak and idle theme
No more yielding than a dream
Gentles, do not reprehend
If you pardon, we will mend
And, as I am an honest Puck
If we have unearned luck
Now to scape the serpant's tongue
We will make amends ere long
Else the Puck a liar call
So, goodnight, unto you all
Give me your hands, if we be friends
And Robin shall restore amends
Megan McCafferty
we
are adam and eve
born out of chaos called creation
ribbing me gave you life
yet you forget
there will always be
a part of me in you
yes
i taunted and tempted
you
with my forbidden fruit
does that make
me
the serpant too?
believe what you will
but if i am exiled
alone
i know we will be
together again someday
naked
without shame
in paradise
my thanks to you
for being in on my
sin
are adam and eve
born out of chaos called creation
ribbing me gave you life
yet you forget
there will always be
a part of me in you
yes
i taunted and tempted
you
with my forbidden fruit
does that make
me
the serpant too?
believe what you will
but if i am exiled
alone
i know we will be
together again someday
naked
without shame
in paradise
my thanks to you
for being in on my
sin
W.H. Auden
Young men late in the night
Toss on their beds,
Their pillows do not comfort
Their uneasy heads,
The lot that decides their fate
Is cast to-morrow,
One must depart and face
Danger and sorrow.
Look in your heart and see
There lies the answer,
Though the heart like a clever
Conjuror or dancer,
Deceive you with many
A curious sleight,
And motives like stowaways
Are found too late.
He shall again his peace
Feel his heart harden,
Envy the heavy birds
At home in the garden,
For walk he must the empty
Selfish journey,
Between the needless risk
And the endless safety.
Clouds and lions stand
Before him dangerous,
And the hostility of dreams.
Then let him honor us,
Lets he should be ashamed
In the hour of crisis:
In the valley of corrosion
Tarnish his brightness.
Toss on their beds,
Their pillows do not comfort
Their uneasy heads,
The lot that decides their fate
Is cast to-morrow,
One must depart and face
Danger and sorrow.
Look in your heart and see
There lies the answer,
Though the heart like a clever
Conjuror or dancer,
Deceive you with many
A curious sleight,
And motives like stowaways
Are found too late.
He shall again his peace
Feel his heart harden,
Envy the heavy birds
At home in the garden,
For walk he must the empty
Selfish journey,
Between the needless risk
And the endless safety.
Clouds and lions stand
Before him dangerous,
And the hostility of dreams.
Then let him honor us,
Lets he should be ashamed
In the hour of crisis:
In the valley of corrosion
Tarnish his brightness.
Maya Angelou
Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
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