A full belly is neither good for flight, nor for fighting.
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Jolly Good Ale and Old
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
I cannot eat but little meat,
My stomach is not good;
But sure I think that I can drink
With him that wears a hood.
Though I go bare, take ye no care,
I am nothing a-cold;
I stuff my skin so full within
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
I love no roast but a nutbrown toast,
And a crab laid in the fire;
A little bread shall do me stead,
Much bread I not desire.
No frost nor snow, no wind, I trow,
Can hurt me if I would,
I am so wrapt, and throughly lapt
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
And Tib my wife, that as her life
Loveth well good ale to seek,
Full oft drinks she, till ye may see
The tears run down her cheek.
Then doth she troll to me the bowl,
Even as a maltworm should;
And saith,"Sweetheart, I took my part
Of this jolly good ale and old."
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
Now let them drink, till they nod and wink,
Even as good fellows should do;
They shall not miss to have the bliss
Good ale doth bring men to.
And all poor souls that have scoured bowls,
Or have them lustily troll'd,
God save the lives of them and their wives,
Whether they be young or old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
poem by William Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Back and Side go Bare
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
I cannot eat but little meat,
My stomach is not good;
But sure I think that I can drink
With him that wears a hood.
Though I go bare, take ye no care,
I am nothing a-cold;
I stuff my skin so full within
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
I love no roast but a nutbrown toast,
And a crab laid in the fire;
A little bread shall do me stead,
Much bread I not desire.
No frost nor snow, no wind, I trow,
Can hurt me if I would,
I am so wrapt, and throughly lapt
Of jolly good ale and old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
And Tib my wife, that as her life
Loveth well good ale to seek,
Full oft drinks she, till ye may see
The tears run down her cheek.
Then doth she troll to me the bowl,
Even as a maltworm should;
And saith,"Sweetheart, I took my part
Of this jolly good ale and old."
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
Now let them drink, till they nod and wink,
Even as good fellows should do;
They shall not miss to have the bliss
Good ale doth bring men to.
And all poor souls that have scoured bowls,
Or have them lustily troll'd,
God save the lives of them and their wives,
Whether they be young or old.
Back and side go bare, go bare,
Both foot and hand go cold;
But, belly, God send thee good ale enough,
Whether it be new or old.
poem by William Stevenson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Hidden Sweetness Is There
217
What hidden sweetness there is in this emptiness of the belly!
Man is surely like a lute, no more and no less;
For if, for instance, the belly of the lute becomes full, no
lament high or low will arise from that full lute.
If your brain and belly are on fire through fasting, because of
the fire every moment a lament will arise from your breast.
Every moment you will burn a thousand veils by that fire; you
will mount a hundred steps with zeal and endeavor.
Become empty of belly, and weep entreatingly like the reed
pipe; become empty of belly, and tell secrets with the reed pen.
If your belly is full at the time of concourse, it will bring Satan
in place of your reason, an idol in place of the Kaaba.
When you keep the fast, good habits gather together before
you like slaves and servants and retinue.
Keep the fast, for that is Solomon’s ring; give not the ring to
the div, destroy not your kingdom.
Even if your kingdom has gone from your head and your army
has fled, your army will rise up, pennants flying above them.
The table arrived from heaven to the tents of the fast, by the
intervention of the prayers of Jesus, son of Mary.
In the fast, be expectant of the table of bounty, for the table of
bounty is better than the broth of cabbages.
Belly rub
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
Gonna catch that freesby,
then bring it right back to you.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you feed me steak, ill jump in
the pool.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you let me sleep in your bed,
ill protect you from demons and
ghost.
poem by David Gerardino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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For My Dog Amber Who Died A Year Ago
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
Gonna catch that freesby,
then bring it right back to you.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you feed me steak, ill jump in
the pool.
Belly rub,
belly rub,
begs my dog.
if you let me sleep in your bed,
ill protect you from demons and
ghost.
poem by David Gerardino
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kite
Come up and be a kite
Beelzebub is aching in my belly-o.
My feet are heavy and Im rooted in my wellios.
And I want to get away and go
From all these mirror windows.
I look at eye level, it isnt good enough.
And then I find it out when I take a good look up.
Theres a hole in the sky with a big eyeball
Calling me:
Come up and be a kite,
On a diamond flight!
A diamond kite, a diamond kite.
Ooh, what a diamond!
A diamond kite
On a diamond flight.
Over the lights, under the moon.
Over the lights, under the moon.
Over the moon, over the moon!
I feel a rush along my body, like a bullet.
Im 2-d after a push-and-pull feeling.
And I want to get back to safe home:
I love the homeland dome.*
I got no limbs, Im like a feather on the wind.
Well, Im not sure if I want to be up here, at all.
And Id like to be back on the ground,
But I dont know how to get down--down--down!
Come up and be a kite,
On a diamond flight!
A diamond kite, a diamond kite.
Ooh, what a diamond!
A diamond kite
On a diamond flight.
Over the lights, under the moon.
Over the lights, under the moon.
Over the moon, over the moon!
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The hungry belly and the full belly do not walk the same road.
The Dark Knight Comes Too Pass
The dark knight has come
Fighting for his moment
Fighting for his glory
Fighting for his thrown
Fighting is all he has ever known
From a mere boy
Being raised by the wolves
Living in the darkness for just too long
Something just went so wrong
The dark knight has come
Fighting for his moment
Fighting for his glory
Fighting for his thrown
Fighting is all he has ever known
Was it a death so desperately
Forever in misery
A loves tragedy
Is always so sad to see
The dark knight has come
Fighting for his moment
Fighting for his glory
Fighting for his thrown
Fighting is all he has ever known
The not so dead family
A murder held with in their arms
With no recourse
With no remorse
The dark knight has come
Fighting for his moment
Fighting for his glory
Fighting for his thrown
Fighting is all he has ever known
He's the alternate ending
As the light comes to pass
Shadows lurk
They shouldn't be disturbed
Let them rest in peace
The dark knight has come
Fighting for his moment
Fighting for his glory
Fighting for his thrown
Fighting is all he has ever known
Festered hate fills his eyes
As he is victimized
By those desecrated his loves ones grave
Becoming of the nightly terrors
The dark knight has come
Fighting for his moment
Fighting for his glory
Fighting for his thrown
Fighting is all he has ever known
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Words Fight
words fighting
with life...
with out hands...
with out knife...
with wife...
words fighting
with any wear
on mouth
on paper
on news
on television
any wear
words are fighting
again and again
with enemy
with friend
with with out
bad...
or good...?
fighting too
fit with un fit...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Street Fighting Man
Everywhere I hear the sound of marching, charging feet, boy
cause summers here and the time is right for fighting in the street, boy
Tell me what can a poor boy do
cept for sing for a rock n roll band
cause in this sleepy l.a. town
Theres just no place for a street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
Do you think the time is right for a palace revolution
Where I live the game to play is compromise solution
Well then what can a poor boy
cept for sing for a rock n roll band
cause in this sleepy l.a. town
Theres just no place for a street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
Well what else can a poor boy do?
Well what else can a poor boy do?
Well what else can a poor boy do?
Well what else can a poor boy do?
Hey my name is called disturbance
Ill shout and scream, Ill kill the king, Ill rail at all his servants
Well what can a poor boy do
For sing for a rock n roll band
In this sleepy l.a. town
Theres just no place for
For a street fighting man
A street fighting man
For a street fighting man
A street fighting man
For a street fighting man
A street fighting man
For a street fighting man
A street fighting man
For a street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
A street fighting man
song performed by by Rage Against The Machine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Flight Occurs
When you walk along a flight occurs after fighting
And wounding another animal, duty has you in the way.
These minor points of distinction remade you,
Jutting out are rocks of hard weight and shape.
Heaven is in the direction of your heart,
Leading to beautiful rocks so patterned in the sky
As far as the eye can see, as far as ever.
Your walking speed was immense, it used to be,
And always the flight came easy for you.
Never falter in your graceful practice,
That is to say, just fly beyond the hills and mountains
And land to see the army and government
Who are the authorities, who can see your flight.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Saturday Night's Alright For Fighting
It's getting late, I haven't seen my date
So tell me where the boys get in
It's seven o'clock and I want to rock
Want to get a belly full of beer
My old man's drunker than a barrel full of monkeys
And my old lady she don't care
My sister looks cute in her braces and boots
A handful of grease in her hair
Don't give us none of your aggravation
We had it with your discipline
Saturday night's alright for fighting
Get a little action in
Get about as oiled as a diesel train
Gonna set this town alight
'Cause Saturday night's the night I like
Saturday night's alright alright alright
Well they're packed pretty tight in here tonight
I'm looking for a woman who'll see me right
I may use a little muscle to get what I need
I'll drink a fifth of jack and scream out
song performed by by Nickelback
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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True Soldier
You're off in war
While the love of your life is here
Be sure to come back
Be sure to come back for her
Don't forget the sights of our U.S.A.
The freedoms along with every privilege
Every privilege
Every privilege
(chorus)
You're fighting for freedom
You're fighting for rights
You're fighting to keep America in sight
Fighting for freedom
Fighting for rights
Fighting to keep my America in sight
Our affection is w/ you along w/ our pride
Keep us alive
Keep us alive
the tattoo on your arm reminds you of death
And friends who have died
The friend who has died
(chorus)
You're fighting for freedom
You're fighting for rights
You're fighting to keep America in sight
Fighting for freedom
Fighting for rights
Fighting to keep my America in sight
Down on her knees your mom prays for you
She's begging the Lord to bring you home safe
Come home safe
Please come home safe
Fly in the sky w/ all of your crew
Don't close your eyes the enemy stays true
You know what they can do
You know what they can do
(chorus)
You're fighting for freedom
You're fighting for rights
You're fighting to keep America in sight
Fighting for freedom
Fighting for rights
Fighting to keep my America in sight
*song for my amazing uncle overseas right now
The Antipop
The Earth it did crack open
on the day that I was born
and a thousand merry pranksters
came dancin' through the storm.
I lay cradle bound
a howlin' out my mind
not knowin' years to come
I'd be shoutin' over din
I sucked information through the holes in my skull
as my belly gurgles hungry my mouth is always full.
I am Antipop; I'll run against the grain till the day I drop.
I am the Antipop; the man you cannot stop.
As a young man,
I plug into the tube,
but the stench of all that pretense
I cannot muddle through.
I lay on my back
and scan the radio
all that comes out my speakers
is a steady syrup flow.
I suck information through the holes in my skull
as my belly gurgles hungry my mouth is always full.
I stood by watching
and I seen 'em come and go.
I seen 'em make that million
then vanish in the snow.
They come upon you
like a pack of rabid hounds
as they slobber in your ears
and purge you with their sounds.
Pushing misinformation through the holes in my skull
my belly gurgles nauseous and still my mouth is full.
I am Antipop; I'll run against the grain till the day I drop.
I am the Antipop; the man you cannot stop.
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fighting one more day
Sitting here waiting compleatly in vain.
All that'll be said is come back again.
But I know full well tommorrow is to late.
I cant fight another day.
Life is ment for some.
But it never was meant for me.
That I was sure about from the start.
Fighting one more day is pointless.
As it swallows me whole.
By fighting yesterday was hard enough.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Saturday Night's Alright (For Fighting)
It's getting late have you seen my mates
Ma tell me when the boys get here
It's seven o'clock and I want to rock
Want to get a belly full of beer
My old man's drunker than a barrel full of monkeys
And my old lady she don't care
My sister looks cute in her braces and boots
A handful of grease in her hair
Don't give us none of your aggravation
We had it with your discipline
Saturday night's alright for fighting
Get a little action in
Get about as oiled as a diesel train
Gonna set this dance alight
'Cause Saturday night's the night I like
Saturday night's alright alright alright
Well they're packed pretty tight in here tonight
I'm looking for a dolly who'll see me right
I may use a little muscle to get what I need
I may sink a little drink and shout out "She's with me!"
A couple of the sound that I really like
Are the sounds of a switchblade and a motorbike
I'm a juvenile product of the working class
Whose best friend floats in the bottom of a glass
song performed by by Nickelback
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is Nothing Sacred
If a love as strong as ours
Couldnt make it all the way,
Can anything make sense at all?
If a love so deep and true
Couldnt stand the test of time,
Then mount everest could slide,
And jeruselem could fall.
Is nothing sacred anymore?
Is forever just another word?
Is a promise something people used to keep
When love was worth fighting for?
If we can say good-bye,
If we can say good-bye,
Is nothing sacred anymore?
If we can say good-bye
Is nothing sacred anymore?
I can hear the final words
Every sentence that was said
Dont know what turned our lives around.
It doesnt matter who was right,
Theres no justice in a dream.
Never thought a heart could break
Without making any sound.
Is nothing sacred anymore?
Is forever just another word?
Is a promise something people used to keep
When love was worth fighting for?
If we can say good-bye,
If we can say good-bye,
Is nothing sacred anymore?
If we can say good-bye
If we can say good-bye
Is nothing sacred anymore?
Our love was as certain as the dawn,
As solid and save as any love could be.
Our love was the star you wished upon,
And you thought that I saved you,
Couldve sworn that you saved me.
Is nothing sacred anymore?
Is forever just another word?
Is a promise something people used to keep
When love was worth fighting for?
If we can say good-bye,
If we can say good-bye,
Is nothing sacred anymore?
Is nothing sacred anymore?
Is forever just another word?
Is a promise something people used to keep
When love was worth fighting for?
If we can say good-bye,
If we can say good-bye,
Is nothing sacred anymore?
If we can say good-bye,
If we can say good-bye...
Is nothing sacred anymore...
Is nothing sacred anymore...
Is nothing sacred anymore...
song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fighting My Way Back
Im tough, rough, ready and able
To pick myself up from under this table
Dont stick no sign on me, I got no label
Im a little sick, unsure, unsound and unstable
But Im fighting my way back
Im busting out and Im going in
Im kicking up about the state Im in
Looking to my future, not my past
I want to be a good boy but how long can it last
Fighting my way back
This kid is going to wreck and ruin
Im not quite sure of what Im doing
You see it happened all a little too soon
But its all there in this here tune
Fighting my way back
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Progress of Poetry
The Farmer's Goose, who in the Stubble,
Has fed without Restraint, or Trouble;
Grown fat with Corn and Sitting still,
Can scarce get o'er the Barn-Door Sill:
And hardly waddles forth, to cool
Her Belly in the neighb'ring Pool:
Nor loudly cackles at the Door;
For Cackling shews the Goose is poor.
But when she must be turn'd to graze,
And round the barren Common strays,
Hard Exercise, and harder Fare
Soon make my Dame grow lank and spare:
Her Body light, she tries her Wings,
And scorns the Ground, and upward springs,
While all the Parish, as she flies,
Hear Sounds harmonious from the Skies.
Such is the Poet, fresh in Pay,
(The third Night's Profits of his Play;)
His Morning-Draughts 'till Noon can swill,
Among his Brethren of the Quill:
With good Roast Beef his Belly full,
Grown lazy, foggy, fat, and dull:
Deep sunk in Plenty, and Delight,
What Poet e'er could take his Flight?
Or stuff'd with Phlegm up to the Throat,
What Poet e'er could sing a Note?
Nor Pegasus could bear the Load,
Along the high celestial Road;
The Steed, oppress'd, would break his Girth,
To raise the Lumber from the Earth.
But, view him in another Scene,
When all his Drink is Hippocrene,
His Money spent, his Patrons fail,
His Credit out for Cheese and Ale;
His Two-Year's Coat so smooth and bare,
Through ev'ry Thread it lets in Air;
With hungry Meals his Body pin'd,
His Guts and Belly full of Wind;
And, like a Jockey for a Race,
His Flesh brought down to Flying-Case:
Now his exalted Spirit loaths
Incumbrances of Food and Cloaths;
And up he rises like a Vapour,
Supported high on Wings of Paper;
He singing flies, and flying sings,
While from below all Grub-street rings.
poem by Jonathan Swift
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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