If it isn't wintry in January then expect the worst in February.
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Fire In The Belly
Call of the wildest, its got the best of you
Fire in my heart, fire in my belly too
Got a heart and a mind and a fire inside
And Im crazy about you
You, you on your high flying cloud
You, you when youre laughing out loud
You, you with your hidden surprise
You
Stoke up my engine, bring me my driving wheel
Once I get started youll see just how I feel
And Im crazy about you
And Im crazy about you
And Im crazy about you
You, you on your high flying cloud
You, you when youre laughing out loud
You, you with your hidden surprise
You
Gotta get through january
Gotta get through february
Gotta get through january
Gotta get through february
Gotta get through january
Gotta get through february
Gotta get through january
Spring in my heart, fire in my belly too
I come apart, I dont know just what to do
Got a heart and a mind and a fire inside
And Im crazy about you
You, you on your high flying cloud
You, you with the laugh in your eyes
You, you with your hidden surprise
You
Gotta get through january
Gotta get through february
Gotta get through january
Gotta get through february
Gotta get through january
Gotta get through february
Gotta get through january
Spring in my heart, fire in my belly too
I come apart, I dont know just what to do
Got a heart and a mind and a fire inside
And Im crazy about you
You, you on your high flying cloud
You, you with the laugh in your eyes
You, you with your hidden surprise
You
Talkin bout you
Talkin bout you
Talkin bout you
Talkin bout you
Talkin bout you
Talkin bout you (talkin bout you)
Talkin bout you (fire in the belly too)
Talkin bout you (talkin bout you)
Talkin bout you (talkin bout you)
Talkin bout you (talkin bout you)
Talkin bout you (talkin bout you)
Talkin bout you (talkin bout you)
Talkin bout you
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Expect Your ………….You!
Expect your friend to be not better than you;
Expect your neighbor to not forgive you;
Expect your country not to goad you;
Expect your siblings to but discourage you;
Expect your children to not care for you;
Expect your spouse to rather hinder you;
Expect your love to always forget you;
Expect your home sometimes to ignore you;
Expect your native place to not honor you;
Expect the world to disregard you;
Expect your enemy to well hate you;
Expect your Maker to much love you;
Expect your God to never forsake you;
Expect your Lord and God to never abandon you.
poem by John Celes
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Another February
It's a non month
that takes me from winter
to early spring.
It sneaks in,
like a mousey spinster,
barren and lonely,
mostly ignored
and then hurries
back to whence it came.
It is the worst month,
dark and dismal,
neither here nor there,
never thought about,
except for its rain.
February, poor February,
its only redemption
is it is swift
and goes quickly on its way.
poem by Ruth Walters
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I miss everything about Chicago, except January and February.
Before And After Summer
I
Looking forward to the spring
One puts up with anything.
On this February day,
Though the winds leap down the street,
Wintry scourgings seem but play,
And these later shafts of sleet
- Sharper pointed than the first -
And these later snows - the worst -
Are as a half-transparent blind
Riddled by rays from sun behind.
II
Shadows of the October pine
Reach into this room of mine:
On the pine there stands a bird;
He is shadowed with the tree.
Mutely perched he bills no word;
Blank as I am even is he.
For those happy suns are past,
Fore-discerned in winter last.
When went by their pleasure, then?
I, alas, perceived not when.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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The Worst And The Best
in the hospitals and jails
it's the worst
in madhouses
it's the worst
in penthouses
it's the worst
in skid row flophouses
it's the worst
at poetry readings
at rock concerts
at benefits for the disabled
it's the worst
at funerals
at weddings
it's the worst
at parades
at skating rinks
at sexual orgies
it's the worst
at midnight
at 3 a.m.
at 5:45 p.m.
it's the worst
poem by Charles Bukowski
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In January you slaughter the lambs in February you work the skins.
Rani Sonata
Rani
It is the last day of
January
February will be here on
Monday
People are saying that spring will be here
In 3 months
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Hooray February!
I love February
because it’s a brewery
of chilly winter
and sunny warmth.
I love February
because it isn’t a cocky first;
but only a modest next
like how I always prefer
taking a second row chair.
Likewise my car, hello,
is not a Uno, but an Alto!
I love February
because it’s the baby
of the promising January.
And with that promise
February bears March
with all its vernal vibrancy.
I love water, aqua:
It’s the spring of life.
I love February
because I am an Aquarian.
I love February
because the holy water eponymous
purifies me and makes me vigorous
a la
Februa
the great Roman festival.
I love February
because it’s doughty,
has the will to survive:
From a long monthless limbo
to the twelfth place
then to the second
in the calendar -
it was a saga of freedom fight
in the hoary history of time.
I love February
because it’s a month of lovely violets
of diverse hues and scents galore
and
of amethysts that keep you sober.
I love February
because it’s the one month
that determines the leap
or otherwise of a year
shortie it is though.
They malign February as ‘hollow’ and ominous.
Don’t fib, I reply, it is ‘full’ and luminous:
I work for twenty eight
and get paid for thirty one.
Then isn’t it ‘full’?
No triskaidekaphobe,
I love the thirteenth
for it symbolises
the eternal crusade
against superstition
and discrimination.
God loves it too
for He has made the date
a rendezvous
of countless events
no less happy than any other.
I love Feb thirteenth
because I came into this world
on that unique date.
For me it’s always the first.
In their nineties and seventies
still going strong
on me shower my parents
a golden pot of blessings full.
Long live Februarians!
Long live humanitarians!
[Feb 11,2009: : Hyderabad - 500 056]
poem by AtreyaSarma Uppaluri
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Expect More
Expect more,
From yourself...
Before your self respect,
becomes enclosed
Behind shut doors.
Expect more,
Not less.
When your best,
Has been ignored.
Expect more,
Or you'll be next...
Left when your intentions,
Begin to bore.
Expect more,
From those awake.
But the exchange makes them snore.
Expect more,
If a game played becomes too straight.
And you must be that whore!
To gain the attention,
Some express you adore.
Expect more...
From them and yourself to win.
In this life expect more.
Don't accept what is suspected.
Don't throw tantrums and fits...
Just to keep limits explored!
Expect more!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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January five
I'll always remember,
those late afternoons.
That lasted forever and
ended so soon. (Mandy Moore)
You were gone for so long
and came in august.
Asked me what happened,
why can't you walk?
Boy how i tell you,
promise me you won't cry,
when you'll find
I am dying.
January i got to know,
February you called
March i shouted at you,
April i faked smiles and hided from you,
may, June i bore syringes
august i hided my b'day
and now i want to say...
Take me to your wonderland.
Make me feel i am in safe-hands.
Baby i want to cry,
want to shed them,
controlled from January five.
poem by Pratibha Awasthi
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One Third Of The Calendar
In January everything freezes.
We have two children. Both are she'ses.
This is our January rule:
One girl in bed, and one in school.
In February the blizzard whirls.
We own a pair of little girls.
Blessings upon of each the head ----
The one in school and the one in bed.
March is the month of cringe and bluster.
Each of our children has a sister.
They cling together like Hansel and Gretel,
With their noses glued to the benzoin kettle.
April is made of impetuous waters
And doctors looking down throats of daughters.
If we had a son too, and a thoroughbred,
We'd have a horse,
And a boy,
And two girls
In bed.
poem by Ogden Nash
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The Preparatory Commission held a total of four sessions, the last of which took place just under two years after its creation, from 31 January to 14 February 1967.
quote by Alfonso G. Robles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Worst Comes to Worst
(Babu mixing)
"Worst come to worst my peoples come first"
"Worst...come.....to worst"
"Worst come to worst my peoples come first"
"Worst come...to...worst"
"Worst come to worst my peoples come first"
(Evidence talking)
Yeah
It's goin down y'all
That's Babu
Yo
song performed by by Dilated Peoples from Expansion Team
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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February may be short but it's the worst month.
Piazza Liberta
[Piazza Liberta]
Trieste. Of my February foggy white dense
a student, to expect this term to finish
You kept me in your spiritual shrine's sense
first year in the University, time to diminish.
I am waiting! Even if I knew you 'll never be
of my exclusion in this fog's heart wedges
My margin of this February will write, maybe
of your beloved one, the waves of souls edges.
(I made an acquaintance with sailors
of a cargo-boat, they tell me stories
about terrible typhoons, wild sharks
of Indian Ocean, routes upon maps.)
In three months I learned the language well
And every night, February's visitor you were
Ideally solitaire of my life's kind dream
keeping me company, a light that will never beam.
February, fog, people walk in Piazza Liberta
a trattoria, company of students, of you I think
I am writing this letter; you, of my words trace,
inside the fog, are calling me, with an embrace.
-
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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January
the tinkle of porcelain spoons
clink of glasses
and click of chopsticks
turn over december to january
the old year
just a few minutes ago
a flash of the meteor
gone and lost
in another part of the mind
now all alighted with
the new year, new plans
new wishes and hopes
january
the new child
brings fresh hope and joy
all of a sudden all the attention
is focussed on the new days
the old year slowly, slowly,
just another memory
a dead relativel
inspired by
In January
Only one cell in the frozen hive of night
is lit, or so it seems to us:
this Vietnamese café, with its oily light,
its odors whose colorful shapes are like flowers.
Laughter and talking, the tick of chopsticks.
Beyond the glass, the wintry city
creaks like an ancient wooden bridge.
A great wind rushes under all of us.
The bigger the window, the more it trembles.
Ted Kooser
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Bets Then...Were Off
I bet when you came,
You did not expect this.
I can see it in your eyes.
You lick your lips...
As you tremble!
I bet when you came,
You did not expect this?
Exposing myself,
With direct comments.
Saying that I wish,
We would undress,
And have sex!
I bet when you came,
You did not expect this?
But you did expect something.
I saw that hot and wanting to be bothered look,
Immediately.
'I bet when I came,
You did not expect to see me like this,
At all? ' She said.
And I could say nothing,
Since all bets then...were off!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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People Expect Too Much From Me
aug,11,2010
people expect me to be perfect,
because i'm smart,
people expect me to get good grades,
because of all the hard work i put in,
people expect me to have my own business,
because i can be talented and creative,
people expect me to be a push over,
rather than a girl who speaks her mind,
people expect me to be something i'm not,
but all i can be is only myself,
people expect me to deal with life,
i can only deal with it the best i can,
people expect me to handle more than i can,
but who is it really for or what do i have to prove?
people expect me to be who they want,
but did they ever stop to think of what i wanted?
poem by Mona Martinez
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I have to admit, in January and February I was in an absolute fuzz. I had no one on board. It wasn't that I didn't know what I was doing, but we didn't have all the pieces put together.
quote by Donna Shalala
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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