One of the last episodes was all about a flood. We were working in the rain till all hours, and it was muddy and it was cold and it was damp, and it was hours under the hoses. That was not pleasant. That was not pleasant.
quote by Derek Jacobi

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Is All About You
1 hour unity,
2 hours peace,
3 hours playing,
4 hours sleeping,
5 hours smiling,
6 hours living,
7 hours trusting in your muse!
For this river is mine and yours foeevers;
And, i want to be close to you always.
1 hour smiling,
2 hours learning,
3 hours thinking,
4 hours with your muse,
5 hours teaching,
6 hours working,
But, the 7th hour comes for me to sleep with you;
Because, this love is all about you! !
And, i want to be with you always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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Last Dance
Wake up! its a monday morning
No time left to say goodbye
Cant breathe and the lights are changing.
You can live your own life
Making it happen
Working on your own time
Laid back and laughin
Oh no, oh no.
Headlights, make it home by sundown
Feeling that the day is through
Return back to where you come from
You can live your own life
Making it happen
Working on your own time
Laid back and laughin
Oh no, oh no.
You wake up in the mornin
And the suns comin up.
Its been up for hours and hours and hours
And hours and hours and hours
Its been up for hours and hours and hours
And you light up the stove
And the coffee cup, its hot.
And the orange juice is cold, cold, cold
Monday morning,
Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up
Its time to go,
Time to go to work.
You can live your own life
Making it happen
Working on your own time
Laid back and laughin
Oh no, oh no.
No, no, no.
song performed by by Neil Young

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flight Delays (Life Poem)
Sympathyless disbelief when I complain again,
Delays are the balance for the glamour of flying.
Nine hours in Sao Paulo while the ATC strike,
Eight hours in Vienna while new wheel flies in,
Seven sins would be justified by this purgatory,
Six times six hours from CBB to DUB last week,
Five hours sweating in Port au Prince plastic chair,
Four hours for rain in Miami seems not so bad,
Three hours in Shannon for bomb threat search,
Two hours sitting in Seattle with mad dash in Kennedy.
One would be happier walking, swimming or driving.
poem by Ian Beckett

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Mr Pleasant
Oh mr pleasant, how is mrs pleasant?
I hope the world is treating you right,
And your heads in the air,
And youre feeling so proud,
cause youre such a success,
And the whole wide world is on your side, hey hey.
How are you today?
People say mr pleasant is good,
Mr pleasant is kind,
Mr pleasants okay,
Mr pleasant dont mind.
As long as mr pleasants all right, hey hey.
How are you today?
Hows your father, hows your mother?
Hows your sister, hows your brother?
Hows your brand, new limousine,
Twenty-four inch tv screen?
Did you like prosperity
More than you liked poverty?
Life is easier, so much easier,
Life is easier now.
Oh mr pleasant, how is mrs pleasant?
Did you know she was flirting around
With another young man,
And hes taking her out
When you have to work late?
And its not so pleasant after all, hey hey.
How are you today?
People say mr pleasant is good,
Mr pleasant is kind,
Mr pleasants okay,
Mr pleasant dont mind.
As long as mr pleasants all right, hey hey.
How are you today?
Mr pleasant is good,
Mr pleasant is kind,
Mr pleasants okay.
song performed by by Kinks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dawn
(From the train between Bologna and Milan, second class.)
Opposite me two Germans snore and sweat.
Through sullen swirling gloom we jolt and roar.
We have been here for ever: even yet
A dim watch tells two hours, two aeons, more.
The windows are tight-shut and slimy-wet
With a night's fœtor. There are two hours more;
Two hours to dawn and Milan; two hours yet.
Opposite me two Germans sweat and snore. . . .
One of them wakes, and spits, and sleeps again.
The darkness shivers. A wan light through the rain
Strikes on our faces, drawn and white. Somewhere
A new day sprawls; and, inside, the foul air
Is chill, and damp, and fouler than before. . . .
Opposite me two Germans sweat and snore.
poem by Rupert Brooke

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Pretty Halcyon Days
How pleasant to sit on the beach,
On the beach, on the sand, in the sun,
With ocean galore within reach,
And nothing at all to be done!
&nbs p;No letters to answer,
&n bsp;No bills to be burned,
&n bsp;No work to be shirked,
& nbsp;No cash to be earned,
It is pleasant to sit on the beach
With nothing at all to be done!
How pleasant to look at the ocean,
Democratic and damp; indiscriminate;
It fills me with noble emotion
To think I am able to swim in it.
To lave in the wave,
&nbs p;Majestic and chilly,
&n bsp;Tomorrow I crave;
&nb sp;But today it is silly.
It is pleasant to look at the ocean;
Tomorrow, perhaps, I shall swim in it.
How pleasant to gaze at the sailors
As their sailboats they manfully sail
With the vigor of vikings and whalers
In the days of the vikings and whale.
&nb sp;They sport on the brink
&nbs p;Of the shad and the shark;
&nb sp;If it’s windy, they sink;
&nbs p;If it isn’t, they park.
It is pleasant to gaze at the sailors,
To gaze without having to sail.
How pleasant the salt anesthetic
Of the air and the sand and the sun;
Leave the earth to the strong and athletic,
And the sea to adventure upon.
&nbs p;But the sun and the sand
  ;No contractor can copy;
&nbs p;We lie in the land
  ;Of the lotus and poppy;
We vegetate, calm and aesthetic,
On the beach, on the sand, in the sun.
poem by Ogden Nash

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The First Night
Now night comes, the first night in the grave.
O where is all the brightness that surrounded you?
Your bed is made in the cold earth.
How will you sleep tonight?
Your pillow is damp from the last rain;
nightbirds scream, scared away by the wind;
no little lamps burn for you now; only the moonlight,
cold and pale, plays on the place where you sleep.
The hours creep by-- will you sleep till daylight?
Do you, like me, hear every toll of the bell?
How can I lie peacefully and sleep for a little while
when you, my love, are in such a bad bed?
You came, you went with a light trace,
a fleeting guest in this land of earth;
Where from? Whither? We only know:
from God's hand to God's hand.
poem by Isolde Kurz

Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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An Old Man Wants Life To Be Pleasant
An old man wants life to be pleasant
He does not want to know too much
About the wars and conflicts of the world
He does not want to hear too much noise
He does not want to hear people argue
And know about other peoples quarrels
He wants life to be pleasant
He knows he will not save the world
The others will have to do that
He has done what he has done
And done it for a long time
It has made little difference
And what else he can do will make less-
He wants life to be pleasant-
Without disturbances and disorders
Without too many demands upon himself
Quiet
Able to do his own things
Not bothered
To sit at home when he wants
And walks when he wants
And talk with his wife when they both are at peace
Not to hear and know about all the problems even his own
To be pleasant
To be peaceful
Even if inside he knows its going wrong
Even if there is the pain
He wants it to be pleasant
For as long as it can be
Before its not.
poem by Shalom Freedman

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The Shorter Week
I worked for fifty hours a week,
And someone said to me,
'Don't be a serf! Throw off your chains,
And show the world you're free!'
So I cut down my working hours
And found, upon the whole,
The leisure time I had to spare
Good for my body's carking care,
And better for my soul.
I worked for forty hours a week,
And someone said to me,
'Release your bonds, you shackled slave!
Show all the world you're free!'
So I reduced my working hours
And found in leisured lull,
The more I sought to play, the more
Amusement had become a bore,
And life was rather dull.
I worked for twenty hours a week,
And someone said to me
'Awake, you mutt! Snap out of it,
And show the world you're free!'
So I cut out my working hours
And found that joy had flit.
Upon black melancholia's brink,
I sometimes used to sit and think
And sometimes merely sit.
I worked for not one hour a week,
And someone said to me,
'You lazy coot! Arise and shine!
You call this being free?'
So I resolved I'd better far
Rejoin the toiling mob.
But when I rose and looked around,
To my intense digust I found
Someone had pinched my job.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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Psycotic episode
I get this scary episode.
When voices surround me.
And eyes follow me around the room.
The episodes last a few hours.
Sometimes a day or two.
It is scary.
Even though some reality is there.
its the not knowing of fake and real.
I hate these episodes when Im mad.
Not knowing what I'm going to do next.
Will I hurt someone? I hope not.
But how does one know
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell

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Propinquity (I've Just Begun To Care)
by Gerry Goffin & Carole King
The local rock group down the street
Is trying hard to learn their song,
They serenade the weekend squire
Who just came out to mow his lawn.
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
Charcoal burning everywhere,
Rows of houses that are all the same,
And no one seems to care.
See Mrs. Gray, she's proud today
Because her roses are in bloom,
And Mr. Green, he's so serene,
He's got a TV in every room.
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
Here in Status Symbol Land,
Mothers complain about how hard life is,
And the kids just don't understand.
Creature comfort goals, they only numb my soul,
And make it hard for me to see.
Ahhh...thoughts all seem to stray to places far away,
I need a change of scenery.
Ta ta ta ta, ta ta ta ta... (etc.)
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
Charcoal burning everywhere.
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
Here in Status Symbol Land.
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
(A pleasant valley Sunday)
Another pleasant valley Sunday,
(A pleasant valley Sunday)
(fade out)
song performed by by Monkees

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Garner up pleasant thoughts in your mind, for pleasant thoughts make pleasant lives.
quote by John Wilkins

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Rain To Remember!
Rain lashed out with lightning and thunder!
For every lightning phone also rang without fail!
It continued till I switched off light and went to bed!
Next day morning some death news due to lightning came!
Storm has dissipated but rain lashed now and then;
It's raining time nothing can stop it from falling!
Today there is complete silence prevailing!
Night is cold and wind has stopped after evening
Yet rain warning is given and is expected for 24 hours!
The summer drought without rain is causing so heavy rain now!
Farming fields without rain crops are waiting for rain
A week's rain at least will make it okay now!
When there is no rain we cry for it and when it is there we don't want
Whether we say this or that rain will do the best it can when it comes!
poem by Ramesh T A

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The prospect of a long day at the beach makes me panic. There is no harder work I can think of than taking myself off to somewhere pleasant, where I am forced to stay for hours and 'have fun'.
quote by Phillip Lopate

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Evans
Once a thief, always a thief!
Once a gangster, always a gangster;
And like working 16 hours to 18 hours a day to make a living,
But, are you very young and lovely?
There comes a time to enjoy! !
But, the winter night is with you;
And, i do enjoy my summer night in Afica!
For in the ghettoes, are the pathology of the Blackman.
maybe you do have the same problems over there in your land,
And like the wild animals in the jungles of Africa!
But, the door stands open and i need to enter in,
For, i can't just walk out of this life.
A walk through Jackson Park,
With my friend called Evans to lead the way;
But, i have to take care with my muse,
And like my health in the land of peace!
However, working 16 hours to 18 hours a day to make a living.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis

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It's fun working on the set... I usually work about 10 and a half hours a day, and I also study about five of those hours. It can be tiring, but it's fun!
quote by Mila Kunis

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By working faithfully eight hours a day, you may get to be a boss and work twelve hours a day.
quote by Robert Frost

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By working faithfully eight hours a day you may eventually get to be boss and work twelve hours a day.
quote by Robert Frost

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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By working faithfully eight hours a day, you may eventually get to be a boss and work twelve hours a day.
quote by Robert Frost

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lily-Bell and Thistledown Song I
Awake! Awake! for the earliest gleam
Of golden sunlight shines
On the rippling waves, that brightly flow
Beneath the flowering vines.
Awake! Awake! for the low, sweet chant
Of the wild-birds' morning hymn
Comes floating by on the fragrant air,
Through the forest cool and dim;
Then spread each wing,
And work, and sing,
Through the long, bright sunny hours;
O'er the pleasant earth
We journey forth,
For a day among the flowers.
Awake! Awake! for the summer wind
Hath bidden the blossoms unclose,
Hath opened the violet's soft blue eye,
And awakened the sleeping rose.
And lightly they wave on their slender stems
Fragrant, and fresh, and fair,
Waiting for us, as we singing come
To gather our honey-dew there.
Then spread each wing,
And work, and sing,
Through the long, bright sunny hours;
O'er the pleasant earth
We journey forth,
For a day among the flowers.
poem by Louisa May Alcott

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