What kind of crops do they raise in the towns? Only Grand Dukes, Bolsheviks and drunkards!
quote by Ernest Poole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dukes Up
So you wonder how
Get em up, put em up
Get your dukes up now
Got no time no money, thats why
Get em up, put em up
Get your dukes up now
Soda fountain crowd
Button up, shut em up
Gettin fed up now
Got no time, no money, thats why
Get em up, put em up
Get your dukes up, now
song performed by by Modest Mouse
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Misplaced Or Progressive Justice
Great temples are nowhere in the concrete jungle of the town;
Temple sculptures are nowhere in beach statues or park trees;
Peace and beauty are nowhere in noise and pollution by traffics;
Spiritualists or poets are nowhere among fanatics and drunkards!
Are population and pollution by vehicles the progress of town?
Is God proving to be everywhere by vanishing temples in towns?
Can peace and beauty resurrect in the busy towns of progress?
Who can rectify a town full of misplacements in the modern times?
For developing backward classes, opportunities for others are denied;
Even in the court, justice renders judgements based on this method!
Can social justice be attained by punishing generations of other classes?
Is it not just giving opportunities to all poor men in education and jobs?
Justice has become just ice in many judgements pronounced here;
Chasm has widened between classes dividing the society into pieces!
Misplacement of people in all walks of life has deprived efficiency too.
Can this kind of misplacement or progressive justice develop a nation?
poem by Ramesh T A
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Kicks only raise dust and not crops from the earth.
aphorism by Rabindranath Tagore from Stray Birds (1916), translated by Rabindranath Tagore
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Gonna Raise Hell
Words and music by rick nielsen
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
Ambition? ha!
If all Ive heard is true,
Theres nothin much I can do
To change the world, its irreversible.
But in what it lacks,
Its got a taste that smacks of somethin irresistable.
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
Submission? yes!
Now I wont name names, and a secrets a secret,
But a hints a hint or a clue.
You really wanna know, you really wanna go,
Theres only two things you got to do.
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
Mother, mother.
Mother, mother.
Mother, mother.
My mission? ah, yes!
Everybody hear? everybody here,
Its a fate I all agree.
Sometimes you win, I never lose,
To me its no mystery.
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
Gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell, gonna raise hell.
(repeat to coda)
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But as a young kid, I never did, really have an ambition to be a farmer. I never thought, gee, I would like to farm, and I want to raise these crops. I didn't quite know what I wanted to do.
quote by Sam Donaldson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Bolsheviks started not just on the killing of private property; they were trying to abolish money itself.
quote by Anatoly Chubais
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Suicide In The Village
Ah the drum sound,
The owl takes to flight.
Far away from civilization,
The deadly cult sound.
Bring to me the laborers tool,
Brig to me the drunkard's bottle.
Let appease the wrath of the gods,
No abomination has been cause.
There lies the disgraceful child,
From the womb of a holy mother.
Butchered to pieces in his own greed,
Lifeless leaflet, bring to me the drunkards bottle
Let appease the gods,
Distasteful wind of the night,
Send our plight to the gods,
Hence no calamities shall befall.
Bring to me the drunkards bottle,
Oh asaase efua.
Let not our feet be soiled,
From the fury of your wrath.
Bring to me the drunkards bottle,
Oh otwediapon nyame
Hear our pitiful soul cry out,
Let not your wrath, thunder us to death.
Ah, I say bring to me the drunkards bottle,
Oh, hmm bring to me the laborers tool.
This night has been defiled,
Let not our calamities see daylight.
poem by Samuel Donkor
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My grand dad
I remember you grand dad
Back since I was only three
I remember you granddad
How much you adored me
I remember you grand dad
How you made me smile
I remember you grand dad
You made my toddler years worthwhile
I remember you grand dad
Your lovely smell of tobacco
I remember you grand dad
The love for others you would show
I remember you grand dad
When I came to see you, you would give me a jellybean
I remember you grand dad
You always made me feel like a queen
I remember you grand dad
And I miss you everyday
Ramshackle
You've been so long
Your blind eyes are gone
Your old bones are on their own
So take off your coat
Put a song in your throat
Let the dead-beats pound all around
We will go
Nowhere we know
We don't have to talk at all
Hand me downs
Flypaper towns
Stuck together
One and all
The bargains you drive
Buckets and bags
And all your belongings
Your train's in the sand
Ramshackle land
Let the rats watch the races
We will go
Nowhere we know
'Til we find our one and all
Hand me downs
Flypaper towns
Stuck together
One and all
Praises get spent
Your trick face is bent
Pigsties and prizes
'Cause there's no kind of 'well'
You're suiting yourself
You leave yourself behind
We will go
Nowhere we know
'Til we find our one and all
Your hand me downs
Flypaper towns
Stuck together
One and all
song performed by by Beck from Odelay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bonaparte Raise On Heap Of Bones Apart!
One NAPOLEON BONAPARTE,
Raise above all,
Shattering million people's bones apart!
One Hitler can raise above all,
On foolishness of millions of butlers
One Christ can raise above all,
If can raise above million thrusts
of hunger, lust and thirst!
One Buddha can raise,
If he can remain completely Shuddha
One Ashoka can raise to become Ashoka, only on
The heap of million HEART'S shoka!
One love symbol Taj Mahal can raise only on tombless graves millions of love!
One Shankara can raise,
Killing one's Ahankara!
One Vivekananda can raise,
Finding the roots of Viveka and Ananda!
One SOUL can raise,
Only if can raise above
All that is untrue and thoughts that are foul!
AUM AUM AUM
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Farmers in Missouri and across the country must comply with a variety of federal, state, and local regulations as they grow the crops and raise the livestock that we depend on to feed the nation and the world.
quote by Ike Skelton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Dance
they were dancing in circles
some with huge bellies
and there was this emaciated figure
trying to fit in
learning the steps of the dance
others complain
for he is not like all of them
the weakest link
perhaps
and they do not want to spoil
the dance
of drunkards
i wonder why, the tall lean figure
emaciated as he is
still wants to fit in and pretend
that he is enjoying the dance
of the drunkards?
again, another astonishing study
of weird human behavior
that liking to be in.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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That Was Us
Twenty dollars out of mama's purse
Bought us a tank of gas
And some Redman Tobacco
When we were just teenage kids.
Me and my old buddy Leroy
We'd go drivin' around
If there was trouble to be found
Oh, man we dang sure did.
Cuttin' donuts in the fields
So old man Smith would call the cops
He'd come runnin' out with his shotgun
'Cause we were runnin' down his crops
And I reckon he's still wonderin'
Who that was, but that was us.
Now some of these local boys moved on
But we never changed a bit
Never had a lick of sense
Least that's what some folks said.
Then finally we turned old enough
To buy our own beer
Don't remember much about that year
Juct lucky we ain't dead.
Somebody said they saw some boys
With a truck looked just like mine
Tryin' to pull down that old water tank
That sits out on the county line.
And people wonder why it leans
The way it does, that was us.
--- Instrumental ---
Seems like small towns never change
But things get tough when times get hard
They said when he got sick
Old man Smith would a lost that farm.
'Cause he was gettin' way behind
On all his bills
But somebody brought his crops in
From the field.
Yeah, and folks around here
Still wonder who that was.
That was us.
That was us.
That was us.
That was us.
That was us...
song performed by by Randy Travis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The rich plunder
The poor are the plants thriving on rain.
The rich are the crops under irrigations.
The irrigated crops erode the earth.
The enriched people plunder the world.
11.08.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Raise Your Hand
Great, great broad, miss janis joplin, please!
If there's something you need,
Hon that you've never, ever, ever had.
And i know you've never had it.
Oh, honey, don't you just sit there crying,
Don't just sit there feeling bad.
No, no, no.
You'd better get up,
Now, don't you understand ?
And raise you hand.
I said, raise, raise your hand.
You know i'm standing about, yes i am.
And i want to give you all my love.
Oh, won't you open up,
I said, open up your heart.
Please let me try.
You'd better be good.
Don't ya understand ?
Raise your hand.
I said, i wanna see it up in the air, babe,
Right here, right now, yeah!
Whoaaaah, yeah!
If you ever, ever need me,
Honey why won't you come and tell me so now ?
Baby if you want to give all of my loving,
I want to let it go.
You'd better be good, don't you understand,
I said raise it, raise it, raise it, raise it,
Raise.
Honey honey what it was
Honey honey what it was
Honey honey what it was
Whoaaaah
Whoaaaah
Whoaaaah
Whoaaaah
Alright
Alright
Raise your hand 'cause i want you to come along,
Raise your hand 'cause i want you to move
Honey groove
Come along, baby
Come, said come, come on,
Come, come, come on,
Come, come, come on,
Come, come, come on,
Hey now now now now
Hey now now now now
Raise your hand
Raise your hand
Raise your hand, yeah,
Raise your hand, yeah,
Raise your hand
Raise your hand
Raise your hand
Raise your hand
Raise your hand, yeah,
Raise your hand, yeah,
Raise your hand, yeah,
Raise your hand, yeah yeah yeah,
You gotta, hey hey,
You gotta, hey hey,
Raise your hand
Raise your hand
Raise your hand
Raise your hand, alright! awww!
Yeah!!
Alright, thank you.
song performed by by Janis Joplin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That's not all our crops can do. We are also learning how to transform plants into factories. We can now raise plants that will create enzymes that would otherwise be created in chemical factories.
quote by Thomas Carper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Vacant Eyes
standing in line
for a cup of soup,
second hand coats,
and worn out shoes.
the hands that
built your houses,
paved your roads,
worked your steel mills...
harvested your crops,
worked on your cars,
built your cities and towns,
your stores and your churches.
tremble with the cold,
hold the steaming cup
like a prayer...
wipe the corners of vacant eyes!
poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Train Window
Small towns
Crawling out of their green shirts…
Tubercular towns
Coughing a little in the dawn…
And the church…
There is always a church
With its natty spire
And the vestibule—
That's where they whisper:
Tzz-tzz… tzz-tzz… tzz-tzz…
How many codes for a wireless whisper—
And corn flatter than it should be
And those chits of leaves
Gadding with every wind?
Small towns
From Connecticut to Maine:
Tzz-tzz… tzz-tzz…tzz-tzz…
poem by Lola Ridge
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It's Grand
It's grand to be a squatter
And sit upon a post,
And watch your little ewes and lambs
A-giving up the ghost.
It's grand to be a "cockie"
With wife and kids to keep,
And find an all-wise Providence
Has mustered all your sheep.
It's grand to be a Western man,
With shovel in your hand,
To dig your little homestead out
From underneath the sand.
It's grand to be a shearer
Along the Darling-side,
And pluck the wool from stinking sheep
That some days since have died.
It's grand to be a rabbit
And breed till all is blue,
And then to die in heaps because
There's nothing left to chew.
It's grand to be a Minister
And travel like a swell,
And tell the Central District folk
To go to -- Inverell.
It's grand to be a socialist
And lead the bold array
That marches to prosperity
At seven bob a day.
It's grand to be unemployed
And lie in the Domain,
And wake up every second day --
And go to sleep again.
It's grand to borrow English tin
To pay for wharves and docks
And then to find it isn't in
The little money-box.
It's grand to be a democrat
And toady to the mob,
For fear that if you told the truth
They'd hunt you from your job.
It's grand to be a lot of things
In this fair Southern land,
But if the Lord would send us rain,
That would, indeed, be grand!
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
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What we don't talk about enough is Ohio's unique and remarkable quality of life. We are a state of cities, small towns and growing suburbs where life is affordable and destinations within reach. There is no better place to raise a family.