En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Everything I did, all my actions, all of the problems I had I dedicate to God and to Chile, because I kept Chile from becoming Communist.

quote by Augusto Pinochet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

You Cant Win

(from the wiz)
You cant win
You cant break even
And you cant get out of the game
People kee sayin
Things are gonna change
But they look us like
Youre stayin the same
You cant win
Get over your head
And you only have yourself to blame
You cant win chile
(you cant win chile)
You aint break even
And you cant get out of the game
You cant win
The world keeps movin
And youre standin far behind
People keep sayin
Thingsll get better
(just to ease your state of mind)
(so you lean back, and you smoke that smoke)
(and you drink your glass of wine)
So you cant win, chile
You cant break even
And you cant get out of the game
You cant win, you cant win no way
If your story stays the same
(you aint winnin),
No, no,
(but its nice to see you)
(Im awfully glad you came)
(better cool it cause
It aint abour losin)
Then the world has got no shame
You cant win, chile
You cant break even
You cant get out of the game
You cant win
You cant break even
Aint the way its supposed to be
(youll be spendin),
No, no
(your little bit of money)
While someone else rides for free
(learn your lesson), ooh,
(refuel your mind)
(before someone blows out your flame)
You cant win, chile. no!
You cant win
You cant win, chile. no!
You cant win
You cant win, chile. no!
You cant win
You cant win, chile. no!
You cant win
You cant win, chile
You cant break even
And you cant get out of the game
You cant get out of the game
You cant get out (ugh!) of the game
No, no...

song performed by by Michael Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

The Chant Of The Cross-Bearing Child

I bear dis cross dis many a mile.
O de cross-bearin' chile--
De cross-bearin' chile!

I bear dis cross 'long many a road
Wha' de pink ain't bloom' an' de grass done mowed.
O de cross-bearin' chile--
De cross-bearin' chile!

Hits on my conscience all dese days
Fo' ter bear de cross ut de good Lord lays
On my po' soul, an' ter lif my praise.
O de cross-bearin' chile--
De cross-bearin' chile!

I 's nigh-'bout weak ez I mos' kin be,
Yit de Marstah call an' He say,--'You 's free
Fo' ter 'cept dis cross, an' ter cringe yo' knee
To no n'er man in de worl' but me!'
O de cross-bearin' chile--
De cross-bearin' chile!

Says you guess wrong, ef I let you guess--
Says you 'spec' mo', an'-a you git less:--
Says you go eas', says you go wes',
An' whense you fine de road ut you like bes'
You betteh take ch'ice er any er de res'!
O de cross-bearin' chile--
De cross-bearin' chile!

He build my feet, an' He fix de signs
Dat de shoe hit pinch an' de shoe hit bines
Ef I on'y w'ah eights an-a wanter w'ah nines;
I hone fo' de rain, an' de sun hit shines,
An' whilse I hunt de sun, hits de rain I fines.--
O-a trim my lamp, an-a gyrd my lines!
O de cross-bearin' chile--
De cross-bearin' chile!

I wade de wet, an' I walk de dry:
I done tromp long, an' I done clim high;
An' I pilgrim on ter de jasper sky,
An' I taken de resk fo' ter cas' my eye
Wha' de Gate swing wide an' de Lord draw nigh,
An' de Trump hit blow, an' I hear de cry,--
'You lay dat cross down by an' by!--
O de Cross-bearin' Chile--
Do Cross-bearin' Chile!'

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Voodoo Chile Slight Return

Well, I stand up next to a mountain
And I chop it down with the edge of my hand.
Well, I stand up next to a mountain,
Chop it down with the edge of my hand.
Well, I pick up all the pieces and make an island,
Might even raise just a little sand.
cause Im a voodoo chile,
Lord knows Im a voodoo chile, baby.
I didnt mean to take up all your sweet time,
Ill give it right back to you one of these days.
I said I didnt mean to take up all your sweet time,
Ill give it right back one of these days.
And if I dont meet you no more in this world
Then ill, Ill meet you in the next one and dont be late, dont be late.
cause Im a voodoo chile, voodoo chile,
Lord knows Im a voodoo chile, hey hey hey.
Im a voodoo chile, baby.

song performed by by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Possession

Whose little lady is you, chile,
Whose little gal is you?
What's de use o' kiver'n up yo' face?
Chile, dat ain't de way to do.
Lemme see yo' little eyes,
Tek yo' little han's down nice,
Lawd, you wuff a million bills,
Huh uh, chile, dat ain't yo' price.

Honey, de money ain't been made
Dat dey could pay fu' you;
'T ain't no use a-biddin'; you too high
Fu' de riches' Jap er Jew.
Lemme see you smilin' now,
How dem teef o' yo'n do shine,
An' de t'ing dat meks me laff
Is dat all o' you is mine.

How 's I gwine to tell you how I feel,
How's I gwine to weigh yo' wuff?
Oh, you sholy is de sweetes' t'ing
Walkin' on dis blessed earf.
Possum is de sweetes' meat,
Cidah is the nices' drink,
But my little lady-bird
Is de bes' of all, I t'ink.

Talk erbout 'uligion he'pin' folks
All thoo de way o' life,
Gin de res' 'uligion, des' gin me
You, my little lady-wife.
Den de days kin come all ha'd,
Den de nights kin come all black,
Des' you tek me by de han',
An' I'll stumble on de track.

Stumble on de way to Gawd, my chile,
Stumble on, an' mebbe fall;
But I'll keep a-trottin', while you lead on,
Pickin' an' a-trottin', dat's all.
Hol' me mighty tight, dough, chile,
Fu' hit's rough an' rocky lan',
Heaben 's at de en', I know,
So I's leanin' on yo' han'.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Highway Chile

Yeah, his guitar slung across his back
His dusty boots is his cadillac
Flamin hair just a blowin in the wind
Aint seen a bed in so long its a sin
He left home when he was seventeen
The rest of the world he had longed to see
But everybody knows the boss
A rolling stone who gathers no moss
But youd probably call him a tramp
But it goes a little deeper than that
Hes a highway chile, yeah
Now some people say he had a girl back home
Who messed around and did him pretty wrong
They tell me it kinda hurt him bad
Kinda made him feel pretty sad
I couldnt say what went through his mind
Anyway, he left the world behind
But everybody knows the same old story,
In love and war you cant lose in glory
Now youd probably call him a tramp
But I know it goes a little deeper than that
Hes a highway chile
Walk on brother, yeah
One more brother
His old guitar slung across his back
His dusty boots is his cadillac
Flamin hair just a blowin in the wind
Aint seen a bed in so long its a sin
Now you may call him a tramp
But I know it goes a little deeper than that
Hes a highway chile
Walk on brother
Dont let no one stop you
Highway chile
Yeah yeah yeah
Highway chile
Go on down the highway
Highway chile
Yeah yeah yeah
Highway chile

song performed by by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

You Cant Win

(charlie smalls)
You cant win
You cant break even
And you cant get out of the game
People keep sayin
Things are gonna change
But they look just like theyre staying the same
You get in
Way over your head
And youve only got yourself to blame
You cant win, chile
You cant break even
And you cant get out of the game
You cant win
The world keeps movin
And youre standin far behind
People keep sayin
Things ll get better
Just to ease your state of mind
So you lay back
And you smoke that smoke
And you drink your glass of wine
You cant win, chile
You cant break even
And you cant get out of the game
You cant win
You cant win
No way if your story stays the same
You aint winnin
But its nice to see you
Im awfully glad you came
Better cool it
cause it aint about losin
Then the world has got no shame
You cant win, chile
You cant break even
And you cant get out of the game
You cant win
You cant win
You cant break even
Aint the way
Its supposed to be
Youll be spendin
Your little bit of money
While someone else ride free
Learn your lesson, refuel your mind
Before some turkey blows out your flame

song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Green Chile

I prefer red chile over my eggs
and potatoes for breakfast.
Red chile ristras decorate my door,
dry on my roof, and hang from eaves.
They lend open-air vegetable stands
historical grandeur, and gently swing
with an air of festive welcome.
I can hear them talking in the wind,
haggard, yellowing, crisp, rasping
tongues of old men, licking the breeze.

But grandmother loves green chile.
When I visit her,
she holds the green chile pepper
in her wrinkled hands.
Ah, voluptuous, masculine,
an air of authority and youth simmers
from its swan-neck stem, tapering to a flowery collar,
fermenting resinous spice.
A well-dressed gentleman at the door
my grandmother takes sensuously in her hand,
rubbing its firm glossed sides,
caressing the oily rubbery serpent,
with mouth -watering fulfillment,
fondling its curves with gentle fingers.
Its bearing magnificent and taut
as flanks of a tiger in mid-leap,
she thrusts her blade into
and cuts it open, with lust
on her hot mouth, sweating over the stove,
bandanna round her forehead,
mysterious passion on her face
as she serves me green chile con carne
between soft warm leaves of corn tortillas,
with beans and rice–her sacrifice
to here little prince.
I slurp form my plate
with last bit of tortilla, my mouth burns
and I hiss and drink a tall glass of cold water.

All over New Mexico, sunburned men and women
drive rickety trucks stuffed with gunny sacks
of green chile, from Belen, Beguita, Wllard, Estancia,
San Antonio y Socorro, from fields
to roadside stands, you see them roasting green chile
in screen-sided homemade barrels, and for a dollar a bag,
we relive this old, beautiful ritual again and again.

poem by Jimmy Santiago Baca
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Visitor

LITTLE lady at de do',
W'y you stan' dey knockin'?
Nevah seen you ac' befo'
In er way so shockin'.
Don' you know de sin it is
Fu' to git my temper riz
W'en I's got de rheumatiz
An' my jints is lockin'?
No, ol' Miss ain't sont you down,
Don' you tell no story;
I been seed you hangin' 'roun'
Dis hyeah te'itory.
You des come fu' me to tell
You a tale, an' I ain' — well —
Look hyeah, what is dat I smell?
Steamin' victuals? Glory!
Come in, Missy, how you do?
Come up by de fiah,
I was jokin', chile, wid you;
Bring dat basket nighah.
Huh uh, ain' dat lak ol' Mis,
Sen'in' me a feas' lak dis?
Rheumatiz cain't stop my bliss,
Case I's feelin' spryah.
Chicken meat an' gravy, too,
Hot an' still a-heatin';
Good ol' sweet pertater stew;
Missy b'lieves in treatin'.
Des set down, you blessed chile,
Daddy got to t'ink a while,
Den a story mek you smile
W'en he git thoo eatin'.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Chilian Brilliance

It is a blessing to witness,
Such bravery and commitment to brilliance.
With the comraderie of expertise.

All eyes were on Chile.
Lifting trapped miners from two thousand feet,
Below the Earth's surface to emerge as if...
This had been scripted.

More than thirty miners had spent sixty nine days,
Without knowing whether or not,
Their lives would be saved.

And as people the world over,
Watched with anticipation...
There were those in 'progressive' countries,
Doing their best to avoid and explain economic devastation.

As TV monitors above and below on Chilian soil,
Were peering to observe...
A togetherness unfold a people unspoiled.

What does this show?
As this endeavor proved to all?
It showed a people who could accomplish miracles,
To solve and achieve what was shown to be unbelieved!

All eyes were on Chile.
Lifting trapped miners from two thousand feet,
Below the Earth's surface to emerge as if...
This had been scripted.

Again this shows what Chilian people already know,
With faith and trust...
No division of politics,
Or economic conflict with a racism exposed...
Were no where to be observed,
When humanity was placed as the number one priority.

And this activity has taught,
A lesson no one could have bought!

Dedicated:
To the people of Chile.
The miners who 'were' trapped.
Their families.

'What a wonderful lesson.'
-lsp-

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

This is not the Chile we want to build.

quote by Ricardo Lagos
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Lullaby

Bedtime 's come fu' little boys.
Po' little lamb.
Too tiahed out to make a noise,
Po' little lamb.
You gwine t' have to-morrer sho'?
Yes, you tole me dat befo',
Don't you fool me, chile, no mo',
Po' little lamb.

You been bad de livelong day,
Po' little lamb.
Th'owin' stones an' runnin' 'way,
Po' little lamb.
My, but you 's a-runnin' wil',
Look jes' lak some po' folks chile;
Mam' gwine whup you atter while,
Po' little lamb.

Come hyeah! you mos' tiahed to def,
Po' little lamb.
Played yo'se'f clean out o' bref,
Po' little lamb.
See dem han's now--sich a sight!
Would you evah b'lieve dey's white?
Stan' still twell I wash 'em right,
Po' little lamb.

Jes' cain't hol' yo' haid up straight,
Po' little lamb.
Had n't oughter played so late,
Po' little lamb.
Mammy do' know whut she 'd do,
Ef de chillun's all lak you;
You 's a caution now fu' true,
Po' little lamb.

Lay yo' haid down in my lap,
Po' little lamb.
Y' ought to have a right good slap,
Po' little lamb.
You been runnin' roun' a heap.
Shet dem eyes an' don't you peep,
Dah now, dah now, go to sleep,
Po' little lamb.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Sometimes

Ye yo ye yo ye yo ye yo

Sometimes...
I don't love you anymore
I'm in love with you
I think that I'm going mad
I do
well

Meanwhile...
You been runnin' through my dome
Won't leave me alone
Ooh chile...
Why it got to be this way
gone on!

Can you tell me where

song performed by by Erykah Badu from Baduizm
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Mama, Why You Put Your Cleats On?

Mama,
Why you put your cleats on?

'Gotta keep in the run, son.
This turf is getting harder than concrete.
Gotta keep a strong pace going...
Ahead of those asleep on the streets.
I'm gonna make sure we eat.
And have a place safe enough to sleep.
That's why your mama tieing up her shoes,
With the cleats!

But mama...
Why you putting that mask on your face?

'Chile...
I gotta do what mamas do,
With a constant smile,
That protects my grace.
If I did not wear a mask...
Those in my way may detect a frown.
I've worn that for too long,
For them to trace now,
My child! '

But mama...?
Explain the shoulder pads.
I don't understand that at all.

'I'm going into those heated fields...
With those accustomed to playing hardball.
They are accustomed to leave others,
In pain, sorrow and abuse.
Mama ain't gonna put up with that.
Or use that to do nothing...
To sit home with you,
Teaching it's okay to be afraid with excuses.

And I'm certainly not the one,
Who is going to be left wounded and bruised.
Mama's gonna be the one,
Right up in the meanest face.
To leave them boo hooing too!
Now give me that bat! '

But mama...
Ain't you dressed for football?

'Chile...
When you get older,
And hopefully you will.
You're gonna learn how to dress,
For any game to be played.
Now...
Hand me that helmet.
And get out of mama's way! '

Yes, ma'am!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

The Winners Write The History

That the winners write the war histories should not be the case
For war is a tragedy a human disgrace
And the losers in war see their Country destoyed
And the war history never written by the losing side.

Look at Oliver Cromwell victorious in war
The deeds of his glory from England known far
But those who write on Cromwell they never do tell
Of one who for poor people made life Earthly hell.

To the Catholics of Ireland Cromwell was a brute
The poor rural peasants he did persecute
Yet streets in his honour distant from England today
The winners only write the history so true what they say.

Efrain Rios Montt became President of Guatemala even though he
Was guilty of serious crimes against humanity
An old man now but for his crimes yet to pay
The winners write the history it's always been that way.

Augusto Pinochet in Chile has blood on his hands
And that he may die a free man seems hard to understand
And though loathed by many in Chile for his crimes of shame
The winners write the history and their's is the fame.

I've just mentioned a few for there are many more
Who have committed crimes against humanity but like it has been said before
that the winners write the history and that's how 'twill remain
And the mistakes of the past are repeated again.

poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

I was born in ancient times, at the end of the world, in a patriarchal Catholic and conservative family. No wonder that by age five I was a raging feminist - although the term had not reached Chile yet, so nobody knew what the heck was wrong with me.

quote by Isabel Allende
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

I had brought up from Chile a contract agent whose cover was that of a newspaper publisher in Santiago, a young, very talented man, named Dave Phillips, who later on carved quite a career for himself in the agency.

quote by E. Howard Hunt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Rebel Rebel

Got your mother in a whirl
Got your mother in a whirl cause
Shes not sure if youre a boy or a girl
Hey, babe, your hairs alright
Hey, babe, lets go out tonight
You like me, and I like it all
We like dancing, and we look divine
You love bands when they play it hard
You want more, and you want it first
Put you down, say Im wrong
You tacky thing, you put them on
Rebel rebel, youve torn your dress
Rebel rebel, your face is a mess
Rebel rebel, how could they know?
Hot tramp, I love you so!
Doo doo doo-doo doo doo doo doo
(1st verse) (chorus)
-
Dont ya?
Ow
Doo doo doo-doo doo doo doo doo
Doo doo doo-doo doo doo doo doo
Rebel rebel, youve torn your dress
Rebel rebel, your face is a mess
Rebel rebel, how could they know?
I love you so much!
Youve torn your dress, your face is a mess
You cant get enough, but enough aint the test
Youve got transmission and a live wire
Got your cue lines and a handful of ludes
You wanna be there when they count up the dues
And I love your dress
Youre a juvenile success
Because your face is a mess
So how could they know?
I said, how could they know?
To what you wanna know
Calamitys child, chi-chile, chi-chile
Whered you wanna go?
Can I do for you? looks like youve been there too
cause youve torn your dress
And your face is a mess
Ooo, ooo, your face is a mess
Ooo, ooo, so how could they know?
How could they know? ha
Ha-ha

song performed by by Duran Duran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!

Little Brown Baby

Little brown baby wif spa'klin' eyes,
Come to yo' pappy an' set on his knee.
What you been doin', suh -- makin' san' pies?
Look at dat bib -- you's es du'ty ez me.
Look at dat mouf -- dat's merlasses, I bet;
Come hyeah, Maria, an' wipe off his han's.
Bees gwine to ketch you an' eat you up yit,
Bein' so sticky an sweet -- goodness lan's!
Little brown baby wif spa'klin' eyes,
Who's pappy's darlin' an' who's pappy's chile?
Who is it all de day nevah once tries
Fu' to be cross, er once loses dat smile?
Whah did you git dem teef? My, you's a scamp!
Whah did dat dimple come f'om in yo' chin?
Pappy do' know you -- I b'lieves you's a tramp;
Mammy, dis hyeah's some ol' straggler got in!

Let's th'ow him outen de do' in de san',
We do' want stragglers a-layin' 'roun' hyeah;
Let's gin him 'way to de big buggah-man;
I know he's hidin' erroun' hyeah right neah.
Buggah-man, buggah-man, come in de do',
Hyeah's a bad boy you kin have fu' to eat.
Mammy an' pappy do' want him no mo',
Swaller him down f'om his haid to his feet!

Dah, now, I t'ought dat you'd hug me up close.
Go back, ol' buggah, you sha'n't have dis boy.
He ain't no tramp, ner no straggler, of co'se;
He's pappy's pa'dner an' play-mate an' joy.
Come to you' pallet now -- go to yo' res';
Wisht you could allus know ease an' cleah skies;
Wisht you could stay jes' a chile on my breas'--
Little brown baby wif spa'klin' eyes!

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Fundamental Reggae

'fun-da-mental-ism' miss God's fun, man -
who want a God wittout a smile? ...
'fun-da-mental' send this chile mental...
me thinkin', God too He run a mile...

poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Henry Kissinger is the greatest living war criminal in the world today, with the blood of millions of people in Vietnam and Cambodia and Laos and Chile and East Timor on his hands. He will never appear in a court or be behind bars.

quote by George Galloway
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!