Parlez-Vous Francais?
Caesar, the amplifier voice, announces
Crime and reparation. In the barber shop
Recumbent men attend, while absently
The barber doffs the naked face with cream.
Caesar proposes, Caesar promises
Pride, justice, and the sun
Brilliant and strong on everyone,
Speeding one hundred miles an hour across the land:
Caesar declares the will. The barber firmly
Planes the stubble with a steady hand,
While all in barber chairs reclining,
In wet white faces, fully understand
Good and evil, who is Gentile, weakness and command.
And now who enters quietly? Who is this one
Shy, pale, and quite abstracted? Who is he?
It is the writer merely, with a three-day beard,
His tiredness not evident. He wears no tie.
And now he hears his enemy and trembles,
Resolving, speaks: "Ecoutez! La plupart des hommes
Vivent des vies de desespoir silenciuex,
Victimes des intentions innombrables. Et ca
Cet homme sait bien. Les mots de cette voix sont
Des songes et des mensonges. Il prend choix,
Il prend la volonte, il porte la fin d'ete.
La guerre. Ecoutez-moi! Il porte la mort."
He stands there speaking and they laugh to hear
Rage and excitement from the foreigner.
poem by Delmore Schwartz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'll Get One Tomorrow
Barber, barber, come and get me;
Hairy torrents irk and fret me.
Hair and hair again appears;
And climbs like ivy round my ears.
Hair across my collar gambols;
Down my neck it wayward ambles.
Ever down it trip it tickles;
Yes, where it trips it tickles.
Barber dear I wish I knew;
Why i do not visit you.
Why I grudge the minutes ten;
In your smiling den.
Why I choose to choke on hair;
Rather than to mount your chair.
Men no busier than I;
Weekly to your office hie.
Men no busier than myself;
Confront the armory on your shelf;
Men no wealthier than me;
Gladly meet your modest fee.
And for a fraction of a dollar;
Keep the jungle off their collar.
I alone am shy and flustered;
Solitary, cowardly custard.
Shaggy as a prize angore;
Overrun with the creeping flora.
Barber, barber, you’re in luck;
The bell has rung, the hour has struck.
Sloth strong, the hair is strong;
I cannot stand it any long.
Barber, barber here I come;
Shake up the odorous bay rum.
Bring on your shears your scythes, your snippers;
Bring on your crisp electric driers.
Employ a dozen extra sweepers;
Bring giant harvesters and reapers.
I warn you a bumper crop;
Waits to overwhelm your shop.
Braber, barber, be verbose;
Be anything but clip me close.
Leave me razored, leave me scissored
Leave me hairless, as a lizard;
Barber, barber, single and scald;
Barber can’t you make me bald?
I will be the happiest of men;
And never think of you again.
poem by Ogden Nash
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Haircut.
The Barber came to cut my hair,
I told him that it wasn't fair.
My hair had done him no harm,
Without it I would loose my charm.
The Barber he grinned a silly grin,
Said to cut my hair would be no sin.
That I should face it like a man,
But I'm a coward and away I ran.
Do you like sitting in a Barbers chair,
With him chopping away your lovely hair.
Once my head was full of curls,
Covering my face with twisty twirls.
But then the Barber came my way,
I was a child, I had no say.
Off came my curls one by one,
The Barber seemed to have great fun.
Now I'm old and very grey,
I'm nearly bald, my hairs gone away.
But when I see a Barbers chair,
I feel the loss of my curly hair.
You know I truly rue the day,
When that first Barber came my way.
poem by Bernard Shaw
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This Morning At The Barbershop
This morning at the barbershop,
a barber is busy with the hair
of a much older grey haired man
that he is trimming neatly
and a young man
sits in one of the barber’s chairs.
When I sit down to wait
the young man rises
turning to me
and asks if he can cut my hair.
I was happy to get attention immediately
while the other barber was finishing
with the older man,
as he looks to finely tuned to me.
My hair was smartly cut
with a pair of scissors
and the young barber
held his fingers
to determine the length
and I wanted it shorter
than just cutting off the ends
while the other barber
first took a hair blower
from a drawer,
sprayed something over his own hair
before he started to blow it in the mirror
and he then said
that he cannot go
to the bank to wait in line
with a head looking like Tut’s ass
and I saw my locks
falling dark brown
with dots of grey around me
and saw the other barber
combing his long hair
and smiled at myself
about the vanity of humanity
while I looked at myself
and were starting to look much better.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Caesar: Et tu, Brute? — Then fall, Caesar!
line from The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, Act III, Scene 1, script by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Motor Car
The motor car is sullen, like a thing that should not be;
The motor car is master of Smart Society.
’Twas born of sweated genius and collared by a clown;
’Twas planned by Retribution to ride its riders down.
And straight for Caesar’s Column,
It runs to Caesar’s Column,
Last section, Caesar’s Column
To ride its riders down!
The motor car is shame-struck, for greed and misery,
For mad and hopeless self-lust, and the sins that need not be.
The motor car is vicious, for its conscience makes it so,
It aye would smash the victims while it runs the riders low.
And straight for Caesar’s Column,
Its goal is Caesar’s Column,
It longs for Caesar’s Column
To lay its riders low.
The motor car is maddened like a horse that’s had a fright,
The shameful day behind it and the Coming of the Night!
It flees across the country and it flees back to the town
And straight for Caesar’s Column to run its riders down.
And straight for Caesar’s Column,
What ho! for Caesar’s Column!
Hurrah! for Caesar’s Column!
To seal its riders down.
The motor car is reckless like a gambler losing fast;
The motor car’s in terror of the Future—and the Past;
The motor car is worn out and has passed Sin’s boundary by,
And is bound for Caesar’s Column where to pile its riders high.
It’s bound for Caesar’s Column
And marked for Caesar’s Column,
And doomed for Caesar’s Column
To pile its riders high.
The motor car is brainless, and scornful of all tears,
Its dust is in our faces, its giggle in our ears,
Its harsh laugh is the last laugh of the last lost soul alone,
’Tis nearing Caesar’s Column to set self-damned in stone.
Change here for Caesar’s Column!
All out for Caesar’s Column!
Past Hope—and Caesar’s Column
To lodge self-damned in stone.
I don’t know how ’twill happen, or when ’twill come to pass,
But folk shall yet pass sanely by river, tree and grass;
By homesteads and farm wagons, they’ll ride each pleasant mile,
And back from Caesar’s Column where the world went mad awhile.
And back from Caesar’s Column
With lessons from the Column;
Grown sane at Caesar’s Column
To save the world awhile.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Black Caesar
Black Caesar was Australia's first bush ranger
And as his name suggests he was not white
And when caught up with by those who pursued him
He did not go down without a good fight.
A convict who was brought out in the first fleet
And a victim of harsh British justice and rule
Transported into exile and confinement
Man to his own kind can be very cruel.
Black Caesar was a victim of discrimination
And though he is seen as one who died in shame
Those who are sinned against can become outlaws
And for his crimes he was not all to blame.
You will find some good in the worst of people
And some turn to crime because of circumstance
And why condemn a fellow like Black Caesar
When the poor bugger never had a chance.
Black Caesar was Australia's first bush ranger
When to be poor was looked on as a sin
And worse for him he was born with the wrong colour
You well might say that he wasn't meant to win.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Little Caesar
Ten million stories in the city, ten million backs against the wall
Desperations out tonight, you can cut it with a knife
Everybody wants to have it all
Well they tell you that the world is rough
But they never rocked it hard enough
Chorus:
Hey little caesar, nobody messing with you
Hey little caesar, go show em what you can do
Nobody said that it was pretty, you havent got a penny or a prayer
You know its gonna be a fight, if you wanna see your name in lights
Aint nobody gives a damn out there
Well you got your guts, you got your pride
But youll never let them see inside
Chorus
(spoken:)
Well you dont believe in the books and rules
cause you just believe in what you know is cool
Well they tell you that the world is rough
But they never rocked it hard enough - I cant hear you
They just dont understand, you gotta fight to be a man
Chorus
Hey little caesar, oh yeah, thats what it is
Hey little caesar, yeah
song performed by by Kiss
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Caesar
Pop/schermerhorn
People of america
I bring you a great army
To preserve peace
In our empire
Throw them to the lions
Darling, let us go to the banouet hall...
There will be a great feast tonight!
Who are these christians?
What is this strange religion?
I ve heard it said they turn the other cheek
Ha ha ha ha
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Thumbs down
10 pieces of gold for every man
Hail caesar hail caesar
Grapes from sicily
Silks from asia minor
All the tea in china
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Who are these christians?
Turn the other cheek...
Ha ha ha ha ha
Two thumbs down
The christians are restless
Why not let them worship their god?
No one believes in the old gods
How tiresome...attending the rituals
Paying lip service to the portents
Burning incense at their shrine
No one believes in the old gods
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Throw them to the lions
Hahahahahaha
The roman empire the glory of rome
Hail all hail
Caesar...caesar...beware beware the ides of march
Who is this man?
Caesar...he is but a soothsayer...he is old
And his brain is addled... pay him no mind!
Throw him to the lions! ha ha ha ha ha ha
Hail caesar! emperor of rome hail caesar!
Caesar...caesar...beware the ides of march
Eh? ! who is this man?
Caesar...he is but an old soothsayer...addled in his brain
Pay him no mind
Throw him to the lions! ha ha ha ha
Throw him to the lions!
No one believes in the old gods...
The empire is tired...caesar will rest now.
We depart for my chambers
Come darling
Yes caesar
Caesar will rest now
Hail rome hail caesar hail
Put him in the fiery pit
Ha ha ha ha!
song performed by by Iggy Pop
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Barber's Shop
Conversations in a barber's shop,
And like a clay tile in the land of your muse;
But walk upon it and tell me how you feel,
And like the state of the mind and the state of the things around us;
But, i will always love you.
The wheels,
The colour of beryl,
And of the same likeness!!
But to be designed like abarber's shop in your township;
For, one wheel was inside heother wheel,
And to be designed like the fruit of love was the nature of things!
All the same, we all need the barber's shop.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Hail Caesar
He be the count of monte cristo
Could be a quake any day
Maybe somebody from siam
Begin the era of a new rage
Keeps lickin all the honey
Chewin up the fat he rakes
Instead of sending to the lions
They cover him with praise
All hail caesar
Hail! hail!
Down at the epicenter
Things started heatin up
Rockin up the richter scale
Swingin in the chariot
Around and around we go
The senators rehearse the tale
Starring in the coliseum
Tied upon the rack
Up comes the thumb of caesar
To stab you in the back
All hail caesar
Hail! hail!
Down at the epicenter
Things started heatin up
Rockin up the richter scale
Swingin in the chariot
Around and around we go
The senators rehearse the tale
Watch out caesar
I said hail
Hail! hail!
All hail caesar
Hail! hail!
(? ? ? ? )
(you did)
song performed by by AC-DC
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Antony: And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Ate by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice
Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war.
line from The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, Act III, Scene 1, script by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Barber
I'd like to be a barber, and learn to shave and clip,
Calling out, 'Next please! and pocketing my tip.'
All day I'd hear my scissors going, 'Snip, Snip, Snip;'
I'd lather people's faces, and their noses I would grip
While I shaved most carefully along the upper lip.
But I wouldn't be a barber if ...
The razor was to slip.
Would you?
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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To Mrs. Mary Caesar
I read in your delighted Face,
The Nuptial Bands are ty'd:
From me congratulate her Grace,
Young Portland's lovely Bride.
Tell her, an humble, artless Muse
Would hail the happy Pair;
But that, like Flow'rs by deadly Dews,
Her Strains are damp'd by Care.
Those whom the tuneful Nine inspire,
Have now a spacious Field:
To them I must resign the Lyre,
To none in Wishes yield.
May Prudence still the Fair attend,
Who, with distinguish'd Taste,
In Caesar early chose a Friend,
With ev'ry Virtue grac'd:
Who back a thousand Years may trace,
And her Descent maintain,
From Ademar's illustrious Race,
Ally'd to Charlemain.
poem by Mary Barber
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Pure Woman
Sometimes when I pass the dressing shop
in between the barber's and butcher's junk
a bride in a show case lean and beautiful
smiles at all and never cries
never speaks and sleeps.
A bouquet in her hand
the flowers that never withers
and a clear white lace she wears
that will never fade.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Caesar: Of all the wonders that I yet have heard, it seems to me most strange that men should fear; seeing that death, a necessary end, will come when it will come.
line from The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, Act II, Scene 2, script by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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Caesar: Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.
line from The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, Act II, Scene 2, script by William Shakespeare (1599)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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This is Red Barber speaking. Let me say hello to you all.
quote by Red Barber
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The real point is that totalitarian regimes have claimed jurisdiction over the whole person, and the whole society, and they don't at all believe that we should give unto Caesar that which is Caesar's and unto God that which is God's.
quote by Jeane Kirkpatrick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Render unto caesar the things which are Caesar's.
Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's.