An Easter Song
a chess to be played
victories and losses
to be taken
like gentlemen
the game is his
an ultimate plan
to make us gentlemen
of the best kinds
like how he gives
himself to us
on the Cross
a pain, a loss,
an eternal joy
a perfect gentleman
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Feel The Girl
[Intro Timbaland (Ms. Jaded)]
Ladies and gentlemen
Ladies and gentlemen
(Ms. Jade) Lay lay lay ladies and gentlemen
(Ms. Jade) Ladies and gentlemen
(Ms. Jade) Ladies and gentlemen
(Ms. Jade) Lay ladies and gentlemen
(Ms. Jade) Skrip skirt skrip lay lay
(Ms. Jade) La la la lay
Earr err err
[Verse 1 Ms. Jade]
Ms. Jade's the name comin' to ruin the game
Bringin' the thunder and rain
song performed by by Ms. Jade from Girl Interrupted
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet 23
Be aware gentlemen I dare say
For all those sugar coated lies
Ladies will have it their way
No matter what they can be sly
Be aware all gentlemen kind
The secrets are not in her kiss
Such confusion you will find
You'll never be sure of this
Be aware gentlemen or regret
Those gentle words and woes
Never once show her neglect
For such pain you will know
Be aware gentlemen and wise
Ladies come with many surprise
poem by Suelynn Walters
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The Gentlemen of Dickens
The gentlemen of Dickens
Were mostly very poor,
And innocent of grammar,
And of parentage obscure;
But rich or poor or thriving,
Of high or lowly birth,
The gentlemen of Dickens
Were the grandest on the earth.
The gentlemen of Dickens,
They wore no fancy names—
Like Reginald or Percy
Fitzgerald or FitzJames;
But names for fools to laugh at,
That sound like hob-nailed boots,
Like Newman Noggs and Knubbles,
Toodles and Mr Toots.
They’d little save their kindness,
Their honesty and truth;
They mostly came embarrassed,
And stammering and uncouth;
But the gentlemen of Dickens,
Their women and their girls,
Could speak their minds if need be
To ladies and to earls.
But one who wore a title
A lesson, too, could teach:
Lord Feenix—Cousin Feenix
Of wandering legs and speech.
O he might teach a lesson
A gentleman could give,
Where he stands by his “lovely
And accomplished relative”.
The gentlemen of Dickens
Were gamblers now and then
(And looked upon the ladies,
No doubt, like other men);
And some of them were drunkards,
It cannot be denied;
But one washed all their sins away
When Sidney Carton died.
The gentlemen of Dickens
Are round us here to-day,
For their self-sacrificing
Brave spirits live for aye.
They cheer my heart and lift it,
They set my blood aglow,
For I was once a gentleman,
Though it was years ago.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Our situation has the disaffected beauty of a chess game.
Alan Moore in The league of extraordinary gentlemen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come Get Me
And as a special treat this evening
I have asked America's foremost young poet
to read his latest poem for us
[scratching by DJ Premier:]
"ladies and gentlemen.."
"Na-Na-Na-Nastradamus"
"Everybody watch him"
"ladies and gentlemen.."
"Na-Na-Na-Nastradamus"
"We-we-we came a long way"
"ladies and gentlemen.."
"Na-Na-Na-Nastradamus"
"Everybody watch him"
"ladies and gentlemen.."
"Na-Na-Na-Nastradamus"
[Nas]
Yo..
Yo.. yo..
Power and crime
song performed by by NAS from Nastradamus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Huntsmen
Three jolly gentlemen,
In coats of red,
Rode their horses
Up to bed.
Three jolly gentlemen
Snored till morn,
Their horses champing
The golden corn.
Three jolly gentlemen
At break of day,
Came clitter-clatter down the stairs
And galloped away.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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Perfect Gentleman
There is no doubt about it
Im one of a kind, baby
I am le dartagnan de coeur
As you may see, candy
And Im talkin with my eyes
And I walk in different styles
Im the genuine man!
Yes I am
I am a perfect gentleman
Yes I am
I am a perfect gentleman
Kneel down, inhale my odor
Come, kiss my hand, angel
Dare to explore my higher
Grounds
Strive to deserve me,
Ma cherie
And my winds
Surpass perfume
Im charismatic at full bloom
Im the genuine man!
Yes I am
I am a perfect gentleman
Yes I am
I am a perfect gentleman
Yes I am, I am, yes I am
(perfect)
Oh lord, what can I do
I cant resist my own
Reflection
How would possibly anyone?
Cause I am (perfect)
Yes I am (perfect)
Oh lord I am (perfect)
Yes I am
I am a perfect gentleman
Yes I am
I am a perfect gentleman
song performed by by Helloween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Golden Game
If ever there was a Golden Game
To brace the nerves, to cure repining,
To put the Dumps to flight and shame,
It's Cricket when the sun is shining!
Gentlemen, toss the foolscap by,
Gentlemen, change from books to leather!
Breathe your fill of the breeze from the hill,
Thanking Bliss for the great blue weather.
If ever there was a bag could beat
The box possessed by Miss Pandora,
'Tis that in which there cuddle neat
The tools to shape the flying Fourer.
Gentlemen, watch the purple ball!
Gentlemen, keep your wits in tether!
Take your joy with the heart of a boy
Under the dome of the big blue weather.
If ever I feel my veins abound
With zealous blood more fit for Twenty,
'Tis when upon the shaven ground
Fair Fortune gives me runs in plenty.
Gentlemen all, while sinews last,
Bat ye, bowl ye, friends together!
Play the play till the end of your day,
Mellowest mates in the big blue weather!
But ever the ancient tale is told,
And History (the jade!) repeated:
By Time, who's never over-bowled,
At last we find ourselves defeated.
Gentlemen all, though stiff we be,
Youth comes along in finest feather,
Just as keen as we all have been
Out on the turf in the great blue weather!
There's ever the deathless solace left-
To gaze at younger heroes smiting,
Of neither grit nor hope bereft,
Up to the end for victory fighting.
Gentlemen all, we taste delight,
Banished now from the stream and heather,
Calm and cool on an old camp-stool,
Watching the game in the big blue weather!
poem by Norman Rowland Gale
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The Drop In Game
Two curious monkeys sat up in a palm tree
watching two Russian men playing chess.
Everyday they watched the Russians play
until a winner was declared the best.
The next day a Russian sat alone at the table
with the chess pieces set out to play.
A monkey dropped in and sat opposite him
and a game of chess got under way.
For over a week they played each other
until the monkey won five games to three.
The next day a lone monkey sat at the table
until its friend dropped down from a tree.
For two weeks they played each other
with every game resulting in a draw.
The monkeys that sat around watching
applauded and wanted to see more.
Two more weeks passed without a winner,
but then the tropical rains began to pour.
A hurricane blew the chess set out to sea,
now chess is played on the ocean floor.
poem by Orlando Belo
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An Ancient to Ancients
Where once we danced, where once we sang,
Gentlemen,
The floors are sunken, cobwebs hang,
And cracks creep; worms have fed upon
The doors. Yea, sprightlier times were then
Than now, with harps and tabrets gone,
Gentlemen!
Where once we rowed, where once we sailed,
Gentlemen,
And damsels took the tiller, veiled
Against too strong a stare (God wot
Their fancy, then or anywhen!)
Upon that shore we are clean forgot,
Gentlemen!
We have lost somewhat of that, afar and near,
Gentlemen,
The thinning of our ranks each year
Affords a hint we are nigh undone,
That shall not be ever again
The marked of many, loved of one,
Gentlemen.
In dance the polka hit our wish,
Gentlemen,
The paced quadrille, the spry schottische,
"Sir Roger."--And in opera spheres
The "Girl" (the famed "Bohemian"),
And "Trovatore" held the ears,
Gentlemen.
This season's paintings do not please,
Gentlemen
Like Etty, Mulready, Maclise;
Throbbing romance had waned and wanned;
No wizard wields the witching pen
Of Bulwer, Scott, Dumas, and Sand,
Gentlemen.
The bower we shrined to Tennyson,
Gentlemen,
Is roof-wrecked; damps there drip upon
Sagged seats, the creeper-nails are rust,
The spider is sole denizen;
Even she who voiced those rhymes is dust,
Gentlemen!
We who met sunrise sanguine-souled,
Gentlemen,
Are wearing weary. We are old;
These younger press; we feel our rout
Is imminent to Aïdes' den,--
That evening shades are stretching out,
Gentlemen!
And yet, though ours be failing frames,
Gentlemen,
So were some others' history names,
Who trode their track light-limbed and fast
As these youth, and not alien
From enterprise, to their long last,
Gentlemen.
Sophocles, Plato, Socrates,
Gentlemen,
Pythagoras, Thucydides,
Herodotus, and Homer,--yea,
Clement, Augustin, Origen,
Burnt brightlier towards their setting-day,
Gentlemen.
And ye, red-lipped and smooth-browed; list,
Gentlemen;
Much is there waits you we have missed;
Much lore we leave you worth the knowing,
Much, much has lain outside our ken;
Nay, rush not: time serves: we are going,
Gentlemen.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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There were gentlemen and there were seamen in the navy of Charles the Second. But the seamen were not gentlemen; and the gentlemen were not seamen.
quote by Thomas B. Macaulay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Riddle
I'd like to bury all my sorrow
In some wild dream of a better tomorrow
But life is just like a game of poker
Where every second card is a Jack or a Joker,
Or is it more like a game of chess
Played out in the barren wilderness
Between a yellow dwarf wearing scarlet shoes
And a smiling poet with a weeping muse?
I'm frightened of your Gestapo kiss
Though it turns all my suffering into bliss.
Did Stalin sing the gypsy blues
When Hitler wore his blue suede shoes?
Is Jesus just a Gentile loss
With a tender swastika on an iron cross?
Will Hamlet make the headline news
Or has Shakespeare himself got something to lose?
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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Only Me
The stork was misdirected when
I was born; I should have been
one of the titled gentlemen
with wealth approaching the obscene.
The foolish bird delivered me.
By malice or by accident
into the sort of family
not known to the establishment.
Although my instincts are refined
befitting an aristocrat.
When I grew up I was to find
my father was no plutocrat.
So I was forced to earn my crust
like any other working man.
No wide estates were held in trust.
That wretched bird fouled up the plan.
I should have been a titled man
a scion of nobility.
But one must do the best one can
although ones born to poverty
The only title I can claim
is that I am a gentleman.
I’ll never be a household name.
Though I am proud to say I can
do anything a duke can do.
Except sit in the House of Lords.
I do not think I would want to
be bound to follow their accords.
An independent gentleman
is what I am content to be.
Although the stork messed up the plan
I must accept I’m only me.
(5-Nov-07)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Her Perfect Man
i want a man who reads me bedtime stories
one who sings me the lullaby
he should be full of apologies
and never ever say goodbye
i want him to know his mistakes
and always make it right
he also must never be late
on every of our dating nights
he could understand our veiws
as much as we learn theirs
rather than watching soccer preveiws
and always forgeting about us
a gentlemen who gives in everytime
even if he's not at fault
he must be hard to find
in this century's awful lot
a perfect man is playing hide and seek with me
because it seems as man are all the same
they hurt, they cheat, they always leave
oh come out already i'm tired of your game
where are you my perfect man, where you hiding?
A Holy Week Song, 1918
Now when Christ died for man his sake
A myriad men must die;
His Via Crucis they must take
And share His Calvary.
God keep ye, gallant gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
Who share Lord Jesus Christ His pain
Upon this Good Friday!
Now some shall turn and meet His gaze
And say, 'Remember me
When Thou art come to Thine own place
Where ransomed sinners be!'
God rest ye, gallant gentlemen,
For ye are bought with price,
This day there wends a shining train
The way to Paradise.
The day our Lord Christ lay in grave
The dead are piled so high
The field slow-moving like a wave
Sends up a mortal cry.
God love ye, gallant gentlemen,
Let nothing you dismay,
For life is born and Death is slain
Upon the Easter Day.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Hero
Outside, confidence is king
I am all that you're projecting
Inside feel the rising tide
And the revolution's deafening
I was trying to hide my opposing side
Trying to reconcile my Jeckyl and Hyde
Ladies and gentlemen listen up please
I don't want to be your hero
(No, I am not open parts of me are broken)
Do yourself a favor
Save yourself
Don't pick me find someone else
(Why'd you want to bother find yourself another)
Sometimes you put all of your desires in an object of affection
But in time because you idolise there is only disappointment
I was flying so high in your perfect sky
But I needed to fall cannot have it all
Ladies and gentlemen listen up please
I don't want to be your hero
(No, I am not open parts of me are broken)
Do yourself a favor
Save yourself
Don't pick me find someone else
(Why'd you want to bother find yourself another)
Ladies and gentlemen listen up please
I don't want to be your hero
(No, I am not open parts of me are broken)
Do yourself a favor
Save yourself
Don't pick me for someone else
(Why'd you want to bother find yourself another)
Don't need to compromise
I don't need to occupy the floor
There's a danger in boxing in my sin
And all that I am..
It's too much pressure
I'll only let you down again
(No, I am not open parts of me are broken)
It's too much pressure
I'll only let you down again
(Why'd you want to bother find yourself another)
Ladies and gentlemen listen up please
I don't want to be your hero
(No, I am not open parts of me are broken)
It's too much pressure
I'll only let you down again
(No, I am not open parts of me are broken)
Ladies and gentlemen listen up please
I don't want to be your hero
(No, I am not open parts of me are broken)
song performed by by Darren Hayes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Kinds of Loss
There's kinds of loss that can bum you out
The loss of a game
You lost your way
Losing your favorite pin
This can make you pout
But without a doubt
It is not a real big thing
The kind of loss that can make you shout
The loss of your job
The loss your car
When you could not pay
It left you confused
Feeling slightly defused
But then you can re-group
Then there a loss, that cuts deep within
My maternal rights that I tried not to win
So stupid to give up such a gift
To watch my boys grow, live with the man
that I've tried so much to get away
No school papers to hang on my frig
No more practices to run to at night
Now I that I am a part-time Mom
And try and do it all on my weekends
poem by Pookey's Poems
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National Trust
Bottomless pits. There's on in Castleton,
and stout upholders of our law and order
one day thought its depth worth wagering on
and borrowed a convict hush-hush from his warder
and winched him down; and back, flayed, grey, mad, dumb.
Not even a good flogging made him holler!
O gentlemen, a better way to plumb
the depths of Britain's dangling a scholar,
say, here at the booming shaft at Towanroath,
now National Trust, a place where they got tin,
those gentlemen who silenced the men's oath
and killed the language that they swore it in.
The dumb go down in history and disappear
and not one gentleman's been brough to book:
Mes den hep tavas a-gollas y dyr
(Cornish-)
'the tongueless man gets his land took.'
poem by Tony Harrison
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One From One Leaves Two
Higgledy piggledy, my black hen,
She lays eggs for gentlemen.
Gentlemen come every day
To count what my black hen doth lay.
If perchance she lays too many,
They fine my hen a pretty penny;
If perchance she fails to lay,
The gentlemen a bonus pay.
Mumbledy pumbledy, my red cow,
She’s cooperating now.
At first she didn’t understand
That milk production must be planned;
She didn’t understand at first
She either had to plan or burst,
But now the government reports
She’s giving pints instead of quarts.
Fiddle de dee, my next-door neighbors,
They are giggling at their labors.
First they plant the tiny seed,
Then they water, then they weed,
Then they hoe and prune and lop,
They they raise a record crop,
Then they laugh their sides asunder,
And plow the whole caboodle under.
Abracadabra, thus we learn
The more you create, the less you earn.
The less you earn, the more you’re given,
The less you lead, the more you’re driven,
The more destroyed, the more they feed,
The more you pay, the more they need,
The more you earn, the less you keep,
And now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to take
If the tax-collector hasn’t got it before I wake.
poem by Ogden Nash
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Whipping
Race is the name of the game
Along with my horse I enlisted my name
I whipped my horse giving him pain
I had a plan for both of us to win.
He did not know
So fast why he had to go!
Race is the name of the game
My Master enlisted my name
He whips me giving me pain
As if He has a plan to make me win.
What's if somebody gives another name of the game?
It will not change; the game will be the same
We are all the players of the game
What, when, how and why if they claim
If even one starts giving me and my Master a blame
Still we have to suffer and intake the pain
My Master knows better what game we have to win!
poem by Abdul Wahab
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