When time is hard
Someone must take the blame
Evict the poor
Bus them to another country
As they now do in France
tanka by Oskar Hansen
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Incarceration Cause And Effect
bad choices usually
have bad outcomes
cause and event
crime and time
everyone is innocent in prison
is the perpetual not guilty plea
blame it on de man who taught
blame it on de man who fought
blame it on de fool who wanted to be cool
blame it on de location of a bar room stole
blame it on de hard drug pushed or alcohol
blame it on de police sting or sell out mole
prison incarceration in punitive prison
result of poor self choice made decision
locked inside can result in fatal incision
from this education few great have arisen
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Sonnet: Such Blaming is Futile
Why blame poor Death when it does its duty?
Why blame the land for becoming desert?
Why blame Nature for unleashing fury?
Why blame dame Luck for being so inert?
Why blame the Sun for scorching summer’s heat?
Why blame the winter for its freezing cold?
Why blame the Wind for turning land less neat?
Why blame women for asking diamonds, gold?
Why blame the Sky for not bringing the Rain?
Why blame the Air for becoming so foul?
Why blame the nerves for sensation of pain?
Why blame the devils for your sinful soul?
Why blame the Stars for good or bad life brings?
Why blame your God for bad turn of some things?
poem by John Celes
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Business Is Business
You can not evict me!
I have a BA degree.
'AND...
Cut.
That was wonderful.
Next.'
You can not evict me!
I have a Master's in Engineering.
'And...
Cut.
I loved your attitude
Inspiring!
And next, please.'
You can not evict me.
Everything. EVERYTHING...
I own,
Has been repossessed.
You can not do this to me!
I have a Doctorate's Degree in Psychology.
Please.
'And...
Cut.
That was fabulous.
I loved the tears.
But keep this in mind...
To own is a debatable opinion.
And that concept is fading fast.
Now...
I can not promise you,
You will get your homes back.
But I will guarantee you all this...
We will keep your profiles on hand,
And as soon as our foreign investors arrive...
We will see which one of you,
Will be picked to represent their diversity campaign.
However...
All of you should feel proud.
I have never filmed such heart wrenching,
And quite believable emotional moments.
I am sure...
As the fees I've collected from you,
'Someone' will be impressed with your talents.
Although...
And you all know this,
Business IS business.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Once upon a time there was an old country, wrapped up in habit and caution. We have to transform our old France into a new country and marry it to its time.
quote by Charles de Gaulle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once upon a time there was an old country, wrapped up in habit and caution. ... We have to transform our old France into a new country and marry it to its time.
quote by Charles de Gaulle
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Eighteenth-Nineteenth Century Verse
France is the country of poems and prose
the lovely French language tells us so.
Romantic love in classical verse
dates back to Voltaire from days long ago.
The 18th century brought poets from Paris
writing about France and the Seine,
and so many other Parisian wonders
that lie in that fertile plain.
Yes France was a country of talent
In England, Wordsworth stole the scene
whilst Coleridge, another fine English poet
wrote lyrical verse about Pastures Green.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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To Be (Love Poem)
Sometimes it’s hard to be apart
Sometimes it’s hard to be brave
Sometimes it’s hard to be cold
Sometimes it’s hard to be daring
Sometimes it’s hard to be early
Sometimes it’s hard to be friends
Sometimes it’s hard to be good
Sometimes it’s hard to be happy
Sometimes it’s hard to be in-love
Sometimes it’s hard to be just
Sometimes it’s hard to be kind
Sometimes it’s hard to be lovely
Sometimes it’s hard to be mellow
Sometimes it’s hard to be nasty
Sometimes it’s hard to be out
Sometimes it’s hard to be poor
Sometimes it’s hard to be quiet
Sometimes it’s hard to be ready
Sometimes it’s hard to be simple
Sometimes it’s hard to be together
poem by Ian Beckett
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In The Country
Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah!
Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah!
When the world in which you live in,
Gets a bit too much to bear,
And you need someone to lean on,
When you look, there's no one there
You're gonna find me, out in the country,
Yeah, you're gonna find me, way out in the country,
Where the air is good, and the day is fine,
And the pretty girl, has a hand in mine,
And the silver stream, is a poor man's wine,
In the country, in the country
When you're walking in the city,
And you're feeling rather small,
And the people on the sidewalk,
Seem to form a solid wall
You're gonna find me, out in the country,
Hey, you're gonna find me, way out in the country,
Where the air is good, and the day is fine,
And the pretty girl, has a hand in mine,
And the silver stream, is a poor man's wine,
In the country, in the country
Hurry, hurry, hurry,
For the time is slipping by,
You don't need a ticket,
It belongs to you and I
Come on an join me, out in the country,
Where the air is good, and the day is fine,
And the pretty girl, has a hand in mine,
And the silver stream, is a poor man's wine,
In the country, in the country
Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah!
Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah! Ba-ba-ba-Bah!
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Blame You
Ten miles from nowhere
Theres a story thats true
About a fine girl
And a boy just like you
They fell so deeply
But then fell apart
Now they say the same words
Of what used to be
What used to be
I blame you (I blame you)
I blame you (I blame you)
I blame you (I blame you)
He drops his car keys
And crawls on the ground
Finds her old haircomb
Shed wear into town
Cant bear to keep it
Or throw it away
Gets back down on his kness
Put it back where it lay
Back where it lay
I blame you (I blame you)
I blame you (I blame you)
I blame you (I blame you)
Notes
There is a different song on dial-a-song with the same tune as this. it is titled free birds rebirth, and goes:
Listen dear people
To a story so sad
About a poor boy
Who never went bad
He got some chain mail
But he broke the chain
Now he must sing free bird
Again and again
Again and again
Again and again
Free bird
Free bird
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself, tell yourself that you are not a poet enough to call forth its riches; for to the creator there is no poverty and no poor indifferent place.
quote by Rainer Maria Rilke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Accept Yourself
Every day you must say
So, how do i feel about my life ?
Anything is hard to find
When you will not open your eyes
When will you accept yourself ?
I am sick and i am dull
And i am plain
How dearly i'd love to get carried away
Oh, but dreams have a knack of just not coming true
And time is against me now...oh
Oh, who and what to blame ?
Oh, anything is hard to find
When you will not open your eyes
When will you accept yourself, for heaven's sake ?
Anything is hard to find
When you will not open your eyes
Every day you must say
Oh, how do i feel about the past ?
Others conquered love - but i ran
I sat in my room and i drew up a plan
Oh, but plans can fall through (as so often they do)
And time is against me now...
And there's no-one left to blame
Oh, tell me when will you ...
When will you accept your life ?
(the one that you hate)
For anything is hard to find
When you will not open your eyes
Every day you must say
Oh, how do i feel about my shoes ?
They make me awkward and plain
How dearly i would love to kick with the fray ...
But i once had a dream (and it never came true)
And time is against me now...
Time is against me now...
And there's no one but yourself to blame
Oh, anything is hard to find
When you will not open your eyes
Anything is hard to find; for heaven's sake !
Anything is hard to find
When you will not open your eyes
When will you accept yourself ?
When ?
When ?
When ?
When ?
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Beautiful Stranger
I cannot know what country owns thee now,
With France's forest lilies on thy brow.
When England knew thee thou wert passing fair;
I never knew a foreign face so rare.
The world of waters rolls and rushes bye,
Nor lets me wander where thy vallies lie.
But surely France must be a pleasant place
That greets the stranger with so fair a face;
The English maiden blushes down the dance,
But few can equal the fair maid of France.
I saw thee lovely and I wished thee mine,
And the last song I ever wrote is thine.
Thy country's honour on thy face attends;
Men may be foes but beauty makes us friends.
poem by John Clare
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France was an occupied country, a country that surrendered and was left without the right to choose.
quote by Jean-Marie Le Pen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Why Blame?
Why blame the eagle for its swoop on mice?
Why blame the tiger for hunting its prey?
Why blame the drug-peddler for playing dice?
Why blame the donkey when it can but bray?
Why blame the wind that makes the branches sway?
Why blame the snake for its poison-fangs?
Why blame the sun for a hot summer’s day?
Why blame the police for the thieving gangs?
Why blame the night for being dark and cold?
Why blame the devils when they will tempt man?
Why blame our fate when we are getting old?
Why blame the Maker for how Man began?
Why blame the circumstances for our sins?
Why blame the tongue, whenever our words mince?
7-30-2002
poem by John Celes
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Poor Baby
Orbison/c & r price
Glittery eyes; witchy smiles
A good time is all you are after
Skin tight thighs; little white lies
Put you in the center of the laughter
But your reign of queen is over
Your fortress has been broken down
You're still the center of the laughter
But your role has changed to the clown
Chorus
Ooh poor baby
Someone broke your heart in two
Ooh poor baby
Who would have thought it could happen to you
Poor baby
A pretty face; sweet talkin' ways
Got you a part of the action
A come-over-touch, glances and such
You always had to be the main attraction
Now you're the one who's crying
You lost at your own lonely game
You're still the center of attraction
But now i'm gone, you've got yourself to blame
Chorus
Ooh poor baby
Do what you said you'd never do
Ooh poor baby
You let someone get much too close to you
Poor baby
Poor baby,poor baby
Poor baby,poor baby
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Luckily, he was in the process of moving to France at the time, anyway. But if he had stayed in the States, I don't know how he would have handled that, because it was getting pretty crazy. I mean, a celebrity which he really did not welcome. And I can't blame him.
quote by Terry Zwigoff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet -All Men Are Imperfect, Poets Too
Why blame the Poet for the mess he writes;
All flowers bloom from stage of bud only;
Why blame the priest for poor funeral rites?
That is the way we do pray, sing, may be;
No one is perfect in his work at first;
Hard-work and time and luck, his mettle tells;
None have always the same hunger and thirst;
Nothing on earth quite uniformly sells.
By training much, one can become perfect;
Not all are geniuses, born or made;
The most perfect at times has some defect;
We don't know if our glory shall fade.
But Poets write just for the sake of it;
And very soon, they write out of habit.
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Poor, Poor Country
Oh 'twas a poor country, in Autumn it was bare,
The only green was the cutting grass and the sheep found little there.
Oh, the thin wheat and the brown oats were never two foot high,
But down in the poor country no pauper was I.
My wealth it was the glow that lives forever in the young,
'Twas on the brown water, in the green leaves it hung.
The blue cranes fed their young all day - how far in a tall tree!
And the poor, poor country made no pauper of me.
I waded out to the swan's nest - at night I heard them sing,
I stood amazed at the Pelican, and crowned him for a king;
I saw the black duck in the reeds, and the spoonbill on the sky,
And in that poor country no pauper was I.
The mountain-ducks down in the dark made many a hollow sound,
I saw in sleep the Bunyip creep from the waters underground.
I found the plovers' island home, and they fought right valiantly,
Poor was the country, but it made no pauper of me.
My riches all went into dreams that never yet came home,
They touched upon the wild cherries and the slabs of honeycomb,
They were not of the desolate brood that men can sell or buy,
Down in that poor country no pauper was I.
* * * * *
The New Year came with heat and thirst and the little lakes were low,
The blue cranes were my nearest friends and I mourned to see them go;
I watched their wings so long until I only saw the sky,
Down in that poor country no pauper was I.
poem by John Shaw Neilson
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Dear Motherland Of France
DEDICATED TO THE MEN AND WOMEN OF FRANCE
Our Motherland, dear Motherland,
The source of beauty and of Art,
Who but thy children understand
The love which permeates each heart!
We see, through rainbow-tints of tears,
Thy glory of a thousand years.
O country of the Great and Free,
We live for thee, we live for thee,
Dear Motherland of France.
O Motherland, both blithe and brave,
What magic lies in thy name-France!
Yet can thy radiant mien be grave,
And stern thy ever-smiling glance.
And when thy sons and daughters know
That enemies would lay thee low
And dim thy fame on land and sea,
We fight for thee, we fight for thee,
Dear Motherland of France.
Dear Motherland of joy and mirth,
Dear Motherland of faith divine,
A thousand years the wondering earth
Has seen thy star in splendour shine.
Still shall it see that star of France
Its splendour and its light enhance.
Dear Motherland, when it need be
We die for thee, we die for thee,
Dear Motherland of France.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Life Here
He loves the rich and poor
In entire dreams of youth;
Plenty of hours are spent
In the latitudes of this country.
This country has colours of honour,
In its flag the strokes of essence
Can be conspicuous for the alert
And hard hearts of this very country.
The rich explore and this concerns me
For they drag the beaten soldiers
Into the wombs of their mothers,
Reflecting from mirrors like light.
This light I have coloured in my book,
For children explain and explore
To concentrate their minds on
Innocence, the very deal in life of the country.
poem by Naveed Akram
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