Four Snortets, A Parody With Fondness For Thomas Stearns Eliot
'Now we come to discover that the moments of agony...are likewise permanent with such permanence as time has...Or even a very good dinner, but the sudden illumination-We had the experience but missed the meaning.' - from 'The Dry Salvages' by T.S. Eliot
1
Burnt Snortin'
Mister, or Sir, rather, Thomas Sterns Eliot left his evening door,
late middle age, having lived into the postmodern 'new' millennium,
having again reiterated his propounded new diet whereupon
wandering on a deserted shore near mumbling twilight one might
meet a most inarticulate soft peach or unutterable yet edible Christ,
or a close match, a little kidding, upon which we may, if we dare,
reiterative quartet playing plaintive though palliatively, dine four
squarely in Piccadilly sempiternal before getting sodden after
sundown, preferably on Friday, which is a good time to do it, to eat
and drink again, remembering that it is end of the week, out of the tube
finally unethered, trousers unrolled at last, the mission to get plastered,
doing lines in the stalls, toilet seat become an altar of dissolution.
But, despite numbness of lips and tongue, of nasal passages,
do not hope that trousers shall roll up again till Monday, and do
not call it fixity. And do not call it fistula for that is to come but not
quite yet.
And who cares? or let us forget. Teach us, O Mannered One,
to care and not to care having lost muscle plasticity which a
good pair of dark socks can cover what was once pliant and
supple, now a gruesome obscenity. Have I overstated?
Shall I overstate again? Shall I? No? not now? how all things
crumble, even a souffle caves from expectation and thus we
wait with dope, we wait without hope for hope would be hope
for another line, and yet another, and we are reduced to shouting
repeatedly shouting, Muther f*cker! Muther f*cker, overwrought,
in the stall, temperatures and ovens not withstanding.
So listen, I said to myself stalling for time for the coke to take
effect, wondering why the hell I mentioned a souffle, to kick
in wait without prematurely crashing, for the night, O Friday,
is still young though I am not so young,
I grow old
I grow old
I unfold a
hundred pound
note roll it
tightly tightly
greedy for
lines and
more time
more time
for laughter
remembered
in the bloody
garden now
grown with
weeds
BOLLOCKS
2
Wasted Coker
so I said to my soul, yes yes yes wait without eating the dish eaten
last week which gave me the infernal trots, now giving me something
else to think about, f*ck that old Edenic garden, wait without faith that
the waiter will return the dish sent back merely because one can,
because one (note how I go to the third person but f*ck that) , ONE
ONE ONE is really angry at the boss and one is in the stalls not for
coke but for yet another freshly chewed double anus demanding attention.
And all things are stalled for in the stall all is bloody and ONE,
erhebung with motion too too much, squatting, endlessly squatting
wiping squatting wiping ad infinitum of bum unto bumbling attempts
so I said in the stall,
wait, wait dumbly, tongue lagging,
for the dope to kick in, forget the late
arrival at office, f*ck Mondays! the usual scene,
one can recover here by porcelain cool
white o white as
the lines are white
which, too, porcelain, is waiting to be cleaned,
and all things shall be cleaned, but only after
midnight for I shall have left by then having forsaken
all hope and the sink where I have discreetly washed
my skivvies in order to go home again, return
uncomfortable, without support, to throw them in the
turning dryer to dry again for I do not hope to return
again until next week to probably reenact the same
scene again, (bringing another pair of skivvies with
just in case) , the patient server, harassed, must add
and re-add my check again and again because I am
still
very
VERY
pissed at the boss, at the chittering fetuses mocking, always
mocking, in the shrubbery near the well-used apothecary and
I shall go home foregoing mulberries, for I am too blitzed, having
forgotten the rejected dish, the wish for justice, for mum's steak
and kidney pie, and I have remembered all too late. Alas.
So let us go home then, which is a kind of personal Golgotha,
for which the rent is beyond my means but let us go and
make our supper remembering to take the gonorrhea pill.
No, let us purchase our meal though on a budget, and forget
even all this trivia. Let us forget all that, too, looking in,
deja vu, the bathroom mirror from the stall
(have I left or do I remain?)
Recall then that I can leave the comb unhandled
until Monday morning. It shall not cruelly beckon
again from the toilet, or it can be justifiably ignored,
to comb what is left of what is left to fall, or grow,
but that's a laugh. Come Monday, and only then,
we must find the diminishing part again, searching
ever searching,
scalp and England
all one, or soon shall
be One
scanty scanty
scanty
3
The Drying Assuages
And all is vanity amongst these my ruins.
And Sweeney, whoever he may be,
tidies up neurotically, gin on his breath
for he is bored unto death but awaits
daily the post for possible liberty
which he once took with a wealthy
widow who mistook him for someone
else. The scar forever reminds of
dumb lusts, and dumber luck, for loot,
never dreaming she was a black belt.
His teeth, now wooden, remind him to
be mindful of the good against all wants,
and so he sits, wise, chaste, chiseled
in the ruins reading Beckett, but that is
another story written in the stars Centauric
qua qua qua
sisk boom ba
'tween Fuquaad
& Apothecary
near the corner
time forgot
but o not I
when the clot
broke and people
screamed no
help at all as I
stood pale,
pale, paler still
leaning upon
a tailor's wall
he, too, no
help at all
threatening
to call the cops
It closes me in
again to recall
qua qua Fuquaad
amongst the forgotten roses
where one is hungover in the supposes
he began with, that he can never finish
like this, pissed, which goes on,
which goes on, 'I can't go on.
But I must because I am losing hair and so'
dot dot dot into eternity
and so we must wear a hat but let us not go then,
you and I, patiently into all that now for come the
proper time
now then here then,
remembering the chaffing bloody garters
we will pack our Preparations H, grateful always,
no longer walking funnily sideways in the garden,
in the wandering streets, the half retreating steps,
without itch or burn, the tissue roll turned slowly
with pleasure not to double, or even triple, ply.
We cleanse what cannot be seen but only reckoned
with, and sniffed, pull at our chains and buckles,
then pick our pace doubly up for we are late yet
again for work for one because we think too too
much and get caught up in cadences but
never mind for reality is
the boss will chew us out another one thus the suppositories
forgetting the time but not the talcum, trailing little
clouds, each hurried step a flurried reminder of
divinity glimpsed, if sought at all
4
Little Skidmarks
O the stall, stall, stall, we all go into the stall
Nevermind, just follow the trail of yesterday's shoe,
talcum and dust mingle taciturn
undoing intention to haste
powdery traces unhidden guidance
the prayed for thunderstorm never come to wash
tell-tale treads reveal some rash is spread,
scaling crud of gory glory and more stains to wash
but what of shame? Do we not hope to turn it to other
than no more to blame? Thus we gait without soap,
panicked, for what is to come, to scrub, to un-stain,
but soon, the boss is pacing. But what is to be gained
in running knowing already what waits ahead?
Another annus. Another anus.
Nothing more.
Hidden children in the mulberries
chittering, heard but unseen.
Note to self:
Must take Thorazine before bedtime.
Goddamn wankers! !
But let us leave them for another dosage,
for another week's prelude sans qualudes,
the sullen departure to work again combing
the faces in the crowd pitching, another aphasia
I prefer to call an 'occluded interlude', yet
another distracted fit caught in a sun ray upon
seeing that the poorly stitched seam hastily done
between the shower and the tepid tea,
between the sorting through the dirty laundry,
the deepening ennui for something to wear,
o do not hope to wear it again and again evergreen
(whatever, BTW, 'ennui' is, but it is fun to say and
in this aesthetic some other language needs to be
gratuitously writ to make the poetic voice more valid
if Americans attempt to art, 'writ' is a good word, too,
let me then write it repeatedly: writ writ writ, to wit)
begins yet again, o Ariadne, obsessive compulsive
to the end,
Thorazine Thorazine Thorazine
must must must remember to wit!
...to unravel that which is still, to look on the
bright side, yet another beginning, the public,
pathetic, peripatetic tugging of shirts and blouses
over the widening rip in the thinning trouser's seat,
pant legs remembering to be gay scrolling ever upward.
And yet we still call these knobs 'ankles', forgoing gaity.
Nothing to be read here, now, in Merry Old,
but old age, varicose. the blank stare dreaming
comatose, of repressed rage, still pissed at the boss,
shamed of ankles, the chittering twats in mulberry bush
near home, following, following
No wonder these
little snots at me laugh.
Them I'll clobber
here then now then
Shall we turn the page again?
Shall we? Shall we turn over yet
another leaf? Shall we repeat it all
again forgetting the unraveling stitch?
The itch and the burn?
The Itch and the burn returning,
for one bought the store brand and not the original.
Now it hurts to sit or stand. Shall I say it again,
under fetid breath, dentures stained?
Yes. Yes!
Sit or stand.
Sit or stand!
Now goddamn it,
bloody move on!
I shall say it again because I can.
But later. But let us remember
indulgently
now then, here then
hidden laughter behind
hands pointing at loose stitches,
boxers gray.
Forgot to do laundry.
Another note to self.
Another task.
Do the wash.
Most important.
Still, it is a good Friday so, sighing,
at last forgetting all Mondays past
and to come
not withstanding, for it hurts either
way to sit or stand, the late pay check,
piss poor pittance, mind, is cashed
probably on bloody Monday but
never mind. Let us presently pour
our penurious libations
Chianti Chianti
Chianti.
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Letter To My Daughters
I'm sending this letter
I'll mail it today
There's so many things I've been wanting to say
Your mom sent some pictures
And my how you've grown
Rock n roll fathers are never at home
I'm writing this letter
I made you a song
I promised your mom that I'd write while I'm gone
You say daddy come home
Well you'll just have to wait
I hope when I get there that it won't be too late
Skylar I just missed your first step today
I have no excuses and nothing to say
I live on a bus with a rock n roll band
I hope when your older that you'll understand
I'm coming home soon
This tour's almost through
I promise I'll try to spend more time with you
You say daddy come home
You'll just have to wait
I hope when I get there that it won't be too late
Now Madison Blue you know I love you too
Not a single day passes that I don't think of you
I'm running on empty and a mountain so high
I can pull out your pictures and look in your eyes
I long for the day when your old man comes home
It kills me to hear you say daddy don't go
You say daddy come home
You'll just have to wait
I hope when I get there that it won't be too late
Daddy's at work now he's trying to pay bills
Ego's and assholes are part of my deal
I make some money and I have some fun
The tax man he cometh and I'm back to square one
Don't worry bout your daddy
You girls be good
Give a kiss to your mother
I sure wish I could
This life has it's moments
I'm not always sad
Take care and I love you
Your rock n roll dad
song performed by by Uncle Kracker from No Stranger To Shame
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Morning
Hey baby what you doing?
Your flight left yet?
Pshh, Im half way there
I cant wait to see you
So tell me have you left yet, damn
Im running late to the airport
Every time we do this
In my mind saying should I go through with this?
All I see is you kissing me
Last time shut my eyes
Plane goes higher, higher
Hotels booked all I have to do is get my key
I cant wait to have you walk up and hold on me, yeah
Ive never felt this way before
But in the morning
When youre gone
I must wait and be strong
And have faith
Youll return
In my arms
Hope you miss your flight
Hope you miss your flight
Casablanca has always been my dream
I heard that its absolutely radiant in spring
In the garden drinking shots of hennesy
Calm my nerves, its been way too long for me
Finally were driving in a far out dream
Nothing seems even real or close for me
Afternoon sun showers change the way I see
Ive never felt this way before
But in the morning
When youre gone
I must wait and be strong
And have faith
Youll return
In my arms
Hope you miss your flight
Hope you miss your flight
But in the morning
When youre gone
I must wait and be strong
And have faith
Youll return
In my arms
Hope you miss your flight
Hope you miss your flight
Its okay, its okay
(its okay)
Its okay, its okay
But in the morning
When youre gone
I must wait and be strong
And have faith
Youll return
In my arms
Hope you miss your flight
Hope you miss your flight
song performed by by Kelis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wait For Me
All these miles, haunting questions linger in my mind.
And all the while, making bad decisions out of line.
Still I've tried, to let go of the danger in my life.
It's alright, when that's the only thing I've left behind.
And there's still time...
Wait for me. There's so much more of life for us to see.
You must believe, it's not because of you I've had to leave.
Wait for me. I only hope that you'll remember me.
At this time, I'm counting all the reasons I should stay.
Bottom line. I'm missing all the things I gave away.
I remind, and see your face every single day.
Still I'm blind. I wish that there was something I could say
To make things right...
Wait for me. There's so much more of life for us to see.
You must believe, it's not because of you I've had to leave.
Wait for me. I only hope that you'll remember me.
Just hold on a little bit longer.
Thoughts and memories will be enough
My need for you is only growing stronger.
I know you don't understand it much
But it doesn't mean I have to care about you any less
It doesn't have a thing to do with that.
There's still so many questions that are gonna' be addressed
I'm sorry that it had to be like this.
But there's still time to make things right.
Wait for me. There's so much more of life for us to see.
You must believe, it's not because of you I've had to leave.
Wait for me. I only hope that you'll remember me.
song performed by by Flaw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Love On The Telephone
Monday, tuesday, three days and more
Pretty soon you dont know anymore
Friday, the sixth day, saturday seems late
Dont know how much longer I can wait
Ooh, could ya wait til I get home
Ooh, we need to be alone
n I dont wanna lose
My love on the telephone
You make me nervous cause the lines engaged
I cant believe we let it get to this stage
Sittin here waitin for you to give me a sign
You know I got my heart on the line
Ooh, I know that I was wrong
Ooh, Ive been away too long
I cant stand to lose
My love on the telephone
Hello operator
You know that Ive been waitin on this call
I said, hey, operator
If youre givin me a bad time
Im gonna tear this phone right off the wall
Monday, tuesday, three days and more
Pretty soon I dont know anymore
Friday is the sixth day, saturday seems late
Dont know how much longer I can wait
Ooh, could ya wait til I get home
Ooh, we need to be alone
n I dont wanna lose
My love on the telephone
Ooh, Im runnin out of time
Ooh, my heart is on the line
n I dont wanna lose
My love on the telephone
Ooh, maybe I was wrong
Ooh, Ive been away too long
n I cant stand to lose
My love on the telephone
Ooh, could ya wait til I get home
Ooh, we need to be alone
n I dont wanna lose
My love on the telephone
song performed by by Foreigner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She's Going Home With Me
(Travis Tritt)
Well I guess you'd call me trouble
I have been most my life
Been black and blue a time or two
'Cause I ain't scared to fight
But I got myself a sweetheart
That stands right by my side
Always around to cool me down
When I get dixie fried
And I know she loves to party
She knows I don't like crowds
But I compromise on Friday nights
And we go paint the town
She turns heads in every club
We hang out in 'til three
But I don't care how much they stare
She's going home with me
She's going home with me tonight
On that you can depend
She's not just some one night stand
That girl's is my best friend
And I don't have to be jealous
Just wait around and see
She don't want nobody else
She's going home with me
Well I used to go out prowlin'
Skirt chasing every night
Sniffing 'round like some ol' hound
Like all you other guys
Until from out of nowhere
She took me by the hand
I found what I'd been looking for
Dog days came to an end
So listen good now fellas
No need to act the fool
I treat her well, no way in hell
That she'd leave me for you
Your come on lines won't sway her
She's happy as can be
She made her choice, forget it boys
She's going home with me
She's going home with me tonight
On that you can depend
She's not just some one night stand
That girl's is my best friend
And I don't have to be jealous
Just wait around and see
She don't want nobody else
She's going home with me
I don't have to get jealous
Just wait around and see
She made her choice, forget it boys
She's going home with me
song performed by by Travis Tritt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heartless Boss
What do you do when you know you can’t cope?
To complete work in normal time there is no hope
On Monday the funeral I said goodbye to mum
Leaving an emptiness in my heart and tum
Boss told me I should use holiday for time I was off
But I’ve checked with others and his lies I’ve seen through
Without doctors note I can have up to eight day
Five on sick and 3 compassionate they say
Today’s in the rose garden they spread my mums ashes
While I’m in work and my boss mentally bashes
He gives me more and more to do makes me dizzy
My mind can’t think straight flits between blank and a tizzy
I Just Got My Pay
Five long days and Im tired of working
Im going to see my boss today
In fifteen minutes Ill be on the train
cause I just got my pay
Now I could take and sock away my dough
And make me six percent a year
But its not much fun to wait around for that
When I can spend it while its here
Ah
Lets get dressed up
And see a movie
I like spending my money
And I like having a good time
Good times sure make me happy
And Im so happy
cause I just got my pay
Monday morning Im up and at it
Those last two days were good for my soul
Its time to do my working thing
Im late so I got to roll
My take home comes to bout ninety-five
And my boss is giving me some praise
If it werent for me the place would fall apart
I think Ill hit him up for a raise
(hit im up get a rais)
Ah
Lets get undressed
And climb in bed too
I like spending my money
And I like having a good time
Good times sure make me happy
And Im so happy
cause I just got my pay
Dada dada da
Dadada
Da da da da da
Dadada
song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Seven Days
seven days was all she wrote
A kind of ultimatum note
She gave to me, she gave to me
When I thought the field had cleared
It seems another suit appeared
To challenge me, woe is me
Though I hate to make a choice
My options are decreasing mostly rapidly
Well well see
I dont think shed bluff this time
I really have to make her mine
Its plain to see
Its him or me
Monday, I could wait till tuesday
If I make up my mind
Wednesday would be fine, thursdays on my mind
Fridayd give me time, saturday could wait
But sundayd be too late
The fact that hes six feet ten
Might instill fear in other men
But not in me, the mighty flea (flee? )
Ask if I am mouse or man
The mirror squeaked, away I ran
Hell murder me in time for his tea
Does it bother me at all
My rival is neanderthal, it makes me think
Perhaps I need a drink
Iq is no problem here
We wont be playing scrabble for her hand I fear
I need that beer
Monday, I could wait till tuesday
If I make up my mind
Wednesday would be fine, thursdays on my mind
Fridayd give me time, saturday could wait
But sundayd be too late
Seven days will quickly go
The fact remains, I love her so
Seven days, so many ways
But I cant run away
Monday, I could wait till tuesday
If I make up my mind
Wednesday would be fine, thursdays on my mind
Fridayd give me time, saturday could wait
But sundayd be too late
Do I have to tell a story
Of a thousand rainy days since we first met
Its a big enough umbrella
But its always me that ends up getting wet
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reminiscing
Friday night it was late
I was walking you home
We got down to the gate
And I was dreaming of the night
Would it turn out right
How to tell you girl
I want to build my world around you
Tell you that it's true
I wanna make you understand
I'm talking about a life time plan
That's the way it began
We were hand in hand
Glen Miller's Band was better than before
We yelled and screamed for more
And the porter too
Made us dance across the room
It ended it all too soon
And on the way back home
I promise you, you'll never be alone
Hurry don't be late
I can hardly wait
I said to myself when we're old
We'll go dancing in the dark
Walking through the park and reminiscing
Friday night it was late
I was walking you home
We got down to the gate
And I was dreaming of the night
Would it turn out right
Now as the years roll on
Each time we hear our favorite song
The memories come along
Older times we're missing
Spending the hours reminiscing
Hurry don't be late
I can hardly wait
I said to myself when we're old
We'll go dancing in the dark
Walking through the park and reminiscing
We'll go dancing in the dark
Walking through the park and reminiscing
You should be dancing
Dancing
Dancing
Dancing
And reminiscing
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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So Good To See You
Words and music by rick nielsen
Ooh, its so good to see you
I couldnt wait another day
Ooh, I hope everyone missed you
You know they want you to stay
Home in one month
Couldnt feel better if I tried
Wont even write
Its better thatll be a surprise
I cant expect to be a household word
I dont mind, just let me inside
I dont expect to be seen or heard
I wont mind, Ive nothin to hide
Ooh, its so good to see you
I couldnt wait another day
So good to see you
Ooh, I hope everyone missed you
You know they want you to stay
Home in one week
Gettin so much closer all the time
Seems like overnight
Its better thatll be a surprise
We shouldnt get to be too close friends
I dont mind, Ive nothin to hide
We couldnt get to be too close friends
You wont mind if youve nothin to hide
Ooh, its so good to see you
I couldnt wait another day
So good to see you
Oo, I hope everyone missed you
You know they want you to stay
Dont stop to think what youre doin
Ill surprise you anytime
Dont stop to do what youre thinkin
Youre just wastin your time
Ooh, its so good to see you
I couldnt wait another day
So good to see you
Oo, I hope everyone missed you
I really want you to stay
song performed by by Cheap Trick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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End Of The Week
I get out of work
And then I throw away all of my cares
I get out of work
And then I wash the week out my hair
Monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday
Its hard as could be
But by old friday evening
Were free, were free, were free
End of the week
The weekend started
Been working so hard to play
End of the week
Its time to party
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Youre tasting freedom
No one to push you around
End of the week
And life has a reason
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Street are alive
You know everybodys going somewhere
You put on the slide
You gotta beat the crowd just everywhere
And all the music all the dancing
Get you so high
And all that sweet romancing
Oh my, oh my, oh my
End of the week
The weekend started
Working so hard to play
End of the week
Its time to party
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
Feels good now
Feels good now
End of the week
End of the week
Its real good now
Real good now
End of the week
End of the week
End of the week
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Party People... Friday Night
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
Just another day, sitting watching the clock
Tick tock, tick tock, but it feels like its stopped
Wishing time away, pushing monday through to friday
Im dreaming of the crowd; everybodys hanging out
Soft tops down, and were pumping the sounds
I can feel the vibe as were cruising the town
I cant wait til friday comes around
When the working week is done, got my money, and now, Im gonna get
Some
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
So, you all ready?
We just keep rocking on
Feeling good
Just til the break of dawn
Do what I gotta do, Ill do what they say,
But I swear that ship is coming my way
Im gonna kiss this place goodbye
Im gonna chase my destiny
Im gonna make it friday every day
When the working week is done, got my money, and now, Im gonna get
Some
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
Bring, bring, telephone rings; tell me, baby, what youre saying
I know, sometimes, its hard to take it; trust me, baby, just believe
It
Monday, I know it goes so slow; tuesday, oh, I just dont know
Wednesday drives you crazy; thursdays over, man, its friday
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
song performed by by 911
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ill Wait
(taylor dayne, shep pettibone, tony shimkin)
Ill wait by the window
Ill wait by the door
To make sure you dont come home after dark
Now, Ill wait by the phone
Ill make sure Im at home
Ill be there when youre needin you know what
Now, I can tell you - by things you do
You dont know that Ive been watching you
Now, I dont understand your games or crazy plans
Im here for you baby, stop playing with my mind
Well, I know what
I feel inside
I trust enough in what my heart tells me
Havent I been good
The way I should
Just act like a man and stay here and stand by my side
Ill wait just a little more time
Just a little more time
To move in a new direction
Ill wait just a little more time
Till you make up your mind
You know that you needed me too
Why are you feelin so scared and unwilling
To be there - when someones there for you
Why time has to be so unkind for no reason
But love has no measure - this is true
Well, I know what
I feel inside
I trust enough
In what my heart tells me
Havent I been good
The way I should
Im willing, Im able
I need you to give me a sign
Ill wait just a little more time
Just a little more time
To move in a new direction
Ill wait just a little more time
Till you make up your mind
I know that you needed me too
Ill wait
Yes, Ill wait
Just a little more time
Baby, new directions
Ill wait just a little more time
Till you make up your mind
I know that you needed me too
Baby, havent I been good to you
The way that I said I would be
Why are you leaving me now
Well, I know what
I feel inside
I trust enough
In what my hearts been telling me
Havent I been good
The way I should
Im willing, Im able
I need you to give me a sign
song performed by by Taylor Dayne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Wont Be Home No More
Written and recorded by hank williams (sr.)
Capo on 1st fret.
[d] well, youre just in time to be too late
I tried to but I couldnt wait
And [a] now I ve got another date
So I wont be home no [d] more
Youre just in time to miss the boat
So dont take off your hat and coat
[a] be on your way, thats all she wrote
cause I wont be home no [d] more.
1st bridge
I [g] stood around a month or two
And waited for your call
Now [d] I m too busy pitchin woo
So come around next [a] fall
I [d] scratched your name right off my slate
And hung a sign on my front gate
Youre [a] just in time to be too late
And I wont be home no [d] more.
Well, youre just in time to turn around
And drive your buggy back to town
You looked me up I turned you down
And I wont be home no more
Youre just in time to change your tune
Go tell your troubles to the moon
And call around next may or june
cause I wont be home no more.
2nd bridge
I used to be the patient kind
Believed each alibi
But thats all done, I ve changed my mind
I ve got new fish to fry
Well, youre just in time to celebrate
The things you didnt calculate
Youre just in time to be too late
And I wont be home no more.
song performed by by Hank Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Schizophrenic
Each morning as I catch my bus,
A-fearing I'll be late,
I think: there are in all of us
Two folks quite separate;
As one I greet the office staff
With grim, official mien;
The other's when I belly-laugh,
And Home Sweet Home's the scene.
I've half a hundred men to boss,
And take my job to heart;
You'll never find me at a loss,
So well I play my part.
My voice is hard, my eye is cold,
My mouth is grimly set;
They all consider me, I'm told,
A "bloody martinet."
But when I reach my home at night
I'm happy as a boy;
My kiddies kiss me with delight,
And dance a jig of joy.
I slip into my oldest cloths,
My lines of care uncrease;
I mow the lawn, unhook the hose,
And glow with garden peace.
It's then I wonder which I am,
the boss with hard-boiled eye,
Or just the gay don't care-a-damn
Go-lucky garden guy?
Am I the starchy front who rants
As round his weight he throws,
or just old Pop with patchy pants,
Who sings and sniffs a rose?
poem by Robert William Service
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God's Watcher'sTime
God's Watcher's Time
something to wait is something we leave
something to remember is something we forget
something to seek is something we lose
life is waiting, remembering and seeking
death is leaving, forgetting and losing
time, time is something we wait we leave
time is something we remember we forget
time is something we seek we lose
it has you by the life and death
it is a witness for your goodness and badness
it gives you heaven but it also gives you hell
time is the answer for all unanswered questions
time is a God's watcher for us.
poem by Juahta Sitepu
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Returning of Issue
Tomorrow will be your last day here. Someone is speaking:
A familiar voice, speaking again at all of us.
And beyond the windows— it is inside now, and autumn—
On a wind growing daily harsher, small things to the earth
Are turning and whirling, small. Tomorrow will be
Your last day here,
But not we hope for always. You cannot see through the windows
If they are leaves or flowers. We hope that many of you
Will be coming back for good. Silence, and stupefaction.
The coarsening wind and the things whirling upon it
Scour that rough stamping-ground where we so long
Have spent our substance,
As the trees are spending theirs. How much of mine have I spent,
Father, oh father? How sorry we are to lose you
I do not have to say, since the sergeant-major
Has said it, the RSM has said it, and the colonel
Has sent over a message to say that he also says it.
Everyone sorry to lose us,
And you, oh father, father, once sorry too. I think
I can honestly say you are one and all of you now:
Soldiers. Silence, and disbelief. A fact that will stand you
In pretty good stead in the various jobs you go back to.
I wish you the best of luck. Silence. And all of you know
You can think of us here, as home.
As home: a home we shall any of you welcome you back to.
Most of you have, I know, some sort of work waiting for you,
And the rest of you now being, thanks to us, fit and able,
Will be bound to find something. I begin to be in want.
Would any citizen of this country send me
Into his fields? And
Before I finalise: one thing about tomorrow
I must make perfectly clear. Tomorrow is clear already:
I saw myself once, but now am by time forbidden
To see myself so: as the man who went evil ways,
Till lie determined, in time of famine, to seek
His father's home.
Autumn is later down there: it should now be the time
Of vivacious triumph in the fruitful fields.
As he approached, he ran over his speeches of sorrow,
Not less of truth for being much-rehearsed:
The last distilment from a long and inward.
Discourse of heartbreak. And
The first thing you do, after first thing tomorrow morning,
Is, those that leave not been previously detailed to do so,
Which I think is the case in most cases, is a systematic
Returning of issue. It is all-important
You should restore to store one of every store issued.
And in the case of two, two.
And I, as always late, shall never know that lifted fear
When the small hard-working master of those fields
Looked up. I trembled. But his heart came out to me
With a shout of compassion. And all my speech was only:
'Father, I have sinned against heaven, and am no more worthy
To be called thy son.'
But if I cried it, father, you could not hear me now,
Where now you lie, crumpled in that small grave
Like any withering dog. Your fields are sold and built on,
Your lanes are filled with husks the swine reject.
I scoop them in my hands. I have earned no more; and more
I shall not inherit. And
A careful check will be made of every such object
That was issued to each personnel originally,
And checked at issue. And let me be quite implicit:
That no accoutrements, impedimentas, fittings, or military garments
May be taken as souvenirs. The one exception is shirts,
And whatever you wear underneath.
These may be kept, those that wish. But the rest of the issue
Must be returned, except who intend to rejoin
In regular service. Silence. Which involves a simple procedure
I will explain in a simple group to those that rejoin.
Now, how many will that be? Silence. No one? No one at all?
I see. Very well. I have up to now
Spoken with the utmost of mildness. I speak so still,
But it does seem to me a bit of a bloody pity,
A bit un-bloody-feeling, after the all
We have bloody done for you, you should sit on your dumb bloody arses,
Just waiting like bloody milksops till I bloody dismiss you.
Silence, embarrassed, but silent.
And am I to break it, father, to break this silence?
Is there no bloody man among you? Not one bloody single one?
I will break the silence, father. Yes, sergeant, I will stay
In a group of one. Father, be proud of me.
Oh splendid, man! And for Christ's sake, tell them all,
Why you are doing this.
Why am I doing this? And is it too late to say no?
Come speak out, man: tell us, and shame these bastards.
I hope to shame no one, sergeant, in simply wishing
To remain a personnel. I have been such a thing before.
It was good, and simple; and it was the best I could do.
Here is a man, men! Silence.
Silence, indeed. How could I tell them, now?
I have nowhere else to go? How could I say
I have no longer gift or want; or how describe
The inexplicable tears that filled my eyes
When the poor sergeant said: 'After the all
We have bloody done for you'?
Goodbye forever, father, after the all you have done for me.
Soon I must start to forget you; but how to forget
That reconcilement, never enacted between us,
Which should have been ours, under the autumn sun?
I can see it and feel it now, clearer than daylight, clearer
For one brief moment, now,
Than even the astonished faces of my fellows,
The sergeant's uneasy smile, the trees, the relief at choosing
To learn once more the things I shall one day teach:
A rhetoric instead of words; instead of a love, the use
Of accoutrements, impedimenta, and fittings, and military garments,
And harlots, and riotous living.
poem by Henry Reed
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Sonnet 11
XI
A Book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon;
And wov'n close, both matter, form and stile;
The Subject new: it walk'd the Town a while,
Numbring good intellects; now seldom por'd on.
Cries the stall-reader, bless us! what a word on
A title page is this! and some in file
Stand spelling fals, while one might walk to Mile-
End Green. Why is it harder Sirs then Gordon,
Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp?
Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek
That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp.
Thy age, like ours, O Soul of Sir John Cheek,
Hated not Learning wors then Toad or Asp;
When thou taught'st Cambridge, and King Edward Greek.
Note: Camb. Autograph supplies title, On the Detraction which
followed my writing certain Treatises.
poem by John Milton
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Wish You Were Here
I sent you a postcard
Thought it would be funny
Would have sent a souvenir
But they took all my money
It's pretty warm down here but it ain't sunny
And I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I tried to call you
I tried to call you
Long distance operators that only stall you
Besides the damn rates are so high
They just appall you
And I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
And I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
It started out a nice vacation
Left the station right on time
Can't get a ticket to get me home, dear
They just don't have too many flights from twilight zone, dear
So don't forget to feed my cats
Spot and Jerome, dear
And I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
Having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
Having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
Seeing all the sights here
I'm getting lonely
I'd show you all the film I took if they would only
Let me go home
Dear, sincerely
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
I'm having a hell of a time, my dear
Wish you were here
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wait Until Tomorrow
Well, Im standing here, freezing, inside your golden garden
Uh got my ladder, leaned up against your wall
Tonights the night we planned to run away together
Come on dolly mae, theres no time to stall
But now youre telling me...
I think we better wait till tomorrow
Hey, yeah, hey
(I think we better wait till tomorrow)
Girl, what chu talkin bout ?
(I think we better wait till tomorrow)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Got to make sure its right, so until tomorrow, goodnight.
Oh, what a drag.
Oh, dolly mae, how can you hang me up this way ?
Oh, on the phone you said you wanted to run off with me today
Now Im standing here like some turned down serenading fool
Hearing strange words stutter from the mixed mind of you
And you keep tellin me that ah...
I think we better wait till tomorrow
What are you talkin bout ?
(I think we better wait till tomorrow)
No, cant wait that long
(I think we better wait till tomorrow)
Oh, no
Got to make sure its right, until tomorrow, goodnight, oh.
Lets see if I can talk to this girl a little bit here...
Ow ! dolly mae, girl, you must be insane
So unsure of yourself leaning from your unsure window pane
Do I see a silhouette of somebody pointing something from a tree ?
Click bang, what a hang, your daddy just shot poor me
And I hear you say, as I fade away...
We dont have to wait till tomorrow
Hey !
We dont have to wait till tomorrow
What you say ?
(we dont have to wait till tomorrow)
It must have been right, so forever, goodnight, listen at cha.
(we dont have to wait till tomorrow)
Ah ! do I have to wait ? dont have to wait
(we dont have to wait till tomorrow)
Its a drag on my part
(we dont have to wait till tomorrow) dont have to wait, uh, hmm ! ah, no !
(we dont have to wait till tomorrow)
Dont have to wait, dont have to wait, yeah !
(we dont have to wait till tomorrow)
Dont have to wait, dont have to wait
(we dont have to wait till tomorrow)
Oh, oh
I wont be around tomorrow, yeah !
(we dont have to wait till tomorrow)
Dont have to wait
(we dont have to wait till tomorrow)
Goodbye, bye bye !
(we dont have to wait till tomorrow)
Oh, what a mix up
Oh, you gotta be crazy, hey, ow!
Dont have to wait till tomorrow.
song performed by by Jimi Hendrix
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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