A Poetry Anthology

This introduction is simply me at my most pretentious. I suggest that you skip it, go back to: The Index of Poems, by Author and enjoy some of those "Other Men's Flowers", copied out below. If you do that, you might just find something of value.

What's that you say? You want to continue anyway? Oh well, you've been warned. There's just no helping some people, is there? Here goes then:

Everybody has their own set of "Favourite Poems". Here is a selection of mine. In addition to the standard forms of Poetry I have also included a number of song lyrics which, in my view, are also poetry in their own right. Probably everyone, would agree than Bob Dylan and Leonard Cohen have written song lyrics that are also poetry; that these two people are poets in their own right, indeed Leonard Cohen has published entire collections of poetry, which he has not set to music. I would also like to argue that Ian Dury, Kate Bush, Katie Melua, Leiber and Stoller and the rather brilliant lyricists who have written the songs, sung by the pop group known as "Squeeze" are also poets.

I have included quite a large selection of my favourite song lyrics in this, my "Poetry Anthology". By doing so, I hope to give you, dear reader, the opportunity to examine the work of some of these lyricists at close quarters. Once you have done so, I hope you will agree with me that all of these people are poets of the finest order?

On the subject of lyricists who are also poets, I would like to present to you a certain Mr. David Seville. This may be a name you are not familiar with. It is a name I was not familiar with until I recently searched Google for a piece of his work which is much better known than he is. I am referring to that wonderful song from (I believe) the 1950s, the song entitled My Friend the Witch Doctor. I am extremely proud to be able to exhibit the lyrics of this song for your edification, entertainment and enjoyment. Ladies and Gentlemen, My Friend the Witch Doctor.

Author Unknown, Champion The Wonder Horse

Like a streak of lightnin' flashin' cross the sky,
Like the swiftest arrow whizzin' from a bow,
Like a mighty cannonball he seems to fly.
You'll hear about him ever'where you go.
The time'll come when everyone will know
The name of Champion the Wonder Horse!

W.H.Auden, Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Georges Bizet, L'Amour Est Un Oiseau Rebelle

(From the Opera, Carmen)

Go to - Verse by verse translation

L'amour est un oiseau rebelle
Que nul ne peut apprivoiser
Et c'est bien en vain qu'on l'appelle
C'est lui qu'on vient de nous refuser

Rien n'y fait, menaces ou prieres
L'un parle bien, l'autre se tait
Et c'est l'autre que je prefere
Il n'a rien dit mais il me plait

L'amour, l'amour, l'amour, l'amour
L'amour est enfant de boheme
Il n'a jamais jamais connu de lois
Si tu ne m'aimes pas je t'aime
Si je t'aime prend garde a toi
Si tu ne m'aimes pas
Si tu ne m'aimes pas je t'aime
Mais si je t'aime, si je t'aime
Prends garde a toi

L'oiseau que tu croyais surprendre
Battit de l'aile et s'envola
L'amour est loin, tu peux l'attendre
Tu ne l'attends plus, il est la

Tout autour de toi, vite, vite
Il vient, s'en va puis il revient
Tu crois le tenir, il t'evite
Tu crois l'eviter, il te tient

Georges Bizet, L'Amour Est Un Oiseau Rebelle
(A verse by verse translation)

L'amour est un oiseau rebelle
Que nul ne peut apprivoiser
Et c'est bien en vain qu'on l'appelle
C'est lui qu'on vient de nous refuser

(Love is a rebel bird
That no one can tame
And it's in vain that we call him
It's him that just refused us)

Rien n'y fait, menaces ou prieres
L'un parle bien, l'autre se tait
Et c'est l'autre que je prefere
Il n'a rien dit mais il me plait

(Nothing's doing it, threats or prayers
One speaks well, the other shuts up
And it's the other I prefer
He didn't say a thing but he pleases me)

(Love, love, love, love
Love is a gypsy child
It never knew laws
If you don't love me I love you
If I love you watch out
If you don't love me
If you don't love me I love you
But if I love you, if I love you
Watch out)

L'oiseau que tu croyais surprendre
Battit de l'aile et s'envola
L'amour est loin, tu peux l'attendre
Tu ne l'attends plus, il est la

(The bird you thought to surprise
Flapped its wing and flew away
Love is far away, you can wait for it
You're no longer waiting for it, it's there)

Tout autour de toi, vite, vite
Il vient, s'en va puis il revient
Tu crois le tenir, il t'evite
Tu crois l'eviter, il te tient

(All around you, quickly, quickly
It comes, goes away and it comes back
You believe holding it, it moves away from you
You think you're away from it, it holds you)

William Blake, The Garden of Love

I laid me down upon a bank,
Where Love lay sleeping;
I heard among the rushes dank
Weeping, weeping.

Then I went to the heath and the wild,
To the thistles and thorns of the waste;
And they told me how they were beguiled,
Driven out, and compelled to the chaste.

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen;
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut
And "Thou shalt not," writ over the door;
So I turned to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore.

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tombstones where flowers should be;
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.

William Blake, The Tyger

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize thy fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And why thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors grasp?

When the stars threw down their spears
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Dana Bryant - Dominican Girdles

I was never one of those
big legged mamas
brothers was always
wet dreamin' about
and I could never understand why
every other woman
in my family was
adequately equiped
and fortified
with
brickhouse figures
of the most
monstrous proportions
at thirteen
The most I could hope for
Was the occassional
absent minded comment
about the size
shape and
exact location
of my
hard nipplied
bra-less breasts
'neath that
$14.99 Macy's - (Say: 14 dollar 99 Macy's)
special
purple polyester
ribbed knit
halter top
which I wore
five
out of every seven
days that summer
but what I really
coveted
were those
extra special
sashaying double seaters
my cousin
Big Gal
sported shamelessly
thirty four
twenty four
FORTY FOUR
I'm talking
depth and width
weeks passed
and I was still waitin'
for the blessed event of puberty
inflate particular
body parts
I wanted to know
what it meant to be
trussed up like a turkey
to hear heated sighs from my
balcony window
to be taken
eager
wet
like Zake sometimes got
OH YES
Askia Phillips
dope party
was in three days and I was invited
Well, not exactly invited
me and about 5 other
girls was
sitting on my stoop
satelliting Sepia
basking in the glow
of her new girl on the block
popularity
when Baybra Jones
half-stepped
and
shimmied
up the block
straight up in her face
yo
whatsup
mama sparkle and shine
right on be free baby love
goddam
I was undone
here
in living colour
was the effigy
to whom
I had
lit the candles of my
unrequited love
nightly
but I went to Brooklyn Tech
he was strictly Erasmus Hall
I watched
breathlessly
as he slid his
three by five
graffittied party invitation
into her left palm
Sepia
Goddess
was, by some strange twist of fate
to return home on Wednesday
two days before the party
it was my stoop so I
naturally
was invited to serve a proxy
to serve as sacrificial lamb
led to social slaughter
with
no ass
no hips
I was devastated
until my best friend Rosa
hipped me to a sure thing
the one means
by which I could
improve my deficit assets
Dominican Girdles
Pocket Padders
Bootie Boosters
the one we'd seen pictures of
in the back of Essence Magazine
which I could not afford
but
two hours before that party
my
narrow waist
cinched
by my mother's big black belt
my
oiled
soft and sheen
finely picked
neatly patted
sista Angela
afro
standing at full
attention
my spindley legs
teetering on
too small
buffalo sandals
my tiny panties
packed with every
scrap of fabric
we could find from our mothers'
sewing baskets
I stood
before myself in
Rosa's mirror
swaying
my makeshift hips
in ways she'd instructed
a sight
before tonight
unseen in the streets of Flatbush
a sight
who'd only recently
discovered the meaning
of the term
feminine wiles

Kate Bush, Between a Man and a Woman

With her hand in his hand,
They were both happy again.
You started taking sides.
They started arguing.
He said it was her fault.
She said it wasn't at all.
But the truth lies somewhere in the middle.

Where angels fear to tread,
You go rushing in.
Well, I had to tell you then,
And now I'm telling you again:

Stay out of this
You must not interfere
Don't you see this is
Between a man and a woman?

Every day and night I pray,
Pray that you will stay away forever.
It's so hard for love to stay together,
With the modern Western pressures.
I don't want to say it,
But I had to tell you then,
And now I'm telling you again:

Stay out of this.
Oh, I know you mean to help me,
And I know you've good intentions.
But stay out of this.
This isn't your problem.
Do not interfere--you are not needed here.
Let the pendulum swing
Between a man and a woman.
Don't you see? You're in the way--
Between a man and a woman.

Every day and night I pray,
Let the pendulum swing
Between a man and a woman.
Between a man and a woman.

Kate Bush, Cloud Busting

I still dream of Organon; I wake up crying.
You're making rain
and you're just in reach
When you and sleep escape me.
You're like my yo-yo that glowed in the dark.
What made it special
made it dangerous?
So I bury it and forget.

But every time it rains
You're here in my head like the sun coming out -
Oh
I just know that something good is going to happen;
I don't know when but just saying it could even make it happen.

On top of the world
looking over the edge
you could see them coming.
You looked too small in their big black car
To be a threat to the men in power.
I hid my yo-yo in the garden
I can't hide you from the government.

Oh God daddy
I won't forget.
'Cause every time it rains
You're here in my head like the sun coming out
Oh, I just know that something good is going to happen;
I don't know when but just saying it could even make it happen.

And every time it rains
You're here in my head like the sun coming out
Oh, I just know that something good is going to happen;
I don't know when but just saying it could even make it happen.
Just saying it could even make it happen.
Your sun's coming out - your sun's coming out.

Kate Bush, Deeper Understanding

As the people here grow colder
I turn to my computer
And spend my evenings with it
Like a friend.
I was loading a new programme
I had ordered from a magazine:
Are you lonely, are you lost?
This voice console is a must.
I press Execute.
Hello, I know that you've been feeling tired.
I bring you love and deeper understanding.
Hello, I know that you're unhappy.
I bring you love and deeper understanding.
Well I've never felt such pleasure.
Nothing else seemed to matter.
I neglected my bodily needs.
I did not eat, I did not sleep,
The intensity increasing,
'Til my family found me and intervened.
But I was lonely, I was lost,
Without my little black box.
I pick up the phone and go, Execute.
Hello, I know that you've been feeling tired.
I bring you love and deeper understanding.
Hello, I know that you're unhappy.
I bring you love and deeper understanding.
I turn to my computer like a friend.
I need deeper understanding.
Give me deeper understanding.

Kate Bush - Moments of Pleasure

I think about us lying
Lying on a beach somewhere
I think about us diving
Diving off a rock, into another moment

The case of George the Wipe
Oh God I can't stop laughing
This sense of humour of mine
It isn't funny at all
Oh but we sit up all night
Talking about it

Just being alive
It can really hurt
And these moments given
Are a gift from time

On a balcony in New York
It's just started to snow
He meets us at the lift
Like Douglas Fairbanks
Waving his walking stick
But he isn't well at all
The buildings of New York
Look just like mountains through the snow

Just being alive
It can really hurt
And these moments given
Are a gift from time
Just let us try
To give these moments back
To those we love
To those who will survive

And I can hear my mother saying
"Every old sock meets an old shoe"
Isn't that a great saying?
"Every old sock meets an old shoe"
Here come the Hills of Time

Leonard Cohen, I'm Your Man

If you want a lover
I'll do anything you ask me to
And if you want another kind of love
I'll wear a mask for you
If you want a partner
Take my hand
Or if you want to strike me down in anger
Here I stand
I'm your man
If you want a boxer
I will step into the ring for you
And if you want a doctor
I'll examine every inch of you
If you want a driver
Climb inside
Or if you want to take me for a ride
You know you can
I'm your man

Ah, the moon's too bright
The chain's too tight
The beast won't go to sleep
I've been running through these promises to you
That I made and I could not keep
Ah but a man never got a woman back
Not by begging on his knees
Or I'd crawl to you baby
And I'd fall at your feet
And I'd howl at your beauty
Like a dog in heat
And I'd claw at your heart
And I'd tear at your sheet
I'd say please, please
I'm your man

And if you've got to sleep
A moment on the road
I will steer for you
And if you want to work the street alone
I'll disappear for you
If you want a father for your child
Or only want to walk with me a while
Across the sand
I'm your man

If you want a lover
I'll do anything you ask me to
And if you want another kind of love
I'll wear a mask for you

Chris Difford and Glen Tilbrook, Labelled with Love

She unscrews the top of a new whiskey bottle
And shuffles about in her candle lit hovel,
Like some kind of witch with blue fingers in mittens
She smells like the cat and the neighbours she sickens,
The black and white t.v. has long seen a picture
The cross on the wall is a permanent fixture,
The postman delivers the final reminders
She sells off her silver and poodles in China.
Drinks to remember, I me and myself
And winds up the clock
And knocks dust from the shelf
Home is a love that I miss very much
So the past has been bottled and labelled with love.

During the war time an American pilot
Made every air raid a time of excitement,
She moved to his prairie and married the Texan
She learnt from a distance how love was a lesson,
He became drinker and she became mother
She knew that one day she'd be one or the other,
He ate himself older, drunk himself dizzy
Proud of her features, she kept herself pretty.

He like a cowboy died drunk in his slumber
Out on the porch in the middle of summer,
She crossed the ocean back home to her family
But they had retired to roads that were sandy,
She moved home alone without friends or relations
Lived in a world full of age reservation,
On moth eaten armchairs she'd say that she'd sod all
The friends who had left her to drink from the bottle.

Chris Difford and Glen Tilbrook, Up The Junction

I never thought it would happen
With me and the girl from clapham
Out on a windy common
That night I ain't forgotten
When she dealt out the rations
With some or other passions
I said you are a lady
Perhaps she said I may be

We moved into a basement
With thoughts of our engagement
We stayed in by the telly
Although the room was smelly
We spent our time just kissing
The railway arms were missing
But love had got us hooked up
And all our time it took up

I got a job with stanley
He said I'd come in handy
And started me on monday
So I had a bath on sunday
I worked eleven hours
And bought the girl some flowers
She said she'd seen a doctor
And nothing now could stop her

I worked all through the winter
The weather brass and bitter
I put away a tenner
Each week to make her better
And when the time was ready
We had to sell the telly
Late evenings by the fire
With little kicks inside her

This morning at 4:50
I took her rather nifty
Down to an incubator
Where thirty minutes later
She gave birth to a daughter
Within a year a walker
She looked just like her mother
If there could be another

And now she's two years older
Her mother's with a soldier
She left me when my drinking
Became a proper stinging
The devil came and took me
From bar to street to bookie
No more nights by the telly
No more nights nappies smelling

Alone here in the kitchen
I feel there's something missing
I'd beg for some forgiveness
But beggings not my business
And she wont write a letter
Although I always tell her
And so it's my assumption
Im really up the junction

John Donne - Elegy XX: To His Mistress Going to Bed

COME, madam, come, all rest my powers defy ;
Until I labour, I in labour lie.
The foe ofttimes, having the foe in sight,
Is tired with standing, though he never fight.
Off with that girdle, like heaven's zone glittering,
But a far fairer world encompassing.
Unpin that spangled breast-plate, which you wear,
That th' eyes of busy fools may be stopp'd there.
Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime
Tells me from you that now it is bed-time.
Off with that happy busk, which I envy,
That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.
Your gown going off such beauteous state reveals,
As when from flowery meads th' hill's shadow steals.
Off with your wiry coronet, and show
The hairy diadem which on you do grow.
Off with your hose and shoes ; then softly tread
In this love's hallow'd temple, this soft bed.
In such white robes heaven's angels used to be
Revealed to men ; thou, angel, bring'st with thee
A heaven-like Mahomet's paradise ; and though
Ill spirits walk in white, we easily know
By this these angels from an evil sprite ;
Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright.

Licence my roving hands, and let them go
Before, behind, between, above, below.
O, my America, my Newfoundland,
My kingdom, safest when with one man mann'd,
My mine of precious stones, my empery ;
How am I blest in thus discovering thee !
To enter in these bonds, is to be free ;
Then, where my hand is set, my soul shall be.

Full nakedness ! All joys are due to thee ;
As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be
To taste whole joys. Gems which you women use
Are like Atlanta's ball cast in men's views ;
That, when a fool's eye lighteth on a gem,
His earthly soul might court that, not them.
Like pictures, or like books' gay coverings made
For laymen, are all women thus array'd.
Themselves are only mystic books, which we
-Whom their imputed grace will dignify-
Must see reveal'd. Then, since that I may know,
As liberally as to thy midwife show
Thyself ; cast all, yea, this white linen hence ;
There is no penance due to innocence :
To teach thee, I am naked first ; why then,
What needst thou have more covering than a man?

John Donne - No man is an island

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manner of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

John Donne - Thou hast made me

Thou hast made me, and shall Thy work decay?
Repair me now, for now mine end doth haste;
I run to death, and death meets me as fast,
And all my pleasures are like yesterday.
I dare not move my dim eyes any way,
Despair behind, and death before doth cast
Such terror, and my feeble flesh doth waste
By sin in it, which it towards hell doth weigh.
Only Thou art above, and when towards Thee
By Thy leave I can look, I rise again;
But our old subtle foe so tempteth me
That not one hour myself I can sustain.
Thy grace may wing me to prevent his art,
And Thou like adamanto draw mine iron heart.

Ian Dury

Ian Dury, What a Waste?

I could be the driver an articulated lorry
I could be a poet I wouldn't need to worry
I could be a teacher in a classroom full of scholars
I could be the sergeant in a squadron full of wallahs
What a waste
What a waste
What a waste
What a waste

Because I chose to play the fool in a six-piece band,
First-night nerves every one-night stand.
I should be glad to be so inclined.
What a waste! What a waste!
But I don't mind.

I could be a lawyer with strategems and ruses
I could be a doctor with poultices and bruises
I could be a writer with a growing reputation
I could be the ticket man at Fulham Broadway Station
What a waste
What a waste
What a waste
What a waste

Because I chose to play the fool in a six-piece band,
First-night nerves every one-night stand.
I should be glad to be so inclined.
What a waste! What a waste!
But I don't mind.

I could be the catalyst that sparks the revolution
I could be an inmate in a long-term institution
I could dream to wide extremes, I could do or die
I could yawn and be withdrawn and watch the world go by
What a waste
What a waste
What a waste
What a waste

Because I chose to play the fool in a six-piece band,
First-night nerves every one-night stand.
I should be glad to be so inclined.
What a waste! What a waste!
But I don't mind.

Bob Dylan, It's alright Ma, I'm only bleedin'

Darkness At The Break Of Noon Shadows Even The Silver Spoon
The Hand Made Blade, The Child's Balloon Eclipses Both The Sun And Moon
To Understand You Know Too Soon There Is No Sense In Trying
Pointed Threats They Bluff With Scorn, Suicide Remarks Are Torn
From The Fool's Gold Mouthpiece, The Hollow Horn
Plays Wasted Words, Proves To Warn That He Not Busy Being Born Is Busy Dying
Temptation's Page Flies Out The Door, You Follow, Find Yourself At War
Watch Waterfalls Of Pity Roar, You Feel To Moan But Unlike Before
You Discover That You' Just Be One More Person Crying
So Don't Fear If You Hear A Foreign Sound To Your Ear
It's Alright Ma, I'm Only Sighing

As Some Warn Victory, Some Downfall, Private Reasons Great Or Small
Can Be Seen In The Eyes Of Those That Call
To Make All That Should Be Killed To Crawl
While Others Say Don't Hate Nothing At All Except Hatred
Disillusioned Words Like Bullets Bark As Human Gods Aim For Their Mark
Make Everything From Toy Guns That Spark
To Flesh Coloured Christs That Glow In The Dark
It's Easy To See Without Looking Too Far That Not Much Is Really Sacred
While Preachers Preach Of Evil Fates Teachers Teach That Knowledge Waits
Can Lead To Hundred Dollar Plates, Goodness Hides Behind Its Gates
But Even The President Of The United States Sometimes Must Have To Stand Naked
And Though The Rules Of The Road Have Been Lodged
It's Only People's Games That You've Got To Dodge
And It's Alright Ma, I Can Make It

Advertising Signs That Con You Into Thinking You're The One
That Can Do What's Never Been Done, That Can Win What's Never Been Won
Meantime Life Outside Goes On All Around You
You Lose Yourself, You Reappear You Suddenly Find You've Got Nothing To Fear
Alone You Stand With Nobody Near When A Trembling Distant Voice Unclear
Startles Your Sleeping Ears To Hear That Somebody Thinks They Really Found You
A Question In Your Nerves Is Lit Yet You Know There Is No Answer Fit
To Satisfy, Ensure You Not To Quit To Keep It In Your Mind And Not Forget
That It Is Not He Or She Or Them Or It That You Belong To
Although The Masters Make The Rules For The Wise Men And The Fools
I've Got Nothing, Ma, To Live Up To

For Them That Must Obey Authority That They Do Not Respect In Any Degree
Who Despise Their Jobs, Their Destinies Speak Jealously Of Them That Are Free
Cultivate Their Flowers To Be Nothing More Than Something They Invest In

While Some Unprinciples Baptize Too Strict Party Platform Ties
Social Clubs In Drag Disguise, Outsiders They Can Freely Criticize
Tell Nothing Except Who To Idolize And Say 'god Bless Him'
While One Who Sings With His Tongue On Fire Gargles In The Rat Race Choir
Bent Out Of Shape From Society's Pliers, Cares Not To Come Up Any Higher
But Rather Get You Down In The Hole That He's In
But I Mean No Harm Nor Put Fault On Anyone That Lives In A Vault
But It's Alright, Ma, If I Can't Please Him

Old Lady Judges Watch People In Pairs, Limited In Sex They Dare
To Push Fake Morals, Insultant Stares While Money Doesn't Talk, It Swears
Obscenity, Who Really Cares, Propaganda All Is Phony
While Them That Defend What They Cannot See With A Killer's Pride, Security
It Blows The Mind Most Bitterly For Them That Think Death's Honesty
Won't Fall Upon Them Naturally Life Sometimes Must Get Lonely
My Eyes Collide Head On With Stuffed Graveyards, False Goals, I Scuff
At Pettiness Which Plays So Rough, Walk Upside Down Inside Handcuffs
Kick My Legs To Crash It Off, Say Ok I've Had Enough
What Else Can You Show Me And If My Thought Dreams Could Be Seen
They'd Probably Put My Head In A Guillotine
But It's Alright Ma, It's Life And Life Only

Bob Dylan, Tangled up in blue

Early one morning the sun was shining,
I was layin' in bed
Wond'rin' if she'd changed at all
If her hair was still red.
Her folks they said our lives together
Sure was gonna be rough
They never did like Mama's homemade dress
Papa's bankbook wasn't big enough.
And I was standin' on the side of the road
Rain fallin' on my shoes
Heading out for the East Coast
Lord knows I've paid some dues gettin' through,
Tangled up in blue.

She was married when we first met
Soon to be divorced
I helped her out of a jam, I guess,
But I used a little too much force.
We drove that car as far as we could
Abandoned it out West
Split up on a dark sad night
Both agreeing it was best.
She turned around to look at me
As I was walkin' away
I heard her say over my shoulder,
"We'll meet again someday on the avenue,"
Tangled up in blue.

I had a job in the great north woods
Working as a cook for a spell
But I never did like it all that much
And one day the ax just fell.
So I drifted down to New Orleans
Where I happened to be employed
Workin' for a while on a fishin' boat
Right outside of Delacroix.
But all the while I was alone
The past was close behind,
I seen a lot of women
But she never escaped my mind, and I just grew
Tangled up in blue.

She was workin' in a topless place
And I stopped in for a beer,
I just kept lookin' at the side of her face
In the spotlight so clear.
And later on as the crowd thinned out
I's just about to do the same,
She was standing there in back of my chair
Said to me, "Don't I know your name?"
I muttered somethin' underneath my breath,
She studied the lines on my face.
I must admit I felt a little uneasy
When she bent down to tie the laces of my shoe,
Tangled up in blue.

She lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
"I thought you'd never say hello," she said
"You look like the silent type."
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Italian poet
From the thirteenth century.
And every one of them words rang true
And glowed like burnin' coal
Pourin' off of every page
Like it was written in my soul from me to you,
Tangled up in blue.

I lived with them on Montague Street
In a basement down the stairs,
There was music in the cafes at night
And revolution in the air.
Then he started into dealing with slaves
And something inside of him died.
She had to sell everything she owned
And froze up inside.
And when finally the bottom fell out
I became withdrawn,
The only thing I knew how to do
Was to keep on keepin' on like a bird that flew,
Tangled up in blue.

So now I'm goin' back again,
I got to get to her somehow.
All the people we used to know
They're an illusion to me now.
Some are mathematicians
Some are carpenter's wives.
Don't know how it all got started,
I don't know what they're doin' with their lives.
But me, I'm still on the road
Headin' for another joint
We always did feel the same,
We just saw it from a different point of view,
Tangled up in blue.

Max Ehrmann Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

Marianne Faithfull, Times Square

In a tired part of the city
Hiding from the fast talk
Watch 'Don't walk' to 'Walk'
Easy when you're dreaming
Staring at the movies
Standing in a circle,
Laughing at the wrong time.

If alcohol could take me there.
I'd take a shot a minute
And be there by the hour.

Take a walk around Times Square
With a pistol in my suitcase
And my eyes on the TV.

In a car taking a back seat
Staring out the window
Thinking about danger.
Playing in a wrong world
Fighting � but I'm not free.
Talking on the telephone
Talking about you and me.

If Jesus Christ could take me here
I'd fall dawn on my knees,
Have no questions to His answers.

Take a walk around Times Square
With a pistol in my suitcase
And my eyes on the TV.

Neil Finn and Tim Finn, Weather With You

Walking 'round the room singing
Stormy Weather
at 57 Mt. Pleasant St.
Now it's the same room but everything's different
You can fight the sleep but not the dream

Things ain't cookin' in my kitchen
Strange affliction wash over me
Julius Caesar and the Roman Empire
Couldn't conquer the blue sky

There's a small boat made of china
Going nowhere on the mantlepiece
Do I lie like a loungeroom lizard
Or do I sing like a bird released

Michael Flanders & Donald Swann, The Gnu Song

A year ago last thursday, I was strolling in the zoo
When I met a man who thought he knew the lot
He was laying down the law about the habbits of baboons
And the number of quills a porcupine has got
So I asked him "What's that creature's name?" and he answered "That's a helk!"
And I'd have gone on thinking that was true
If the animal in question hadn't put that chap to shame,
And remarked - "I ain't a helk - I'm a gnu!
I'm a gnu - I'm a gnu
The g - nicest work of g - nature in the zoo
I'm a gnu - how do you do?
You really oughtta g - know w - who's w - who
I'm a gnu - spelt G - N - U
I'm not a camel or a kangaroo
So let me introduce, I'm neither man nor moose
Oh, g - no, g - no, g - no, I'm a gnu!"

I had taken furnished lodgings down at Rustington - on - sea
Whence I travelled on to Aston - under - lyne
On the second night I stayed there I was wakened from a dream
Which I'll tell you all about some other time
Among the hunting trophies on the wall above my bed
Stuffed and mounted was a face I thought I knew
A bison? An okapi? Could it be a hearty beast?
Then I seem to hear a voice - "I'm a gnu!

I'm a gnu - a - g - nother gnu
I wish I could g - nash my teeth at you
I'm a gnu - how do you do?
You really oughtta g - know w - who's w - who
I'm a gnu - spelt G - N - U
Call me bison or okapi and I'll sue
Nor am I in the least like that dreadful hearty beast
Oh, g - no, g - no, g - no, I'm a gnu!
G - no, g - no, g - no, I'm a gnu!
G - no, g - no, g - no, I'm a gnu!"

Christina Gebhart, Ventor in Winter

(Written some time circa the first gulf war, when Christina
was living and working on the Isle of Wight

Sitting in the front room
Of this cosy little shack
Watching U.S. Soldiers Bomb
The crap out of Iraq
Whilst in Ventnor High Street
The hordes of OAPs
Doff their hats in greeting
And life it takes its ease.
Antiquary and Curio shops
Sell frogs made out of shells
No litter, lager - louts or yobs
No dirt or petrol smells
The ice-cream stalls are boarded up
The deck chairs now are free
Above the town the misted hills
Roll down towards the sea
The gentle melancholy
Of a town that hibernates
For Summer heat and cheerful crowds
Ventnor, Waits.

Richard Gillard (with absolutely no apologies to Philip Larkin,
Who deserves to be ripped off, for the piece of filth on which
these lines were, with the change of just one word, unashamedly based)

I want to see them starving,
The so-called management class
Their wages yearly halving
Their women stewing grass.

I do not believe that the working classes could ever have deserved this poem in its original form. I believe that Britain's Management classes, in this current day and age, deserve it a hundred fold. They are milking our industry dry for their own selfish ends. Every day British Companies treat their staff and their customers like shit. We let them get away with it. We should not be letting them get away with it. We should be disemboweling them and hanging them from lamp posts.

It is no longer acceptable to blame globalisation for the ills of British society. No matter what they tell you, we do not have low wages and unemployment, in this country, because there are people in other countries who are willing to do the same work as the British, but for less money. We have low wages and unemployment in this country because there are greedy, evil, acquisative, uncultured pigs, in charge of British Industry, who are willing to take advantage of the fact that there are people in other countries who are willing to do the same work as the British, but for less money.

If the Captains of British Industry were honest, hardworking people, with integrity, a concience and a genuine concern for their customers, the people they employed and the community as a whole, this country could still be great. The reason that England is in a moribund state, and make no mistake about it, this country is moribund, is because in this place, England, at this time, the start of the 21st Century, "The Captains of Industry" are filth. There really is no other word for them.

I want to see them starving,
The so-called management class
Their wages yearly halving
Their women stewing grass.

Richard Gillard, A Hymn to the Catholic Church

As you will probably notice, when the following was written, I had taken a pretty dimn view of the Catholic Faith in which I was raised. I am currently reconsidering my attitude to the Catholic Church. However, even if it is beginning to come good, there have nevertheless been times when it seems as if it was Satan, rather than God, that lead the Catholic Church. I am talking primarily about the time, during which the church was in the hands of religious fundamentalists. I do not like fundamentalists, of any persuasion. In every single case, I believe that it is Satan, rather than God, who leads them.

With regard to the Catholic Church, I am no historian, so I could not begin to guess precisely when it was that things started to go wrong. There may have been some serious negative influences during the time of the Emperor Constantine. There may have been a number of political, as well as religious considerations, which resulted in the famous Nicean Council. However, I suspect that the rot really set in, when Ferdinand and Isabella threw the Moors out of Spain. It was probably not long after that that the Spanish Inquisition started torturing heritics and burning them to death.

It is rating you opinions at a very high price, to burn a man alive on the strength of them.

Ladies and Gentlemen: The Poem, Wot I wrote:

She praised poverty, exulted to suffer
For in sin had mankind all been born
To be purged then, was life's soul intention
To aspire, to love life, was forlorn.

The people to suffering she brought them
To prepare them for heaven, she said
To lay down their lives she'd exalt them
Against pagan and druid and vent
All their bitterness, malice and misery
On their children, their manhood to rent.

The pagans were burnt in their thousands
The Red Indians were robbed of their land
Fair nature was branded a devil
And beauty was marred through the land.

But the years have brought wisdom and learning
The people's blind eyes start to see
Again men to each other are turning
Distrustful of deities unseen.

Richard Gillard, On Getting Older

Ideas, like water, permeate through my brain
Some days, this takes a little time
But, most often ...
They get there in the end.

Bobby Goldsboro, Summer, The First Time

It was a hot afternoon
Last day of June
And the sun was a demon
The clouds were afraid
One-ten in the shade
And the pavement was steaming
I told Billy-Ray
In his red Chevrolet
I needed time for some thinking
I was just walking by
When I looked in her eye
And I swore it was winking
She was 31 and I was 17
I knew nothing about love
She knew everything
And I sat down beside her on the front porch swing
And wondered what the coming night would bring
The sun closed her eyes
As it climbed in the sky
And it started to swelter
The sweat trickled down the front of her gown
And I thought it would melt her
She threw back her hair
Like I wasn't there
And she sipped on a julep
Her shoulders were bare
And I tried not to stare
When I looked at her two lips.
And when she looked at me
I heard her softly say
I know you're young
You don't know what to do or say
But stay with me until the sun has gone away
And I will chase the boy in you away
And then she smiled and we talked for a while
And we walked for a mile to the sea
We sat on the sand, and a boy took her hand
But I saw the sun rise as a man
Ten years have gone by
Since I looked in her eye
But the memory lingers
I go back in my mind
To the very first time
And feel the touch of her fingers
It was a hot afternoon
Last day of June
And the sun was a demon
The clouds were afraid
One-ten in the shade
And the pavement was steaming
I told Billy-Ray
In his red Chevrolet
I needed time for some thinking
I was just walking by
When I looked in her eye
And I swore it was winking

Thomas Hood, November

No sun no moon!
No morn no noon!
No dawn no dusk no proper time of day
No sky no earthly view
No distance looking blue

No road no street
No "t'other side the way"
No end to any Row
No indications where the Crescents go

No top to any steeple
No recognitions of familiar people
No courtesies for showing 'em
No knowing 'em!

No mail no post
No news from any foreign coast
No park no ring no afternoon gentility
No company no nobility

No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds,
November!

Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, 2000 Light Years From Home

Sun turnin' 'round with graceful motion
We're setting off with soft explosion
Bound for a star's fiery oceans
It's so very lonely, you're a hundred light years from home

Freezing red deserts turn to dark
Energy here in every part
It's so very lonely, you're six hundred light years from home

It's so very lonely, you're a thousand light years from home
It's so very lonely, you're a thousand light years from home

Bell flight fourteen you now can land
Seen you on Aldebaran, safe on the green desert sand
It's so very lonely, you're two thousand light years from home
It's so very lonely, you're two thousand light years from home

Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, Gimme Shelter

Oh, a storm is threat'ning
My very life today
If I don't get some shelter
Oh yeah, I'm gonna fade away

War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away

Ooh, see the fire is sweepin'
Our very street today
Burns like a red coal carpet
Mad bull lost its way

War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away

The floods is threat'ning
My very life today
Gimme, gimme shelter
Or I'm gonna fade away

War, children, it's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
It's just a shot away
I tell you love, sister, it's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
It's just a kiss away
Kiss away, kiss away

Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, Heartbreaker

The police in New York City
Chased a boy right through the park.
In a case of mistaken identity
They put a bullet through his heart.

Heart breakers with your forty four
I wanna tear your world apart.
You heart breaker with your forty four
I wanna tear your world apart.

A ten year old girl on a street corner
Sticking needles in her arm.
She died in the dirt of an alleyway
Her mother said she had no chance, no chance!
Heart breaker, heart breaker
She stuck the pins right in her heart.
Heart breaker, pain maker
Stole the love right out of your heart.

Heart breaker, heart breaker
You stole the love right out of my heart
Heart breaker, heart breaker
I wanna tear your world apart

Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, Out of Control

I was out in the city
I was out in the rain
I was feeling down hearted
I was drinking again

I was standing by the bridges
Where the deep water flows
I was talking to a stranger
About times long ago

I was young
I was foolish
I was angry
I was vain
I was charming
I was lucky
Tell me how have I changed

And the girls in the doorway
And the boys on the game
And the drunks and the homeless
They all know me

And the police on the corner
Give a nod and a wave
As they point me
To my final destination

I was young
I was foolish
I was angry
I was vain
I was charming
I waslucky
Tell me how have I changed

In the hotel I'm excited
By the smile on her face
But I wondered
How was time
Gonna change her

I was young
I was foolish
I was angry
I was vain
I was charming
I was out there
Tell me how have I changed

Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, (She's A) Rainbow

She comes in colours everywhere.
She combs her hair.
She's like a rainbow.
Coming, colours in the air.
Oh, everywhere,
She comes in colours.

Have you seen her dressed in blue?
See the sky in front of you.
And her face is like a sail.
Speck of white so fair and pale.
Have you seen a lady fairer?

She comes in colours everywhere.
She combs her hair.
She's like a rainbow.
Coming, colours in the air.
Oh, everywhere,
She comes in colours.

Have you seen her all in gold?
Like a queen in days of old.
She shoots her colours all around.
Like a sunset going down.
Have you seen a lady fairer?

She comes in colours everywhere.
She combs her hair.
She's like a rainbow.
Coming, colours in the air.
Oh, everywhere,
She comes in colours

She's like a rainbow.
Coming, colours in the air.
Oh, everywhere,
She comes in colours

Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, Saint of Me

Saint Paul the persecutor
Was a cruel and sinful man
Jesus hit him with a blinding light
And then his life began
I said yeah
I said yeah

Augustin knew temptation
He loved women, wine and song
And all the special pleasures
Of doing something wrong
I said yeah
I said yeah

I said yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
You'll never make a saint of me
Oh yeah, oh yeah
You'll never make a saint of me

And could you stand the torture
And could you stand the pain
Could you put your faith in Jesus
When you're burning in the flames

I said yes, I said yeah
I said yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
You'll never make a saint of me
Oh yeah, oh yeah
You'll never make a saint of me

And I do believe in miracles
And I want to save my soul
And I know that I'm a sinner
I'm gonna die here in the cold

I said yes, I said yeah
I said yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
You'll never make a saint of me
Oh yeah, oh yeah
You'll never make a saint of me
Oh yeah, oh yeah
You'll never make a saint of me
Oh yeah, oh yeah
You'll never make a saint of me

I thought I heard an angel cry
I thought I saw a teardrop falling from his eye
John the Baptist was a martyr
But he stirred up Herod's hate
And Salome got her wish
To have him served up on a plate

I said yes
I said yeah,
I said yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah
You'll never make a saint of me
Oh yeah, oh yeah
You'll never make a saint of me
Oh yeah, oh yeah
You'll never make a saint of me
Oh yeah, oh yeah
You'll never make a saint of me

I thought I heard an angel cry
I thought I saw a teardrop falling from his eye
I thought I saw an angel cry
You'll never make a saint of me
You'll never make a saint of me

Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, Wild Horses

Childhood living is easy to do
The things you wanted I bought them for you
Graceless lady you know who I am
You know I can't let you slide through my hands

I watched you suffer a dull aching pain
Now you decided to show me the same
No sweeping exits or offstage lines
Could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind

I know I dreamed you a sin and a lie
I have my freedom but I don't have much time
Faith has been broken, tears must be cried
Let's do some living after we die

Grace Slick of Jefferson Airplane - White Rabbit

One pill makes you larger
And one pill makes you small
And the ones that mother gives you
Don't do anything at all
Go ask Alice
When she's ten feet tall

And if you go chasing rabbits
And you know you're going to fall
Tell 'em a hookah smoking caterpillar
Has given you the call
Call Alice
When she was just small

When men on the chessboard
Get up and tell you where to go
And you've just had some kind of mushroom
And your mind is moving slow
Go ask Alice
I think she'll know

When logic and proportion
Have fallen sloppy dead
And the White Knight is talking backwards
And the Red Queen's "off with her head!"
Remember what the dormouse said;
"FEED YOUR HEAD!"
"FEED YOUR HEAD!"

John Keats, La Belle Dame Sans Merci

Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

Oh what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the harvest's done.

I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever-dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful - a faery's child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.

I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.

I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bend, and sing
A faery's song.

She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna-dew,
And sure in language strange she said -
'I love thee true'.

She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she wept and sighed full sore,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
With kisses four.

And there she lulled me asleep
And there I dreamed - Ah! woe betide! -
The latest dream I ever dreamt
On the cold hill side.

I saw pale kings and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
They cried - 'La Belle Dame sans Merci
Hath thee in thrall!'

I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gaped wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
On the cold hill's side.

And this is why I sojourn here
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

Philip Larkin

Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller, Jailhouse Rock

The warden threw a party in the county jail.
The prison band was there and they began to wail.
The band was jumpin and the joint began to swing.
You should've heard those knocked out jailbirds sing.
Lets rock, everybody, lets rock.
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancin to the jailhouse rock.

Spider murphy played the tenor saxophone,
Little joe was blowin on the slide trombone.
The drummer boy from illinois went crash, boom, bang,
The whole rhythm section was the purple gang.
Lets rock, everybody, lets rock.
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancin to the jailhouse rock.

Number forty-seven said to number three:
You're the cutest jailbird I ever did see.
I sure would be delighted with your company,
Come on and do the jailhouse rock with me.
Lets rock, everybody, lets rock.
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancin to the jailhouse rock.

The sad sack was a sittin on a block of stone
Way over in the corner weepin all alone.
The warden said, hey, buddy, dont you be no square.
If you cant find a partner use a wooden chair.
Lets rock, everybody, lets rock.
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancin to the jailhouse rock.

Shifty henry said to bugs, for heavens sake,
No ones lookin, nows our chance to make a break.
Bugsy turned to shifty and he said, nix nix,
I wanna stick around a while and get my kicks.
Lets rock, everybody, lets rock.
Everybody in the whole cell block
Was dancin to the jailhouse rock.

Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller, Love Potion Number Nine

I took my troubles down to Madame Ruth
You know that gypsy with the gold-capped tooth
She's got a pad down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine
Sellin' little bottles of Love Potion Number Nine

I told her that I was a flop with chics
I've been this way since 1956
She looked at my palm and she made a magic sign
She said "What you need is Love Potion Number Nine"

She bent down and turned around and gave me a wink
She said "I'm gonna make it up right here in the sink"
It smelled like turpentine and looked like Indian ink
I held my nose, I closed my eyes, I took a drink

I didn't know if it was day or night
I started kissin' everything in sight
But when I kissed a cop down on Thirty-Fourth and Vine
He broke my little bottle of Love Potion Number Nine

John Lennon Imagine

Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

John Lennon, Working Class Hero

As soon as you're born they make you feel small,
By giving you no time instead of it all,
'Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all.

A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.

They hurt you at home and they hit you at school,
They hate you if you're clever and they despise a fool,
'Till you're so fucking crazy you can't follow their rules.

A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.

When they've tortured and scared you for twenty odd years,
And then they expect you to pick a career,
But you really can't function you're so full of fear.

A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.

Keep you doped with religion and sex and TV,
And you think you're so clever and classless and free,
But you're still fucking peasents as far as I can see.

A working class hero is something to be,
A working class hero is something to be.

There's room at the top they are telling you still,
But first you must learn how to smile as you kill,
If you want to live like the folks on the hill.

A working class hero is something to be.
A working class hero is something to be.

In my own view, Marianne Faithful's rendition of this song is slighty superior to John Lennon's own version. To my own mind, this is because John's Lyrics are amazing. Marianne Faithful annunciates those lyrics slightly better than John. It was not until I heard her renditions that I really heard the words, really discovered what this song was all about.

Ewan MacColl, Manchester Hiker's Song

(AKA The Manchester Rambler)

I've been over Snowdon, I've slept up on Crowden,
I've camped by the Wain Stones as well,
I've sunbathed on Kinder, been burnt to a cinder,
And many more things I can tell.
My rucksack has oft been my pillow,
The heather has oft been my bed,
And sooner than part from the mountains,
I think I would rather be dead.