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Narrative Lyric Poems | Narrative Poems About Lyric

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Heinrich Heine Revisited

I can clearly sense your utter despair of Der Matratzengruft*
As you valiantly carried on your poetic works to the very end.
This did not change your literary accomplishments well-known,
And your courage through the misery and morphine* is undeniable.

Your lyrical poetry speaks volumes among all of German literature,
And it was most marvelously set to music by the likes of Schumann,
Schubert, Silcher, Mendelssohn, Brahms, and Strauss—to name a few. 
Their melodic tones as applied to your verses then, now live on forever!

Your role in and principal contributions to Romanticism fall in line
With the highest quality of your poetic language and its intention.
Your role in battling early nineteenth-century censorship in Prussia set 
You out front of many of your contemporaries who resisted much less.

It’s so tragic Herr Heine that your literary resistance so prominent in
Challenging Prussian censorship would make you ever so more noted,
And besmirched as the Nazis in 1933 burned your books and those of
Other German scholars as a reflection of their insane and twisted beliefs!

It’s with great irony indeed that the banning and burning of your works by 
The Nazis was parodied further by them as they ignobly quoted and used
Your famous line from “Almansor,”* when you likened that “where books 
Are burned, in the end people will be burned too.” We know what they did!

And so, with both honor and sadness I do understand the very cry of lament
From the confines of your mattress-grave about your final exquisite poetry,
Written through writhing pain and tears as you faced the end of your life.
It took great courage to face your end like this while staying true to your Muse!

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (December 15, 2014) 
(Narrative Quatrain poetic format)

AUTHOR’S NOTES:
*Der Matratzengruft from the German means “The Mattress-Grave.” 
(Heinrich Heine was confined to his bed, his “mattress-grave,” in 1848
with various illnesses until his eventual death eight years later in 1856.)

*Heine poetically referred to his pain predicament in the poem “Morphine,”
written near the end of his life, when he noted in two famous verses: 
“Gut is der Schlaf, der Tod ist besser—freilich / Das beste waere, nie
Geboren sein.” (In English: “Sleep is good, Death is better—of course, /
Best of all would be never to have been born.”)

*Almansor was a play written by Heine in 1821 that had a most famous 
line in German: “Das war ein Vorspiel nur, dort wo man Buecher verbrennt,
verbrennt man auch am Ende Menschen.” (Rendered in English: “That was
but a prelude; where they burn books, they will ultimately burn people as
well.”) The significance here is that as the Nazis burned the books of Heine
and other German artists on the Opernplatz in Berlin in 1933, they actually
celebrated this event by “engraving” Heine’s famous words from “Almansor”
in the ground at the Opernplatz site. The obvious depravity of this terrible
event reflects the innate cruelty, stupidity and evil of the Nazis as they 
burned the books and defiled the names and reputations of Heine and other 
famous German writers. Their actions were monstrous and shameful, and 
were indicative of mankind’s base instincts at their very worst. Moreover, 
despite converting to Protestantism from Judaism in 1825, Heine’s Jewish 
origins played a continuing presence in his life and were one of the major 
factors for his being scapegoated by the Nazis later in 1933. And besides,
the Nazis were always more interested in burning books, rather than 
reading them!  


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BEN HUR ARKANSAS

I've  been a lot of  places in this land, 
From sea to shining sea. 
There's a  place in the hills of Arkansas
That means more than them all to me,
A little wildwood church where people meet 
To praise the Lord above. 
They don't have a lot of money,
But they're rich in a thing called love

You'll  see a friendly smile upon each face   
The moment you walk  in. 
They'll make you feel so loved and right at home,
That you'll want to go  back again. 
They will pour you out a cup of kindness
And hospitality; 
Then they'll take you home and feed you,
And they'll treat you like family.

You're always more than welcome; 
There's no lock upon the door. 
There's preaching and singing and praising the Lord, 
And they know what the altar's for. 
Don't look for a grand cathedral, 
Standing proud and tall; 
It’s a humble little church, beside the road, 
At Ben Hur Arkansas.


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Shut Your Dirty Mouth

Tonight I thought I shook off a roach. Swore I felt it approach. Imagined it crawling down
my throat. My Dad came out from the den and asked What’s Wrong? I said, Nothing, I’m fine
when I still felt bits of dead roach nesting in my spine. That’s Divine.

I feel the Holy Spirit in me tonight. Jesus Christ! I must have done right! Don’t come
near me, I’m contaminated, clearly. Oh, God, need me! So that the sky doesn’t turn black
every time I look up to seek your advice. My chips are stacked, I’ve got them wracked.
Roll the dice six six six every time. On my Dime. I think I may have crossed the line.
Maybe I’m sick. Maybe I’m not hip to this.

Maybe I just need to settle down. Take a breath. Take a pill. Sit real still. Stare until
I become comatose blare my music so loud that my eyes become brazen and I can’t hear what
you’re saying.

Do roaches bite? I wonder at night. As I hide beneath the covers that used to shield us
from one another. Protect us from the evils in this world, bring no harm to little girls.
Now they just cover up old condoms and dirty food crumbs.

Numb. Numb. Numb. Can’t move. Limbs feel numb, limbs feel wrung, limbs feel slung,
stammering and slurring like grandma after her stroke.

This is a joke. The world’s a joke. We’re a joke.

Then why aren’t we laughing? Why aren’t we guffawing until our paws fall off, our mittens
become smitten and we cough up our dirty lungs with joy.

Oh boy, here I go again. If this is a joke why aren’t we laughing? Why aren’t we guffawing
until our paws fall off, our mittens become smitten and we cough up our dirty lungs with joy.


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Prophecy

The times of which the prophets wrote is taking shape at last. It won't be long till 
that fateful day we hear the trumpets blast.
The bright blue heavens will disappear, as the stars drop out of sight, the 
stillness in our hearts as each day turns to night.

The times of which the prophets wrote we won't have long to wait.
As this was written long ago our destiny our fate.
We've walked not a straight and narrow path now it's time to pay our dues.
It seems the fate of all mankind is in the hands of fools.

This Prophecy is not hard to see it's the coming of the end.
On that day we're all forgiven and free to start again.
The nightmare that we all will share we don't have long to wait.
Yes it was written long ago, our Destiny, our Fate


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Not So Perfect

Here she comes, walking with pride.
Her face is so vibrant, she looks so alive.
Nothing can stop her, no one dares to try.
Her entire life is corroded with deals, tricks, and lies. 
Her beauty is everything, her smile kills all 
It brings down the strongest men, makes the highest building fall.
But when she comes home,
The story does change.
Her life’s not so perfect,
The positions rearrange.
Her father's an alcoholic, and not very nice.
She has a brother who gave up on school, and can’t read or write 
Of all of her family, her mother is the worse. 
Sometimes she wonders if she'll survive this curse.
He mother yells,and tells her that she's no good.
She would give it all up, if only she could.
At the end of the night she goes into her room,
She begins to weep, and eventually cries herself to sleep.
She wakes up the next day,
Puts on a happy face,
And goes to school as if nothing happened the previous night,
Or that absolutely nothing is wrong with her life.
So now that you’ve seen what’s behind the closed door,
I hoped you’ve thought about this girl a little more.
With the utmost respect,
I present to you, the life of someone "perfect".


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Thunder and Lighting

Love is prominent but lies are still troubling the arch in my back is still aching  thru my core/ To calm to peaceful Today not enough appreciation from you
You make me feel less important.
 How many more audition do I need to perform for you?
 Your Personality changes like the weather negative energy creates “Thunder and Lighting” 
   Your Ego is higher then the altitude in Denver 
You are the weather that changes everyday I never knew when its cold are warm 
Today I was prepared for a Sunny day / But  like the weather you change unpredictably have me puzzled just wondering Why?
 I was not prepared for your  precipitation/ you never allow me to grasp your feelings never appreciate my love  you was only  obsessed with yourself and not my heart.  When its cloudy or rainy outside my vision gets a little blur and  fuzzy when you are around.

Meteorologist Predicate Sunny and warm air with the chances of early morning cloudiness’


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The Final Confessions II

These were my confessions
(A message to God)
The light begins to fade
(It’s time to go)
Back into the shadows
(That hard black fog)
Where darkness has its way
(God rest your soul)

Nothing left to tell you
(It’s all been said)
No more songs to write
(This silent Fall)
Nothing left to offer 
(The well’s been bled)
From a shadow’s waning life
(Who lost it all)

Take my words and hold them
(Don’t be afraid)
Place them near your heart
(And heal your pain)
Shadow words will kiss you
(And heal your pain)
When your world turns dark
(Don’t’ be afraid)

And I kiss you
Kiss you
I kiss you in the dark……..


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Broken home

Remax can sale you a home but can't sale you happiness. I never visit the state of Georgia but things do get a little peaches. See this what happens when you eat finger food and take out orders. I never receive your Southern Hospitality/ I couldn’t even receive a  plate of food you cook/ you can finally see now when I walk away out your life forever I don’t even have a single word for you. Only thing you will receive from me is this middle finger. You was taught at young age to go to School and learn in Class. But surely class can’t teach you “CLASS”!!

 A moment silent   things were so quiet and  complicate in the beginning I thought we could have reconnect /But just like the chips to connect four they don’t always stay in the same order. You had play a handful of games and this when the “Battleship” games has to end. Now I hope you feel the water rise from your sinking ship and allow your tears to fumble into your lap.


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Urge To Smile

Urge To Smile
By Nate Spears


The morning sun rises
My flesh is set back 
Due to my body needing 
Much needed rest
I wonder 
Does anyone else feel 
the urge to smile?
I know right now 
I'm feeling sour


A grin attached to my face
That lights up the sky
Behind my clouds of joy 
There lies a lie
With everyone wondering how?
How can he smile
with so much going on
Rapidly by the hour
People losing their homes


Some can barely feed their kids
The government is gone
They rather spend our money 
On billion dollar drones
Never the less
We're blessed
We're here to see another day
Being healthy and relevant
Gives me strength
To soar into a new day
With unlimited fight 
Packed up under my wings


Another day 
Another chance
For tomorrow 
Thanks in advance
As long as I'm living
I can better my condition 
It's mandatory to smile
A privilege to be living.


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The Final Confessions I

These are my confessions
Secrets of my mind
Everything that mattered
Truth I can not hide

Nothing but a shadow
Distant memory
What I was, What I am
What I’m supposed to be

Forgive me, God, forgive me
For being so unkind
Impatient…ungrateful
Cynical and blind

To those who thought they knew me
And those who never did
To those who hear my songs 
In the places where they live

I offer my confessions
Honest to the core
Offer my confessions
There won’t be anymore

No more…


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In Pleasure

In Pleasure          
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 in “Death OF A Rose” By Nate Spears


White suit, top hat, pride feeling higher than spectacular 
The ugly duckling has opened a new chapter
Revealing transformation that’s becoming a true sensation
Buried in his inaugural feelings of gold treatment
There’s always a silver lining after the disaster
Every battle, each day 
Sanity is mastered
Life tries to defeat us, expiration tries to meets us
But tonight he’s on top of the world
He’s on top of Thee
He’s on top of a feathered fame beak 
This is one hell of a duckling I must proclaim.
Our love floats in current 
Through the City of Jacks
You’re the only Queen of my deck 
As we coast along these sparkling waters splashing our tails
The momentum of the St. Johns River flows to a love hotel
Vapors of our spirits arises above
Elevating beyond the skies
There’s no limit tonight 
As my mind is blown on cloud nine 
With love and happiness is in the atmosphere
Scrolling the screams of these peaceful waters 
With mean swagger
This night is unbelievable 
Unbelievable is this; unbelievable I won’t miss
 
I was once viewed as a total tragedy, with no immunity from havoc
Or grievance
Frowned upon by my community as a under achiever
As if I was an oil spill disaster 
With no relief at hand, 
But to tonight I clean up well with Dawn
 
The river flows peacefully after the storm deforms
Accompanied by grace, I’m accompanied by love
Accompanying my side 
Is a woman of grace.
As we keep our heads above these judgmental waters in Florida
The rivers will flow to Fingers Point
At the end of this place called home sweet home tonight
I’m just a kiss away 
From the Full Moonlight.
 


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ECLECTIC ELECTRIC

 Fender strung upside down
 big hands pressing strings to frets.
 Woodstocks’ last scheduled act, Jimi 
 exercized his “Right to Free Speech.”
The world heard an eclectic electric version
of  “Star Spangled Banner.” Those notes still
reverberate “All Along the Watchtower.”

“Hey Joe,” “Are You Experienced?”

 “WELL, I AM !”



*To honor Jimi Hendrix in Raul Moreno's contest.


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A HUMOUROUS NARRATIVE FOR LYRIC MAN

Dave made a comment about his cowboy boots so I simply had to weave this joke into a little narrative

An elderly couple moved to Texas and the old man had always wanted some cowboy boots
Guess he dreamed of being a cowboy and getting involved in shootouts
So he buys the boots and walks into the kitchen wearing them like a prize
He asks his wife if she notices anything different but she says nothing
He gets a bit annoyed, goes off and strips naked except for the boots
‘Notice anything different now?’ he says to his wife
She looks down at him and says…
‘What’s different – its hanging down today.. it was hanging down yesterday and it will be again tomorrow’.
Well he’s not too happy and says ’and do you know why it’s hanging down?’
‘No’ she says
‘It’s hanging down because it’s looking at my new cowboy boots’
She doesn’t change her expression and replies
‘Shoulda bought a hat dear, you shoulda bought a hat’

Hope it raises a smile!

Jan Allison
18th August 2014


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Summer Waterfall

Deep in the woods I hear an angel's lyrical call.
Tranquil and serene, a majestic summer waterfall.
Where the oaks and wildflowers shade the creek,
reflections fall to earth from rays of destiny,
refreshing my soul and setting my spirit free.
I smell the aroma of rain mixed with the paradise breeze.
Tranquil and serene, a natural wonder and rainbow of peace.
A cascading sparkling jewel,
above a wave rippling whirlpool.
Upon the wind rides the angel's lyrical call.
Tranquil and serene, a majestic summer waterfall.


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Thoughts of myself - Section 1

Ayo, Once upon a time...
Their was a young brave renegade
That would love someone solely than detonate
Than pick up the pieces and try to renovate
Just so he can runaway, and escape just to celebrate
He'd instigate and penetrate in almost anyway
He had no friends, cause they'd die, and souls would levitate
Always showed more love than hate, because he was his own medicaid
Only musically meditated, not truly educated but solely dedicated
To leave this world devastated, and "awe" within his presence
Cause I'll verbally murder peasants and it's not so pleasant
When this is their death sentence, Leaving them jealous
When they go to hell, and I'm attending the heavens
But the thoughts of you snap me right back
To the love and adolescence trapped behind a time gap
It's like I took a nap to relax and pass these lonely facts
But I got passed it, and regained my own passion
Passing by my own patronized actions
Probably now just pacifying and laughing trying to imagine
Why I was so maddened, I'm like a wolf blowing down pigs cabins
I'm the captain shooting lyrical cannons trying to capture the captive
The caption to the story is "Aladdin's reconnection with his Jasmine"
But it's forever lost, cause life it's not magic
It's just a tragic damaged planet filled with only havoc
Happiness is riddled upon his own sadness

Please move on to section 2!


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Thoughts of myself - Section 2

Section 2.

This is where you saddle up, and battle back
I'm sick of kids babbling and baffling
About stuff that'll never happen
Maybe I should be reverberating and throwing verbal attacks
Rehearsing and planning my verbally tactics
I'll be versing and throwing down my verses
And certainly cursing with my first words
I'll disperse and hurt and burn this world
I'll slaughter the gods, and it'd need some audible gauze
Even the titans would be frightened, and they'd outta applause
And stand for my cause, For R.A, And Vinnie Paz
For hip-hop to stay alive, Cause "Legends never die"
All we do is just "Carry on traditions"
Just new people, with new ambitions giving new definitions
With new visions that we will never be missing
We'll be hitting and spitting and carrying this out with our existence
But the distances between this twisted system
Is just us forever living, Gifted kids on there cosmic shit
Comically causing and costing our own cosmic consciousness
For calling and catering our cautiousness, and stomping over whacks emcees confidence
Preparing to constantly conquer all the continents
But not ready for compliments, cause I don't even have an audience
But with this dominance I should be destroying the awesome-est
I'm so monstrous when I write up on these documents
I'm probably properly populating my honestness
And it's quite obvious I'm calling it, quite the dominant opposite of your own conscious gift
Honestly my hypothesis is if I had everyone behind me at metropolis, I'd remain anonymous.


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All About Her

I dont know much about her
but I heard she wasnt that talkative
She didnt like being alive
She was numb to all the pain she had to go through

I heard she didnt like anything that was green
She ate roman noodles everynight for supper
She always wore flannels and bellbottoms
Sometimes i seen her wear dresses and fancy tops
But lately shes been wearing band shirts

She wears converse shoes and uses an army bag for school
I know that she dosent like to communicate through talking... only through her peoms
or sometimes even her songs.

I see her drawing and painting all the time
She draws famous people
She would like to be famous and not so unknown
When she tries to speak to anyone they always walk away and leave her alone

When she gets home she goes upstairs to play her bass guitar
She hates chocolate cake but loves chocolate
Her family left her behind because she cant forget her past

Sometimes when shes alone she contemplates the meaning behind her life
Her favorite color is gray because her life is black and white
Everything she says is false according to the world

She is not so innocent
I understand that she dreams about the perfect life
When she opens her eyes they are pitch black

She is someone that is fake
She acts nothing like she should
She is very grungy and unclean

She knows of no safety
and of no time
Her life is smashed into pieces by the giant sun

She will always be a ghost
She knows of no god
She crawls around in the world of death
She remains forgotten


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The Guitarist's Passion

With every note there comes a motion 

With every motion another note 

Simultaneous facial expressions form 

From harmonious melodies the guitarist wrote 

He unselfishly shares his immensely sharp talent 

With patrons he lovingly calls friends 

Grateful friends that listen in true adoration 

Hoping and praying his performance does not end 

They cannot help but twist and shout or simply tap their feet 

To the tireless momentum of lightning fast fingers 

Evoking emotions that mesh with the beat 

Bringing feelings of thrills that forever linger 

The crowd cheers on as the guitarist performs 

Casting expressions through sounds being born 

From his guitar that exudes a true love of life 

Exalting to feverous peaks of delight 

The guitarist will be the first to tell you 

That his out of this world talent is not of his own 

In humble hesitation that exists in his voice, slightly trembling 

Spills out confessions for God’s Love, all powerful, never ending 

 

Author: David G. Pennington 


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World ain't a place to discover

Forgotten by my society, 
Me branded a monster, 
Forgotten by my destiny, 
Years back, a youngster.

Its not a dream, not even a tale, 
Firmly held onto the grassy ground, 
A day in my hand petrol in a purple bale, 
And I knew I would never be found.

Darkest period of the night, 
It was, with a group I thought right, 
Tip-toed into our teacher's home, 
We came to finalize, to set it ablaze.

Wails, yells, groans I heard, 
Trembling with fear I grew mad, 
Helter-skelter paced hard, ran hard, 
Nowhere to go, not even a yard.

Then came a furious crowd, 
Loud and rowdy, emotions sad, 
Unable to say, not even a word, 
Beaten, I was left for the dead.

Every now that seems lost, 
Never give up, no matter what cost, 
Every obstacle that seems high, 
Fold sleeves, give a second try, 
Everyday is a chance to do better, 
Take my advice, you youngster, 
For the world ain't a place to discove


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Cirque de Halloween

"In this town, everyone's waiting for the next sunrise."

Gather round children of every age, wouldn't you like to see something strange?
Come with me and you will see.
Let us set the stage, for this is Halloween.

Whispers hum in the wind. (I am the clown with the tear-away face)
HALLOWEEN! HALLOWEEN! the crowd chants.
Master scares and creeps.

This, our circus on Halloween.
Don't be late now, for after the show, everyone's waiting for the next sunrise.
This is Halloween.

"Life's no fun without a good scare" we sing.
 "I am the wind blowing through your hair; I am the hoo? when you call "who's 
there?!"

I am the one hiding under the bed, teeth grown sharp and eyes gone red." my friend 
sings as the rest of the group sings the pumpkin song. 

"La, la, la la la, la. Life's no fun without a good scare! La, la, la la la, la. THIS IS 
HALLOWEEN! THIS IS HALLOWEEN! HALLOWEEN HALLOWEEN.

As the song ends, it is replaced by the eerie tinkling of a music box; slow and scary.

But, hey. That's what we're here for; the scares.


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The Deafening Silence

There is an explosion in all of us, we try to keep hidden away
But when we decide to get even, everybody must pay
There are so many things wrong people tend to ignore
The people in and out of our lives, the screaming next door
The ones we pass by on the street
One of them becomes a victim, than on a gurney covered with a sheet
Another shot fired, it becomes acceptable violence
What becomes un easing is the deafening silence
Some people hunt for a living, others for the thrill
Humans being the worst animal, thou shall not kill
An old lady conned out of her pension
A nobody takes hostages to draw some attention
Kids bring guns to school to settle scores
Now we have metal detectors at the doors
Is there really such a thing as a safe environment
Don't be fooled by the deafening silence
I remember when Bicycles, Hotwheels and for the girls Barbies were the 
greatest thing
Now it is all about the latest cell and the bling bling
Rap Artists, Rock Stars and movie Moguls are what influence the youth of today
It seems there is always a dragon for mom or dad to slay
Kids go wild without our guidance
The answer is not the deafening silence


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Night of the Ghost Knight...

Tender Rose! watch tonight
I reach thee there, in a wondrous flight
Sighs, storms not any more
as wanton winds soften the roar.
Tearing apart the paths I 'll be
trotting triumph through the untamed sea
hold unto thy dreams for a while
as riding I come charging the vile.
Queen of hearts, my charming bride!
shining I near over the tide
Danger, Death my old delight
truest promise tonight, must see the light.
Dogs, savages of the dark
Come an' they shall be ripped apart
Guides me truly...heavenly a spark
never let Fear rule thy heart.
The moment I kiss this castle enchanted
my silver armor in crimson painted
four or forty heads...I need not know
though fiery monsters shall be lying low
Moonlit sword shall drink the sun
the fire of my breast shall make them burn
Fear not faerie queen then, my faerie dove!
witnesses every move...the angel of love.
Softly like rain...fall into my arms
O' Heavens! Thy countless ethereal charms!
I shall fly thee...through kind the flashes of the moonbeams
away from tempests...to mid summer's night's dreams.!
Unpin the braid...we'll sail in the wind
hoofs won't touch the hard roads blind
into the sea of love...where no chains can bind
as mortal fear, mundane terrains...we leave behind...


Note-As the sailors enter the Thorde sea...they can hear a faint voice singing. As they 
move further deep into the waters...the wind all of a sudden hums low an' the voice grows 
distinct. A clear ringing voice...pain or ecstasy, they cannot make out. It sings of a deathly 
night...of a Knight an' his beloved...the rescue an' an almost successful escape. That 
night..as the two approach the sea...the knight finds his ship...set ablaze by some 
treacherous spirit...gone unbeaten. At this moment of great fix...ten arrows strike the knight 
from the back...poison tipped. The beloved princess is speechless in ecstasy...an' she 
knows nothing of this immediate dreadful strike. As a knight ...never falls or fails...he looks 
above, at the gleaming heaven in earnest pray...an' with his beloved holding him close; he 
storms into the sea with the horse. The waves this moonlit night...remind you the tale once 
more....as in above...


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3,000 Miles Separate Fate

There you were
Just a blur
In the spur
Of the moment

A spontaneous rush
Of flushed confusion
An overwhelming lasting impression

This brief encounter
Bringing two strangers
A precious and a joyous sensibility
That's all too serene to be fiction

Effervescent euphoria
Permeates its way through the senses
Infiltrating effortlessly

Why did you have to go
And get on that plane

Now you're never coming home


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MI COMMA TO AMERICA ( I CAME TO AMERICA ))

Mi camma to America wid a passion for moni en fud,
hoppin to getta rich;
en de sai det gold is founda in striz!
Mi work en work ol dei
to meke sam dollar,
en mi eat pizza, en drink vino...
mi wanna be lika Al Pacino:
a famos attor ov Hollivud! 
En me veit too mani iers, to see butiful voman 
laika Marilin Monro...whata a fess!
Whata a bodi! A Diva so sexi!
En mi wanna be laika Valentino from Italia,
to sedus ol duh pritty ladi vid mi ciarma;
en ol kiss mi...O locki Casanova!  

English Translation:

I come to America with a passion for money and food,
hoping to get rich;
and they say that gold is found on streets!
I work and work all day
to make some dollar,
and I eat pizza and drink wine...
I would like to be like Al Pacino
a famous actor in Hollywood!
And I waited many years to see beautiful women
like Marilyn Monroe...what a face!
What a body! A Diva so sexy!
And I like to be like Valentino from Italy,
to seduce all the pretty ladies with my charm;
and they all kiss me...O lucky Casanova!!

Entered in Deborah's Gucci, " Dialects make the world go around "
(Brooklyn-Italian dialect)

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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Leaving Home

There is a wee tall tale, 
 that me father told us three.
He'd heard it from his father before him.
It was part of his family tree.
He told of how he'd left Ireland,
and sailed the ocean blue,
to land in another country,
that to him was all new.
He told of why he'd gone there,
of the nasty deed he'd done,
and how he'd had to sail away,
and keep right on the run.
He told of how his mother,
cried when he sailed.
She wiped her tears on her apron,
and gave way to a sad, sad wail.
She knew she'd nary again see him.
This child she loved so well,
for he was now a fugitive.
His soul he'd had to sell.
So as the tears were falling,
she bid him fond farewell.
She kissed his cheek so softly,
and told him, her love with him would dwell.
And as the ship left harbor,
with this young Irish lad,
a mother's heart was broken,
with the pain of one who's sad.
I miss me mother dearly now,
for all these may a year,
but I'm glad to have you sons,
to be with me right here.
And the moral of this story:
If you must ever roam,
Take your mother's address,
so you can keep in touch with home.


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Comeuppance

Saw you walking down the street one day
and I could see you're very happy.
But your time is about to end now
‘cause I've got you, babe,
got you under my feet.

You used to tell all your friends how you
always got me chained around you.
But this time ain't the right time
‘cause I've got you, babe,
got you with me to bed.

Ever wondered how 
you treated me mean and cruel?
But the past is past, babe, and now is my time.

How does it feel to be crying, babe,
with all those tears in your eyes?
You look so miserable,
you're acting like a fool,
I don't love you anymore.



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The Bow-Wow Song !

I was ‘ Walking ’ back from grocery shopping
When I saw something, that had me hopping…
… mad, I mean… at what I seen
… a Man treating a Dog, just like a Queen !

They rode past in a top-down car
She had shades on, like a Movie-Star
My bags dropped down, due to shock…
… Now… What She got, that I ain’t got?

… Her big ears blowing in the wind
Now, I know, that’s Man’s Best Friend
But the only reason, I figured, I was Walking
is ‘cause I need a new kind-of-Talking :

Bow-Wow!     Get my  tail to Wagging
Bow-Wow!     Ain’t too Proud for Begging
Bow-Wow!     Learn another kind of Language
Bow-Wow…    … see I can Manage …
Bow-Wow !
I’m slowly Learning How
-	    to Bow-Wow
                    and it’s Alright Now

Now, I knew, something was wrong with that Sight
Can my Bark, be worse than Her Bite?
I started to Listen to the Canine next Door
Yapping and a Howling – made ‘em give Her More…

Then I hung around the Local Pet-Shop
I Finally figured out “What They Got !”
The next Man came, I Said, “They’s Expensive,
You may as well, get yourself a ‘Mrs’…”

                    … Bow-Wow!
  
Bow-Wow!      Get my  tail to Wagging
Bow-Wow!      Ain’t too Proud for Begging
Bow-Wow!      Learn another kind of Language
Bow-Wow…   … see I can Manage
Bow-Wow !
I’m slowly Learning How
	     to Bow-Wow
                     and it’s Alright Now

Well… We were already happily Married, when He said, “Let’s get a Dog”
I sat up straight… went to sniffing, as silent-whistle-warnings, went off
I jumped in front of Him … and started to Tease…
“We don’t need nothing ‘round with Fleas !”

… and if You scratch behind My Ears,
I’ll make the kind of noise, you love  to Hear ! …

Bow-Wow!      Move Over Rover
Bow-Wow!      Fe-Fe, Its Over !
Bow-Wow!      This is My Growler
                     Git’ A Little Louder … Bow – Wow !

                 Bow-Wow… Wuff  Wuff  Wuff

         Carol Brown… This One’s For You Kiddo’
         And Your Great Sense of Humor (Smile)
              This Poem is From Bygone Days
(Wouldn’t You Know… The Silly One’s Always Survive)
                         Hope You Enjoy It….

                                  MoonBee


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Three Cheers

Sobriety is dying in me once again
The pain drains as I welcome home a long time friend
She is always their and is always fair she never lies 
Just slides down smooth and we fall back into our old grooves
My blood stews in a chemical imbalance and my mind finally finds relief from 
apathy
As me and my old friend kiss and lock lips she slips down into my soul
And once again plugs its holes
I never said a remedy didn’t come without tolls

So again the roses are red and violets blend to black
And once again I find myself speaking matter of factually
But the only sound she sends is my voice echoing back to me 
I’m downing her and she’s drowning me 
We can only be what we were designed to be
But she has always been a good friend to me 
And I’m always too willing to pay her fees 
Just so I can trade my memories for tranquility

Yet she is no difference than any other girl who has fallen for me
She is still slowly killing me
Her smooth curves are beckoning
But its her icy contents that bound us
And like the rest I always ask what will it hurt this once
But it happens again and again another lover 
With a pieces of momentary bliss and death that’s hoovering in each and every 
kiss
But with her I welcome the former and lace my fingers waiting for the latter 

Together we clatter through this empty house
And laugh for time is now the only thing that matters 
Let it cast our shadows and we can rejoice that ghosts have anatomy
Well that is until the sun passes a certain degree and even our shadows flee 
Because not even they can bare the nightmare that is slowly coming to be
And they dare not guess my fate and dare not stay and wait 

So I guess its just you and me baby 
We can weigh our heavy hearts 
And continue disposing of the memories it carts 
Just as long as I’m asleep by morning because I’ve been promising 
I wouldn’t let clean white light infatuate me anymore 
So lets escape and take that hidden door in my mind
Behind it is a mystery that I’d like to find
Who knows maybe its death waiting to be greeting me  


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The Bridge

 An obstruction can be overcome by building a bridge
Whether the obstacle is of land or of sea
But the bridge most essential to all of mankind
Is the one that leads to God, no other way to Him we'll find

With three nails and a cross, Jesus built us a bridge
To carry us across sin's deep abyss
There is no other way, for without Him we are lost
Jesus saves with a bridge made of three nails and a cross

God the Father was willing to send His only Son
God the Son obeyed and left His home on high
Born of a virgin by God's Spirit, clothed in humanity
Born to die, to rise again, He bridged the gap for you and me

We are such loathsome sinners, while God is so pure
It's impossible to match His perfect ways
No earthly bridge can reach over a chasm so wide
Only one such bridge exists, the one that Jesus provides

With three nails and a cross, Jesus built us a bridge
It's the only way to span sin's great divide
He offered up His life, there is no greater cost
Thank the Lord, He built a bridge with three nails and a cross

There has been many bridges built by the hands of men
Much skillfulness and toil they did employ
But none can be compared to, or was made with such love
As the bridge our Lord supplies for us, that leads to God above

Jesus offers free passage for you to cross that bridge
It's the only way, the Bible tells us so
No toll is required, it was paid for with His blood
Accept His gracious gift and He will guide you by His love

With three nails and a cross, Jesus built us a bridge
It's the only way to span sin's great divide
He offered up His life, there is no greater cost
I'm so thankful He built a bridge with three nails and a cross


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THE GIGOLO OF VIA VENETO

Everybody knows him as Alessandro,
the handsome gigolo of Via Veneto,
and his lucky charms he sells to many a gorgeous lady,
he approaches them and says,
" Mademoiselle, parle vous Francais?"
as he struggles with words, she replies,"Oui"
And he continues with a perfect accent, "Je t'ame!"
shocked by the womaniser, the slender French young woman
looks at him and starts to laugh with an entertaining wit;
but the gigolo insists, " Tu es tres belle!"
And the petite mademoiselle exclaims," Merci!"
How can his sexiness win him this French woman?
"Vouz habite a' Paris?" and smiling she nods
 " Oui...a' Paris, a' Belleville..un quartier de Paris!"
and the gigolo continues, " Un bel androit!"
" Beau garcon,, est-ce que La Fontana di Trevi...
est loin dici? And Alessandro excitedly replied,"
" Ce ne'st pas loin!"... and with a sign laguage,
he pointed to his red Ferrari, ready to steal her away! 


Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci

Translation:

Mademoiselle, parle vous Francais?"/ Young lady, do you speak French?

Tu es  tres belle/ You are beautiful

Vouz habite a' Paris?/ Do you live in Paris?

Qui...a' Paris, a' Belleville...un quartier de Paris!/
Here...in Paris, in Belleville...a quarter in Paris!/

Un bel androit!/ A beautiful place

Beau garcon, est-ce que La Fontana di Trevi...est loin dici?/
Pretty boy, where's the Trevi Fountain...is it far?

Ce ne'st pas loin/ not too far