Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
.
.
.
Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
.
.
.
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?


W.B. Yeats - The Second Coming

and this is my terrorism lipstick
my assault and battery eyeliner
my armed robbery boots

What She Was Wearing by Denver Butson
http://www.jonathancarroll.com/blog1/2009/02/carrollblog_224_3.html

"We may be in the Universe as dogs and cats are in our libraries, seeing the books and hearing the conversation, but having no inkling of the meaning of it all."
- William James, A Pluralistic Universe

I'm still alive but I'm barely breathing
Just prayed to a god that I don't believe in
Coz I got time while she got freedom
Coz when a heart breaks no it don't break even

Her best days will be some of my worst
She finally met a man that's gonna put her first
While I'm wide awake she's no trouble sleeping
Coz when a heart breaks no it don't break even, even no

The Script - BreakEven

"None of you understand. I'm not locked up in here with you. You're locked up in here with me."
- Watchmen

"I don't answer to my slave name."
- X-men 3

"Beneath this mask there is more than flesh. Beneath this mask there is an idea, Mr. Creedy, and ideas are bulletproof."
- V for Vendetta

"Dammit I'm Mad"
by
Demetri Martin

...
Name not one bottle minus an ode by me:
"Sir, I deliver. I'm a dog"
Evil is a deed as I live.
Dammit I'm mad.

Juotit minut känniin
heitit minut seinään
mentiin kesällä naimisiin

The Kirje

Kirjeessä jonka kirjoitit
kerroit asioita joita et koskaan sanonut
sinun on aika palata kotiin.

Kirjeessä jonka kirjoitin
kerroin asioita joita en koskaan sanonut
siksi en voi palata kotiin.

Kirje jonka kirjoitit
oliko se kirje ystävältä?
minun on saatava tietää


*


The Letter

In the letter that you wrote
I heard the words that you never spoke
It is time for you to come home

And in the letter that I wrote
were the words I never spoke
This is why I cant come home

And in the letter that you wrote
was it a letter as a friend?
This is what i must know

The Black Heart Procession - The Letter

In brightest day, in blackest night,
No evil shall escape my sight,
Let those who worship evil's might
Fear my power, green lantern's light.

roses are red
violets are blue
all of my base
are belong to you

Sticks and stones may break my bones,
but whips and chains excite me.
So throw me down on the ground,
and show me that you like me.

I've packed the brownies of the Men from Mars
I leak the Plague from my nether parts
opiates are the *mass* of my religion
I steer my *own* god damn evolution!

I kidnapped the future and ransomed it for the past
I gave Mother Nature a high-protein tonsil wash
Come *on* and give me cancer
I'll spit up the tumor and butter my *bread* with it

I'm a fission reactor, I fart plutonium!
Power plants are fueled by the spew of my brow
I do it for *fun*! I *cannot* be tracked on radar!
when they plug *me* in, the lights go out in the Asia!

(The Subgenius Brag Generator)

There's comfort and control, it's safe for you and me.
News for the surface shows how hard life there can be.
why live in danger ? why live with pain ?
People from the surface find it hard to explain.
-- Quasi: Our Happiness Is Guaranteed

"Two roads diverged in the woods. I took the one less traveled, and had to eat bugs until Park rangers rescued me." -- Jim Rosenberg

FIFO

Fit in or fuck off
I smolder with generic rage
How about a nice cup
of shut the fuck up.

So you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,
Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

http://immortalpoetry.com/You_Learn

Sabaton: Burn Your Crosses (edit)

Burn your crosses, make way for science
Christ has only caused death and violence

Mankind's great mistake was to create god
Creation of man, excuse to spill blood

Burn your crosses, make way for science
Burn your crosses, make way for yourself

Zen

Kuinka ihmeellistä, kuinka salaperäistä!
Kannan polttopuita, vedän vettä.

*

Kun istuu hiljaa tekemättä mitään,
tulee kevät
ja ruoho kasvaa itsestään.

*

Putoavat lehdet
jäävät päälletyksin.
Sateen sade lyö.

on the water
the reflection
of a wanderer

The road is blocked. The road is blocked.
The dead took it. And the dead will keep it.

I've Got a Pain in My Sawdust
I've got a pain in my sawdust
That's what's the matter with me
Something is wrong with my little inside
I'm just as sick as can be
Don't let me faint, someone get me a fan
Someone else run for the medicine man
Ev'ryone hurry as fast as you can
I've got a pain in my sawdust

November Symphony

O.V. de LUBICZ-MILOSZ (1877-1939)

It will be exactly like this life. The same room.
Yes, my child, the same. At dawn the bird of time in the foliage
Pale as a corpse. Then the servants will get up,
And you will hear the frozen noises, in the hollow basins

Of the fountains. O terrible, terrible youth! O empty heart!
It will be exactly like this life. There will be
The poor voices, the voices of winter in old slums,
The glass mender singing his own duet,

The broken grandmother under a dirty bonnet
Crying out the names of fish, the man with the blue apron
Who spits into a hand worn by the wheelbarrow
And yells nobody knows what, like the Angel of Judgment.

It will be exactly like this life. The same table.
The Bible, Goethe, the ink and the smell of time,
The paper, white woman who reads thoughts,
The pen, the portrait. My child, my child!

It will be exactly like this life! — The same garden,
Deep, deep, thick, dim. And towards noon
People will enjoy themselves at being reunited there
Who never met and who do not know

One from another. You will have to dress
As if for a party and go in the night
Of the lost, all alone, without love and without lamp.
It will be exactly like this life. The same parkway:

And (in the autumn afternoon), at the turn of the parkway,
There where the beautiful road goes down shyly, like the woman
Who goes to pick the flowers of convalescence — listen, my child,
We shall meet again, here as of old,

And you have forgotten, the color your dress was then,
But I, I have known only little moments of happiness.
You will be garbed in pale violet, beautiful sorrow!
And the flowers of your hat will be small and sad,

And I will not know their names, for in this life I have known
Only the name of one sad small flower, the forget-me-not,
The old sleeper in the ravines of the land of hide and seek,
The orphan flower. Yes, yes, deep heart, like this life.

And the dim path will be there, all damp
In the echo of waterfalls. And I will tell you
About the city upon the water, and about Rabbi Bacharach,
And about the nights of Florence. There will also be

The sinking wall and down there where the smells
Of the old, old rain and the leprous weeds drowse,
Cold and fat, the hollow flowers shake there
In the dumb stream.

My body is a cage
That keeps me from dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key
My body is a cage
That keeps me from dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key

I'm standing on the stage
Of fear and self-doubt
It's a hollow play
But they'll clap anyway

My body is a cage
That keeps me from dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key
You're standing next to me
My mind holds the key

I'm living in an age
That calls darkness light
Though my language is dead
Still the shapes fill my head

...

Arcade Fire, My Body Is A Cage