Hear my cries
Hear my calls
Lend me your ears
See my fall
See my error
Know my faults
Time haults
See my loss
Know im lacking
Backtracking
Where i met you
Pistol packing
Itchy finger
Trigga happy
Try and trap me
Bad rap
Wiretap me
Backstab me
Break the faith
Fall from grace
Tell me lies
Time flies
You said to trust you
You'd never hurt me
Now i'm disgusted
Just been adjusted
Certainly it fooled me
Ridiculed me
Left me hangin with my shit
Boomerangin right back at ya
Pistol range
Narrow-minded
Left me blinded
I consigned it
Shit backfired
Not many would bear the pressure
You comprehend me
You want to end me
You offend me
Its trauma
Feel the trauma
Fuck my enemies
Fuck my foes
Damn these hoes
Back up off me
Give me room to breathe
I'm not hearin it
Im not fearin it
Im up to my ears in thisBullshit
Reluctantly i've been moving on
I ignore you
Sorry if i bore you
I neglect you
Don't mean to disrespect you
Can't you see
I love you dearly
And i sincerly
But you annoy me
You can't creep me
I'm here to stay
Forever and ever
And a day that's never
I can't let you go
I can't forget it
Why you did it
And won't aquit it
I wanna fight you
I'll fuckin bite you
Can't stand nobody like you
You can't run
You can't hide
No surprise
Close your eyes
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Monday, May 29, 2006
We sit and watch umbrellas flyI'm trying to keep my newspaper dryI hear myself say,"my boat's leaving now"...so we shake hands and cryNow i must wave goodbyeWave goodbyeWave goodbyeWave goodbyeWave goodbyeWave goodbyeYou knowI don't want to cry againI don't want to cry againDon't want to say goodbyeI don't want to cry againI don't want to run awayDon't want to race this painI'll never see your face againOh but howHow can you sayThat i didn't try...You see things in the depths of my eyesThat may love's run dryNo...We leave to their goodbyesI've come to depend on the look in their eyesMy blood's sweet for painThe wind and the rain bring back words of a songAnd they say: wave goodbyeWave goodbyeWave goodbyeWave goodbyeWave goodbyeWave goodbyeBut you knowI don't want to fall againDon't want to look this painDon't want another friendDon't want to try againDon't want to see you hurtDon't let me see you hurtI don't want to cry againI'll never see your face againHow can you sayThat i didn't tryYou know i didYou see things in the depths of my eyesThat my love's run dry...so i read to myself:A chance of a lifetime to see new horizonsOn the front pageA black and white pictureOf manhattan skyline
aye dharti , mujhe sametle aapni god mein,
thak sa chuka huun mein,
tanha mein raha huun,
aapne aanchal se dhak de mujhe.
har gujarta din ,
mujhse yeh kehraha hai,
gulistaan nahi , kabristaa hain yeh,
amrit pila pila kar,
khud zeher ke,
kadve ghunt pi pi kar,
marr sa chuka huun mein.
kaante ye chunte chunte ,
gir pada huun mein,
mujhe aapni julfoon ki,
beintehan mohabaat ,
mein sula de.
thak sa chuka huun mein,
tanha mein raha huun,
aapne aanchal se dhak de mujhe.
har gujarta din ,
mujhse yeh kehraha hai,
gulistaan nahi , kabristaa hain yeh,
amrit pila pila kar,
khud zeher ke,
kadve ghunt pi pi kar,
marr sa chuka huun mein.
kaante ye chunte chunte ,
gir pada huun mein,
mujhe aapni julfoon ki,
beintehan mohabaat ,
mein sula de.
Friday, May 26, 2006
Diluting Mandal by S. S. Gill
The move to extend reservation to the poor among the forward castes not only goes against the basic concept of affirmative action, it also violates the spirit of the Constitution.
IT WAS in December 1980 that members of the Mandal Commission, and I as its Secretary, trooped into the office of Zail Singh, then Home Minister, and presented our report to him. As we came out of the secretariat, B. P. Mandal, our chairman, told me, " I know how much labour has gone into the writing of this report. But let me tell you that today we have performed its immersion (visarjan) ceremony". And truly, for the next 10 years, the report lay in the Home Ministry's dusty vaults.
Then all of a sudden, V. P. Singh, as Prime Minister, opened the lid in 1990, and the Mandal Commission report became the single-most heated topic of controversy and discussion. There was total confusion in the national political arena and Mr. Singh was accused of indulging in the worst form of opportunism. No major political party supported the move. In fact, the BJP saw it as a serious threat to its `upper' caste constituency, and L. K. Advani, now Deputy Prime Minister, marched towards Ayodhya in his chariot to uphold `dharma'.
Those were days of high tension and emotions. The polity was in turmoil. Old power equations were dissolving and new ones emerging. The logic of numbers suddenly brought OBC leaders into prominence and every political party turned a votary of Mandal. Never before had the Indian political scene undergone the sort of sea change it did during the decade following the implementation of the Mandal report.
On the face of it, the radical change in the political landscape of the country marks the setting right of ancient historical wrongs. Or does it? In fact, to some extent, the Mandal Commission report was `demandalised' during the very process of its implementation. Of the dozen or so recommendations, only one pertaining to reservation was picked up, as it had the highest visibility and attracted immediate attention. More far-reaching recommendations regarding structural changes in the land-tenurial system, and institutional reforms for the educational and economic uplift of the OBCs were not even noticed. The attention thus got focussed on the fruits rather than the roots and branches of the tree of affirmative action.
Whereas the objective of the Mandal Commission report was the creation of a more egalitarian society, this selective and populist approach introduced an element of inequality among the OBCs themselves. If equal attention had been paid to strengthening the roots and branches of the tree of social justice and the base of the deprived sections of the society strengthened by undertaking structural reforms, it would have resulted in fortifying them from within instead of perennially making them dependant on the crutch of reservation.
And who were the main beneficiaries of this provision? Only the better off among the OBCs — the so-called creamy layer — who already had access to good educational facilities and could outperform their lesser privileged peers at competitive examinations within the reserved quota. This deepened the divide among the OBCs, as those who were already at the top of their community cornered the plum jobs and those at the bottom were left further behind.
At a deeper level, mandalisation was supposed to empower the deprived by giving them access to political power. This has happened in a limited way, as evidenced by the the manner in which every political party is wooing the OBCs by promising them all sorts of concessions. But even this process of empowerment is seriously flawed. Most of the positions of power have been cornered only by a couple of backward castes, and the really deprived communities have been left high and dry. Moreover, instead of identifying themselves with their impoverished communities, the OBC leaders who have risen to the top have adopted the lifestyle and value system of the `upper' castes against whom they had agitated all along. One would have expected these leaders to introduce a new political culture of austerity and self-denial, and adopt a lifestyle which projects them as role-models for the deprived members of their own community. But just the reverse has happened. The dispossessed have the highest stake in democracy, as it is their only hope. But instead of strengthening the Panchayati Raj institutions at the grassroots, the OBC and Dalit leaders are propagating a feudal culture and exclusivist tendencies. Their entire crusade was against the divisive caste system, and they should have tried to build inter-community bridges to eliminate caste hierarchies. But they have created vested interests in narrow caste loyalties to serve personal ends.
It was also hoped that both the Dalits and the OBCs, being victims of the same caste system, would join hands and form a powerful alliance to secure political power and wield it to improve the lot of their historically disadvantaged castes. But the pursuit of narrower personal ends has produced just the opposite result. There exits a lot of antagonism and ill will between these two sections.
But the latest episode in the `demandalisation' drama is being enacted now with the farcical proposals to reserve seats for the economically weaker sections among the `upper' castes. Whereas the Rajasthan Chief Minister wants reservation for the poor among the forward castes, the BJP has upstaged him by not only proposing to constitute a national commission for this purpose, but also by promising to extend them to Muslims. This move not only goes against the basic concept of affirmative action, it also violates the spirit of the Constitution.
Reservation for the Scheduled Castes, the Scheduled Tribes and the OBCs has been made under Article 15 (4) of the Constitution which empowers the state to make any "special provision for the advancement of any socially and educationally backward classes of citizens or for the Scheduled Castes and the Scheduled Tribes". Now, social backwardness is a structural disability linked to one's caste, and does not vary from generation to generation. Even a rich Dalit suffers from social stigma. But economic backwardness within the same family may vary from time to time. There are any number of rags-to-riches and riches-to-rags stories. Unlike social and educational backwardness, there is no criterion to determine economic backwardness, which is, in any case, a relative term. More importantly, the Constitution does not provide for reservation of jobs for the economically backward. After all, billions of rupees under the Five Year Plans are spent every year for the eradication of poverty and the benefits accrue to all the poor people, including those among the `upper' castes. Of course, Article 16 (4) empowers the State to make job reservation for "any backward class citizens... not adequately represented in the services under the state". But is it anyone's case that the forward castes as a whole are not adequately represented in the services?
But such are the compulsions of blind pursuit of power sans principles that politicians pay scant attention to facts, law or the Constitution, or the social implications of their tactics, if it serves their immediate goal. Look at the latest Government ploy of adding new castes to the Central OBC lists of eight States. As the percentage of people living below poverty line has halved since the implementation of the Mandal report, it should have led to the progressive exclusion of the beneficiary castes from the OBC list. But, defying all logic, the Government has repeatedly enlarged this list, mostly on the eve of elections.
IT WAS in December 1980 that members of the Mandal Commission, and I as its Secretary, trooped into the office of Zail Singh, then Home Minister, and presented our report to him. As we came out of the secretariat, B. P. Mandal, our chairman, told me, " I know how much labour has gone into the writing of this report. But let me tell you that today we have performed its immersion (visarjan) ceremony". And truly, for the next 10 years, the report lay in the Home Ministry's dusty vaults.
Then all of a sudden, V. P. Singh, as Prime Minister, opened the lid in 1990, and the Mandal Commission report became the single-most heated topic of controversy and discussion. There was total confusion in the national political arena and Mr. Singh was accused of indulging in the worst form of opportunism. No major political party supported the move. In fact, the BJP saw it as a serious threat to its `upper' caste constituency, and L. K. Advani, now Deputy Prime Minister, marched towards Ayodhya in his chariot to uphold `dharma'.
Those were days of high tension and emotions. The polity was in turmoil. Old power equations were dissolving and new ones emerging. The logic of numbers suddenly brought OBC leaders into prominence and every political party turned a votary of Mandal. Never before had the Indian political scene undergone the sort of sea change it did during the decade following the implementation of the Mandal report.
On the face of it, the radical change in the political landscape of the country marks the setting right of ancient historical wrongs. Or does it? In fact, to some extent, the Mandal Commission report was `demandalised' during the very process of its implementation. Of the dozen or so recommendations, only one pertaining to reservation was picked up, as it had the highest visibility and attracted immediate attention. More far-reaching recommendations regarding structural changes in the land-tenurial system, and institutional reforms for the educational and economic uplift of the OBCs were not even noticed. The attention thus got focussed on the fruits rather than the roots and branches of the tree of affirmative action.
Whereas the objective of the Mandal Commission report was the creation of a more egalitarian society, this selective and populist approach introduced an element of inequality among the OBCs themselves. If equal attention had been paid to strengthening the roots and branches of the tree of social justice and the base of the deprived sections of the society strengthened by undertaking structural reforms, it would have resulted in fortifying them from within instead of perennially making them dependant on the crutch of reservation.
And who were the main beneficiaries of this provision? Only the better off among the OBCs — the so-called creamy layer — who already had access to good educational facilities and could outperform their lesser privileged peers at competitive examinations within the reserved quota. This deepened the divide among the OBCs, as those who were already at the top of their community cornered the plum jobs and those at the bottom were left further behind.
At a deeper level, mandalisation was supposed to empower the deprived by giving them access to political power. This has happened in a limited way, as evidenced by the the manner in which every political party is wooing the OBCs by promising them all sorts of concessions. But even this process of empowerment is seriously flawed. Most of the positions of power have been cornered only by a couple of backward castes, and the really deprived communities have been left high and dry. Moreover, instead of identifying themselves with their impoverished communities, the OBC leaders who have risen to the top have adopted the lifestyle and value system of the `upper' castes against whom they had agitated all along. One would have expected these leaders to introduce a new political culture of austerity and self-denial, and adopt a lifestyle which projects them as role-models for the deprived members of their own community. But just the reverse has happened. The dispossessed have the highest stake in democracy, as it is their only hope. But instead of strengthening the Panchayati Raj institutions at the grassroots, the OBC and Dalit leaders are propagating a feudal culture and exclusivist tendencies. Their entire crusade was against the divisive caste system, and they should have tried to build inter-community bridges to eliminate caste hierarchies. But they have created vested interests in narrow caste loyalties to serve personal ends.
It was also hoped that both the Dalits and the OBCs, being victims of the same caste system, would join hands and form a powerful alliance to secure political power and wield it to improve the lot of their historically disadvantaged castes. But the pursuit of narrower personal ends has produced just the opposite result. There exits a lot of antagonism and ill will between these two sections.
But the latest episode in the `demandalisation' drama is being enacted now with the farcical proposals to reserve seats for the economically weaker sections among the `upper' castes. Whereas the Rajasthan Chief Minister wants reservation for the poor among the forward castes, the BJP has upstaged him by not only proposing to constitute a national commission for this purpose, but also by promising to extend them to Muslims. This move not only goes against the basic concept of affirmative action, it also violates the spirit of the Constitution.
Reservation for the Scheduled Castes, the Scheduled Tribes and the OBCs has been made under Article 15 (4) of the Constitution which empowers the state to make any "special provision for the advancement of any socially and educationally backward classes of citizens or for the Scheduled Castes and the Scheduled Tribes". Now, social backwardness is a structural disability linked to one's caste, and does not vary from generation to generation. Even a rich Dalit suffers from social stigma. But economic backwardness within the same family may vary from time to time. There are any number of rags-to-riches and riches-to-rags stories. Unlike social and educational backwardness, there is no criterion to determine economic backwardness, which is, in any case, a relative term. More importantly, the Constitution does not provide for reservation of jobs for the economically backward. After all, billions of rupees under the Five Year Plans are spent every year for the eradication of poverty and the benefits accrue to all the poor people, including those among the `upper' castes. Of course, Article 16 (4) empowers the State to make job reservation for "any backward class citizens... not adequately represented in the services under the state". But is it anyone's case that the forward castes as a whole are not adequately represented in the services?
But such are the compulsions of blind pursuit of power sans principles that politicians pay scant attention to facts, law or the Constitution, or the social implications of their tactics, if it serves their immediate goal. Look at the latest Government ploy of adding new castes to the Central OBC lists of eight States. As the percentage of people living below poverty line has halved since the implementation of the Mandal report, it should have led to the progressive exclusion of the beneficiary castes from the OBC list. But, defying all logic, the Government has repeatedly enlarged this list, mostly on the eve of elections.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
how the pocket lights up the face.
how many times have we all said that this cell phone is gettin on my nerves,
too many calls,
too much expenditure,
too much of a nuisance ,
well i certainly have,
eversince i have owned one since the last 9 yrs,
but,
u know what,today i think , that communication has come such a long way,
so what if if it so much of a trouble to take and waste time dwellin over calls and the short service messagin,
so what if has repercussions on the health ,
the earache it causes after u speak on and on for hours,
can anythin replace ,
the feelin , the smile it brings to us, or the person we r talkin to,
when we really want to at any time of the day or night,
so what if we can only hear their voice, and not see them in person,
but we can feel the emotions,
call to check up on anythin,
write an sms,askin someone to please go to sleep,to have dinner even tho she doesent feel like,
ask someone to call so that we can wake up , wll want to when we hear a voice we wanted to hear all night, but had to sleep too,
if silly things like these can be so important,
how important will the important ones be,
even tho graham bell doesent know how thankful we r,
we still r man,
even tho its such a hassle,
we still cant live without,
a voice we long to hear even when the sense of vision does not get its fair share.
too many calls,
too much expenditure,
too much of a nuisance ,
well i certainly have,
eversince i have owned one since the last 9 yrs,
but,
u know what,today i think , that communication has come such a long way,
so what if if it so much of a trouble to take and waste time dwellin over calls and the short service messagin,
so what if has repercussions on the health ,
the earache it causes after u speak on and on for hours,
can anythin replace ,
the feelin , the smile it brings to us, or the person we r talkin to,
when we really want to at any time of the day or night,
so what if we can only hear their voice, and not see them in person,
but we can feel the emotions,
call to check up on anythin,
write an sms,askin someone to please go to sleep,to have dinner even tho she doesent feel like,
ask someone to call so that we can wake up , wll want to when we hear a voice we wanted to hear all night, but had to sleep too,
if silly things like these can be so important,
how important will the important ones be,
even tho graham bell doesent know how thankful we r,
we still r man,
even tho its such a hassle,
we still cant live without,
a voice we long to hear even when the sense of vision does not get its fair share.
Friday, April 07, 2006
the feel of love.
think i shall sleep now, anyways,
havent we all wondered, sometime or the the other ,what love is,what does love feel like,
just imagine every tear from her ,feels as if you're being burned alive,
every laugh, like the world is being born,
every smile like ,the sun is rising just for you.
whenever you're with her, there isn't time, there isn't meaning, there isn't doubt or fear-there's just her.
and when she looks at you.you see it. You see it sitting there, so
beautiful and delicate, and you're almost afraid to
touch it for fear that you might crush it-for what is
so fleeting as a love for which we are to live a
lifetime yet only find once
havent we all wondered, sometime or the the other ,what love is,what does love feel like,
just imagine every tear from her ,feels as if you're being burned alive,
every laugh, like the world is being born,
every smile like ,the sun is rising just for you.
whenever you're with her, there isn't time, there isn't meaning, there isn't doubt or fear-there's just her.
and when she looks at you.you see it. You see it sitting there, so
beautiful and delicate, and you're almost afraid to
touch it for fear that you might crush it-for what is
so fleeting as a love for which we are to live a
lifetime yet only find once
I inhale the sweet breeze that comes from thy mouth, I contemplate thy beauty every day. It's my desire to hear thy lovely voice like the north wind's whiff. Love will rejuvenate my limbs. Give me thy hands that hold thy soul, I shall embrace and live by it. Call me by name again, again, forever, and never will it sound without response.
On An Ancient Egyptian Tomb
On An Ancient Egyptian Tomb
am sure u know dogs like these.
"Let me tell you the most beautiful story I know, a man was given a dog, which he loved very much. The dog went with him everywhere, but the man could not teach it to do anything useful. The dog would not fetch or point, it would not race or protect or stand watch. Instead the dog sat near him and regarded him, always with the same inscrutable expression. 'That's not a dog, it's a wolf,' said the man's wife. 'He alone is faithful to me,' said the man, and his wife never discussed it with him again. One day the man took his dog with him into his private airplane and as they flew over high winter mountains, the engines failed and the airplane was torn to shreds among the trees. The man lay bleeding, his belly torn open by blades of sheared metal, steam rising from his organs in the cold air, but all he could think of was his faithful dog. Was he alive? Was he hurt? Imagine his relief when the dog came padding up and regarded him with that same steady gaze. After an hour the dog nosed the man's gaping abdomen, then began pulling out intestines and spleen and liver and gnawing them, all the while studying the man's face. 'Thank God,' said the man. 'At least one of us will not starve.'" -The God Whispers of Han Quing-jao, Orson Scott Hall
aapkeliye chhoti sarkar.
Look into my eyes and you will see what your love is doing to me. My eyes have learned to smile.
Familiarity, the first myth of reality: What you know the best, you observe the least. Devotion, the second myth of reality: The faithful are most hurt by the objects of their faith.
Conviction, the third myth of reality: Only those who seek the truth can be deceived.
Fellowship, the fourth myth of reality: As the tides of war shift, so do loyalties.
Trust, the fifth myth of reality: Every truth holds the seed of betrayal.
Conviction, the third myth of reality: Only those who seek the truth can be deceived.
Fellowship, the fourth myth of reality: As the tides of war shift, so do loyalties.
Trust, the fifth myth of reality: Every truth holds the seed of betrayal.
busted(dave matthews band)
Not enough, never too much
Baby look just like love
Rolling stone gathers no moss
But leave a trail of busted stuff
You know she's gonna leave my broken heart behind her
I'll take what she's giving up
You know she's gonna leave my broken heart behind her
I'll dig what she's giving up
Move in to kiss those sweet sugar lips
Baby look just like love
Without a care she floats above me
She got me down here looking up
You know she's gonna leave my broken heart behind her
I'll take what she's giving up
You know she's gonna leave this broken man behind
Yeah, yeah...
She the one for me
When she move, she move so cool
Got me feeling just like a fool
But inside, is where the devil rise
Woman look just like love
You know she's gonna leave my broken heart behind
I'll dig what she's giving up
You know she's gonna leave this broken man behind
Oh, yeah
She the one
She the one
She the one for me
Yeah...
You know she's gonna leave this broken man behind
Oh, yeah.....
Baby look just like love
Rolling stone gathers no moss
But leave a trail of busted stuff
You know she's gonna leave my broken heart behind her
I'll take what she's giving up
You know she's gonna leave my broken heart behind her
I'll dig what she's giving up
Move in to kiss those sweet sugar lips
Baby look just like love
Without a care she floats above me
She got me down here looking up
You know she's gonna leave my broken heart behind her
I'll take what she's giving up
You know she's gonna leave this broken man behind
Yeah, yeah...
She the one for me
When she move, she move so cool
Got me feeling just like a fool
But inside, is where the devil rise
Woman look just like love
You know she's gonna leave my broken heart behind
I'll dig what she's giving up
You know she's gonna leave this broken man behind
Oh, yeah
She the one
She the one
She the one for me
Yeah...
You know she's gonna leave this broken man behind
Oh, yeah.....
Monday, March 27, 2006
love dont live here anymore
Baby don't you want me to go
So honey, why don't you beg me to stay
For love, and talk the way we used to talk
Till we both know what we've lost
Never say the words we did before
When it was over
Love ain't here anymore
Love ain't here anymore
It's gone away, to a town called yesterday
Love ain't here anymore
Listen, oh listen, I don't wanna let go
So maybe we can change the way we feel
For love, and open up the way we did before
Now is the right time
And I'm sure you'd never say the words you did
Until you knew it was over
Love ain't here anymore
Love ain't here anymore
It's gone away, to a town called yesterday
Love ain't here anymore
And when I find a place for me to keep my sweet love
Then I will leave it there forever more, yeah
And when I find someone to share I'll never give up
I will hold you and believe that this life leads to more
Love ain't here anymore
Love ain't here anymore
It's gone away, to a town called yesterday
Love ain't here anymore
So honey, why don't you beg me to stay
For love, and talk the way we used to talk
Till we both know what we've lost
Never say the words we did before
When it was over
Love ain't here anymore
Love ain't here anymore
It's gone away, to a town called yesterday
Love ain't here anymore
Listen, oh listen, I don't wanna let go
So maybe we can change the way we feel
For love, and open up the way we did before
Now is the right time
And I'm sure you'd never say the words you did
Until you knew it was over
Love ain't here anymore
Love ain't here anymore
It's gone away, to a town called yesterday
Love ain't here anymore
And when I find a place for me to keep my sweet love
Then I will leave it there forever more, yeah
And when I find someone to share I'll never give up
I will hold you and believe that this life leads to more
Love ain't here anymore
Love ain't here anymore
It's gone away, to a town called yesterday
Love ain't here anymore
price of love
wish i could sing this to u myself my dear, Girl sometimes it seems to me
That i don't say the things i should
To you i act like i'm no good
And you wait for me patiently
This house
Is not a home without you
It takes two hearts to share
Your eyes will always see through me
And bring me to my knees
And i will always turn to you
You're everything i need
And through the good and bad times
You have always been there
We hold each other close
You tell me its alright
The nights we fight about it
Never dream of giving up
That's the price of love
Love sometimes it makes us cry
Forgive me when i get it wrong
Sometimes it's hard
To be that strong
And oh i would do anything
For you i'd turn the stars around
I'd find the way somehow
This time you'll see i'll build
A bridge to you again
Love shines to sweep away the past
We're more than lovers more than friends
And through the good and bad times
You have always been there
We hold each other tight you tell me it's alright
The nights we fight about it
Never think of giving up
That¹s the price of love
Your eyes will always see through me
And bring me to my knees
And i will always turn to you
You're everything i need
And through the good and bad times
You have always been there
We hold each other close you tell me its alright
And sometimes i can't give enough
That's the price of love
That's the price of love
That's the price of love
That i don't say the things i should
To you i act like i'm no good
And you wait for me patiently
This house
Is not a home without you
It takes two hearts to share
Your eyes will always see through me
And bring me to my knees
And i will always turn to you
You're everything i need
And through the good and bad times
You have always been there
We hold each other close
You tell me its alright
The nights we fight about it
Never dream of giving up
That's the price of love
Love sometimes it makes us cry
Forgive me when i get it wrong
Sometimes it's hard
To be that strong
And oh i would do anything
For you i'd turn the stars around
I'd find the way somehow
This time you'll see i'll build
A bridge to you again
Love shines to sweep away the past
We're more than lovers more than friends
And through the good and bad times
You have always been there
We hold each other tight you tell me it's alright
The nights we fight about it
Never think of giving up
That¹s the price of love
Your eyes will always see through me
And bring me to my knees
And i will always turn to you
You're everything i need
And through the good and bad times
You have always been there
We hold each other close you tell me its alright
And sometimes i can't give enough
That's the price of love
That's the price of love
That's the price of love
Sunday, March 26, 2006
ahHoly diver you've been down too long in the midnight sea oh what's becoming of meRide the tiger you can see his stripes but you know he's clean oh don't you see what I meanGotta get away holy diver yeahGot shiny diamonds like the eyes of a cat in the black and blue something is coming for you look outRace for the morning you can hide in the sun 'till you see the light oh we will pray it's all rightGotta get away get awayBetween the velvet lies there's a truth that's hard as steel yeahThe vision never dies life's a never ending wheel sayHoly diver you're the star of the masquerade no need to look so afraid jump jumpJump on the tiger you can feel his heart but you know he's mean some light can never be seen yeahHoly diver you've been down too long in the midnight sea oh what's becoming of me no noRide the tiger you can see his stripes but you know he's clean oh don't you see what I meanGotta get away get away gotta get away get awayHoly diver sole survivor your honour's cleanHoly diver holy diver never cut in the middle comin' after you holy diverOh holy diver yeah alright get away get away get away
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
SHE
She is every Poet's Melody.
She is every Hero's Love.
She is every Musician's Soul.
She is every Artist's Imagination.
She is every Singer's Voice.
She is every Parents' Desire.
She is every Father's Darling.
She is every Mother's Baby.
She is every Brother's Sweetoo.
She is every Sister's Admiration.
She is every Infants Cuteness.
She is every Man's Sweetheart.
She is every Woman's Rolemodel.
She is every Prince's Princess.
She is every King's Queen.
She is every Person's Friend.
She is every Heart's Beat.
She is every Eye's Search.
She is every Kingdom's Princess.
She is every Galaxy's Queen.
She is every Flower's Fragrence.
She is every Mind's Brilliance.
She is every Night's Dream.
She is every Star's Shine
She is every Hero's Love.
She is every Musician's Soul.
She is every Artist's Imagination.
She is every Singer's Voice.
She is every Parents' Desire.
She is every Father's Darling.
She is every Mother's Baby.
She is every Brother's Sweetoo.
She is every Sister's Admiration.
She is every Infants Cuteness.
She is every Man's Sweetheart.
She is every Woman's Rolemodel.
She is every Prince's Princess.
She is every King's Queen.
She is every Person's Friend.
She is every Heart's Beat.
She is every Eye's Search.
She is every Kingdom's Princess.
She is every Galaxy's Queen.
She is every Flower's Fragrence.
She is every Mind's Brilliance.
She is every Night's Dream.
She is every Star's Shine
you might die trying
I'll walk halfway around the world
To change the world
Just to sit down by your side
Starts with one step
And I would do most anything, girl
How ever small
To be the apple of your eye
First step is hardest of all
Well troubles, they may come and go
Once you get your gauge
But good times, they're the gold
You'll be walking tall
And if the road gets rocky, girl
You said you never did
Just steady as we go
Cause you might die trying
Any place you wanna go
Cause you might die trying
Know I'll be next to you
Cause you
If it's treasure, baby, you're looking for
I'll search the whole world through
If you close your eyes
I know troubles, they may come and go
Cause the house is on fire
But good times, they're the gold
And think you couldn't move
So if the road gets rocky, girl
Until the fire dies
Just steady as we go
The things you never did
When the storm comes down you shelter me
Cause you might die trying
When I don't say a word and you know exactly what i mean
Cause you might die trying
In the darkest times, oh, you shine on me
You'd be as good as dead
You set me free and keep me steady as we go
Cause you might die trying
So if your heart wrings dry, my love
Cause you might die trying
I will fill your cup
And if your load gets heavy, girl
If you give
I will lift you up
you begin to live
Well troubles, they may come and go
if you give
But good times be the gold
begin to live
So if the road gets rocky, girl
you begin
Just steady as we go
you get the world
If you give you begin to live
Shine, shine, shine
you get the world
shine on me
If you give you begin to live
You might die trying
the things you never did
you'd be as good as dead
To change the world
Just to sit down by your side
Starts with one step
And I would do most anything, girl
How ever small
To be the apple of your eye
First step is hardest of all
Well troubles, they may come and go
Once you get your gauge
But good times, they're the gold
You'll be walking tall
And if the road gets rocky, girl
You said you never did
Just steady as we go
Cause you might die trying
Any place you wanna go
Cause you might die trying
Know I'll be next to you
Cause you
If it's treasure, baby, you're looking for
I'll search the whole world through
If you close your eyes
I know troubles, they may come and go
Cause the house is on fire
But good times, they're the gold
And think you couldn't move
So if the road gets rocky, girl
Until the fire dies
Just steady as we go
The things you never did
When the storm comes down you shelter me
Cause you might die trying
When I don't say a word and you know exactly what i mean
Cause you might die trying
In the darkest times, oh, you shine on me
You'd be as good as dead
You set me free and keep me steady as we go
Cause you might die trying
So if your heart wrings dry, my love
Cause you might die trying
I will fill your cup
And if your load gets heavy, girl
If you give
I will lift you up
you begin to live
Well troubles, they may come and go
if you give
But good times be the gold
begin to live
So if the road gets rocky, girl
you begin
Just steady as we go
you get the world
If you give you begin to live
Shine, shine, shine
you get the world
shine on me
If you give you begin to live
You might die trying
the things you never did
you'd be as good as dead
Thursday, March 09, 2006
ALIVE.
Don't stand beside my grave and weep,For I'm not there, I do not sleep,I am a thousand winds that blow,I am the diamond's glint on snow,I am the sunlight on ripened grain,I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in morning's hush,I am the swift uplifting rush,of quiet birds in circle flight,I am soft stars that shine at night,Don't stand beside my grave and cry,I am not there. I did not die.
Melinda Sue Pacho
When you awaken in morning's hush,I am the swift uplifting rush,of quiet birds in circle flight,I am soft stars that shine at night,Don't stand beside my grave and cry,I am not there. I did not die.
Melinda Sue Pacho
Rendevous with the rain.
(the silliest thing i have ever written) Even though the winters will freeze me to death for written this,this is somethin I simply have to do.every season season has its own charm and may I also say downplays .today was the first rain pune city saw this year.well, I did miss the start of it, like most of the things in my life, as my friends would say.cant blame me for this though, was in bed , yes, in bed, sleepin this time, for was down with temperature.
after I woke up, was on the phone for some time and then after a very long time had a wonderful home cooked dinner. My beautiful evening had started.much against what I was advised, I could not resist being outside in the rain.made a few excuses to myself for stoppin myself from goin outside like 'oh, my car is damaged........Wish I could go for a drive........If I didn't have fever ......U know the likes of the cribbin bit. But then . This is the crazy ol bloke from neverland.
started my pretty bike, and there i was feeling the drops from the heavens.was on the road soon.the wet pretty newly done roads.pune never looked prettier than the way she looks at night.the roads after a cold refreshing shower.she even smells so beautiful.
and ah, the play of the street lights on the her pretty body.its a love story which the city and i share ever since I was a young boy.
this time it was different. I was riding cautiously.for my love has been rampaged by many .
we as kids even , enjoyed even the ruins.havent we all.when the iffs and butts haven't yet crept in, haven't we all, a million times jumped into puddles of muddy water.well, the sense has improved but the insanity still lives on.stong.
was a few months back when I was dancing in joy in the untimely rains outside my hospital after a late night emergency procedure,singin aloud while driving home.and dancing even outside my house.
did ride my bike in the rain after quite while.there was a time , when the only time I would teach my eager friends and colleagues the thrills of a motorcycle only in the rains.step by step.they would do the handling, and I would manage the gears and the barely there brakes from the backsesat.
dangerous.oh yes. That was me. And ask anyone who has known me close enough.and there will be unparalleled stories to write about.
but soon my rendevous today was to come to an end , coz had promised I wont go out.so was back early.did not ride like a maniac.was a 'goodfella' ,did not do any sort of stunts.just cruized down feeling,smiling,and thinking.
LOVE MY LIFE.
after I woke up, was on the phone for some time and then after a very long time had a wonderful home cooked dinner. My beautiful evening had started.much against what I was advised, I could not resist being outside in the rain.made a few excuses to myself for stoppin myself from goin outside like 'oh, my car is damaged........Wish I could go for a drive........If I didn't have fever ......U know the likes of the cribbin bit. But then . This is the crazy ol bloke from neverland.
started my pretty bike, and there i was feeling the drops from the heavens.was on the road soon.the wet pretty newly done roads.pune never looked prettier than the way she looks at night.the roads after a cold refreshing shower.she even smells so beautiful.
and ah, the play of the street lights on the her pretty body.its a love story which the city and i share ever since I was a young boy.
this time it was different. I was riding cautiously.for my love has been rampaged by many .
we as kids even , enjoyed even the ruins.havent we all.when the iffs and butts haven't yet crept in, haven't we all, a million times jumped into puddles of muddy water.well, the sense has improved but the insanity still lives on.stong.
was a few months back when I was dancing in joy in the untimely rains outside my hospital after a late night emergency procedure,singin aloud while driving home.and dancing even outside my house.
did ride my bike in the rain after quite while.there was a time , when the only time I would teach my eager friends and colleagues the thrills of a motorcycle only in the rains.step by step.they would do the handling, and I would manage the gears and the barely there brakes from the backsesat.
dangerous.oh yes. That was me. And ask anyone who has known me close enough.and there will be unparalleled stories to write about.
but soon my rendevous today was to come to an end , coz had promised I wont go out.so was back early.did not ride like a maniac.was a 'goodfella' ,did not do any sort of stunts.just cruized down feeling,smiling,and thinking.
LOVE MY LIFE.
Pale blue dot
On the view of earth from 3.7 billion miles away:"Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home, That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every 'superstar,' every 'supreme leader,' every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there-on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam. [...] There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known." Carl Sagan, "Pale Blue Dot"
Death,thou shalt die.
Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and souls' delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
John Donne (1572-1631)
Holy Sonnets, no. 10
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and souls' delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
John Donne (1572-1631)
Holy Sonnets, no. 10
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
talk the talk,WALK THE WALK.
Walkin tall,
on the broken pieces of glass,
and slippin on the icy road,
to get up again and keep walkin,
above all the misery,
the world full of despise,
with my tender heart,
and no cage to protect it,
from the bruises ,
that are my home,
with all the love that i have,
and my heart and the cry,
my guns in the sky,
i keep walkin to what,
my life has in store for me,
someday,
the love i give,
will burn a hole,
in destiny itself.
on the broken pieces of glass,
and slippin on the icy road,
to get up again and keep walkin,
above all the misery,
the world full of despise,
with my tender heart,
and no cage to protect it,
from the bruises ,
that are my home,
with all the love that i have,
and my heart and the cry,
my guns in the sky,
i keep walkin to what,
my life has in store for me,
someday,
the love i give,
will burn a hole,
in destiny itself.
dreAM.
Every corner of my memory,
there is no place,
where you wouldnt be.
if anything, i wish i had,
another dream,
just with you.
nothing could take ,
my love for you,
from me away.
lights reflecting ,
in the smoky lounge,
could feel you say,
hear you say,
when we walked outside,
come and set me free.
how i wished,
to put in your palms,
the vibgyor and the stars.
see you smile,
even if from a distance,
for would walk away,
if i could just take ,
your tears away.
and now,
after so long,
there is no me,
if this dream i no longer can see.
there is no place,
where you wouldnt be.
if anything, i wish i had,
another dream,
just with you.
nothing could take ,
my love for you,
from me away.
lights reflecting ,
in the smoky lounge,
could feel you say,
hear you say,
when we walked outside,
come and set me free.
how i wished,
to put in your palms,
the vibgyor and the stars.
see you smile,
even if from a distance,
for would walk away,
if i could just take ,
your tears away.
and now,
after so long,
there is no me,
if this dream i no longer can see.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
diggin a ditch(dave matthews band)
Unto your dreaming
When you're alone
Unplug the TV
Turn off your phone
Get heavy on with digging your ditch
Cause I'm digging a ditch where madness gives
Digging a ditch where silence lives
Digging a ditch for when I'm old
Digging a ditch where stories told
Where all these troubles
That weigh down on me will rise
Unto your dreaming
When you're alone
Where all these worries
Weigh heavy on my heart
Will rise, will rise, will rise...
Unto your dreaming
When you're alone
Unplug the TV
Turn off your phone
Get heavy on with digging your ditch
Cause I'm diggin a ditch where madness gives
Digging a ditch where silence lives
Digging a ditch and when I'm through
Digging this ditch I'll dig in for you
Where all these disappointments
That grow angry out of me will rise
Unto your dremaing
When you're alone
Not what you're sure be or what you've become
Just getting heavy on with digging your ditch
Cause I'm digging a ditch where madness gives
I'm digging a ditch where silence lives
Digging a ditch and when I'm through
Digging a ditch I'll give one you
Where all these disappointments
That grow angry out of me will rise
Unto your dreaming
When you're alone
Where all these habits
That weigh down on me will die
Will die, will die, will die...
Unto your dreaming
When you're alone
Unplug the TV
Turn off your phone
Get heavy on with digging your ditch
a dream again.
would dig my way to the moon,
and then my way back home,
just to look at her and feel her,
had a dream of her again.
she smiles like no other,
she looks like love,
she breathes so smooth,
and walks so cool,
am in love.
and then my way back home,
just to look at her and feel her,
had a dream of her again.
she smiles like no other,
she looks like love,
she breathes so smooth,
and walks so cool,
am in love.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
ARE THESE SWEET DREAMS.
What are dreams.
for so many years now I have been dreamin of only petrifyin things ,so much so that when I was a kid,I would pray every night before sleepin to the almighty to keep me away from dreams , if the bad ones wont stay away from me.my prayers were answered.but soon the prayers were required again.but this time I had more important things to ask GOD for.and soon I made my peace with these so called nightmares.wasnt afraid now,not of anything on the face of the earth, nor up in the heavens and not six feet under.
dreamt a beautiful dream last night.
of a girl I fell in love with on first sight.
the brightness of her cheek,
would shame those stars,
as daylight does a lamp.
her eyes in heaven ,
would through the airy region stream so bright,that
birds would sing and think it were not night.
and when she leans her cheek
upon her hand.
o that I were a glove upon that hand
that I might touch that cheek.
we were crime scene investigators of some sort.but seemed more intrigueing than that.something like scully and moulder .Together we rolled and together we solved the mysteries that intrigued us all.we were inseparable.dined rogether,got drunk together,wept together. She never expressed her vast love for moi ,and I kept waiting for the words from her , which my ears wanted to get drunk on by her tongues sweet utterings.
and then the phone began to ring so sweet....
for so many years now I have been dreamin of only petrifyin things ,so much so that when I was a kid,I would pray every night before sleepin to the almighty to keep me away from dreams , if the bad ones wont stay away from me.my prayers were answered.but soon the prayers were required again.but this time I had more important things to ask GOD for.and soon I made my peace with these so called nightmares.wasnt afraid now,not of anything on the face of the earth, nor up in the heavens and not six feet under.
dreamt a beautiful dream last night.
of a girl I fell in love with on first sight.
the brightness of her cheek,
would shame those stars,
as daylight does a lamp.
her eyes in heaven ,
would through the airy region stream so bright,that
birds would sing and think it were not night.
and when she leans her cheek
upon her hand.
o that I were a glove upon that hand
that I might touch that cheek.
we were crime scene investigators of some sort.but seemed more intrigueing than that.something like scully and moulder .Together we rolled and together we solved the mysteries that intrigued us all.we were inseparable.dined rogether,got drunk together,wept together. She never expressed her vast love for moi ,and I kept waiting for the words from her , which my ears wanted to get drunk on by her tongues sweet utterings.
and then the phone began to ring so sweet....
Friday, March 03, 2006
SMILE AS I DIE
LET ME SEE YOU SMILE ,AS I DIE .TAKE ME, AS MY BODY BURNS, LET ME SEE YOU YEARN ,WHILE I CRY. YOU TAKE ONE STEP OF YOUR OWN AND YOU STEP ALL OVER ME. SILENCE NOW THE SOUND ,MY BREATH THE ONLY MOTION AROUND. LOST SIGHT OF MY SOUL AND IT'S VOID, THINK I'M UNFORGIVEN TO THIS WORLD .I WISHI WAS DEAD, NO TIME FOR MOURNING. IN HIDING HATE THAT BURN'S INSIDE, WHICH ONLY FUELS YOUR SELFISH PRIDE .THERES NO ONE LEFT TO BLAME ,ALL FACES LOOK THE SAME .IM FORCING MYSELF TO SMILE, A STATE OF SELF-DENIAL.IS IT WORTHWHILE? LIE'S ARE WHAT YOU TELL ME, ADORE ME AS I DRIFT AWAY.....
MY BABY LOVE.
Rock-and-Roll , first so used (1951) by Alan Freed,a Cleveland disc jockey, taken from the song "My Baby Rocks Me with a Steady Roll". The use of rock, roll, rock and roll, etc., with reference to sexual intercourse, is traditional in blues, a form of popular music that evolved in the 1950's from rhythm and blues, characterized by the use of electric guitars, a strong rhythm with an accent on the offbeat, and youth-oriented lyrics.So to say, "Rock 'N Roll" is a type of music. It "shook things up" in the 1950s and 1960s.
Rock is often used as a generic term, but its sound is rarely predictable. From the outset, when the early rockers merged country and blues, rock has been defined by its energy, rebellion and catchy hooks, but as the genre aged, it began to shed those very characteristics, placing equal emphasis on craftmanship and pushing the boundaries of the music. As a result, everything from Chuck Berry's pounding, three-chord rockers and the sweet harmonies of the Beatles to the soulful pleas of Otis Redding and the jarring, atonal white noise of Sonic Youth has been categorized as "rock." That's accurate -- rock & roll had a specific sound and image for only a handful of years. For most of its life, rock has been fragmented, spinning off new styles and variations every few years, from Brill Building Pop and heavy metal to dance-pop and grunge. And that's only natural for a genre that began its life as a fusion of styles.
First, the music became popular in small clubs and on the radio. Later, with the introduction of programs such as American Bandstand, teenagers could watch their favorite bands on television. Not everyone was excited about this music. Many parents didn't like the suggestive dancing, naughty lyrics, and loud, fast beat.
Ask me and rock is not simply music but also knowledge. To be a rock fan is not just to like something but also to know something, to share a secret with one's fellow fans, to take for granted the ignorance of nonfans. This common sense of rock fandom has had a constricting effect on the development of rock theory: the huge number of words devoted to rock in the consumer press matched by the few words devoted to it in the intellectual press. In the relentless speculation on mass culture that, defines postmodernism, rock remains the least treated cultural form. The common sense of rock, to put this another way, is that its meaning is known thoughtlessly: to understand rock is to feel it. Among left-leaning intellectuals the attitude is a generalized disdain for rock's commercialism and vulgarity coupled with a commitment to an individual artist or so genre. Hype-the driving force of the rock sales process taken to be transparent in its motivation and effects; taste reason why particular people like particular sounds, is I to be mysterious, inaccessible to reason. In a world in which everyone is an expert-everyone knows what makes music significant, other people's music vacuous-self claimed expertise is despised. Rock critics despise rock demics, rock musicians despise rock critics, rock fans despise each other.
Rock is often used as a generic term, but its sound is rarely predictable. From the outset, when the early rockers merged country and blues, rock has been defined by its energy, rebellion and catchy hooks, but as the genre aged, it began to shed those very characteristics, placing equal emphasis on craftmanship and pushing the boundaries of the music. As a result, everything from Chuck Berry's pounding, three-chord rockers and the sweet harmonies of the Beatles to the soulful pleas of Otis Redding and the jarring, atonal white noise of Sonic Youth has been categorized as "rock." That's accurate -- rock & roll had a specific sound and image for only a handful of years. For most of its life, rock has been fragmented, spinning off new styles and variations every few years, from Brill Building Pop and heavy metal to dance-pop and grunge. And that's only natural for a genre that began its life as a fusion of styles.
First, the music became popular in small clubs and on the radio. Later, with the introduction of programs such as American Bandstand, teenagers could watch their favorite bands on television. Not everyone was excited about this music. Many parents didn't like the suggestive dancing, naughty lyrics, and loud, fast beat.
Ask me and rock is not simply music but also knowledge. To be a rock fan is not just to like something but also to know something, to share a secret with one's fellow fans, to take for granted the ignorance of nonfans. This common sense of rock fandom has had a constricting effect on the development of rock theory: the huge number of words devoted to rock in the consumer press matched by the few words devoted to it in the intellectual press. In the relentless speculation on mass culture that, defines postmodernism, rock remains the least treated cultural form. The common sense of rock, to put this another way, is that its meaning is known thoughtlessly: to understand rock is to feel it. Among left-leaning intellectuals the attitude is a generalized disdain for rock's commercialism and vulgarity coupled with a commitment to an individual artist or so genre. Hype-the driving force of the rock sales process taken to be transparent in its motivation and effects; taste reason why particular people like particular sounds, is I to be mysterious, inaccessible to reason. In a world in which everyone is an expert-everyone knows what makes music significant, other people's music vacuous-self claimed expertise is despised. Rock critics despise rock demics, rock musicians despise rock critics, rock fans despise each other.
MUSIC-food for our souls.
Music tells stories. It triggers memories of T-birds, good vibrations, lost loves and endless summers... inspires people to do what's right... stand up for themselves... fuels protests and moves people to overcome prejudice, even in the face of death.
The music we listen totoday is as much shaped by influences from the past as from our expectations for today. The thrill is definitely not gone Life did not begin with Elvis; it only reached new heights.
Cheers to music, the food that feels our souls.
The music we listen totoday is as much shaped by influences from the past as from our expectations for today. The thrill is definitely not gone Life did not begin with Elvis; it only reached new heights.
Cheers to music, the food that feels our souls.
Starry leaves O'mine.
One by one, like leaves from a tree, All my faiths have forsaken me; But the stars above my head Burn in white and delicate red, And beneath my feet the earth Brings the sturdy grass to birth. I who was content to be But a silken-singing tree, But a rustle of delight In the wistful heart of night-- I have lost the leaves that knew Touch of rain and weight of dew. Blinded by a leafy crown I looked neither up nor down-- But the little leaves that die Have left me room to see the sky; Now for the first time I know Stars above and earth below.
The pool of love.
I love too much; I am a river Surging with spring that seeks the sea, I am too generous a giver, Love will not stoop to drink of me.
her feet will turn to desert places Shadowless, reft of rain and dew, Where stars stare down with sharpened faces From heavens pitilessly blue.
And there at midnight sick with faring, she will stoop down in her desire To slake the thirst grown past all bearing In stagnant water keen as fire.
her feet will turn to desert places Shadowless, reft of rain and dew, Where stars stare down with sharpened faces From heavens pitilessly blue.
And there at midnight sick with faring, she will stoop down in her desire To slake the thirst grown past all bearing In stagnant water keen as fire.
MY OWN HEAVEN
Sit for a minute and hold my hand.
Let's dig our feet into the sand.
Listen to the waves crash on the shore.
Let's want a little and then yearn for more.
Let's feel the sun upon our faces.
Let's travel to new exotic places.
Let's appreciate the things we've got,
Even if it's not a lot.
Let's feel the wind flow through our hair.
Let's feel heaven as if we were there.
Because my love you are next to me
And there's no other place I would rather be.
Let's dig our feet into the sand.
Listen to the waves crash on the shore.
Let's want a little and then yearn for more.
Let's feel the sun upon our faces.
Let's travel to new exotic places.
Let's appreciate the things we've got,
Even if it's not a lot.
Let's feel the wind flow through our hair.
Let's feel heaven as if we were there.
Because my love you are next to me
And there's no other place I would rather be.
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