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		much or all of it is non profit; financed by the nobel foundation and some grants from some states. profits are not made on monies used for the foundation. grants are given out in the form of prizes for works done. many donate their winnings to their chosen cause. personally i think the world would be a lesser place without it.
	 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		 (10-16-2016, 12:39 PM)billy Wrote:  much or all of it is non profit; financed by the nobel foundation and some grants from some states. profits are not made on monies used for the foundation. grants are given out in the form of prizes for works done. many donate their winnings to their chosen cause. personally i think the world would be a lesser place without it. 
OK, I agree with you. Shouldn't have called it stupid.
	 
		
	 
	
	
	
		
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		 (10-15-2016, 06:42 AM)shemthepenman Wrote:  both of those examples are better than anything you've ever written. that's one. but let's say you've taken 2 of the less good exammples of a writer who has written thousands of lyrics and poems. here's one:
 Ain't it just like the night to play tricks when you're tryin' to be so quiet ?
 We sit here stranded, though we're all doing our best to deny it
 And Louise holds a handful of rain, tempting you to defy it
 Lights flicker from the opposite loft
 In this room the heat pipes just cough
 The country music station plays soft
 But there's nothing really nothing to turn off
 Just Louise and her lover so entwined
 And these visions of Johanna that conquer my mind.
 In the empty lot where the ladies play blindman's bluff with the key chain
 And the all-night girls they whisper of escapades out on the D-train
 We can hear the night watchman click his flashlight
 Ask himself if it's him or them that's really insane
 Louise she's all right she's just near
 She's delicate and seems like the mirror
 But she just makes it all too concise and too clear
 That Johanna's not here
 The ghost of electricity howls in the bones of her face
 Where these visions of Johanna have now taken my place.
 Now, little boy lost, he takes himself so seriously
 He brags of his misery, he likes to live dangerously
 And when bringing her name up
 He speaks of a farewell kiss to me
 He's sure got a lotta gall to be so useless and all
 Muttering small talk at the wall while I'm in the hall
 Oh, how can I explain ?
 It's so hard to get on
 And these visions of Johanna they kept me up past the dawn.
 Inside the museums, Infinity goes up on trial
 Voices echo this is what salvation must be like after a while
 But Mona Lisa musta had the highway blues
 You can tell by the way she smiles
 See the primitive wallflower frieze
 When the jelly-faced women all sneeze
 Hear the one with the mustache say, "Jeeze
 I can't find my knees."
 Oh, jewels and binoculars hang from the head of the mule
 But these visions of Johanna, they make it all seem so cruel.
 The peddler now speaks to the countess who's pretending to care for him
 Saying, "Name me someone that's not a parasite and I'll go out and say a prayer for him."
 But like Louise always says
 "Ya can't look at much, can ya man."
 As she, herself prepares for him
 And Madonna, she still has not showed
 We see this empty cage now corrode
 Where her cape of the stage once had flowed
 The fiddler, he now steps to the road
 He writes everything's been returned which was owed
 On the back of the fish truck that loads
 While my conscience explodes
 The harmonicas play the skeleton keys and the rain
 And these visions of Johanna are now all that remain.
 
 or
 
 'Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood
 When blackness was a virtue the road was full of mud
 I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form
 Come in, she said
 I'll give ya shelter from the storm
 And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured
 I'll always do my best for her, on that I give my word
 In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm
 Come in, she said
 I'll give ya shelter from the storm
 Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved
 Everything up to that point had been left unresolved
 Try imagining a place where it's always safe and warm
 Come in, she said
 I'll give ya shelter from the storm
 I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail
 Poisoned in the bushes an' blown out on the trail
 Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn
 Come in, she said
 I'll give ya shelter from the storm
 Suddenly I turned around and she was standin' there
 With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair
 She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns
 Come in, she said
 I'll give ya shelter from the storm
 Now there's a wall between us, somethin' there's been lost
 I took too much for granted, I got my signals crossed
 Just to think that it all began on an uneventful morn
 Come in, she said
 I'll give ya shelter from the storm
 Well, the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount
 But nothing really matters much, it's doom alone that counts
 And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn
 Come in, she said
 I'll give ya shelter from the storm
 I've heard newborn babies wailin' like a mournin' dove
 And old men with broken teeth stranded without love
 Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn
 Come in, she said
 I'll give ya shelter from the storm
 In a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes
 I bargained for salvation and she gave me a lethal dose
 I offered up my innocence I got repaid with scorn
 Come in, she said
 I'll give ya shelter from the storm
 Well, I'm livin' in a foreign country but I'm bound to cross the line
 Beauty walks a razor's edge, someday I'll make it mine
 If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born
 Come in, she said
 I'll give ya shelter from the storm
 
 there are two,
 
 I was riding on the mayflower when I thought I spied some land
 I was riding on the mayflower when I thought I spied some land
 I yelled down to captain arab, I'll have ya understand,
 Who came running to the deck and said boys forget the whale
 We're goin' over yonder. cut the engines. change the sails.
 Haul on that bowline we sang that melody,
 Like all tough sailors do when they're far away at sea.
 I think I'll call it america. I said as we hit land.
 I took a deep breath. I fell down, I could not stand.
 Captain arab he starting writing out some deeds
 He said let's build us a fort and start buying the place with beads.
 Just then a cop come down the street crazy as a loon
 They throws us all in jail for carryin' harpoons.
 Aw, me, I busted out don't even ask me how,
 I went lookin' for some help, I walked past a guernsey cow
 Who directed me down to the bowery slums
 Where people carried signs around sayin' ban the bums.
 I jumped right in line, sayin' I hope that I'm not late
 When I realized I hadn't eaten for five days straight.
 I went into a restaurant lookin' for the cook
 I told him I was the editor of a famous etiquette book.
 The waitress he was handsome and he wore a powder blue cape.
 I ordered up some suzette, I said could you please make that crepe
 Just then the whole kitchen exploded from boiling fat
 Food was flyin' everywhere I left without my hat.
 I didn't mean to be nosy but I went into a bank
 To get some bail for arab the boys back in the tank.
 They asked me for some collateral and I pulled down my pants.
 They threw me in the alley, when up comes this girl from france
 Who invited me to her house. I went, but she had a friend
 Who knocked me out an' robbed my boots an' was I on the street again.
 I rapped upon a house with a u.s. flag upon display.
 I said can you please help me out, I got some friends down the way.
 The man said get out of here I'll tear you limb from limb.
 I said you know, they refused jesus, too. he said you're not him.
 Get out of here before I break your bones. I ain't your pop.
 I decided to have him arrested and went looking for a cop.
 I ran right outside and hopped inside a cab
 I went out the other door this english man said fab
 As he saw me leap a hot dog stand and a chariot that stood
 Parked across from a building advertising brotherhood.
 I ran right through the front door like a hobo sailor does,
 But it was just a funeral parlor and the man asked me who I was
 I repeated that all my friends were in jail, with a sigh.
 He gave me his card and said call me if they die.
 I shook his hand and said goodbye and went back out on the street,
 When a bowling ball came down the road and knocked me off my feet.
 A pay phone was ringin' and it just about blew my mind
 When I picked it up an' said hello, this foot came through the line
 Well about this time I was fed up at trying to make a stab
 At bringing back any help for my friends and captain arab.
 I decided to flip a coin, like either heads or tails,
 Would let me know if I should go back to ship or back to jail.
 So I hocked my sailor's suit an' I got a coin to flip.
 It came up tails, it rhymed with sails, so I made it back to the ship.
 Well I got back and took the parking ticket off the mast.
 I was ripping it to shreds when this coast guard boat went past.
 They asked me my name and I said captain kidd
 They believed me but they wanted to know exactly what I did
 I said for the pope of eyruke I was employed
 They let me go right away, they were very paranoid
 Well the last I heard of arab he was stuck on the side of a whale
 That was married to the deputy sheriff of the jail
 But the funniest thing was as I was leavin' the bay
 I saw three ships sailing and they were all headed my way
 I asked the captain what his name was an' how come he didn't drive a truck
 He said his name was Columbus an' I just said good luck
 
 or maybe
 
 They're selling postcards of the hanging, they're painting the passports brown
 The beauty parlor is filled with sailors, the circus is in town
 Here comes the blind commissioner, they've got him in a trance
 One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker, the other is in his pants
 And the riot squad they're restless, they need somewhere to go
 As Lady and I look out tonight, from Desolation Row
 Cinderella, she seems so easy, "It takes one to know one, " she smiles
 And puts her hands in her back pockets Bette Davis style
 And in comes Romeo, he's moaning. "You Belong to Me I Believe"
 And someone says, "You're in the wrong place, my friend, you'd better leave"
 And the only sound that's left after the ambulances go
 Is Cinderella sweeping up on Desolation Row
 Now the moon is almost hidden, the stars are beginning to hide
 The fortune telling lady has even taken all her things inside
 All except for Cain and Abel and the hunchback of Notre Dame
 Everybody is making love or else expecting rain
 And the Good Samaritan, he's dressing, he's getting ready for the show
 He's going to the carnival tonight on Desolation Row
 Ophelia, she's 'neath the window for her I feel so afraid
 On her twenty-second birthday she already is an old maid
 To her, death is quite romantic she wears an iron vest
 Her profession's her religion, her sin is her lifelessness
 And though her eyes are fixed upon Noah's great rainbow
 She spends her time peeking into Desolation Row
 Einstein, disguised as Robin Hood with his memories in a trunk
 Passed this way an hour ago with his friend, a jealous monk
 Now he looked so immaculately frightful as he bummed a cigarette
 And he when off sniffing drainpipes and reciting the alphabet
 You would not think to look at him, but he was famous long ago
 For playing the electric violin on Desolation Row
 Dr. Filth, he keeps his world inside of a leather cup
 But all his sexless patients, they're trying to blow it up
 Now his nurse, some local loser, she's in charge of the cyanide hole
 And she also keeps the cards that read, "Have Mercy on His Soul"
 They all play on the penny whistles, you can hear them blow
 If you lean your head out far enough from Desolation Row
 Across the street they've nailed the curtains, they're getting ready for the feast
 The Phantom of the Opera in a perfect image of a priest
 They are spoon feeding Casanova to get him to feel more assured
 Then they'll kill him with self-confidence after poisoning him with words
 And the Phantom's shouting to skinny girls, "Get outta here if you don't know"
 Casanova is just being punished for going to Desolation Row"
 At midnight all the agents and the superhuman crew
 Come out and round up everyone that knows more than they do
 Then they bring them to the factory where the heart-attack machine
 Is strapped across their shoulders and then the kerosene
 Is brought down from the castles by insurance men who go
 Check to see that nobody is escaping to Desolation Row
 Praise be to Nero's Neptune, the Titanic sails at dawn
 Everybody's shouting, "Which side are you on?!"
 And Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot fighting in the captain's tower
 While calypso singers laugh at them and fishermen hold flowers
 Between the windows of the sea where lovely mermaids flow
 And nobody has to think too much about Desolation Row
 Yes, I received your letter yesterday, about the time the doorknob broke
 When you asked me how I was doing, was that some kind of joke
 All these people that you mention, yes, I know them, they're quite lame
 I had to rearrange their faces and give them all another name
 Right now, I can't read too good, don't send me no more letters no
 Not unless you mail them from Desolation Row
 
 i could go on. . . actually even a simple one
 
 Maybe, it's the color of the sun cut flat
 And coverin' the crossroads I'm standing at
 Maybe it's the weather or something like that
 But mama, you been on my mind
 I don't mean trouble, please don't put me down, don't get upset
 I am not pleadin' or sayin', "I can't forget you"
 I do not walk the floor bowed down an' bent, but yet
 Mama, you just on my mind
 Even though my mind is hazy an' my thoughts they might be narrow
 Where you been don't bother me or bring me down in sorrow
 It don't even matter, where you're wakin' up tomorrow
 Mama, you just on my mind
 When you wake up in the mornin', baby, look inside your mirror
 You know I won't be next to you, you know I won't be near
 I'd just be curious to know if you can see yourself as clear
 As someone who has had you on his mind
 
 or. . .
 
 Far between sundown's finish an' midnight's broken toll
 We ducked inside the doorway, thunder crashing
 As majestic bells of bolts struck shadows in the sounds
 Seeming to be the chimes of freedom flashing
 Flashing for the warriors whose strength is not to fight
 Flashing for the refugees on the unarmed road of flight
 An' for each an' ev'ry underdog soldier in the night
 An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
 Through the city's melted furnace, unexpectedly we watched
 With faces hidden as the walls were tightening
 As the echo of the wedding bells before the blowin' rain
 Dissolved into the bells of the lightning
 Tolling for the rebel, tolling for the rake
 Tolling for the luckless, the abandoned an' forsakened
 Tolling for the outcast, burnin' constantly at stake
 An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
 Through the mad mystic hammering of the wild ripping hail
 The sky cracked its poems in naked wonder
 That the clinging of the church bells blew far into the breeze
 Leaving only bells of lightning and its thunder
 Striking for the gentle, striking for the kind
 Striking for the guardians and protectors of the mind
 An' the poet and the painter far behind his rightful time
 An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
 In the wild cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales
 For the disrobed faceless forms of no position
 Tolling for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts
 All down in taken-for-granted situations
 Tolling for the deaf an' blind, tolling for the mute
 For the mistreated, mateless mother, the mistitled prostitute
 For the misdemeanor outlaw, chaineded an' cheated by pursuit
 An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
 Even though a cloud's white curtain in a far-off corner flared
 An' the hypnotic splattered mist was slowly lifting
 Electric light still struck like arrows, fired but for the ones
 Condemned to drift or else be kept from drifting
 Tolling for the searching ones, on their speechless, seeking trail
 For the lonesome-hearted lovers with too personal a tale
 An' for each unharmful, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail
 An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
 Starry-eyed an' laughing as I recall when we were caught
 Trapped by no track of hours for they hanged suspended
 As we listened one last time an' we watched with one last look
 Spellbound an' swallowed 'til the tolling ended
 Tolling for the aching whose wounds cannot be nursed
 For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an' worse
 An' for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe
 An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
 
 or
 
 Of war and peace the truth just twists
 Its curfew gull just glides
 Upon four-legged forest clouds
 The cowboy angel rides
 With his candle lit into the sun
 Though its glow is waxed in black
 All except when 'neath the trees of Eden
 The lamppost stands with folded arms
 Its iron claws attached
 To curbs 'neath holes where babies wail
 Though it shadows metal badge
 All and all can only fall
 With a crashing but meaningless blow
 No sound ever comes from the Gates of Eden
 The savage soldier sticks his head in sand
 And then complains
 Unto the shoeless hunter who's gone deaf
 But still remains
 Upon the beach where hound dogs bay
 At ships with tattooed sails
 Heading for the Gates of Eden
 With a time-rusted compass blade
 Aladdin and his lamp
 Sits with Utopian hermit monks
 Side saddle on the Golden Calf
 And on their promises of paradise
 You will not hear a laugh
 All except inside the Gates of Eden
 Relationships of ownership
 They whisper in the wings
 To those condemned to act accordingly
 And wait for succeeding kings
 And I try to harmonize with songs
 The lonesome sparrow sings
 There are no kings inside the Gates of Eden
 The motorcycle black Madonna
 Two-wheeled gypsy queen
 And her silver-studded phantom cause
 The gray flannel dwarf to scream
 As he weeps to wicked birds of prey
 Who pick up on his bread crumb sins
 And there are no sins inside the Gates of Eden
 The kingdoms of experience
 In the precious wind they rot
 While paupers change possessions
 Each one wishing for what the other has got
 And the princess and the prince
 Discuss what's real and what is not
 It doesn't matter inside the Gates of Eden
 The foreign sun, it squints upon
 A bed that is never mine
 As friends and other strangers
 From their fates try to resign
 Leaving men wholly, totally free
 To do anything they wish to do but die
 And there are no trials inside the Gates of Eden
 At dawn my lover comes to me
 And tells me of her dreams
 With no attempts to shovel the glimpse
 Into the ditch of what each one means
 At times I think there are no words
 But these to tell what's true
 And there are no truths outside the Gates of Eden
 
 . . . oh but then we have mnm. . . yep give it to him. or you. or maybe someone you like. the only thing i feel slightly upse5t about is that Dylan accepted it. is all. but he sold out ages ago, so. i can live with it.
 
 also, mmasters of war, is a beautiful song. and enntirlley harsh. for the time.
 
 oh and just one more for luck
 
 The sweet pretty things are in bed now, of course
 The city fathers, they're trying to endorse
 The reincarnation of Paul Revere's horse
 But the town has no need to be nervous
 The ghost of Belle Starr, she hands down her wits
 To Jezebel the nun, she violently knits
 A bald wig for Jack the Ripper, who sits
 At the head of the Chamber of Commerce
 Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes
 Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for food
 I'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues
 The hysterical bride in the penny arcade
 Screaming, she moans, "I've just been made"
 Then sends out for the doctor, who pulls down the shade
 And says, "My advice is to not let the boys in"
 Now, the medicine man comes and he shuffles inside
 He walks with a swagger and he says to the bride
 "Stop all this weeping, swallow your pride
 You will not die, it's not poison"
 Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes
 Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for food
 I'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues
 Well, John the Baptist, after torturing a thief
 Looks up at his hero, the Commander-in-Chief
 Saying, "Tell me, great hero, but please make it brief
 Is there a hole for me to get sick in?"
 The Commander-in-Chief answers him while chasing a fly
 Saying, "Death to all those who would whimper and cry"
 And, dropping a barbell, he points to the sky
 Saying, "The sun's not yellow, it's chicken"
 Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes
 Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for food
 I'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues
 The king of the Philistines, his soldiers to save
 Puts jawbones on their tombstones and flatters their graves
 Puts the pied pipers in prison and fattens the slaves
 Then sends them out to the jungle
 Gypsy Davey with a blowtorch, he burns out their camps
 With his faithful slave Pedro behind him, he tramps
 With a fantastic collection of stamps
 To win friends and influence his uncle
 Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes
 Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for food
 I'm in trouble with the tombstone blues
 The geometry of innocence, flesh on the bone
 Causes Galileo's math book to get thrown
 At Delilah, who's sitting worthlessly alone
 But the tears on her cheeks are from laughter
 I wish I could give Brother Bill his great thrill
 I would set him in chains at the top of the hill
 Then send out for some pillars and Cecil B. DeMille
 He could die happily ever after
 Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes
 Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for food
 I'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues
 Where Ma Rainey and Beethoven once unwrapped their bedroll
 Tuba players now rehearse around the flagpole
 And the National Bank at a profit sells road maps for the soul
 To the old folks' home and the college
 Now, I wish I could write you a melody so plain
 That could hold you, dear lady, from going insane
 That could ease you and cool you and cease the pain
 Of your useless and pointless knowledge
 Mama's in the factory, she ain't got no shoes
 Daddy's in the alley, he's lookin' for food
 I'm in the kitchen with the tombstone blues, oh right
 
Worthy yes worthy. 
tectak
	 
		
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