Informer
Willow Columbo is Aunty Pam
Oh oh oh yeah
You see she is my Aunty’s next life
Oh oh oh yeah
Informer
She is the life
Of the Columbofamily oh yeah
She looks so good
Oh oh oh yeah
Informer
Willow Columbia is Aunty Pam
Oh oh oh yeah
You see she is growing up
To a beautiful young lady oh yeah
I am
Sure she will make a lot of friends
As heaven purely waits Aunty Pam’s cool look
Informer
Willow Columbo is Aunty Pam
Oh oh oh yeah
You see she looks like the little girl
In the grinch
Oh oh oh yeah
I liked Aunty Pam
She was nice to me
Informer
Willow columbo is Aunty Pam
Oh yeah bow bow

I received a message from an informer
Of someone whom can tell you
Why roses a red, answer the unanswerable and bring smiles to mourners
I hear. I believe. But I’m gonna leave the informer Blue
Ticks
I’ll respond when I need a fix

It is December in Wicklow:
Alders dripping, birches
Inheriting the last light,
The ash tree cold to look at.

A comet that was lost
Should be visible at sunset,
Those million tons of light
Like a glimmer of haws and rose-hips,

And I sometimes see a falling star.
If I could come on meteorite!
Instead I walk through damp leaves,
Husks, the spent flukes of autumn,

Imagining a hero
On some muddy compound,
His gift like a slingstone
Whirled for the desperate.

How did I end up like this?
I often think of my friends'
Beautiful prismatic counselling
And the anvil brains of some who hate me

As I sit weighing and weighing
My responsible tristia.
For what? For the ear? For the people?
For what is said behind-backs?

Rain comes down through the alders,
Its low conductive voices
Mutter about let-downs and erosions
And yet each drop recalls

The diamond absolutes.
I am neither internee nor informer;
An inner émigré, grown long-haired
And thoughtful; a wood-kerne

Escaped from the massacre,
Taking protective colouring
From bole and bark, feeling
Every wind that blows;

Who, blowing up these sparks
For their meagre heat, have missed
The once-in-a-lifetime portent,
The comet's pulsing rose.

Son of a Snitch

My daddy was an informer to the FBI,
got caught selling drugs to this undercover guy,
his only recourse was to tell what he knew,
but people found out and gave him the *****,
they even took it out on me, I'm Mitch,
and rubbed it in my face, call me son-of-a-snitch  

came home from work the other day,
looked for my ******* and my can of starch spray,
magazine was gone could not find it at all,
I said hey, who took my friggin book off the wall,
wife looked at me and with nary a hitch,
she said why you ask me you son-of-a-snitch

went to the super to get me some cheese,
beans and beer and bread if you please,
wanted a streak but the cost was to high,
asked man behind counter I say hey old guy,
why this price so high is this some glitch,
he say don't ask me you son-of-a-snitch

everywhere I go I get the same old crap,
a punch in the gut, a facefull of slap,
just because daddy bought his way out of debt,
this is the kind of treatment I always get,
I plead my case give it my best pitch,
quit that whining you son-of-a-snitch

Gomer LePoet...

Quand il s'agit de invitations .j'ai un petit faible grave .Ajoutez à la typographie ?Et je suis fait .Tel est le cas pour cette beauté éblouissante intemporel de Kimberly FitzSimons .Sa conception d'invitation parfaitement préparé le terrain pour ce classique .soirée élégante et je ne peut s'empêcher d'être en admiration .Continuez votre robe de soirée grande taille lecture pour entendre l'inspiration derrière l'invitation !

De Kimberly FitzSimons鈥J'ai conçu cette suite d'invitation pour la jeune mariée .Jessica .qui avait l'intention d'une réception de mariage classique et élégant à L' Hôtel Drake à Chicago .Elle était un client très mémorable pour moi parce que je n'ai pas seulement appris à s'asseoir avec elle.mais ses parents aussi!Ils ont chacun contribué entrée à ce qui est devenu un mariage magnifique suite d'invitation .Jessica avait une palette de couleurs très neutre ;blanc était une couleur focal avec des teintes subtiles .y compris une taupe de lumière crémeuse .Comme



vous pouvez le voir sur les photos de mariage de Jessica .ses couleurs fraîches robes demoiselles d honneur et neutres jumelés parfaitement avec son style poli .En fonction des préférences de Jessica pour les neutres et élégance classique .nous avons conçu cette invitation intemporel qui était typographie imprimée dans une encre de Cobblestone lumière sur le papier de coton blanc doux .\u003cp\u003e
Jessica a donné ses invités un aperçu de son beau jour de votre mariage à travers le papier .Son économie-le- dates (également imprimées en encre Cobblestone ) présentait robe de soirée grande taille un sens Frank Sinatra citation : " Le meilleur est encore à venir .viendra le jour Tu es à moi . "Elle a été suivie par un 7 " invitation typographique carré surdimensionné qui a été collée à un dossier de poche carrée qui avait un soupçon de lueur .Dans le dossier de poche .nous avons conçus à deux enceintes pour informer les clients de l'emplacement de réception et d'information de l'hébergement .Le dossier de poche a été scellé avec un carré de monogramme personnalisé avec les initiales du couple .\u003cp\u003e

Jessica et moi avons travaillé en étroite collaboration pour développer ce mariage suite d'invitation pour correspondre à son esthétique et couleurs .Nous avons commencé avec un design intemporel invitation et je conçu sur mesure toutes les pièces pour le reste de la suite .Les combinaisons de tailles.de couleurs d'encre .et des éléments du dossier de poche sont vastes .si Jessica a passé du temps sentir le papier .le tri à travers les couleurs de dossiers de poche et.finalement.faire des sélections qui reflètent sa vision .Jessica a choisi la typographie pour l'invitation .qui est ma spécialité .J'ai tout simplement adoré la façon dont l'ensemble du paquet est venu ensemble!Charmant.élégant .délicat et frais .
http://www.modedomicile.com/robe-demoiselle-dhonneur-c-60
planification de l'événement: Big City Bride | Invitations: Kimberly FitzSimons | Réception Lieu: Le Drake | Photographie d'invitation: Kimberly FitzSimons | Photographie de mariage : Lauren WakefieldKimberly FitzSimons est un membre de notre Little Black Book .Découvrez comment les membres sont choisis en visitant notre page de FAQ .Kimberly FitzSimons Letterpres ... voir le

Were’t aught to me I bore the canopy,
With my extern the outward honouring,
Or laid great bases for eternity,
Which proves more short than waste or ruining?
Have I not seen dwellers on form and favour
Lose all, and more, by paying too much rent
For compound sweet forgoing simple savour,
Pitiful thrivers in their gazing spent?
No, let me be obsequious in thy heart,
And take thou my oblation, poor but free,
Which is not mixed with seconds, knows no art
But mutual render, only me for thee.
    Hence, thou suborned informer, a true soul
    When most impeached stands least in thy control.

Yevgeny Yevtushenko*


No monument stands over Babi Yar.
A drop sheer as a crude gravestone.
I am afraid.
            Today I am as old in years
as all the Jewish people.
Now I seem to be
                a Jew.
Here I plod through ancient Egypt.
Here I perish crucified, on the cross,
and to this day I bear the scars of nails.
I seem to be
            Dreyfus.
The Philistine
              is both informer and judge.
I am behind bars.
                Beset on every side.
Hounded,
       spat on,
              slandered.
Squealing, dainty ladies in flounced Brussels lace
stick their parasols into my face.
I seem to be then
                a young boy in Byelostok.
Blood runs, spilling over the floors.
The barroom rabble-rousers
give off a stench of ***** and onion.
A boot kicks me aside, helpless.
In vain I plead with these pogrom bullies.
While they jeer and shout,
                         "Beat the Yids. Save Russia!"
some grain-marketeer beats up my mother.
0 my Russian people!
                   I know
                         you
are international to the core.
But those with unclean hands
have often made a jingle of your purest name.
I know the goodness of my land.
How vile these anti-Semites-
                            without a qualm
they pompously called themselves
the Union of the Russian People!
I seem to be
            Anne Frank
transparent
           as a branch in April.
And I love.
          And have no need of phrases.
My need
       is that we gaze into each other.
How little we can see
                     or smell!
We are denied the leaves,
                         we are denied the sky.
Yet we can do so much --
                        tenderly
embrace each other in a darkened room.
They're coming here?
                    Be not afraid. Those are the booming
sounds of spring:
                 spring is coming here.
Come then to me.
               Quick, give me your lips.
Are they smashing down the door?
                                No, it's the ice breaking ...
The wild grasses rustle over Babi Yar.
The trees look ominous,
                      like judges.
Here all things scream silently,
                               and, baring my head,
slowly I feel myself
                    turning gray.
And I myself
            am one massive, soundless scream
above the thousand thousand buried here.
I am
     each old man
                 here shot dead.
I am
    every child
               here shot dead.
Nothing in me
             shall ever forget!
The "Internationale," let it
                            thunder
when the last anti-Semite on earth
is buried forever.
In my blood there is no Jewish blood.
In their callous rage, all anti-Semites
must hate me now as a Jew.
For that reason
                I am a true Russian!

The great man lies dead in his bullet riddled clothes.
The ambush was more successful than De Valera dared suppose.
Michael Collins was a traitor to Republican ideals.
His treaty gave over to the Brits one fourth of our green fields.
Everyone thought me his friend. I was always by his side.
Yet I knew enough to stay away on this day he died.
When he fired on the Inns of Court I decided he’d go down..
Though some may say he was a Saint, once safely in the ground.
They say that he fought bravely, though surrounded with long odds.
A proper, fitting sacrifice to lay before our gods.
Nations must be born in blood if they are ever to be free.
Free of allegiance to a Crown and capped with Liberty

The Informers
Every on is prisoner of his own interest
World is full of all types of but jugglers
Trust is eaten up by greed, avarice,lust
By ulterior motives they keep on but altar
All those who are travelers of right path
Remain always virtuous, straightforward
Against all evils they are but on warpath
They remain ready to sacrifice ,shed blood
Evil Informers die the death of a culprit
Who will have no shelter on his ***** way
To Satan his soul he will he has to submit
Being characterless with all the areas gray
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2017 Golden Glow