"croce" poems
On the south side of kelso if it's there that ya choose to go
Well if its there ya go then ya just gotta know bout a man named tweaker joe
Now tweaker, he's a scrapper and if ya go down on his door
Don't you worry about wakin him up. He aint slept since 74
Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than a five eared dog
Now tweaker hes a scrapper and he likes his shiny things
And he likes to see what fun he has by the chaos that he brings
He got a custom BMX bike with a flashlight on the grill. He got 32 lb of brass in his pack, he got a dope bag in his shoe.
Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog
NOW Friday bout a week ago Tweaker scrappin cars. But at the end of the alley sat a cop named Thurman and ooh dat cop looked ******
Well he cast his light upon joe cuz Thurman had a plan
Tweaker joe learned a lesson bout messin with a future Sherriff man
Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog
Well the 2 men took to runnin and hes dragged down to the jail
Joey looked like a wrung out tweaker with a couple of teeth left
Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog
Well he's weird, weird tweaker joe
The weirdest tweaker in South Kelso
Weirder than a three toed frog
Stranger than s five eared dog
May 27, 2019
May 27, 2019 at 9:04 AM UTC
If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day till eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you
If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then
Again, I would spend them with you
But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do, once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go through time with
If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty, except for the memory of how
They were answered by you
-Jim Croce (1972)
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
Waking thoughts
Lyrics to a song
Shuffle through the playlist
Find the perfect one.
Too many can describe
My mental alibi
So I just take a little time
For the lyrics to fill my mind.
Growing up there was no blue sky rhyme
Metallica, pink Floyd and the cure
Were the ones to describe my youthful shrine.
Older plays
Took some blues away
How is it that I wasn't born
In the Woodstock age?
The doors, temptations, Jim Croce
Carol king
God! It's so godly when they sing.
Then I had to hit that puberty
Like a brick to the face
Picking out my own musical taste.
Adema, korn, Dresden dolls, tool.
Stone sour, shinedown, nine inch nails
Stone temple pilots and more as well.
Give me lyrics that could scream
All the screaming out of me.
Little did I know that in my scene
I thought my music was defining me.
I'm not music. Just flesh and bone
Maybe I should expand my treble tone.
Throw some chicks in there, you know?
No one should have a song on repeat
And have that be the song you hear when we meet.
So I searched for some musical relief
I enjoy a good scream sometimes
But that's not all I breathe.
Some motion city, say anything,
Yeah I like akon, lady sovereign,
A perfect circle and deftones
Classical Mozart and Beethoven makes me feel right at home.
Silver mt Zion, some Phillip glass,
Michael nyman, now I've achieved some class.
Pink when I feel like pop or brass
Punch guys in the **** cause I'm a chick
Hell yes!
No not really. The **** part, I mean.
But I actually really do like pink.
Jon Bon jovi or Otis redding
When I want to think of this guy that I'm loving.
I might have lost track of the lyrics I was originally thinking
But with my selection I'm derailing
With musical tasting.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
San Lorenzo, io lo so perché tanto
di stelle per l'aria tranquilla
arde e cade, perché sì gran pianto
nel concavo cielo favilla.
Ritornava una rondine al tetto:
l'uccisero: cadde tra spini:
ella aveva nel becco un insetto:
la cena dei suoi rondinini.
Ora è là, come in croce, che tende
quel verme a quel cielo lontano;
e il suo nido è nell'ombra, che attende
che pigola sempre più piano.
Anche un uomo tornava al suo nido:
l'uccisero: disse: Perdono;
e restò negli aperti occhi un grido:
portava due bambole in dono...
Ora là, nella casa romita,
lo aspettano, aspettano in vano:
egli immobile, attonito, addita
le bambole al cielo lontano.
E tu, Cielo, dall'alto dei mondi
sereni, infinito, immortale,
oh! d'un pianto di stelle lo inondi
quest'atomo opaco del Male!
1.1k
'O terzo piano, int' 'o palazzo mio,
a pporta a mme sta 'e casa na famiglia,
ggente per bene... timorata 'e Ddio:
marito, moglie, 'o nonno e quatto figlie.
'O capo 'e casa, 'On Ciccio Caccavalle,
tene na putechella int' 'o Cavone:
venne aucielle, scigne e pappavalle,
ma sta sempe arretrato c' 'opesone.
'E chisti tiempe 'a scigna chi s' 'a compra?!
Venne ogni morte 'e papa n'auciello;
o pappavallo è addiventato n'ombra,
nun parla cchiù p' 'a famma, 'o puveriello!
'A moglie 'e Caccavalle, Donn'Aminta,
è una signora con le mani d'oro:
mantene chella casa linda e pinta
ca si 'a vedite è overo nu splendore.
'O nonno, sittant'anne, malandato,
sta segregato dint'a nu stanzino:
'O pover'ommo sta sempe malato,
tene 'e dulure, affanno e nun cammina.
E che bbuò fà! Nce vonno 'e mmedicine,
a fella 'e carne, 'o ppoco 'e muzzarella...
Magnanno nce 'o vuò dà 'o bicchiere 'e vino
e nu tuscano pe na fumatella?
'A figlia, Donn'Aminta, notte e ghiuorno
fa l'assistenza al caro genitore;
trascura 'e figlie e nun se mette scuorno,
e Don Ciccillo sta cu ll'uocchie 'a fora.
Don Ciccio Caccavalle, quanno è 'a sera
ca se ritira, sta sempe ammurbato
pe vvia d' 'o nonno ('o pate d' 'a mugliera),
e fa: - Che ddiece 'e guaio ch'aggio passato. -
Fra medicine, miedece e salasse
'o pover'ommo adda purtà sta croce.
Gli affari vanno male, non s'incassa,
e 'o viecchio nun è carne ca lle coce.
E chesto è overo... 'On Ciccio sta nguaiato!
Porta sul'issso 'o piso 'ncoppa 'e spalle;
'o viecchio nun'è manco penzionato
e s'è appuiato 'ncuollo a Caccavalle.
'O viecchio no... nun vò senti raggione.
Pretenne 'a fella 'e carne, 'a muzzarella...
'A sera po', chello ca cchiù indispone:
- Ciccì, mme l'he purtata 'a sfugliatella? -
Don Ciccio vò convincere 'a mugliera,
ca pure essendo 'a figlia, ragiunasse:
- 'O vicchiariello soffre 'e sta manera...
è meglio ca 'o Signore s' 'o chiammasse! -
E infatti Caccavalle, ch'è credente,
a San Gennaro nuosto ha fatt' 'o vuto:
- Gennà, si 'o faje murì te porto argiento!...
sta grazia me l'he fà... faccia 'ngialluta! -
Ma Caccavalle tene n'attenuante,
se vede ca nun naviga int' a ll'oro...
Invece io saccio 'e ggente benestante
che tene tant' 'e pile 'ncopp' 'o core!
979
Ritrovarmi in questo ovale
con un legame vitale
in solitudine a volteggiare
con l 'infinito aspettare
di qualcosa.
Sognare
di poter camminare
in un nuoto perpetuo
di pensieri
intravedendo una luce bianca.
La fine di tutto.
Uno schiocco
Un pianto.
La nascita della vita in bracccio a giganti biancheggianti.
Crescendo vidi cose senza senso
cosciente del perduto collettivo senno.
Vidi uomini con biancheggianti vestiti
baciare e non procreare
di fronte a un freddo altare
in nome di una croce
e un continuo narrare.
Esseri travestiti
professare falsi miti
e scuole dove si imparava a vivere
lasciando l'intelligenza reprimere.
Sicuri di un tranquillo lavoro
si sedevano su un falso trono
lasciando che un finto quadrato
rubassero loro gli anni d'oro.
Ed ora piano piano mi invecchio
sperando ancora in un qualche cambiamento.
Disteso in un biancheggiante letto
rimango cosciente che della vita
e delle esperienze connesse ad essa
non mi interessa piu niente.
Tutto improvvisamente si illumina di bianco
e mi appresto al grande salto.
Ma con me non posso portare nient'altro
che un tatuaggio
situato dentro al cuore
con impresso dentro il nome
di quella persona che in questa vita
mi diede tanto amore.
984
Di queste case
non è rimasto
che qualche
brandello di muro
Di tanti
che mi corrispondevano
non è rimasto
neppure tanto
Ma nel cuore
nessuna croce manca
É il mio cuore
il paese più straziato.
831
There's a man in a purple shirt
eating ice cream
at eight in the morning,
a lady in a wheel chair
putting on lipstick
& an elderly couple
sitting
across from me
figuring out their smart phone.
Jim Croce croons
about time in a bottle
as the tapping of shoes
crisscrosses the concourse.
A baby screams
and three workers
converse in Espanol.
The ticket-taker types frantically
on her keyboard
as Mr. Nice guy
is longer,
he's ****** about
his missing reservation.
And me,
silent as can be,
sits here alone
banging away on my own cell,
connected to another world,
oblivious to those around me.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 7:35 AM UTC
We were in
the Santa Croce
in Florence.
My mother
was talking
as she often did
about the process of things
and how
the capitalist system
would come to an end.
I switched off
and noticed Odette
walking nearby
one of the chapels.
She was alone
her cousin
must have been
elsewhere(thank God).
She saw me
and blushed
but walked
towards us
in her white blouse
and blue jeans.
My mother paused
her Marxist talk
and asked Odette
how she was
and where
her cousin was.
Odette said
her cousin was with
the novelist
who was staying
at the same pension
as we were
and who talked
endlessly
about her books
and her plot
for her new book
set in Florence.
I noticed
Odette's *******
pushing
against the cloth
of her white blouse
and how her eyes
seemed to light up
when our eyes met.
My mother began
her lecture
on Italian art
and the corruption
of the Catholic Church.
I wanted my mother
to go elsewhere
so I could be alone
with Odette
and capture
each aspect of her
and never forget.
Jun 13, 2017
Jun 13, 2017 at 6:46 AM UTC
“Do you like it like this? Do you like it like that?
Just tell me which way you like it”
Thank you, J.T.
Jim Croce sang it, too.
“No, it doesn't have to be that way.”
Remember the Blow Monkeys?
Jackson Browne
Quoted, saying, “You have to take the trouble,
To try not to be misunderstood.”
Words spoken in the thick
Post-mortem.
Not ever remembered prior to.
Neurons wired to align to emotion
With the perfect elixir of chemical responses
Lining up
Wake up to choosing sensibly
Utilize hidden wisdom
As preventative care leaps to the front of the line.
Jun 27, 2017
Jun 27, 2017 at 3:50 PM UTC
I float among an ether,
As we all do I suppose--
An ether of numbers,
A zeitgeist of digital woe.
Jim Croce once sang
Of his having a name.
A member of this world, yes,
Singing the individual refrain.
The place where I live,
They desire community;
But it’s all contrived--
We’re just dollar signs in unity.
Sadly, we will be nothing more.
We’ve been lulled to a desperate sleep.
This ether of digital zeitgeist
Will not our souls to keep.
May 7, 2017
May 7, 2017 at 11:26 PM UTC
JIM CROCE LYRICS
Play Music
"Time In A Bottle"
If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day till eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you
If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then
Again, I would spend them with you
But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do, once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go through time with
If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty, except for the memory of how
They were answered by you
But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do, once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go through time with
Dec 22, 2014
Dec 22, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
Operator
can you help me make this call,...
I am so sorry to interrupt
yes I know it's your diner time
yes yes fine wine and lamb chops
yes that sounds so nice
but my alarm has sounded thrice
there is an error in the universal code
this could effect the entire basic mode
if reality strains
and perceptions drain
then the world could tear
and the membranes would sear
the whole system will crash
different places would mash
together the strain
could end all planes
before that event
your own will can never be bent
no time to finish that dinner mutton
you must hit the-universal abort button.
* The first line is borrowed from a Jim Croce song but I mean it totally different.
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 11:52 AM UTC
Every time I see your lips,
The way they move when you talk to me,
Those eyes when you look at me,
So intensely. I’m in love. Deeply.
I’m hurt badly, deep down.
The sorrow of a good heart.
Just wanting to be loved,
Just wanting to be yours. Truly.
I want to hold your hand, firmly.
Hold you close to me.
Stare into your bewitching eyes,
Till the end of time.
I want to say “I love you baby.”
But sadly that’s something I just couldn’t.
Cause you weren’t here no more.
Not here to say that you’re mine.
Just when I realised, I’m in love with you.
If I could just go back in time,
To all the times we’ve been together,
I would like to save all our moments,
In a bottle just like Jim Croce.
If I could just see you again,
Kiss you on your cherry lips,
Tell you that I love you,
In your warm embrace.
Jul 11, 2019
Jul 11, 2019 at 9:04 AM UTC
Passò strosciando e sibilando il nero
nembo: or la chiesa squilla; il tetto, rosso,
luccica; un fresco odor dal cimitero
viene, di bosso.
Presso la chiesa; mentre la sua voce
tintinna, canta, a onde lunghe romba;
ruzza uno stuolo, ed alla grande croce
tornano a bomba.
Un vel di pioggia vela l'orizzonte;
ma il cimitero, sotto il ciel sereno,
placido olezza: va da monte a monte
l'arcobaleno.
582
I love this song so so much. I just wanted to share x
Jim Croce - Time in a bottle
If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day till eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you
If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then
Again, I would spend them with you
But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do, once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go through time with
If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty, except for the memory of how
They were answered by you
But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do, once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go through time with
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HzseFAVjKrg
Jun 30, 2016
Jun 30, 2016 at 5:07 PM UTC
The day has been long,
And the day has been hot and still,
I sit here sweating in this dining room,
The sliding glass door open to the cooler night air,
Jim Croce is recollecting a story from his time in the National Guard.
That's what it was like with some fellas,
They'd get bad news while out on an exercise or during training,
It feels like a hammer blow to the gut,
You get numb,
And most guys,
They just continue with training,
Falling back on what they know,
Their muscle memory kicking in whilst the mind reels,
I had 3 death notifications like that,
And it never gets any easier,
Just harder,
For you learn to see the signs that someone is about to get a death notice,
The Chaplain shows up to your unit's location any day other than Sunday.
You're pulled off the line unexpectedly,
Other such things.
And all the time you're wondering who's it for,
Who gets the proverbial short end of the stick called fate this time,
And if it's a buddy,
You find time to have a beer with them when you get home.
Hell, if you don't know them all that well,
You find time to have a beer with them when you get home,
Because that's what you do,
Your unit is like family in the Infantry.
I've been present for births of my friends children, watch them grow up from a newborn into a child,
I've babysat them,
Been present for birthdays,
They've launched themselves at top speed in flying tackles,
Crying out "Uncle Alex!"
Knowing I'd have some home baked treat I'd whipped up for them.
Ive helped their fathers bury family pets,
I've been there through divorces.
I try to visit when I can now, which isn't as often as I'd like.
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 1:02 AM UTC
7 AM this morning the Internet went out.
Streaming TV stopped iPhone too.
All day long, Internet outage wreaked havoc on the shops in the city.
Stores could not process ATM cards
Banks could not give you any money
Incoming outgoing calls dropped
We don’t realize how dependent we are
Spectrum, quoted verbatim
Internet disrupted in Redding due to vandalism. Spectrum confirms.
This is the second time in three months
Spectrum Internet down, in Shasta County
they continue “our fiber lines were cut
this morning as a result of vandalism in Redding. Affecting communities through
Shasta County. Due to the vandalism we
had to repair more than 850 strands of fiber optics to restore our service. Outage from
7 AM fully Restored 4:30 PM”
I speculate This experiment was an exercise
The effects of pulling down just Internet,
without taking out the power.
Without Internet use, the city fell
The funny thing is, the three notifications I received from Spectrum. I did not get until after the Internet was fully restored.
Not trying to be a conspiracy theories
One cannot help but wonder if this has anything to do with voting early?
Or was this a trial run for
a bigger outage on election day?
Bank your vote
Make a note
Vote early get it done
Tell your friends, everyone
Inspired songs
1) The telephone line
by electric light Orchestra(ELO) 1976
2) operator by Jim Croce 1972
3) telephone Man by Meri Wilson 1977
Oct 12, 2024
Oct 12, 2024 at 10:34 PM UTC