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te provoaca sa gandesti
fiste cine
Vad vreo trei mesaje ai caror autori, oripilati de continutul asa-numit rasist, cereau radierea subiectului. Da' de ce sa fie interzis? Fiindca nu-i "politically corect"? Adica numai opiniile "onorabile" pot fi admise? Poate ar trebui sa supunem subiectele intai cenzurii ONU, Uniunii Europene sau sa cerem aprobarea tribunalului de la Haga.
Alt mesaj sustinea ca: "Daca nu ar fi fist inrobiti, si sute de ani impusi sa-si verse sudoarea pe mosiile boerilor din România, rromii poate nu mai erau azi acei care sint. Psihologiea de rob nu putea sa nu-si lasa amprenta negativa in felul lor de a fi. La fel si prigonirea si marginalizarea, la care au fost supusi de catre autoritati, chit si de societate, pe tot parcursul aflarii lor in Europa, a influentat saracia si primitivizmul, modul de viata si psihologiia sociala a rromilor. " Va sa zica ei sunt buni de felul lor, dar prin inrobire au ajuns ce sunt acum. Tocmai tarile romane unde tiganii au avut un regim juridic de sclavie s-au dovedit cele mai tolerante. In tarile ocidentale au fost cat se poate de liberi, iar masurile de expulzare a lor au continuat vreme de patru secole. Pare-se ca nici liberi nu s-au purtat mai frumos. Ii vrea vreuna din tarile bogate ca sa-i educe, sa-i sedentarizeze si sa le dea cetatenie? Si pentru simpatizantii tiganilor, o intrebare: Nu sunteti de acord ca "tigan" are un sens peirorativ? ai putea sa-ncepi miseleste de-acolo de unde se ciocnesc abulantele de salvari, sau din triaj, unde se pare ca n-a mai ajuns, sarutand padelele cand ala tzipa ‘cleaar’, “inapoi”, ca la ciuma…Se zguduiau amandoi, ca sinele sub tramvai si viata, tarandu-si picoarele dinapoi, urla ca o catea taiata de tren.(::)
in confuzia asta el-ea, textul de sus imi aminteste vag de-o melodie a lui Nick Cave, ce-obisnuiam s-o ascult, far' de-a ma gandi prea mult la sensuri: They call me The Wild Rose But my name is Elisa Day Why they call me it I do not know For my name is Elisa Day From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one As she stared in my eyes and smiled For her lips were the colour of the roses That grew down the river, all bloody and wild When he knocked on my door and entered the room My trembling subsided in his sure embrace He would be my first man, and with a careful hand He wiped at the tears that ran down my face On the second day I brought her a flower She was more beautiful than any woman I'd seen I said, "Do you know where the wild roses grow So sweet and scarlet and free?" On the second day he came with a single red rose Said: "Will you give me your loss and your sorrow?" I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed He said, "if I show you the roses will you follow?" On the third day he took me to the river He showed me the roses and we kissed And the last thing I heard was a muttered word As he stood smiling above me with a rock in his fist On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief As I kissed her goodbye, I said, "All beauty must die" And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth se-nfige-atunci in mine, intrebarea, ca un spin: cate ambulate trebuie sa-i aplici unui mort, sa le putem numi salvari? alice iacob
"Garcia Márquez's Farewell to His Friends"
- de
Florin si atat
la: 28/08/2004 22:04:59
(la: Avem timp) Poezia de mai sus imi aduce aminte de
"Garcia Márquez's Farewell to His Friends" Initial atribuita lui Garcia Machez, a fost o pacaleala. Detaiile le puteti gasi la: http://www.psa-rising.com/voices/farewell/index.htm http://www.psa-rising.com/voices/farewell/index.htm If for a moment God would forget that I am a rag doll and give me a scrap of life, possibly I would not say everything that I think, but I would definitely think everything that I say. I would value things not for how much they are worth but rather for what they mean. I would sleep little, dream more. I know that for each minute that we close our eyes we lose sixty seconds of light. I would walk when the others loiter; I would awaken when the others sleep. I would listen when the others speak, and how I would enjoy a good chocolate ice cream. If God would bestow on me a scrap of life, I would dress simply, I would throw myself flat under the sun, exposing not only my body but also my soul. My God, if I had a heart, I would write my hatred on ice and wait for the sun to come out. With a dream of Van Gogh I would paint on the stars a poem by Benedetti, and a song by Serrat would be my serenade to the moon. With my tears I would water the roses, to feel the pain of their thorns and the incarnated kiss of their petals...My God, if I only had a scrap of life... I wouldn't let a single day go by without saying to people I love, that I love them. I would convince each woman or man that they are my favourites and I would live in love with love. I would prove to the men how mistaken they are in thinking that they no longer fall in love when they grow old--not knowing that they grow old when they stop falling in love. To a child I would give wings, but I would let him learn how to fly by himself. To the old I would teach that death comes not with old age but with forgetting. I have learned so much from you men.... I have learned that everybody wants to live at the top of the mountain without realizing that true happiness lies in the way we climb the slope. I have learned that when a newborn first squeezes his father's finger in his tiny fist, he has caught him forever. I have learned that a man only has the right to look down on another man when it is to help him to stand up. I have learned so many things from you, but in the end most of it will be no use because when they put me inside that suitcase, unfortunately I will be dying. An American Prayer
Do you know the warm progress under the stars? Do you know we exist? Have you forgotten the keys to the Kingdom? Have you been borne yet and are you alive? Let's reinvent the gods, all the myths of the ages Celebrate symbols from deep elder forests (Have you forgotten the lessons of the ancient war?) We need great golden copulations The fathers are cackling in trees of the forest Our mother is dead in the sea Do you know we are being led to slaughters by placid admirals and that fat slow generals are getting obscene on young blood Do you know we are ruled by T.V. The moon is a dry blood beast Guerilla bands are rolling numbers in the next block of green vine amassing for warfare on innocent herdsmen who are just dying O great creator of being grant us one more hour to perform our art and perfect our lives The moths and atheists are doubly divine and dying We live, we die and death not ends it Journey we more into the Nightmare Cling to life our passion'd flower Cling to cunts and cocks of despair We got our final vision by clap Columbus' groin got filled with green death (I touched her thigh and death smiled) We have assembled inside this ancient and insane theatre To propagate our lust for life and flee the swarming wisdom of the streets The barns are stormed The windows kept and only one of all the rest To dance and save us With the divine mockery of words Music inflames temperament (When the true King's murderers are allowed to roam free a 1000 magicians arise in the land) Where are the feasts we were promised Where is the wine The New Wine (dying on the vine) resident mockery give us an hour for magic We of the purple glove We of the starling flight and velvet hour We of arabic pleasure's breed We of sundome and the night Give us a creed To believe A night of Lust Give us trust in The Night Give of color hundred hues a rich Mandala for me and you And for your silky pillowed house a head, wisdom and a bed Troubled decree Resident mockery has claimed thee We used to believe in the good old days We still receive In little ways The Things of Kindness And unsporting brow Forget and allow Did you know freedom exists in a school book Did you know madmen are running our prison within a jail, within a gaol within a white free protestant Maelstrom We're perched headlong on the edge of boredom We're reaching for death on the end of a candle We're trying for something That's already found us We can invent Kingdoms of our own grand purple thrones, those chairs of lust and love we must, in beds of rust Steel doors lock in prisoner's screams and muzak, AM, rocks their dreams No black men's pride to hoist the beams while mocking angels sift what seems To be a collage of magazine dust Scratched on foreheads of walls of trust This is just jail for those who must get up in the morning and fight for such unusable standards while weeping maidens show-off penury and pout ravings for a mad staff Wow, I'm sick of doubt Live in the light of certain South Cruel bindings The servants have the power dog-men and their mean women pulling poor blankets over our sailors (and where were you in our lean hour) Milking your moustache? or grinding a flower? I'm sick of dour faces Staring at me from the T.V. Tower. I want roses in my garden bower; dig? Royal babies, rubies must now replace aborted Strangers in the mud These mutants, blood-meal for the plant that's plowed They are waiting to take us into the severed garden Do you know how pale and wanton thrillful comes death on strange hour unannounced, unplanned for like a scaring over-friendly guest you've brought to bed Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as raven's claws No more money, no more fancy dress This other Kingdom seems by far the best until its other jaw reveals incest and loose obedience to a vegetable law I will not go Prefer a Feast of Friends To the Giant family II Great screaming Christ Upsy-daisy Lazy Mary will get you up upon a Sunday morning "The movie will begin in 5 moments" The mindless Voice announced "All those unseated, will await The next show" We filed slowly, languidly into the hall. The auditorium was vast, and silent. As we seated and were darkened The Voice continued: "The program for this evening is not new. You have seen This entertainment thru and thru. You've seen your birth, your life and death; you might recall all of the rest -- (did you have a good world when you died?) -- enough to base a movie on?" An iron chuckle rapped our minds like a fist. I'm getting out of here Where're you going? To the other side of the morning Please don't chase the clouds pagodas, temples Her * gripped him like a warm friendly hand. "It's all right. All your friends are here." When can I meet them? "After you've eaten" I'm not hungry "O, we meant beaten" Silver stream, silvery scream, impossible concentration Here come the comedians look at them smile Watch them dance an indian mile Look at them gesture How aplomb So to gesture everyone Words dissemble Words be quick Words resemble walking sticks Plant them They will grow Watch them waver so I'll always be a word-man Better than a birdman But I'll charge Won't get away w/out lodging a dollar Shall I say it again aloud, you get the point No food w/out fuel's gain I'll be, the irish loud unleashed my beak at peak of powers O girl, unleash your worried comb O worried mind Sin in the fallen Backwoods by the blind She smells debt on my new collar Arrogant prose Tied in a network of fast quest Hence the obsession Its quick to admit Fats borrowed rhythm Woman came between them Women of the world unite Make the world safe For a scandalous life Hee Heee Cut your throat Life is a joke Your wife's in a moat The same boat Here comes the goat Blood Blood Blood Blood They're making a joke of our universe III Matchbox Are you more real than me I'll burn you, and set you free Wept bitter tears Excessive courtesy I won't forget IV A hot sick lava flowed up, Rustling and bubbling. The paper-face. Mirror-mask, I love you mirror. He had been brainwashed for 4 hrs. The LT. puzzled in again "ready to talk" "No sir" -- was all he'd say. Go back to the gym. Very peaceful Meditation Air base in the desert looking out venetian blinds a plane a desert flower cool cartoon The rest of the World is reckless and dangerous Look at the brothels Stag films Exploration V A ship leaves port mean horse of another thicket wishbone of desire decry the metal fox
kate bush - organic acid
- de
zaraza
la: 19/07/2005 23:37:13
(la: Versuri din melodiile voastre preferate...) ma fascineaza in ultima vreme.
ptr cine e interesat de un download: http://www.norbry.net/kate-bush/mp3/ He got her drunk very quickly Holding hands, they found the broom-cupboard Where he had control as far as the fall When his hand covered wet hair She took over among furniture wax Dust, and the cloying yellow of polishing-cloth When he was sick, she comforted him Oh hush, my friend, and sleep And cuddle to the wind Sleep on through the waves That may wet your lover's dream We have been far through this night long hours We will go far, tomorrow, out of sight, ooh... He couldn't do it properly The disco, the office, the pub, Had left out those details of delight. Satisfied, he would collapse out, Puzzled at why she still squirmed, Held onto him, tears curling into her mouth This was something their stories always omitted That her joy would seem like pain When he focused after his release. Do sand and shells and stones Peep in through your night? But you should not be hurt For all will pass with time. We have been far through this night long hours We will go far, tomorrow, out of sight, ooh... In the third week of the relationship She was tripping on organic acid Would stop to pick up a rained-out leaf Would give it tenderly into his hand Full of dead things before they reached the car When they drove she sat with mouth open As though photographed on the impact of a stomach punch Her right fist gripping the skin of his left leg Hooking the steering-wheel closer to his heart He feared her, and slapped out sideways into her face She entered the cut with her tongue Gurgling gratitude for the strange taste Do you fear the dark? Then hush, and realise That though the angels never come Prayers can soothe your mind We have been far through this night long hour We will go far, tomorrow, out of sight, ooh... There was no premonition of the wet Hog's Back The sportscar slumped, snout into a beech Their corpses giving the vehicle arms Petrol and blood at last dripping together But quick flashes of a planned lunch Cold red beef, white cloth by a cherrywood fire Game pie, and for him two pints of colder beer The winter air tucking under their eyelids As they spun on the gravel at Clandon Their hands steaming from quick moisture The aromatic finger drawn up to his nostril Dazed after mutual masturbation They zigzagged into a conservative end Oh hush, my friend, asleep.
Lipsa de informare sau, mai r
- de
pegaS
la: 01/11/2005 10:45:51
(la: Violenta: un "modus vivendi"?) Lipsa de informare sau, mai rau, dezinformarea sta la baza ideilor preconcepute iar comoditatea le alimenteaza. Ne creem propriile definitii, ne stabilim propriile repere si ne raportam la acestea dupa propriile principii... asta in masura in care ne rezumam la observare. Cand trecem la critica - fie ea pozitiva sau negativa - e de preferat s-o facem in cunostinta de cauza ceea ce nu e si cazul dv.
Acel cineva are o vaga idee vis-a-vis de Hiphop avand in vedere informatia nu tocmai corecta pe care v-a furnizat-o. Hiphop-ul ESTE o cultura - as spune chiar cu un potential enorm - manipulata, din pacate, de ceea ce numim showbiz. Cele 4 elemente (5, in acceptiuni mai noi) sunt MCing sau Rapping (partea vocala), DJing (tehnica bazata pe scratching, sampling & mixing ce asigura fondul sonor alaturi de compozitii proprii), Graffiti si B-Boying (Breakdance).. cea de-a 5-a ar fi Beatboxing (studiul si aplicarea muzicii facute cu ajutorul partilor corpului). Originile genului si variile sale aspecte sunt mult prea complexe pt. a le putea expune aici - cei interesati pot arunca o privire la http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rapping - la fel ca si raspunsul la intrebarea ta. Nu putem vorbi de un raspuns concret - Hiphop-ul este, ca de altfel orice manifestare artistica, o forma de exprimare libera (cu tot ce implica aceasta). Poate fi contra violentei, o poate promova sau poate fi parte neutra. Contrar ideii incetatenite conform careia Hiphop-ul trateaza exclusiv probleme sociale exista destule exemple in care personalul, abstractul, liricul primeaza partea muzicala fiind, de asemenea, in ton cu textul. Cine are rabdare sa citeasca s-o faca, cine nu sa lase balta subiectul... "I can recite the grass on the hill and memorize the moon I know the cloudforms of love by heart And have brought tears to the eye of a storm And my memory banks vaults of forests and amazon river banks And i've screamed them into sunsets that echo in earthquakes Shadows have been my spotlight As I monologue the night And dialogue with days Soliloquies of wind and breeze applauded by sun rays We put language in zoos to observe caged thought (...)" Saul Williams - Wine "I played connect the dots with your beauty marks And I ended up with picture perfect sheet music I read your musical notes with a composer's eyes And heard out song for the first time My spine is still tingling, mental images of your fine tune Is what I've been nodding my head to lately Every now and then you can catch me humming Your nudity under my heavy breath I heavily suggest you resurrect Your ancient neglected dust collector If you distrust the distance in my seldom plucked heart strings Sit stripped before your full length Perform your reflection backwards Maybe then you will understand the rhythm in my movement Listen when the news is sent Extend when the rules are bent I'll be waiting to take your leave Make me a victim of your two step Make me an apprentice of your body parts Teach me to dance to your beauty marks I'm stepping on toes here and I don't care It's hopeless, it's hopeless It's hopelessness holding this openess to blow a kiss So close your lips but don't get pissed And throw a fist at this vocalist I'm not emotionless, in fact I broke my wrist When I wrote the list of all those I miss This is my poker face, Mister Feel Nothing" Sage Francis - Hopeless "(...)There's smoke in my iris But I painted a sunny day on the insides of my eyelids So I'm ready now (What you ready for?) I'm ready for life in this city And my wings have grown almost enough to lift me I'm a dinosaur with Jones Beach in my hourglass Passing the time with serial killer coloringbooks and bags of marbles Don't tell me you ain't the droid that held the match to the charcoals Don't tell me Lucifer and God don't carpool (This is our school) I'm not trying to graduate to life at the curse on the lounge barstool Head in a jar on the desk, feet dangling in a shark pool (Man please) Man please My name stands for my being And my being stands for the woman who stood And braved the storm could raise this evening (Brother sun, sister moon, mother beautiful) Yeah middle sibling suitable but far from son of excellence (...) And I ain't getting any younger My knuckles wear their bruises well I've yet to lose that hunger But only time can tell Prodigal Son with a prodigal wish to sew that prodigal stitch And crucify bigot voodoo doll on two popsicle sticks See your name is Ambiguity My name is something hands can't hold But hearts part ocean scapes just to watch the starlet unfold (...)" Aesop Rock - Battery Si exemplele pot continua...
citeste te rog
- de
zana2000
la: 14/06/2007 13:23:22
(la: Pana unde merge recunostinta fata de parinti?) in aceeasi situatie sunt si eu.
Te inteleg foarte bine. DEsi mi-ar placea mai mult sa vb pe mess pentru ca ma simt mai bine,iti spun sa iti asculti inima. Eu de exemplu sunt romanca,iar el tigan.Si el e mai mic ca mine cu vreo 3 ani.Dar varsta n-a fost o problema mai ales cand el pare mai mare ca mine,iar eu mai mica ca el.M-am intalnit cu el pe ascuns in tot acest timp,ei au aflat eu am luat bataie rau de tot de f multe ori,am fost pedepsita,multe altele,dar n-am renuntat la el.Acum va trebui sa facem ceva pentru a pune capat relatiei pe ascuns si sa ne vedem pe fata.Intelegi? Noi luptam in fiecare zi ;e foarte greu cand nu poti fi cu el cand ai nevoie macar de un cuvatn ,o imbratisare,un zambet pentru a te simti mai bine.E greu cand il vezi in fiecare zi si nu poti macar sa te uiti in chii lui(si acest lucru mi-a fist interzis),,cand trebuie sa il consideri un strain.Te inteleg f bine de aceea te rog sa iti asculti inima,dar daor atunci cand il cunosti f bine pe iubitul tau,sau mai bine zis,poti baga mana in foc ca te iubeste ,atunci nu mai asculta pe nimeni si increde=te in fortele tale si spune-ti ca iubirea adevarata castiga intotdeauna.ID-ul meu este:georgiana_zana2000.Vorbim pe mes daca vrei,nu stiu varsta ta,sa iti pot spune ma imulte dar pentru orice sfat vb pe net. ai grija de tine depistarea clonelor in cazul nostru nu cred ca e necesar sa fie la fel de riguroasa ca un proces pentru "fist degree murder" e suficienta expunerea celor evidente
Mai, bata-te sa te bata!
Asta esti tu ? Si eu care te credeam un puisor ! Uite cum te inseala internetu' ! Da' esti barosan draga, ai iaht, ai si ce manca...Ai si ce bea... Si eu te credeam un coate goale, un fiste-cine! Un salariat mic si neinsemnat! Da' tu, barosan ! fisti, cacao, vaniiil :)))
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"despartirea in silabe a cuvantului veacveac"
"studenta" "mai lasati nasucu jos sa nu creasca mai mare" "a picta cu luimina" "hiat ae" "texe scoala este importanta pentru progresul omenirii" "despre presupozitia" ""lenea e sinucidere blanda" nicolae iorga cugetai" "<script>alert(“TinKode Lady Sony @ InSecurity Ro – Google XSS”)< script>" "esenin poezii in franceza" "sarpele alb" "mihai beniuc partidul" "tineti copii in casa vin vremuri grele" "lucky de sandra brown texas" "sandra braws dragosre lacrimi uitate" "cine iese" "model cerere intrare in adormire" "martir" "duq cheq uzum inc inchvor ban asel " "cerul zg%C3%AErcit se a%C5%9Fterne pe prag smulge aripa din talp%C4%83 s%C4%83 lunec pe cerc din iner%C5%A3ie" "flacara sens conotativ" "сompunere despre pace" "nu mai m-a contactat" "duelul" "serile de toamna" "20" "natura-ti da zilnic exemplul de a trai" "ontre doua nu te ploua" "tipar" "zii-le" mai multe... linkuri de la Ghidoo:
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(la: tigani)
La fel si prigonirea si marginalizarea, la care au fost supusi de catre autoritati, chit si de societate, pe tot parcursul aflarii lor in Europa, a influentat saracia si primitivizmul, modul de viata si psihologiia sociala a rromilor.
Azi ei merita o compatimire si un sprigin, si nicidecum moarte si izolare cum cer unii - neo.... Daca sa fim drepti si cinstiti in fata lui Dumnezeu si a istoriei atunci trebuie sa recunoastem ca autoritatile si societatea contemporana, nu numai Romaneasca ci si Europeana, poarta vina istorica pentru suferintele prin care au trecut si starea diplorabila in care se gasesc azi rromii. Daca am cunoaste adevarul prin ce au trecut ei si chit au suferit, am fi intr-un ghind cu totii - ca Rromii sint un popor martir ce merita sustinenr si compatimire.