All these worlds are yours except Europa. Attempt no landing there. Use them together. Use them in peace.

his feet were torn
by his skateboard
ripped jeans to shorts
won't do no chores

i'm so bored
yeah i'm so bored

skin like dirt
christian death shirt
sun kissed and curved
those guys were jerks

i'm so bored
life's a chore

his feet were torn
by his skate board
ripped jeans to shorts
those guys were jerks

i'm so bored
yeah i'm so bored

So Bored by Wavves covered by Anamanaguchi

We couldn't stop staring at the sky; how the stars seemed to list as we listed, as though they, too, had lost their teacups, their beds.

They told me you had been to her

They told me you had been to her,
And mentioned me to him;
She gave me a good character,
But said I could not swim.

He sent them word I had not gone.
(We know it to be true.)
If she should push the matter on,
What would become of you?

I gave her one, they gave him two,
You gave us three or more;
They all returned from him to you,
Though they were mine before.

If I or she should chance to be
Involved in this affair,
He trusts to you to set them free,
Exactly as we were.

My notion was that you had been
(Before she had this fit)
An obstacle that came between
Him and ourselves and it.

Don't let him know she liked them best,
For this must ever be
A secret, kept from all the rest,
Between yourself and me.

The White Rabbit's Verses by Lewis Carroll

And miles to go before I sleep

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

Gosh things are awfully confusing

After you've been to bed together for the first time,
without the advantage or disadvantage of any prior acquaintance,
the other party very often says to you,
Tell me about yourself, I want to know all about you,
what's your story? And you think maybe they really and truly do

sincerely want to know your life story, and so you light up
a cigarette and begin to tell it to them, the two of you
lying together in completely relaxed positions
like a pair of rag dolls a bored child dropped on a bed.

You tell them your story, or as much of your story
as time or a fair degree of prudence allows, and they say,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,
each time a little more faintly, until the oh
is just an audible breath, and then of course

there's some interruption. Slow room service comes up
with a bowl of melting ice cubes, or one of you rises to pee
and gaze at himself with mild astonishment in the bathroom mirror.
And then, the first thing you know, before you've had time
to pick up where you left off with your enthralling life story,
they're telling you their life story, exactly as they'd intended to all
along,

and you're saying, Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,
each time a little more faintly, the vowel at last becoming
no more than an audible sigh,
as the elevator, halfway down the corridor and a turn to the left,
draws one last, long, deep breath of exhaustion
and stops breathing forever. Then?

Well, one of you falls asleep
and the other one does likewise with a lighted cigarette in his mouth,
and that's how people burn to death in hotel rooms.

Life Story by Tennessee Williams

We can't afford the finer things in life so we heist them all... We're criminals that never break the law!

While I sleep my wife writes words
on my back.
She wants me to feel what she thinks,
what's inside her chest.
When I wake the letter Q boils between
my shoulder blades
as if it were branded or etched.
I think she traced C
but there's longing in her and she hates
the word covet.
Her delicate hands can’t hold desire.
She is sitting on top of me
naked, though her hair clothes her.
The bed isn't large
enough for this love tracing from her
fingers. The room
diminishes when she opens her eyes.

Room With a Bed in the Middle by Curtis Bauer

The land of the blind

The Mother of Invention by Andy Bowser and Joseph M. Petrick

for t

the dream of him
holding me, knowing me
the gentleness of his skin
pressing softly,
quietly against mine,
he fills me up with memory
of a wild deer
in a dark green stillness,
strength full of innocence
uncomplicated and free

The Good Husband by J.L. Stanley

You control

Hi, pleased to meet you, my name is Lloyd Dobler,
I'll get straight to the point, won't take too much time from ya.

I'm probably the youngest person you'll get advice from today,
and you may think that a guy my age wouldn't have anything to say,
but it's said that observation, not old age, brings wisdom,
and I observe every single life lesson I'm given.

I won't attempt tell you how to love or be loved,
because you get a different genie each time that lantern is rubbed.
But I will offer you advice on dealing with life,
its ups and its downs, its troubles and its strifes.

Now I'm sure you've had times when you've felt down or angry,
wanted to lash out, punch a wall and be manly,
but the question I pose now will offer you a plan B,
and maybe some peace and quiet for your friends and family:

How hard is it to decide to be in a good mood,
and then just be in a good mood?
That's all I have to say because it's a straight up fact,
You control your emotions, it's as simple as that.

Waiting For The Beat To Kick In by Dan Les Sac vs. Scroobius Pip

It was not easy to live, being young, being so completely alone

In the dark we watch
our son's chest
swell and fall,
a balsa-wood airplane
still clutched in his fist
as he sleeps.
How reckless it seems.
How naive:
to love a thing
so fragile and so weak.

Our Situation by Patrick Phillips

The madman

Said the Eye one day, "I see beyond these valleys a mountain veiled with blue mist. Is it not beautiful?"

The Ear listened, and after listening intently awhile, said, "But where is any mountain? I do not hear it."

Then the Hand spoke and said, "I am trying in vain to feel it or touch it, and I can find no mountain."

And the Nose said, "There is no mountain, I cannot smell it."

Then the Eye turned the other way, and they all began to talk together about the Eye's strange delusion. And they said, "Something must be the matter with the Eye."

The Eye by Kahlil Gibran

I have nothing to say and I am saying it and that is poetry

If only I were ravished in his breast,
For I do love that man with all my heart,
And I would gladly, madly live the rest
Of my short days alone with him, apart

From all the world! And if, in holding me,
He should cry out, “My dear! Let us find love.
Let neither savage straits nor stormy seas
Keep us apart,” O, it would be enough!

If I should lie encircled in his clasp,
The way dark ivy climbs around the tree,
And Death should loom, resentful of my bliss,

And if he’d kiss and touch me tenderly,
Then would I breathe one long and deep-drawn kiss,
And I would die at peace, content at last.

Sonnet XIII - If Only I Were Ravished by Louise Labe

He'll make you remember how to be a person

HAD I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

He Wishes For The Cloths of Heaven by William Butler Yeats

There is nothing you can see that is not a flower; there is nothing you can think that is not the moon

Things in life aren't always quite what they seem, there’s more than one given angle to any one given scene.

My name's Mark, I go to Uni and College,
I don’t socialize that much,
I just revise and build knowledge.
At times I find that I become a virtual recluse
and let my belt of interaction hang decisively loose.
But I came here to learn, that’s the life that I choose
and if people think I’m boring then they can bring their abuse.
See, a lot of people think I’m boring and say
that maybe I’m a weirdo and maybe I’m gay
but that’s cool, ‘cause when I get a good job and good pay
I’ll get a house for just my brother and me some day.
That’s the reason I’m here, just to build for my future.
If it means better grades I’d even sleep with my tutor.

My name’s Paul, I’ve been a guard for six months
and the shop that I guard is better than most dumps.
And I like it here. My boss is a pro,
he’s taught me tricks of the trade other guards wouldn’t know.
He’s taught me in this game there’s some rules you gotta bend
and not to forget these thieving pricks ain’t your friends
and appearance is key there’s a message to send
and above all it’s your fellow guards to defend.
The other day my boss was stabbed by some low-life psycho,
He’s in hospital now so every night that’s where I go,
he’s on the brink but he’s showing no fear though
‘cause if he dies there, he’ll be dieing a hero.

My name’s Keith, I ain’t so much a racist.
But if one reached out their hand I'd decline their embrace.
I work security in a shop, in charge of 5 other guards,
I got all their respect ‘cause I run this shit hard.
I nicked one kid today, didn’t show enough respect and attention.
I grabbed him by his neck as my form of redemption.
Didn’t do no harm, just made sure that it hurt,
it ain’t going by the book but believe me it works.
Then I sent him on his way, this little shit knows the score now.
I saw a little bit of fear, he won’t darken my door now.
That’s what I do, stop these kids from decline,
do what their parents won’t do, put down some boundaries and lines.

My name’s Billy. I’ve been beaten since I was three,
Mum died when I was born and Dad takes it out on me.
He ain’t a bad man, He just gets drunk and feels alone.
I tend to go for walks and hope he’s asleep when I get home.
Don’t like to talk about it though. As I said, it ain’t his fault,
it only happens when he’s drunk as a last resort.
Wanted to get him a gift, to show my support,
but had no money and I stole and I guess I got caught.
At times like that, I tend to switch off my mind,
stare blankly into space and let what happens unwind.
I seemed to anger this guard, he put his hands around my neck,
he said it’s time for me to learn some manners and respect.
It hurt. But I’ve had worse before,
it made me realize life is just a series of wars.
I went straight home that day and locked the bathroom door.
Took a blade to both wrists, they won’t hurt me no more.

My name's Mark, and today I was told my brother is dead.
I returned home from university, tears on his bed.
On his pillow I found his suicide note and read
what had happened that day and what had fucked up his head.
The anger I felt there are no words to express,
I filled with so much rage there is no way to digest.
I grabbed a knife, I went to town, it was time to regress
back to an eye for an eye, last breath for last breath.
I went straight up to the counter, I said I'd like to speak
to the guard who nicked my brother on Tuesday of this week.
As the girl knocked on the door and disappeared out of sight,
I put my hand in my pocket, gripped the knife tight.
This was it, as she pointed me out to the guard,
my hand began to shake I held the knife so hard.
As he approached me, there was nothing to say.
I stabbed that fucker eight times, before they could take me away.

Excerpts from Angles by Dan Le Sac vs. Scroobius Pip

So I got one that was crazy

In A Dream directed by Jeremiah Zagar

I apologize for my mistakes and when my words are misconstrued

some people simply need to
be unhappy, they'll scrounge it out
of any given situation
taking every opportunity
to point out
every simple error
or oversight
and then become
hateful
dissatisfied
vengeful.

don't they realize that
there's so little
time
for each of us
in this strange
life to make things
whole?
and to squander
our lives living
like that
is nearly
unforgivable?

and that
there's never
ever
any way
then
to recover
all that which will be
thus lost
forever?

A Terrible Need by Charles Bukowski