It is only the inferior thinker who hastens to explain the singular and the complex by the primitive shortcut of supernaturalism.
quote by H.P. Lovecraft
Added by Lucian Velea
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Primitive Love
Primitive love
I want what it used to be, primitive love
No modern love, its all a hustle
Whats done is done, now its my turn to have some fun
Youre much to sly, dont give me alibis
I dont want to know, I dont want to know
Primitive love
I want what it used to be
I want it, primitive love
Primitivie love, I want what is used to be
I want what it used to be, primitive love
I want, I need, primtive love
You dont have to worry , I dont want your money
I dont have to think, right now youve got me at the brink
This is good-bye for all the times I cried
Dont want no more, dont want no more
Primitive love
I want what it used to be
I want it, primitive love
Primitivie love, I want what is used to be
I want what it used to be, primitive love
I want, I need, primitive love
Is it right, or is it wrong?
Primitive drums call me backward into stone
Pack up and leave, Im not yours to deceive
Dont want you no more, dont want you no more
Primitive love
I want what it used to be
I want it, primitive love
Primitivie love, I want what is used to be
I want what it used to be, primitive love
I want, I need, primtive love
song performed by Gloria Estefan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Can't Explain
Got a feeling inside, it's a certain kind
I feel hot and cold deep down in my soul
I said I can't explain, I'm feeling good now baby
I'm dizzy in my head and I'm feeling blue
Things you've said, well maybe they're true
I'm getting funny dreams again and again
I know what it means but
Can't explain, I think it's love
Try to say it to you when I feel blue
But I can't explain (Can't explain)
Just hear what I'm saying baby (Can't explain)
Dizzy in the head and I'm feeling bad
Things you've said got me real mad
I'm getting funny dreams again and again
I know what it means but
Can't explain, I think it's love
Try to say it to you when I feel blue
But I can't explain (Can't explain)
Just hear me one more time baby (Can't explain)
Dizzy in the head and I'm feeling bad
Things you've said got me real mad
I'm getting funny dreams again and again
I know what it means but
Can't explain, I think it's love
Try to say it to you when I feel blue
But I can't explain (Can't explain)
Just hear me one more time baby (Can't explain)
She drive me out of my mind (Can't explain)
She drive me out of my mind (Can't explain)
You drive me out of my my my my my my my mind (Can't explain)
You drive me out of my mind (Can't explain)
You drive me out of my mind (Can't explain)
Oooh yeah, I can't explain...
I can't explain baby!
song performed by Scorpions
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Cant Explain
Got a feeling inside, its a certain kind
I feel hot and cold deep down in my soul
I said I cant explain, Im feeling good now baby
Im dizzy in my head and Im feeling blue
Things youve said, well maybe theyre true
Im getting funny dreams again and again
I know what it means but
Cant explain, I think its love
Try to say it to you when I feel blue
But I cant explain (cant explain)
Just hear what Im saying baby (cant explain)
Dizzy in the head and Im feeling bad
Things youve said got me real mad
Im getting funny dreams again and again
I know what it means but
Cant explain, I think its love
Try to say it to you when I feel blue
But I cant explain (cant explain)
Just hear me one more time baby (cant explain)
Dizzy in the head and Im feeling bad
Things youve said got me real mad
Im getting funny dreams again and again
I know what it means but
Cant explain, I think its love
Try to say it to you when I feel blue
But I cant explain (cant explain)
Just hear me one more time baby (cant explain)
She drive me out of my mind (cant explain)
She drive me out of my mind (cant explain)
You drive me out of my my my my my my my mind (cant explain)
You drive me out of my mind (cant explain)
You drive me out of my mind (cant explain)
Oooh yeah, I cant explain...
I cant explain baby!
song performed by Scorpions
Added by Lucian Velea
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Primitive
Primitive feeling, primitive way
Getting closer to the primitive day
Intuition wherever it goes
The primitive day, the primitive way
Primitive feeling, primitive way
Getting closer to the primitive day
Follow the feeling wherever it goes
The primitive day, the primitive way
song performed by Helmet
Added by Lucian Velea
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Primitive
My heart keeps beating me to death
I see you move and I can't catch my breath
I want to touch you with my lips
I want to touch you with a kiss
My heart keeps pounding like a fist
I see you there and I just can't resist
You make me tremble like this
You make me tremble like a jellyfish
It's primitive
You got me
Oh
It's primitive
You make me feel
Primitive
When you lock me in your arms
You chain me to your heart
...Oh
I hear you calling out my name
And when you talk your words they numb my brain
You make this fire in me start
I want to touch you with my heart
I hear you whisper in the dark
And when you touch me I just come apart
I feel the fever in your hands
We feel things we don't even understand
It's primitive
You got me
Oh
It's primitive
You make me feel
Primitive
When you lock me in your arms
You chain me to your heart
...Oh
It's animal
Like the moon pulls at the tide
I'm at your side
The world in which we live
It's primitive
You got me
Oh
It's primitive
You make me real
[...] Read more
song performed by Cyndi Lauper from A Night To Remember
Added by Lucian Velea
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Upon the lap of Nature
A lonesome bird
A whispering wind
A solitary cloud,
Nature is a singular scene.
A running brook
Gushing falls
Breathing woods,
Nature is a singular voice.
Endless meads
Dancing shades
A grazing cow
Nature is a singular vision.
A ploughman’s call
A melodious song
A barking dog,
Nature is a singular pulse.
A twinkling star
A silent night
A burning candle,
Nature is a singular moment.
A blossoming bud
A blissful moment
A graceful heart,
Nature is a singular mould.
A different season
A different mood
A changing hue
Nature is a singular feel.
Nature’s themes are endless,
Variety simply countless
Yet, the impact is singular,
Thy pulses are thine alone.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
What is actually this Nature? Nature is our own living core. When we are on the lap of Nature, we are within our reflections. We are born out of this Nature and finally return to her elements. We owe our bodily and mental existence to these gross and subtle elements of nature. We are in eternal communion with her either consciously or unconsciously. Our core is peace and solitude. The rest is all a forced mask. This is why we turn to Nature now and then for an all round refreshment. A twinkling star, a flying bird, a passing wind, a running brook, a falling leaf, a burning candle, a silent night, a sailing cloud, a grazing cow… these present moments of glory in our life. They all represent the philosophy of our life. They boost our mental battery because on the lap of Nature, our thoughts gradually disappear and we become contemplative and meditative. Everybody needs this tonic. Nature is a beautiful lass. Nature is a good philosopher too. Let us open our eyes and ears and be ready for a floating experience!
poem by Ravi Panamanna
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I Cant Explain
Got a feeling inside (cant explain)
Its a certain kind (cant explain)
I feel hot and cold (cant explain)
Yeah, down in my soul, yeah (cant explain)
I said ... (cant explain)
Im feeling good now, yeah, but (cant explain)
Dizzy in the head and Im feeling blue
The things youve said, well, maybe theyre true
Im gettin funny dreams again and again
I know what it means, but
Cant explain
I think its love
Try to say it to you
When I feel blue
But I cant explain (cant explain)
Yeah, hear what Im saying, girl (cant explain)
Dizzy in the head and Im feeling bad
The things youve said have got me real mad
Im gettin funny dreams again and again
I know what it means but
Cant explain
I think its love
Try to say it to you
When I feel blue
But I cant explain (cant explain)
Forgive me one more time, now (cant explain)
I said I cant explain, yeah
You drive me our ot my mind
Yeah, Im the worrying kind, babe
I said I cant explain
song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Can't Explain
Got a feeling inside
Can't explain
It's a certain kind
Can't explain
I feel hot and cold
Can't explain
Way down in my soul, yeah
Can't explain
I said
Can't explain
I'm feelin' good now yeah but
Can't explain
Dizzy in the head and I'm feelin' blue
The things you've said well maybe they're true
I'm gettin' funny dreams again and again
I know what it means but
Can't explain
Think it's love
Try to say it to you
When I feel blue
But I can't explain
Can't explain
Yeah hear what I'm sayin' girl
Can't explain
Dizzy in the head and I'm feelin' mad
The things you've said have got me real mad
I'm gettin' funny dreams again and again
I know what it means but
Can't explain
Think it's love
Try to say it to you
When I feel blue
But I can't explain
Can't explain
Forgive me one more time now
Can't explain
I said I can't explain, yeah
You drive me out of my mind
Yeah I'm the worrying kind, babe
I said I can't explain
song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Double Ballade Of Primitive Man
He lived in a cave by the seas,
He lived upon oysters and foes,
But his list of forbidden degrees,
An extensive morality shows;
Geological evidence goes
To prove he had never a pan,
But he shaved with a shell when he chose, -
'Twas the manner of Primitive Man.
He worshipp'd the rain and the breeze,
He worshipp'd the river that flows,
And the Dawn, and the Moon, and the trees,
And bogies, and serpents, and crows;
He buried his dead with their toes
Tucked-up, an original plan,
Till their knees came right under their nose, -
'Twas the manner of Primitive Man.
His communal wives, at his ease,
He would curb with occasional blows;
Or his State had a queen, like the bees
(As another philosopher trows):
When he spoke, it was never in prose,
But he sang in a strain that would scan,
For (to doubt it, perchance, were morose)
'Twas the manner of Primitive Man!
On the coasts that incessantly freeze,
With his stones, and his bones, and his bows;
On luxuriant tropical leas,
Where the summer eternally glows,
He is found, and his habits disclose
(Let theology say what she can)
That he lived in the long, long agos,
'Twas the manner of Primitive Man!
From a status like that of the Crees,
Our society's fabric arose, -
Develop'd, evolved, if you please,
But deluded chronologists chose,
In a fancied accordance with Mos
es, 4000 B. C. for the span
When he rushed on the world and its woes, -
'Twas the manner of Primitive Man!
But the mild anthropologist,--HE'S
Not RECENT inclined to suppose
Flints Palaeolithic like these,
Quaternary bones such as those!
In Rhinoceros, Mammoth and Co.'s,
[...] Read more
poem by Andrew Lang
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Mother, Father
Mother, father please explain to me
Why a world so full of mystery
A place so bitter and still so sweet
So beautiful and yet so full of sad, sad...
Mother, father please explain to me
Why forests march to desert speed
While snowcapped mountains melt away
What do we tell our babies, when do we say, oh
Mother, father please explain to me
How a man who rocks his child to sleep
Pulls the trigger on his brothers heart
He digs a hole right to the middle of this storm of hatred
Mother, father please explain to me
How it could be so this world has come to be
A precious balance in between
Such cruelty and such kindness please
Mother, father please explain to me
How this world has come to be
Unequaled in her blessings, oh, I see
Unbridled hatred so extreme, please tell me
Mother, father please explain to me
How this world has come to be so
Twisted between time and dreams
Oh, mother, father please explain to me
Oh, whats all this talk about?
All this talk about it
Spinning down, down, down, down, down
All this talk about
Endless words without
Nothings done
Mother, father do you know
Why one mans belly overflows
Another sleeps in hungers bed
Oh, we trade our world for a piece of bread
Oh mother, father please explain to me
How this rare worlds come to be
A place so full of color yet overflowing
Always in black and white
Drowning in the waters of our...
Mother, father please explain to me
How this world has come to be
While still blessed in all the things we see
Such a sad, sad home for you and me
Come out, and hold,
Come on out you
Come on out you
Come and save yourself
Come on out you
Come on were taking the water
Were taken the water
[...] Read more
song performed by Dave Matthews Band
Added by Lucian Velea
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Into You
Babygirl (Ill really like)
Desert storm (yeah)
I cant really explain it
Im so into you now
I wanna be more than a friend to you now
When they ask, I mention my babygirl in the interviews now
And I dont bring the problems from the 90s and the 2 thou
Theres no reason to have a friend or two now
Cuz the kids ready to tell you how he feel and a few vows
Maybe I speak in general now
But girl, imma do whatever just to keep a grin on u now
Where I roll, they wear bikinis in the winter too now
What you think about tan lines on the skin of you now?
Why wouldnt I wanna spend a few thou
On fifth ave, shopping sprees and them dinners to chow
I aint concerned with other men with you now
As long as when I slide up in you, you growl
And any dude with you, he better be a king to you now
And I aint jealous, its the principle now
Im so into you
I really like what youve done to me
I cant really explain it
Im so into you
I really like what youve done to me
I cant really explain it
Im so into you
Come on ma
Its more than a flashing
I woulda traded it all in orderly fashion
My billa in florida we crashing
Just off the shore so you can hear when the water be splashing
The drop top 3 in the quota we dashing
Flawless diamonds in the water we flashing
The money we oughta be stashing
I make sure ever quarter be cashed in
I cant really explain it
My friends be thinking Im slipping
These girls be thinking Im tripping
What kinda weed u be smoking
What typa drinks u be sipping
Sweet thing just to think of you dipping
Would have me with the blue so hard
You would think I was crimping
Now you relaxing in the benz
Credit cards are no limits
So u dont worry about maxing when u spends
But since u been asking about the friends
Howd u like it if both our names had jackson on the ends
I really like what youve done to me
I cant really explain it
[...] Read more
song performed by Fabolous
Added by Lucian Velea
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Berenice by edgar allan poe
MISERY is manifold. The wretchedness of earth is multiform. Overreaching the wide horizon as the rainbow, its hues are as various as the hues of that arch, -as distinct too, yet as intimately blended. Overreaching the wide horizon as the rainbow! How is it that from beauty I have derived a type of unloveliness? -from the covenant of peace a simile of sorrow? But as, in ethics, evil is a consequence of good, so, in fact, out of joy is sorrow born. Either the memory of past bliss is the anguish of to-day, or the agonies which are have their origin in the ecstasies which might have been.
My baptismal name is Egaeus; that of my family I will not mention. Yet there are no towers in the land more time-honored than my gloomy, gray, hereditary halls. Our line has been called a race of visionaries; and in many striking particulars -in the character of the family mansion -in the frescos of the chief saloon -in the tapestries of the dormitories -in the chiselling of some buttresses in the armory -but more especially in the gallery of antique paintings -in the fashion of the library chamber -and, lastly, in the very peculiar nature of the library's contents, there is more than sufficient evidence to warrant the belief.
The recollections of my earliest years are connected with that chamber, and with its volumes -of which latter I will say no more. Here died my mother. Herein was I born. But it is mere idleness to say that I had not lived before -that the soul has no previous existence. You deny it? -let us not argue the matter. Convinced myself, I seek not to convince. There is, however, a remembrance of aerial forms -of spiritual and meaning eyes -of sounds, musical yet sad -a remembrance which will not be excluded; a memory like a shadow, vague, variable, indefinite, unsteady; and like a shadow, too, in the impossibility of my getting rid of it while the sunlight of my reason shall exist.
In that chamber was I born. Thus awaking from the long night of what seemed, but was not, nonentity, at once into the very regions of fairy-land -into a palace of imagination -into the wild dominions of monastic thought and erudition -it is not singular that I gazed around me with a startled and ardent eye -that I loitered away my boyhood in books, and dissipated my youth in reverie; but it is singular that as years rolled away, and the noon of manhood found me still in the mansion of my fathers -it is wonderful what stagnation there fell upon the springs of my life -wonderful how total an inversion took place in the character of my commonest thought. The realities of the world affected me as visions, and as visions only, while the wild ideas of the land of dreams became, in turn, -not the material of my every-day existence-but in very deed that existence utterly and solely in itself.
Berenice and I were cousins, and we grew up together in my paternal halls. Yet differently we grew -I ill of health, and buried in gloom -she agile, graceful, and overflowing with energy; hers the ramble on the hill-side -mine the studies of the cloister -I living within my own heart, and addicted body and soul to the most intense and painful meditation -she roaming carelessly through life with no thought of the shadows in her path, or the silent flight of the raven-winged hours. Berenice! -I call upon her name -Berenice! -and from the gray ruins of memory a thousand tumultuous recollections are startled at the sound! Ah! vividly is her image before me now, as in the early days of her light-heartedness and joy! Oh! gorgeous yet fantastic beauty! Oh! sylph amid the shrubberies of Arnheim! -Oh! Naiad among its fountains! -and then -then all is mystery and terror, and a tale which should not be told. Disease -a fatal disease -fell like the simoom upon her frame, and, even while I gazed upon her, the spirit of change swept, over her, pervading her mind, her habits, and her character, and, in a manner the most subtle and terrible, disturbing even the identity of her person! Alas! the destroyer came and went, and the victim -where was she, I knew her not -or knew her no longer as Berenice.
Among the numerous train of maladies superinduced by that fatal and primary one which effected a revolution of so horrible a kind in the moral and physical being of my cousin, may be mentioned as the most distressing and obstinate in its nature, a species of epilepsy not unfrequently terminating in trance itself -trance very nearly resembling positive dissolution, and from which her manner of recovery was in most instances, startlingly abrupt. In the mean time my own disease -for I have been told that I should call it by no other appelation -my own disease, then, grew rapidly upon me, and assumed finally a monomaniac character of a novel and extraordinary form -hourly and momently gaining vigor -and at length obtaining over me the most incomprehensible ascendancy. This monomania, if I must so term it, consisted in a morbid irritability of those properties of the mind in metaphysical science termed the attentive. It is more than probable that I am not understood; but I fear, indeed, that it is in no manner possible to convey to the mind of the merely general reader, an adequate idea of that nervous intensity of interest with which, in my case, the powers of meditation (not to speak technically) busied and buried themselves, in the contemplation of even the most ordinary objects of the universe.
To muse for long unwearied hours with my attention riveted to some frivolous device on the margin, or in the topography of a book; to become absorbed for the better part of a summer's day, in a quaint shadow falling aslant upon the tapestry, or upon the door; to lose myself for an entire night in watching the steady flame of a lamp, or the embers of a fire; to dream away whole days over the perfume of a flower; to repeat monotonously some common word, until the sound, by dint of frequent repetition, ceased to convey any idea whatever to the mind; to lose all sense of motion or physical existence, by means of absolute bodily quiescence long and obstinately persevered in; -such were a few of the most common and least pernicious vagaries induced by a condition of the mental faculties, not, indeed, altogether unparalleled, but certainly bidding defiance to anything like analysis or explanation.
Yet let me not be misapprehended. -The undue, earnest, and morbid attention thus excited by objects in their own nature frivolous, must not be confounded in character with that ruminating propensity common to all mankind, and more especially indulged in by persons of ardent imagination. It was not even, as might be at first supposed, an extreme condition or exaggeration of such propensity, but primarily and essentially distinct and different. In the one instance, the dreamer, or enthusiast, being interested by an object usually not frivolous, imperceptibly loses sight of this object in a wilderness of deductions and suggestions issuing therefrom, until, at the conclusion of a day dream often replete with luxury, he finds the incitamentum or first cause of his musings entirely vanished and forgotten. In my case the primary object was invariably frivolous, although assuming, through the medium of my distempered vision, a refracted and unreal importance. Few deductions, if any, were made; and those few pertinaciously returning in upon the original object as a centre. The meditations were never pleasurable; and, at the termination of the reverie, the first cause, so far from being out of sight, had attained that supernaturally exaggerated interest which was the prevailing feature of the disease. In a word, the powers of mind more particularly exercised were, with me, as I have said before, the attentive, and are, with the day-dreamer, the speculative.
My books, at this epoch, if they did not actually serve to irritate the disorder, partook, it will be perceived, largely, in their imaginative and inconsequential nature, of the characteristic qualities of the disorder itself. I well remember, among others, the treatise of the noble Italian Coelius Secundus Curio 'de Amplitudine Beati Regni dei'; St. Austin's great work, the 'City of God'; and Tertullian 'de Carne Christi, ' in which the paradoxical sentence 'Mortuus est Dei filius; credible est quia ineptum est: et sepultus resurrexit; certum est quia impossibile est' occupied my undivided time, for many weeks of laborious and fruitless investigation.
Thus it will appear that, shaken from its balance only by trivial things, my reason bore resemblance to that ocean-crag spoken of by Ptolemy Hephestion, which steadily resisting the attacks of human violence, and the fiercer fury of the waters and the winds, trembled only to the touch of the flower called Asphodel. And although, to a careless thinker, it might appear a matter beyond doubt, that the alteration produced by her unhappy malady, in the moral condition of Berenice, would afford me many objects for the exercise of that intense and abnormal meditation whose nature I have been at some trouble in explaining, yet such was not in any degree the case. In the lucid intervals of my infirmity, her calamity, indeed, gave me pain, and, taking deeply to heart that total wreck of her fair and gentle life, I did not fall to ponder frequently and bitterly upon the wonder-working means by which so strange a revolution had been so suddenly brought to pass. But these reflections partook not of the idiosyncrasy of my disease, and were such as would have occurred, under similar circumstances, to the ordinary mass of mankind. True to its own character, my disorder revelled in the less important but more startling changes wrought in the physical frame of Berenice -in the singular and most appalling distortion of her personal identity.
During the brightest days of her unparalleled beauty, most surely I had never loved her. In the strange anomaly of my existence, feelings with me, had never been of the heart, and my passions always were of the mind. Through the gray of the early morning -among the trellised shadows of the forest at noonday -and in the silence of my library at night, she had flitted by my eyes, and I had seen her -not as the living and breathing Berenice, but as the Berenice of a dream -not as a being of the earth, earthy, but as the abstraction of such a being-not as a thing to admire, but to analyze -not as an object of love, but as the theme of the most abstruse although desultory speculation. And now -now I shuddered in her presence, and grew pale at her approach; yet bitterly lamenting her fallen and desolate condition, I called to mind that she had loved me long, and, in an evil moment, I spoke to her of marriage.
And at length the period of our nuptials was approaching, when, upon an afternoon in the winter of the year, -one of those unseasonably warm, calm, and misty days which are the nurse of the beautiful Halcyon*, -I sat, (and sat, as I thought, alone,) in the inner apartment of the library. But uplifting my eyes I saw that Berenice stood before me.
*For as Jove, during the winter season, gives twice seven days of warmth, men have called this clement and temperate time the nurse of the beautiful Halcyon -Simonides.
Was it my own excited imagination -or the misty influence of the atmosphere -or the uncertain twilight of the chamber -or the gray draperies which fell around her figure -that caused in it so vacillating and indistinct an outline? I could not tell. She spoke no word, I -not for worlds could I have uttered a syllable. An icy chill ran through my frame; a sense of insufferable anxiety oppressed me; a consuming curiosity pervaded my soul; and sinking back upon the chair, I remained for some time breathless and motionless, with my eyes riveted upon her person. Alas! its emaciation was excessive, and not one vestige of the former being, lurked in any single line of the contour. My burning glances at length fell upon the face.
The forehead was high, and very pale, and singularly placid; and the once jetty hair fell partially over it, and overshadowed the hollow temples with innumerable ringlets now of a vivid yellow, and Jarring discordantly, in their fantastic character, with the reigning melancholy of the countenance. The eyes were lifeless, and lustreless, and seemingly pupil-less, and I shrank involuntarily from their glassy stare to the contemplation of the thin and shrunken lips. They parted; and in a smile of peculiar meaning, the teeth of the changed Berenice disclosed themselves slowly to my view. Would to God that I had never beheld them, or that, having done so, I had died!
The shutting of a door disturbed me, and, looking up, I found that my cousin had departed from the chamber. But from the disordered chamber of my brain, had not, alas! departed, and would not be driven away, the white and ghastly spectrum of the teeth. Not a speck on their surface -not a shade on their enamel -not an indenture in their edges -but what that period of her smile had sufficed to brand in upon my memory. I saw them now even more unequivocally than I beheld them then. The teeth! -the teeth! -they were here, and there, and everywhere, and visibly and palpably before me; long, narrow, and excessively white, with the pale lips writhing about them, as in the very moment of their first terrible development. Then came the full fury of my monomania, and I struggled in vain against its strange and irresistible influence. In the multiplied objects of the external world I had no thoughts but for the teeth. For these I longed with a phrenzied desire. All other matters and all different interests became absorbed in their single contemplation. They -they alone were present to the mental eye, and they, in their sole individuality, became the essence of my mental life. I held them in every light. I turned them in every attitude. I surveyed their characteristics. I dwelt upon their peculiarities. I pondered upon their conformation. I mused upon the alteration in their nature. I shuddered as I assigned to them in imagination a sensitive and sentient power, and even when unassisted by the lips, a capability of moral expression. Of Mad'selle Salle it has been well said, 'que tous ses pas etaient des sentiments, ' and of Berenice I more seriously believed que toutes ses dents etaient des idees. Des idees! -ah here was the idiotic thought that destroyed me! Des idees! -ah therefore it was that I coveted them so madly! I felt that their possession could alone ever restore me to peace, in giving me back to reason.
And the evening closed in upon me thus-and then the darkness came, and tarried, and went -and the day again dawned -and the mists of a second night were now gathering around -and still I sat motionless in that solitary room; and still I sat buried in meditation, and still the phantasma of the teeth maintained its terrible ascendancy as, with the most vivid hideous distinctness, it floated about amid the changing lights and shadows of the chamber. At length there broke in upon my dreams a cry as of horror and dismay; and thereunto, after a pause, succeeded the sound of troubled voices, intermingled with many low moanings of sorrow, or of pain. I arose from my seat and, throwing open one of the doors of the library, saw standing out in the antechamber a servant maiden, all in tears, who told me that Berenice was -no more. She had been seized with epilepsy in the early morning, and now, at the closing in of the night, the grave was ready for its tenant, and all the preparations for the burial were completed.
I found myself sitting in the library, and again sitting there alone. It seemed that I had newly awakened from a confused and exciting dream. I knew that it was now midnight, and I was well aware that since the setting of the sun Berenice had been interred. But of that dreary period which intervened I had no positive -at least no definite comprehension. Yet its memory was replete with horror -horror more horrible from being vague, and terror more terrible from ambiguity. It was a fearful page in the record my existence, written all over with dim, and hideous, and unintelligible recollections. I strived to decypher them, but in vain; while ever and anon, like the spirit of a departed sound, the shrill and piercing shriek of a female voice seemed to be ringing in my ears. I had done a deed -what was it? I asked myself the question aloud, and the whispering echoes of the chamber answered me, 'what was it? '
On the table beside me burned a lamp, and near it lay a little box. It was of no remarkable character, and I had seen it frequently before, for it was the property of the family physician; but how came it there, upon my table, and why did I shudder in regarding it? These things were in no manner to be accounted for, and my eyes at length dropped to the open pages of a book, and to a sentence underscored therein. The words were the singular but simple ones of the poet Ebn Zaiat, 'Dicebant mihi sodales si sepulchrum amicae visitarem, curas meas aliquantulum fore levatas.' Why then, as I perused them, did the hairs of my head erect themselves on end, and the blood of my body become congealed within my veins?
There came a light tap at the library door, and pale as the tenant of a tomb, a menial entered upon tiptoe. His looks were wild with terror, and he spoke to me in a voice tremulous, husky, and very low. What said he? -some broken sentences I heard. He told of a wild cry disturbing the silence of the night -of the gathering together of the household-of a search in the direction of the sound; -and then his tones grew thrillingly distinct as he whispered me of a violated grave -of a disfigured body enshrouded, yet still breathing, still palpitating, still alive!
He pointed to garments; -they were muddy and clotted with gore. I spoke not, and he took me gently by the hand; -it was indented with the impress of human nails. He directed my attention to some object against the wall; -I looked at it for some minutes; -it was a spade. With a shriek I bounded to the table, and grasped the box that lay upon it. But I could not force it open; and in my tremor it slipped from my hands, and fell heavily, and burst into pieces; and from it, with a rattling sound, there rolled out some instruments of dental surgery, intermingled with thirty-two small, white and ivory-looking substances that were scattered to and fro about the floor.
poem by Erie Morganmaples
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The virtue is supreme
.Elegance is nice,
But inferior to kindness.
Composure is sweet,
But inferior to compassion.
Charity is great,
But inferior to justice.
Honesty is fine,
But inferior to fidelity.
Intelligence is strength
But inferior to wisdom
Every good trait
Is inferior to virtue,
Which must be the axis,
Around which one runs.
18.05.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The virtue is supreme.
Elegance is nice,
But inferior to kindness.
Composure is sweet,
But inferior to compassion.
Charity is great,
But inferior to justice.
Honesty is fine,
But inferior to fidelity.
Intelligence is strength
But inferior to wisdom
Every good trait
Is inferior to virtue,
Which must be the axis,
Around which one runs.
18.05.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Sugar We're Going Down
Am I more than you bargained for yet
I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear
Cause that's just who I am this week
Lie in the grass, next to the mausoleum
I'm just a notch in your bedpost
But you're just a line in a song
(A notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song)
Drop a heart, break a name
We're always sleeping in, and sleeping for the wrong team
We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
Is this more than you bargained for yet
Oh don't mind me I'm watching you two from the closet
Wishing to be the friction in your jeans
Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be him
I'm just a notch in your bedpost
But you're just a line in a song
(Notch in your bedpost, but you're just a line in a song)
Drop a heart, break a name
We're always sleeping in, and sleeping for the wrong team
We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
[x2]
Down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
We're going down, down (down, down)
Down, down (down, down)
We're going down, down (down, down)
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
We're going down, down in an earlier round
And Sugar, we're going down swinging
I'll be your number one with a bullet
A loaded god complex, cock it and pull it
song performed by Fall Out Boy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Move On
Hey, Shake It, Shake It, Shake It
There's A Monkey On My Back
Been There Much Too Long
Every Time I Kick It Off
Another One Comes Along
I Used To Be In Another World
I Used To Be Alone
It's So Hard To Be Yourself
When You Feel Like Something's Wrong
(chorus)
There Are No Words That Could Explain
You Gotta Move On
The Strongest Love In Vain
There Are No Words That Could Explain
Oh You Gotta Move On
The Strongest Love In Vain
She Said, "I've Had Enough Of Your Lies
Can't Wait For Anyone
The Beginning Of The End
Don't You Know That's All Wrong
When You Said Nothing Changes
You Meant To Say It Won't Take Long"
I Used To Be In Another World
I Used To Be Alone
It's So Hard To Be Yourself
When You Feel Like Something's Wrong
Move On
There Are No Words That Could Explain
You Gotta Move On
The Strongest Love In Vain
There Are No Words That Could Explain
I Said Move, You Gotta Move On
The Strongest Love In Vain
There Are No Words That Could Explain
You Gotta Move On
The Strongest Love In Vain
There Are No Words That Could Explain
Oh You Gotta Move On
The Strongest Love In Vain
Move It
Move On
There's A Question In My Head
Been There All Night Long
Well I Toss And Turn Inside My Head
But I Won't Let It Tear Me Down
Yeah, Used To Be In Another World
I Used To Be Alone, Yeah
There Are No Words That Could Explain
The Strongest Love In Vain
Oh You Gotta Move On
[...] Read more
song performed by INXS
Added by Lucian Velea
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Earth Is...
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
And when it flew through the universe.
It didn't make a sound...
As it moved so quick with speed.
And when it flew through the universe.
It wasn't without those far viewed planets we see.
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
And when it flew through the universe.
It didn't make a sound...
As it moved so quick with speed.
And when it flew through the universe.
It wasn't without those far viewed planets we see.
Earth is...
What's inside you,
And me!
Earth is...
What's inside you,
And me!
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
You've been riding on the back of a flying horse.
And I'll explain that the best way that I can.
Earth is...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Solomon on the Vanity of the World, A Poem. In Three Books. - Knowledge. Book I.
The bewailing of man's miseries hath been elegantly and copiously set forth by many, in the writings as well of philosophers as divines; and it is both a pleasant and a profitable contemplation.
~
Lord Bacon's Advancement of Learning.
The Argument
Solomon, seeking happiness from knowledge, convenes the learned men of his kingdom; requires them to explain to him the various operations and effects of Nature; discourses of vegetables, animals and man; proposes some questions concerning the origin and situation of the habitable earth: proceeds to examine the system of the visible heaven: doubts if there may not be a plurality of worlds; inquires into the nature of spirits and angels, and wishes to be more fully informed as to the attributes of the Supreme Being. He is imperfectly answered by the Rabbins and Doctors; blames his own curiosity: and concludes that, as to human science, All Is Vanity.
Ye sons of men with just regard attend,
Observe the preacher, and believe the friend,
Whose serious muse inspires him to explain
That all we act and all we think is vain:
That in this pilgrimage of seventy years,
O'er rocks of perils and through vales of tears
Destined to march, our doubtful steps we tend,
Tired with the toil, yet fearful of its end:
That from the womb we take our fatal shares
Of follies, passions, labours, tumults, cares;
And at approach of death shall only know
The truths which from these pensive numbers flow,
That we pursue false joy and suffer real wo.
Happiness! object of that waking dream
Which we call life, mistaking; fugitive theme
Of my pursuing verse: ideal shade,
Notional good; by fancy only made,
And by tradition nursed; fallacious fire,
Whose dancing beams mislead our fond desire;
Cause of our care, and error of our mind:
Oh! hadst thou ever been by Heaven design'd
To Adam, and his mortal race, the boon
Entire had been reserved for Solomon;
On me the partial lot had been bestow'd,
And in my cup the golden draught had flow'd.
But, O! ere yet original man was made,
Ere the foundations of this earth were laid,
It was opponent to our search ordain'd,
That joy still sought should never be attain'd:
This sad experience cites me to reveal,
And what I dictate is from what I feel.
Born, as I as, great David's favourite son,
Dear to my people on the Hebrew throne,
Sublime my court, with Ophir's treasures bless'd.
My name extended to the farthest east,
My body clothed with every outward grace,
Strength in my limbs, and beauty in my face,
[...] Read more
poem by Matthew Prior
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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 12
WHEN Turnus saw the Latins leave the field,
Their armies broken, and their courage quell’d,
Himself become the mark of public spite,
His honor question’d for the promis’d fight;
The more he was with vulgar hate oppress’d, 5
The more his fury boil’d within his breast:
He rous’d his vigor for the last debate,
And rais’d his haughty soul to meet his fate.
As, when the swains the Libyan lion chase,
He makes a sour retreat, nor mends his pace; 10
But, if the pointed jav’lin pierce his side,
The lordly beast returns with double pride:
He wrenches out the steel, he roars for pain;
His sides he lashes, and erects his mane:
So Turnus fares; his eyeballs flash with fire, 15
Thro’ his wide nostrils clouds of smoke expire.
Trembling with rage, around the court he ran,
At length approach’d the king, and thus began:
“No more excuses or delays: I stand
In arms prepar’d to combat, hand to hand, 20
This base deserter of his native land.
The Trojan, by his word, is bound to take
The same conditions which himself did make.
Renew the truce; the solemn rites prepare,
And to my single virtue trust the war. 25
The Latians unconcern’d shall see the fight;
This arm unaided shall assert your right:
Then, if my prostrate body press the plain,
To him the crown and beauteous bride remain.”
To whom the king sedately thus replied: 30
“Brave youth, the more your valor has been tried,
The more becomes it us, with due respect,
To weigh the chance of war, which you neglect.
You want not wealth, or a successive throne,
Or cities which your arms have made your own: 35
My towns and treasures are at your command,
And stor’d with blooming beauties is my land;
Laurentum more than one Lavinia sees,
Unmarried, fair, of noble families.
Now let me speak, and you with patience hear, 40
Things which perhaps may grate a lover’s ear,
But sound advice, proceeding from a heart
Sincerely yours, and free from fraudful art.
The gods, by signs, have manifestly shown,
No prince Italian born should heir my throne: 45
Oft have our augurs, in prediction skill’d,
And oft our priests, a foreign son reveal’d.
Yet, won by worth that cannot be withstood,
Brib’d by my kindness to my kindred blood,
Urg’d by my wife, who would not be denied, 50
[...] Read more
poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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Hellfire & Reuben Rose
A hundred and thirty years has passed
Since Reuben strode our turf,
A Hell-fire Methodist Preacher
Cursing souls with every breath,
He claimed an exclusive license, sanctioned
By our gracious Lord,
To dispense both sulphur and brimstone
To the sinners of the world.
At Moonta, in the mining days,
When copper ruled as king,
A fluctuation in the price
Soon ruined everything.
Families left in droves; for jobs
Were harder then to find,
The congregations withered,
They were the few that stayed behind.
There wasn't enough to pay the fund
To keep their minister,
So he took off to Castlemaine
To save Victoria,
And when the Primitive Methodists
Declined to send another,
All Hell broke loose at the altar then,
Set brother against brother.
Enraged at the Executive
For showing them such contempt,
Half of the congregation said:
'We'll fix their argument!
We'll just secede from the Primitives
And run our own affairs.'
But Reuben Rose was a Primitive,
Who had his own ideas.
'Who owns the Church, ' he sagely said,
'The age-old Primitives! '
'Not so, ' declared the rebels, then,
'We paid for it with our tithes! '
But neither side would give an inch,
They claimed it, theirs alone,
Two armies of the Lord lined up
To seize the good lord's throne.
And so it was that, Sunday noon,
The rebels got there first,
They sang a lot of Sankey's hymns
To scorn the Primitive's verse,
They raised their voices mightily
[...] Read more
poem by David Lewis Paget
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