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At Any Price [Henry Whipple's Son]

Cast: Heather Graham, Zac Efron, Meighan Gerachis, Maika Monroe

clip from At Any Price, directed by Ramin Bahrani (2012)
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The Victories Of Love. Book II

I
From Jane To Her Mother

Thank Heaven, the burthens on the heart
Are not half known till they depart!
Although I long'd, for many a year,
To love with love that casts out fear,
My Frederick's kindness frighten'd me,
And heaven seem'd less far off than he;
And in my fancy I would trace
A lady with an angel's face,
That made devotion simply debt,
Till sick with envy and regret,
And wicked grief that God should e'er
Make women, and not make them fair.
That he might love me more because
Another in his memory was,
And that my indigence might be
To him what Baby's was to me,
The chief of charms, who could have thought?
But God's wise way is to give nought
Till we with asking it are tired;
And when, indeed, the change desired
Comes, lest we give ourselves the praise,
It comes by Providence, not Grace;
And mostly our thanks for granted pray'rs
Are groans at unexpected cares.
First Baby went to heaven, you know,
And, five weeks after, Grace went, too.
Then he became more talkative,
And, stooping to my heart, would give
Signs of his love, which pleased me more
Than all the proofs he gave before;
And, in that time of our great grief,
We talk'd religion for relief;
For, though we very seldom name
Religion, we now think the same!
Oh, what a bar is thus removed
To loving and to being loved!
For no agreement really is
In anything when none's in this.
Why, Mother, once, if Frederick press'd
His wife against his hearty breast,
The interior difference seem'd to tear
My own, until I could not bear
The trouble. 'Twas a dreadful strife,
And show'd, indeed, that faith is life.
He never felt this. If he did,
I'm sure it could not have been hid;
For wives, I need not say to you,

[...] Read more

poem by Coventry Patmore
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No Thugs In Our House

Cast of characters
Graham, a teenager
Mother, a busy housewife
Father, a conservative husband
Policeman, a young constable
Scene: a kitchen in suburbia, one bright saturday morning
Act one
Narrator: the insect-headed worker-wife will hang her waspies on the
Line. her husband burns his paper, sucks his pipe while studying
Their cushion-floor, his viscous poly-paste breath comes out. their
Wall-paper world is shattered by his shout. a boy in blue is busy
Banging out a headache on the kitchen door. all the while graham
Slept on, dreaming of a world where he could do just what he wanted
To.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Act two
Narrator: the young policeman who just can't grow a moustache will
Open up his book, and spoil their breakfast with reports of asians who
Have been so badly kicked.
Policeman: is this your son's wallet i've got here? he must have
Dropped it after too much beer!
Mother: oh, officer, we can't believe our little angel is the one
You've picked.
Narrator: and all the while graham slept on, dreaming of a world
Where he could do just what he wanted to.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Narrator: they never read those pamphlets in his bottom drawer.
Policeman: they never read that tattoo on his arm.
Narrator: they thought that was just a boys club badge he wore.
Policeman: they never thought he'd do folks any harm.
Act three
Narrator: the insect-headed worker-wife will hang her waspies on the
Line. she's singing something stale and simple now this business has
Fizzled out. her little tune is such a happy song. her son is
Innocent, he can't do wrong, 'cos dad's a judge and knows exactly what
The job of judging's all about. and all the while graham slept on,
Dreaming of a world where he could do just what he wanted to.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Mother: no thugs in our house!
Father: no thugs in our house!
Complete cast (in unison): no thugs in our house, dear!

[...] Read more

song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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No Thugs In Our House

Cast of characters
Graham, a teenager
Mother, a busy housewife
Father, a conservative husband
Policeman, a young constable
Scene: a kitchen in suburbia, one bright saturday morning
Act one
Narrator: the insect-headed worker-wife will hang her waspies on the
Line. her husband burns his paper, sucks his pipe while studying
Their cushion-floor, his viscous poly-paste breath comes out. their
Wall-paper world is shattered by his shout. a boy in blue is busy
Banging out a headache on the kitchen door. all the while graham
Slept on, dreaming of a world where he could do just what he wanted
To.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Act two
Narrator: the young policeman who just can't grow a moustache will
Open up his book, and spoil their breakfast with reports of asians who
Have been so badly kicked.
Policeman: is this your son's wallet i've got here? he must have
Dropped it after too much beer!
Mother: oh, officer, we can't believe our little angel is the one
You've picked.
Narrator: and all the while graham slept on, dreaming of a world
Where he could do just what he wanted to.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Narrator: they never read those pamphlets in his bottom drawer.
Policeman: they never read that tattoo on his arm.
Narrator: they thought that was just a boys club badge he wore.
Policeman: they never thought he'd do folks any harm.
Act three
Narrator: the insect-headed worker-wife will hang her waspies on the
Line. she's singing something stale and simple now this business has
Fizzled out. her little tune is such a happy song. her son is
Innocent, he can't do wrong, 'cos dad's a judge and knows exactly what
The job of judging's all about. and all the while graham slept on,
Dreaming of a world where he could do just what he wanted to.
Mother and father (in unison): no thugs in our house, are there dear?
We made that clear, we made little graham promise us he'd be a good
Boy. no thugs in our house, are there dear? we made that clear, we
Made little graham promise us he'd be a good boy.
Mother: no thugs in our house!
Father: no thugs in our house!
Complete cast (in unison): no thugs in our house, dear!

[...] Read more

song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Hare And The Fox

The fox lay still by the birch-tree's root
In the heather.
The hare was running with nimble foot
O'er the heather.
Was ever brighter a sunshine-day,
Before, behind me, and every way,
O'er the heather!

The fox laughed low by the birch-tree's root
In the heather.
The hare was running with daring foot
O'er the heather.

I am so happy for everything!
Hallo! Why go you with mighty spring
O'er the heather?

The fox lay hid by the birch-tree's root
In the heather.
The hare dashed to him with reckless foot
O'er the heather.
May God have mercy, but this is queer! --
Good gracious, how dare you dance so here
O'er the heather?

poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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At Any Price

Cast: Zac Efron, Heather Graham, Dennis Quaid, Clancy Brown, Kim Dickens, Chelcie Ross, Maika Monroe, Red West

trailer for At Any Price, directed by Ramin Bahrani, screenplay by Ramin Bahrani (2012)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Heather Ale: A Galloway Legend

From the bonny bells of heather
They brewed a drink long-syne,
Was sweeter far than honey,
Was stronger far than wine.
They brewed it and they drank it,
And lay in a blessed swound
For days and days together
In their dwellings underground.

There rose a king in Scotland,
A fell man to his foes,
He smote the Picts in battle,
He hunted them like roes.
Over miles of the red mountain
He hunted as they fled,
And strewed the dwarfish bodies
Of the dying and the dead.

Summer came in the country,
Red was the heather bell;
But the manner of the brewing
Was none alive to tell.
In graves that were like children’s
On many a mountain head,
The Brewsters of the Heather
Lay numbered with the dead.

The king in the red moorland
Rode on a summer’s day;
And the bees hummed, and the curlews
Cried beside the way.
The king rode, and was angry;
Black was his brow and pale,
To rule in a land of heather
And lack the Heather Ale.

It fortuned that his vassals,
Riding free on the heath,
Came on a stone that was fallen
And vermin hid beneath.
Rudely plucked from their hiding,
Never a word they spoke:
A son and his aged father—
Last of the dwarfish folk.

The king sat high on his charger,
He looked on the little men;
And the dwarfish and swarthy couple
Looked at the king again.
Down by the shore he had them;

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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The Victories Of Love. Book I

I
From Frederick Graham

Mother, I smile at your alarms!
I own, indeed, my Cousin's charms,
But, like all nursery maladies,
Love is not badly taken twice.
Have you forgotten Charlotte Hayes,
My playmate in the pleasant days
At Knatchley, and her sister, Anne,
The twins, so made on the same plan,
That one wore blue, the other white,
To mark them to their father's sight;
And how, at Knatchley harvesting,
You bade me kiss her in the ring,
Like Anne and all the others? You,
That never of my sickness knew,
Will laugh, yet had I the disease,
And gravely, if the signs are these:

As, ere the Spring has any power,
The almond branch all turns to flower,
Though not a leaf is out, so she
The bloom of life provoked in me;
And, hard till then and selfish, I
Was thenceforth nought but sanctity
And service: life was mere delight
In being wholly good and right,
As she was; just, without a slur;
Honouring myself no less than her;
Obeying, in the loneliest place,
Ev'n to the slightest gesture, grace
Assured that one so fair, so true,
He only served that was so too.
For me, hence weak towards the weak,
No more the unnested blackbird's shriek
Startled the light-leaved wood; on high
Wander'd the gadding butterfly,
Unscared by my flung cap; the bee,
Rifling the hollyhock in glee,
Was no more trapp'd with his own flower,
And for his honey slain. Her power,
From great things even to the grass
Through which the unfenced footways pass,
Was law, and that which keeps the law,
Cherubic gaiety and awe;
Day was her doing, and the lark
Had reason for his song; the dark
In anagram innumerous spelt
Her name with stars that throbb'd and felt;

[...] Read more

poem by Coventry Patmore
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Heather

A simple pulse, just one breathe
To my heart's delight, the name Heather
Solaces sorrow, on the precipice of death
Her name as fragile as a dove's feather
It possesses' a taste of heaven's solemnity sweet
When it's heard, an angel I hear; then an angel I meet.
Heather, Heather, Heather
On her feather I aspire to love's aesthetic
So heavenly thy sound, a voice prophetic
Says this is what Heaven's token can be;
A heavenly name Heather beautiful like she
So with her feather I brush
My tender melancholic cheek
A cherry burst I blush
And my soul weak..
Hearing thy name of the heaven's feather, solemnly sweet, the lovely Heather.

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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A Few Blocks Away From Thirty-Five

Your name must be Heather?
Because your face,
Seems locked into a jeer.
As if bad weather...
Has left you more than moised.

Your name must be Heather?
You must have been expecting someone,
Dressed in leather?
Or silk...
With a smooth grin.

Your name must be Heather,
The one who claims to have matched my profile...
With an unleashing of my wildest dreams.
But Heather?
You are a few years older than nineteen.
And it has been a long time,
Since I was a rich man at thirty-two!
That was thirty-one years ago, Heather.
And I am sure back then,
You were all of twenty-two.

Your name must be Heather?
Because your face,
Seems locked into a jeer.
As if bad weather...
Has left you more than moised.
You can unthaw in here.

You don't have to look as if you are shocked!
Yes,
You are correct.
This 'is' my natural voice.
And I am a few blocks away from thirty-five.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sitting Bull - Parody Harry Graham - Ruthless Rhymes

Sitting Bull - Parody Harry Graham - Ruthless Rhymes

Sitting Bull

Squire Squint, aiming at a pheasant,
maimed instead a stting bull,
turned tail, - but ‘tis the bull at present
frames the ears, keeps leg to pull!

1 August 1991,21 July 2006 Parody Harry GRAHAM Ruthless Rhymes

Sitting Duck

Squire Squint, banging at a pheasant,
pranged, instead, a sitting duck, -
Said he, “It is a bit unpleasant
for hitting peasant to come unstuck ! ”

1 August 1991,21 July 2006 Parody Harry GRAHAM Ruthless Rhymes

Laying Back

Squire Squint, swatting a mosquito,
missed the pest but slipped a disc, -
discomfort followed and a veto
from Doctor Best for reckless risk.

21 July 2006 Parody Harry GRAHAM Ruthless Rhymes

Ruthless Rhymes

Père repère quelques cris
de ses très chers, - frères ennemis,
Il noie les trois, ensuite il dit: -
‘Vus, pas sentis, - pauvres chéris! ’

17 August 1977

Ruthless Rhymes

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Purple Heather

(Intro not in English)
Oh the summer time is gone
And the leaves are sweetly turning
And the wild mountain thyme
Blooms across the purple heather
Will you go, lassie. go
If you will not go with me
I will never find another
To pick wild mountain thyme
All along the purple heather
Will you go, lassie, go
Lassie, go
I will build my love a tower
by the cool crystal waters
And I'll cling to her forever
Like the ivy to the heather
Will you go, lassie, go
*And we'll go together
To pick wild mountain thyme
All along the purple heather
Will you go, lassie, go
Lassie, go
(Not in English)
Will you go, lassie, go
(*Repeat)
And we'll all go together
Tp pull wild mountain thyme
All across the purple heather
Will you go, lassie, go
Lassie, go
Lassie, go

song performed by Rod Stewart
Added by Lucian Velea
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Laying Back - Parody Harry Graham - Ruthless Rhymes

Laying Back

Squire Squint, swatting a mosquito,
missed the pest but slipped a disc, -
discomfort followed and a veto
from Doctor Best for reckless risk.

21 July 2006 Parody Harry GRAHAM Ruthless Rhymes

Sitting Duck

Squire Squint, banging at a pheasant,
pranged, instead, a sitting duck, -
Said he, “It is a bit unpleasant
for hitting peasant to come unstuck ! ”

1 August 1991,21 July 2006 Parody Harry GRAHAM Ruthless Rhymes

Sitting Bull

Squire Squint, aiming at a pheasant,
maimed instead a stting bull,
turned tail, - but ‘tis the bull at present
frames the ears, keeps leg to pull!

1 August 1991,21 July 2006 Parody Harry GRAHAM Ruthless Rhymes

Ruthless Rhymes

Père repère quelques cris
de ses très chers, - frères ennemis,
Il noie les trois, ensuite il dit: -
‘Vus, pas sentis, - pauvres chéris! ’

17 August 1977

Ruthless Rhymes

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Sitting Duck - Parody Harry Graham - Ruthless Rhymes

Sitting Duck

Squire Squint, banging at a pheasant,
pranged, instead, a sitting duck, -
Said he, “It is a bit unpleasant
for hitting peasant to come unstuck ! ”

1 August 1991,21 July 2006 Parody Harry GRAHAM Ruthless Rhymes

Sitting Bull

Squire Squint, aiming at a pheasant,
maimed instead a stting bull,
turned tail, - but ‘tis the bull at present
frames the ears, keeps leg to pull!

1 August 1991,21 July 2006 Parody Harry GRAHAM Ruthless Rhymes

Laying Back

Squire Squint, swatting a mosquito,
missed the pest but slipped a disc, -
discomfort followed and a veto
from Doctor Best for reckless risk.

21 July 2006 Parody Harry GRAHAM Ruthless Rhymes

Ruthless Rhymes

Père repère quelques cris
de ses très chers, - frères ennemis,
Il noie les trois, ensuite il dit: -
‘Vus, pas sentis, - pauvres chéris! ’

17 August 1977

Ruthless Rhymes

Father heard his children scream
so he threw them in the stream,
saying, as he drowned the third,

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Wild Mountain Thyme

1. oh, the summer time is coming,
And the trees are sweetly blooming,
And the wild mountain thyme
Grows around the blooming heather.
Chorus:
Will you go, lassie, go?
And well all go together
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather,
Will you go lassie, go?
2. I will build my love a bower
By yon clear and crystal fountain,
And on it I will pile
All the flowers of the mountain.
3. if my true love, she wont have me,
I will surely find another
To pull wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather.
4. oh, the summer time is coming
And the trees are sweetly blooming
And the wild mountain thyme
Grows around the blooming heather

song performed by James Taylor
Added by Lucian Velea
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Marjory

Spring Stornelli.

THE RIVULET.

OH clear smooth rivulet, creeping through our bridge
With backward waves that cling around the shore,
And is thy world beyond the dim blue ridge
More dear than this, or does it need thee more?
Oh lingering stream, upon thy ceaseless way
Glide to to-morrow; yet 'tis fair to-day:
Beyond the hills and haze to-morrows hide;
To-day is fair; glide lingering, ceaseless tide.

SPRING AND SUMMER.

And summer time is good; but at its heat
The fair poor blossoms wither for the fruit,
And song-birds go that made our valley sweet
With useless ecstasies, and the boughs are mute.
And I would keep the blossoms and the song,
And I would have it spring the whole year long:
And I would have my life a year-long spring
To never pass from hopes and blossoming.

THE PRIMROSE.

Dear welcome, sweet pale stars of hope and spring,
Young primroses, blithe with the April air;
My darlings, waiting for my gathering,
Sit in my bosom, nestle in my hair.
But, oh! the fairest laughs behind the brook,
I cannot have it, I can only look:
Oh happy primrose on the further beach,
One can but look on thee, one cannot reach.

LINNET AND LARK.

Oh buoyant linnet in the flakes of thorn,
Sing thy loud lay; for joy and song are one.
Oh skylark floating upwards into morn,
Pour out thy carolling music of the sun.
Sing, sing; be voices of the life-ful air,
Glad things that never knew the cage nor snare:
Be voices of the air, and fill the sky,
Glad things that have no heed of by-and-by.

Summer Stornelli.

THE BEES IN THE LIME.

[...] Read more

poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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The Child Of The Islands - Autumn

I.

BROWN Autumn cometh, with her liberal hand
Binding the Harvest in a thousand sheaves:
A yellow glory brightens o'er the land,
Shines on thatched corners and low cottage-eaves,
And gilds with cheerful light the fading leaves:
Beautiful even here, on hill and dale;
More lovely yet where Scotland's soil receives
The varied rays her wooded mountains hail,
With hues to which our faint and soberer tints are pale.
II.

For there the Scarlet Rowan seems to mock
The red sea coral--berries, leaves, and all;
Light swinging from the moist green shining rock
Which beds the foaming torrent's turbid fall;
And there the purple cedar, grandly tall,
Lifts its crowned head and sun-illumined stem;
And larch (soft drooping like a maiden's pall)
Bends o'er the lake, that seems a sapphire gem
Dropt from the hoary hill's gigantic diadem.
III.

And far and wide the glorious heather blooms,
Its regal mantle o'er the mountains spread;
Wooing the bee with honey-sweet perfumes,
By many a viewless wild flower richly shed;
Up-springing 'neath the glad exulting tread
Of eager climbers, light of heart and limb;
Or yielding, soft, a fresh elastic bed,
When evening shadows gather, faint and dim,
And sun-forsaken crags grow old, and gaunt, and grim.
IV.

Oh, Land! first seen when Life lay all unknown,
Like an unvisited country o'er the wave,
Which now my travelled heart looks back upon,
Marking each sunny path, each gloomy cave,
With here a memory, and there a grave:--
Land of romance and beauty; noble land
Of Bruce and Wallace; land where, vainly brave,
Ill-fated Stuart made his final stand,
Ere yet the shivered sword fell hopeless from his hand--
V.

I love you! I remember you! though years
Have fleeted o'er the hills my spirit knew,
Whose wild uncultured heights the plough forbears,
Whose broomy hollows glisten in the dew.

[...] Read more

poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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The Bonnie Sidlaw Hills

Bonnie Clara, will you go to the bonnie Sidlaw hills
And pu' the blooming heather, and drink from their rills?
There the cranberries among the heather grow,
Believe me, dear Clara, as black as the crow.

Chorus --

Then, bonnie Clara, will you go
And wander with me to and fro?
And with joy our hearts will o'erflow
When we go to the bonnie Sidlaws O.
And the rabbits and hares sport in mirthful glee
In the beautiful woods of Glen Ogilvy,
And innocent trout do sport and play
In the little rivulet of Glen Ogilvy all the day.

Chorus

And in the bonnie woods of Sidlaw the blackbird doth sing,
Making the woodlands with his notes to ring,
Which ought to make a dull heart feel gay,
And help to oheer us on our way.

Chorus

And there the innocent sheep are to be seen
Browsing on the purple heather and pastures green;
And the shepherd can be heard shouting to his dog
As he chases the sheep from out of the bog.

Chorus

And from the tops of the Sidlaws can be seen
The beautiful Howe of Strathmore with its trees and shrubberies green;
Likewise Lochee and its spinning mills
Can be seen on a clear day from the Sidlaw hills.

Chorus

Therefore, bonnie Clara, let's away
To Sidlaw hills without delay,
And pu' the cranberries and bonnie blooming heather
While we wander to and fro on the Sidlaws together.

Chorus

There the lovers can enjoy themselves free from care
By viewing the hilly scenery and inhaling the fresh air,
And return home at night with their hearts full of glee
After viewing the beauties of the Sidlaw hills and Glen Ogilvy.

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Grand Ole Opry Song

Come and listen to my story if you will Im gonna tell
About a gang of fellers from down at nashville
First Ill start with old red foley doin the chattanooga shoe
We cant forget hank williams with them good old lovesick blues
Its time for roy acuff to go to memphis on his train
With minnie pearl and rod brasfield and lazy jim day
Turn on all your radios I know that you will wait
Hear little jimmy dickens sing take an old cold tater and wait
Therell be guitars and fiddles, earl scruggs and his banjo too
Bill monroe singing em the honky tonky blues
Ernest tubbs number two wrongs wont make a right
At the grand ole opry evry saturday night
There was uncle dave macon his gold tooth and plug-hat
Cowboy copas singing tragic romance
Signed sealed and delivered with sam and kirk mcgee
And the master of ceremony was mr. george d. hays
There was lonzo and oscar a-poppin bubble gum
George morgan singin candy kisses yum yum
Got a hole in my bucket bringin in that georgia mill
Well sing the sunny side of the mountain and dance to the chicken reel
Therell be guitars and fiddles and banjo pickin too
Bill monroe singin em the honky tonky blues
Ernest tubbs number too wrongs wont make a right
At the grand ole opry evry saturday night
You can talk about your singers in all kinds of way
But none could sing the old songs like bradley kincaid
With his old hound dog guitar and the famous blue tail fly
Stringbean with hank snow and old fiddlin chubby wise
Therell be guitars and fiddles, earl scruggs and his banjo too
Bill monroe singin em the honky tonky blues
Ernest tubbs number two wrongs dont make a right
At the grand ole opry evry saturday night

song performed by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Added by Lucian Velea
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If You Ever Saw Here

Hey! you know what boy?
That girl is amazing
But she will drive you crazy
Look out!
Shes got a look in her eye
That says she knows why just to taste her is never enough
She gets a thrill out of loving and watching you suffering
She says you can look but dont touch
So dont go fooling yourself
Like so many others
Whove fallen for only a smile
But if youre in for the ride
Hold on tight
Adios and kiss your heart goodbye
Oh and if you ever saw her
Well shes every dream girl from monroe to madonna
Youll swear she walks on water
Shes so fine
Oh and if you ever kissed her
Well I tell you my friend you could never resist her
And if you ever saw her
Youd know why
She holds your heart in her hand
Shell make you a man
But shell play you however she wants
Just when you think that youre winning
Your head starts spinning
You open your eyes and shes gone
So dont believe youre the one
Dont think that this dream is forever, its only a game
But if youre in for the ride, hold on tight
Adios and kiss your heart goodbye
Oh and if you ever saw her
Well shes every dream girl from monroe to madonna
Youll swear she walks on water
Shes so fine
Oh and if you ever kissed her
Well I tell you my friend you could never resist her
And if you ever saw her
Youd know why
You know why, you know why
Shes an atom bomb and shes waiting
To blow you away, away
You better run for cover and pray
Adios and kiss your heart goodbye
Chorus
Mi chica bonita
Oh and if you ever saw her
Well shes every dream girl from monroe to madonna
Youll swear she walks on water

[...] Read more

song performed by Ricky Martin
Added by Lucian Velea
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Love And Marilyn Monroe

(after Spillane)

Let us be aware of the true dark gods
Acknowledgeing the cache of the crotch
The primitive pure and pwerful pink and grey
private sensitivites
Wincing, marvelous in their sweetness, whence rises
the future.

Therefore let us praise Miss Marilyn Monroe.
She has a noble attitude marked by pride and candor
She takes a noble pride in the female nature and torso
She articualtes her pride with directness and exuberance
She is honest in her delight in womanhood and manhood.
She is not a great lady, she is more than a lady,
She continues the tradition of Dolly Madison and Clara
Bow
When she says, "any woman who claims she does not like
to be grabbed is a liar!"
Whether true or false, this colossal remark
states a dazzling intention...

It might be the birth of a new Venus among us
It atones at the very least for such as Carrie Nation
For Miss Monroe will never be a blue nose,
and perhaps we may hope
That there will be fewer blue noses because
she has flourished --
Long may she flourish in self-delight and the joy
of womanhood.
A nation haunted by Puritanism owes her homage and
gratitude.

Let us praise, to say it again, her spiritual pride
And admire one who delights in what she has and is
(Who says also: "A woman is like a motor car:
She needs a good body."
And: "I sun bathe in the nude, because I want
to be blonde all over.")

This is spiritual piety and physical ebullience
This is vivd glory, spiritual and physical,
Of Miss Marilyn Monroe.

poem by Delmore Schwartz
Added by Poetry Lover
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