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From Above

Cast: Danny Glover, Graham Greene, Chelsea Ricketts, Mike Wade, Tantoo Cardinal, Adriana Mather, Clarence Gilyard Jr., Ashley Bell

trailer for From Above, directed by Norry Niven, screenplay by James Bird (2013)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Willow, Willow, Willow

A poore soule sat sighing under a sicamore tree;
O willow, willow, willow!
With his hand on his bosom, his head on his knee:
O willow, willow, willow!
O willow, willow, willow!
Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland.

He sigh'd in his singing, and after each grone,
Come willow, willow, willow!
Come willow, willow, willow!
'I am dead to all pleasure, my true-love is gone.
O willow, willow, willow!
O willow, willow, willow!
Sing, O the greene willow shall be may garland.

'My love she is turned; untrue she doth prove;
O willow, willow, willow!
O willow, willow, willow!
She renders me nothing but hate for my love.
O willow, willow, willow!
O willow, willow, willow!
Sing, O the grene willow, &c.

'O pitty me' (cried he), 'ye lovers each one;
O willow, willow, willow!
O willow, willow, willow!
Her heart's hard as marble; she rues not my mone.
O willow, willow, willow!
O willow, willow, willow!
Sing, O the greene willow, &c.'

The cold streams ran by him, his eyes wept apace;
O willow, willow, willow!
O willow, willow, willow!
The salt tears fell from him, which drowned his face.
O willow, willow, willow!
O willow, willow, willow!
Sing, O the greene willow, &c.

The mute birds sate by him, made tame by his mones;
O willow, willow, willow!
O willow, willow, willow!
The salt tears fell from him, which softened the stones.
O willow, willow, willow!
O willow, willow, willow!
Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland!

'Let nobody blame me, her scornes I do prove;
O willow, willow, willow!
O willow, willow, willow!

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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XI. Guido

You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Dinner Bell

Ive been leaving on my things
So in the morning when the morning bird sings
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket
til the dinner bell rings
Experimental dog*
Salivating dog
Good dog
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Ive been leaving on my things
So in the morning when the morning bird sings
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket
til the dinner bell rings
I dont want a pizza, I dont want a piece of (experimental dog)
Peanut brittle, I dont want a pear.
I dont want a bagel I dont want a bean I wouldnt like (salivating dog)
A bag of beef or a beer or a
Cup of chowder, corn, cake, or creamed cauliflower cause Im (good dog)
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Shoulder, bicep, elbow, arm
Forearm, thumb, wrist, knuckle, palm
Middle, pinky, index, ring
Dinner bell dinner bell ding
I dont know whether Id rather be having a bottle of vinegar (experimental dog)
I dont know whether Id rather be having an egg.
I dont know whether Id rather be having an order of bacon (salivating dog)
Or whether Id rather be having a basket of garlic bread.
I dont know whether Id rather be having some pie or (good dog)
Saving my appetite cause im
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the dinner bell)
Dinner bell dinner bell ring
Ive been leaving on my things (Ive been leaving on)
So in the morning when the morning bird sings (the morning)
Theres still dinner on my dinner jacket (on my)
til the dinner bell does the bell thing
Dinner bell dinner bell do the bell thing
Im waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding ding ding
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding ding ding
Waiting for the dinner bell to do the bell thing (waiting for the ding)
Dinner bell dinner bell ding

song performed by They Might Be Giants
Added by Lucian Velea
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Chelsea Walk

I went down to Chelsea Walk
Where the sun doesn't shine at all
And I went looking for something for me
But I came back with nothing at all
Except an old man who could not see
But he said that he knew God
Chelsea Walk
Oh... Chelsea Walk
Oh... Chelsea Walk

Now I've been down to Chelsea Walk
Where the sun just refuses to shine
And I ran back to my little room
And I jumped straight into a bottle of wine
You know I'll be alright for just a day
But tomorrow I must wake
Chelsea Walk
Oh... Chelsea Walk
Oh... Chelsea Walk

Old man I must be on my way
Don't you worry I'm just scared for those who pray
In Chelsea Walk
Oh... Chelsea Walk
Oh... Chelsea Walk

Chelsea Walk...

song performed by Ocean Colour Scene from B-Sides: Seasides & Freerides
Added by Lucian Velea
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Push

Step 1... step off to the dance floor
Step 1... step off to the dance floor
Push (hey) ((push up on it))
(good God)
Push - lord (push, yeah) ((push up on it))
Every time u get some
People wanna take it back
They rather see u on the run
Than see u get it like that
Every time they stop u
Change up like a sock
Every time they try 2 clock u
Tick more than they tock
Push I push
Dont let them pull u down, yeah
Push I push
Until u get 2 higher ground
Push
Ure never 2 young, never 2 old
Push
Dont stop until u go
Did u ever stop 2 wonder
Why u put another down?
No man should asunder
The joy that another man found
Maybe bout the business u was worried
Wasnt ever filed in your name
Maybe the cartridge u was playin
Dont fit in your video game
Push I push
Dont let them pull u down
Push I push
Until u get 2 higher ground
Push
Ure never 2 young, never 2 old, yeah
Push
Dont stop until u go, hey
(alright) I push (push) ((push up on it))
(push) I push (push, push, hey)
(push) (come on and push it now, hey push)
((push up on it)) (push) I push
Every time u get some push
People wanna take it back p-push
They rather see u on the run push
Than see u get it like that
Every time they stop u
Change up like a sock push
Every time they try 2 clock u push
U gotta tick more than they can tock
Push I push

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Jackaw of Rheims, The

The Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair!
Bishop, and abbot, and prior were there;
Many a monk, and many a friar,
Many a knight, and many a squire,
With a great many more of lesser degree,--
In sooth a goodly company;
And they served the Lord Primate on bended knee.
Never, I ween,
Was a prouder seen,
Read of in books, or dreamt of in dreams,
Than the Cardinal Lord Archbishop of Rheims!

In and out
Through the motley rout,
That little Jackdaw kept hopping about;
Here and there
Like a dog in a fair,
Over comfits and cates,
And dishes and plates,
Cowl and cope, and rochet and pall,
Mitre and crosier! he hopp'd upon all!
With saucy air,
He perch'd on the chair
Where, in state, the great Lord Cardinal sat
In the great Lord Cardinal's great red hat;
And he peer'd in the face
Of his Lordship's Grace,
With a satisfied look, as if he would say,
'We two are the greatest folks here to-day!'
And the priests, with awe,
As such freaks they saw,
Said, 'The Devil must be in that little Jackdaw!'

The feast was over, the board was clear'd,
The flawns and the custards had all disappear'd,
And six little Singing-boys--dear little souls!
In nice clean faces, and nice white stoles,
Came, in order due,
Two by two,
Marching that grand refectory through!
A nice little boy held a golden ewer,
Emboss'd and fill'd with water, as pure
As any that flows between Rheims and Namur,
Which a nice little boy stood ready to catch
In a fine golden hand-basin made to match.
Two nice little boys, rather more grown,
Carried lavender-water, and eau de Cologne;
And a nice little boy had a nice cake of soap,
Worthy of washing the hands of the Pope.
One little boy more

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Harris Barham
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Jackaw of Rheims

The Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair!
Bishop, and abbot, and prior were there;
Many a monk, and many a friar,
Many a knight, and many a squire,
With a great many more of lesser degree,--
In sooth a goodly company;
And they served the Lord Primate on bended knee.
Never, I ween,
Was a prouder seen,
Read of in books, or dreamt of in dreams,
Than the Cardinal Lord Archbishop of Rheims!

In and out
Through the motley rout,
That little Jackdaw kept hopping about;
Here and there
Like a dog in a fair,
Over comfits and cates,
And dishes and plates,
Cowl and cope, and rochet and pall,
Mitre and crosier! he hopp'd upon all!
With saucy air,
He perch'd on the chair
Where, in state, the great Lord Cardinal sat
In the great Lord Cardinal's great red hat;
And he peer'd in the face
Of his Lordship's Grace,
With a satisfied look, as if he would say,
'We two are the greatest folks here to-day!'
And the priests, with awe,
As such freaks they saw,
Said, 'The Devil must be in that little Jackdaw!'

The feast was over, the board was clear'd,
The flawns and the custards had all disappear'd,
And six little Singing-boys--dear little souls!
In nice clean faces, and nice white stoles,
Came, in order due,
Two by two,
Marching that grand refectory through!
A nice little boy held a golden ewer,
Emboss'd and fill'd with water, as pure
As any that flows between Rheims and Namur,
Which a nice little boy stood ready to catch
In a fine golden hand-basin made to match.
Two nice little boys, rather more grown,
Carried lavender-water, and eau de Cologne;
And a nice little boy had a nice cake of soap,
Worthy of washing the hands of the Pope.
One little boy more

[...] Read more

poem by Richard Harris Barham
Added by Poetry Lover
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Virgils Gnat

Wrong'd, yet not daring to expresse my paine,
To you (great Lord) the causer of my care,
In clowdie teares my case I thus complaine
Vnto yourselfe, that onely priuie are:
But if that any Oedipus vnware
Shall chaunce, through power of some diuining spright,
To reade the secrete of this riddle rare,
And know the purporte of my euill plight,
Let him rest pleased with his owne insight,
Ne further seeke to glose vpon the text:
For griefe enough it is to grieued wight
To feele his fault, and not be further vext.
But what so by my selfe may not be showen,
May by this Gnatts complaint be easily knowen.

We now haue playde (Augustus) wantonly,
Tuning our song vnto a tender Muse,
And like a cobweb weauing slenderly,
Haue onely playde: let thus much then excuse
This Gnats small Poeme, that th' whole history
Is but a jest, though envie it abuse:
But who such sports and sweet delights doth blame,
Shall lighter seeme than this Gnats idle name.

Hereafter, when as season more secure
Shall bring forth fruit, this Muse shall speak to thee
In bigger notes, that may thy sense allure,
And for thy worth frame some fit Poesie,
The golden offspring of Latona pure,
And ornament of great Ioues progenie,
Phoebus shall be the author of my song,
Playing on iuorie harp with siluer strong.

He shall inspire my verse with gentle mood
Of Poets Prince, whether he woon beside
Faire Xanthus sprincled with Chimæras blood;
Or in the woods of Astery abide;
Or whereas mount Parnasse, the Muses brood,
Doth his broad forhead like two hornes diuide,
And the sweete waues of sounding Castaly
With liquid foote doth slide downe easily.

Wherefore ye Sisters which the glorie bee
Of the Pierian streames, fayre Naiades,
Go too, and dauncing all in companie,
Adorne that God: and thou holie Pales,
To whome the honest care of husbandrie
Returneth by continuall successe,
Haue care for to pursue his footing light;

[...] Read more

poem by Edmund Spenser
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Chelsea Monday

(derek disck/steve rothery/ pete trewavas/ micheal pointer/mark kelly)
Catalogue princess, apprentice seductress
Hiding in her cellophane world in glitter town
Awaiting the prince in his white capri
Dynamic young tarzan courts the bedsit queen
Shes playing the actress in this bedroom scene
Shes learning her lines from glossy magazines
Stringing all her pearls from her childhood dreams
Auditioning for the leading role on the silver screen
Patience my tinsel angel, patience my perfumed child
One day they really love you, youll charm them with that smile
But for now its just another chelsea monday
Chelsea monday
Tju
In the city of dreamers...
Drifting with her incense in the labyrinth of london
Playing games with faces in the neon wonderland
Perform to scattered shadows on the shattered cobbled aisles
Would she dare recite soliloquies at the risk of stark applause
To chelsea monday
Shell pray for endless sundays as she enters saffron sunsets
Conjure phantom lovers from the tattered shreds of dawn
Fulfilled and yet forgotten the st. tropez mirage
Fragrant aphrodisiac, the withered tuberose
Of chelsea monday
Sweet chelsea monday
Patience my tinsel angel, patience my perfumed child
One day they really love you, youll charm them with that smile
But for now its just another chelsea monday
Sweet chelsea monday
Voice: hello john, did you see the standard about four hours ago?
Fished a young chick out of the old father
Blond hair, blue eyes
She said she wanted to be an actress or something
Nobody knows where she came from, where she was going
Funny thing was she had a smile on her face
She was smiling
What a waste!
Catalogue princess, apprentice seductress
Buried in her cellophane world in glitter town
Of chelsea monday
Chelsea monday
She was only dreaming

song performed by Marillion
Added by Lucian Velea
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Chelsea Girls

Heres room five four six
Its enough to make you sick
Bridgets all wrapped up in foil
You wonder if
She can uncoil
Here they come now
See them run now
Here they come now
Chelsea girls
Heres room one fifteen
Filled with sm queens
Magic marker row
You wonder just
How high they go
Here they come now
See them run now
Here they come now
Chelsea girls
Heres pope dear ondine
Ronas treated him so mean
She wants another scene
She wants to be
A human being
Here they come now
See them run now
Here they come now
Chelsea girls
Pepper shes having fun
She thinks shes some mens son
Her perfect loves dont last
Her future died
In someones past
Here they come now
See them run now
Here they come now
Chelsea girls
Dear ingrids found her lick
Shes turned another trick
Her treats and times revolves
Shes got problems
To be solved
Here they come now
See them run now
Here they come now
Chelsea girls
Poor mary, shes uptight
She cant turn out her light
She rolled susan in a ball
And now she cant
See her at all

[...] Read more

song performed by Velvet Underground
Added by Lucian Velea
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Chelsea Girl

Here's Room five four six
it's enough to make you sick
Bridget's all wrapped up in foil
you wonder if
she can uncoil
Here they come now
see them run now
Here they come now
Chelsea Girls
Here's Room One fifteen
filled with SM queens
Magic marker row
you wonder just
how high they go
Here they come now
see them run now
Here they come now
Chelsea Girls
Here's Pope dear Ondine
Rona's treated him so mean
She wants another scene
she wants to be
a human being
Here they come now
see them run now
Here they come now
Chelsea Girls
Pepper she's having fun
she thinks she's some men's son
Her perfect loves don't last
her future died
in someone's past
Here they come now
see them run now
Here they come now
Chelsea Girls
Dear Ingrid's found her lick
she's turned another trick
Her treats and times revolves
she's got problems
to be solved
Here they come now
see them run now
Here they come now
Chelsea Girls
Poor Mary, she's uptight
she can't turn out her light
She rolled Susan in a ball
and now she can't
see her at all

[...] Read more

song performed by Velvet Underground
Added by Lucian Velea
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Wade In The Water

(first release, live version minneapolis, december 22, 1961traditional, arranged by bob dylan)
Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Well, who are these children all dressed in red?
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Must-a-be the children that moses lead
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Well out of the mountain come fire an smoke
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Jehovah nobody be he couldve spoke
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Well, Im walkin down the highway an the waters gettin low
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Walkin down the highway, nowhere to go
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
But its wade in the water
Wade in the water, children
Wade in the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.
Gods a-gonna trouble the water.

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Think I Can Beat Mike Tyson

Artist: jazzy jeff & the fresh prince
2 old men:
Hey...hey leroy...leroy
Yeah
Did you hear about that boy mike tyson?
Mike...mike tyson hes the boy
That played football from montreal aint he?
No no you old coop, he a...he a boxer man
Yeah
Let me tell ya I went to his fight a couple months ago.
I seen him hit this boy, and he hit the boy so hard
His head flew off into the eigtheenth row
(laughing)
They had to get his head out of the eighteenth row
[prince & jeff]
I was in jeffs crib one night about eight
And we were watchina couple of mike tyson fight tapes
Jeff was like...
Man, you see how hard mikes punchin?
Come on jeff the other guy was just lungin
Left, right, left, right, another k.o.
If that was me Id a been ok though
The very next day I gave russell a ring
With j.l. and omar we all called don king
I said yeah, don I got a problem
Tell em prince
yeah whats up? what you sayin? you tryin to solve em?
forget the small talk lets get to the nitty gritty
me and mike, two months, trump, atlantic city
Yo, you got this you gonna bust dude up
Yeah, you can be my trainer
Word up?
Im rough like a freight train smooth like ice
And yo jeff, straight up, I think I can mike tyson
Man, you can beat him, you can beat him
Yo man, word up
Yo I put on a couple of pounds man we can do this
You can do it
Newspaper boy, old men:
Extra, extra read all about it
Fresh prince challenges iron mike tyson to a fight
(laughing)
Ah hes crazy
Aint that the boy who knocked the guys head in the fifthteen row?
Hey leroy, you read the paper?
That boy done lost his man
[prince, barber]
There was press conference to see what training I was doing
Before then I had never heard reporters booing
Cameras flashing I was in the middle

[...] Read more

song performed by Will Smith
Added by Lucian Velea
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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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Danny Deever

"What are the bugles blowin' for?" said Files-on-Parade.
"To turn you out, to turn you out", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"What makes you look so white, so white?" said Files-on-Parade.
"I'm dreadin' what I've got to watch", the Colour-Sergeant said.
For they're hangin' Danny Deever, you can hear the Dead March play,
The regiment's in 'ollow square -- they're hangin' him to-day;
They've taken of his buttons off an' cut his stripes away,
An' they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

"What makes the rear-rank breathe so 'ard?" said Files-on-Parade.
"It's bitter cold, it's bitter cold", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"What makes that front-rank man fall down?" said Files-on-Parade.
"A touch o' sun, a touch o' sun", the Colour-Sergeant said.
They are hangin' Danny Deever, they are marchin' of 'im round,
They 'ave 'alted Danny Deever by 'is coffin on the ground;
An' 'e'll swing in 'arf a minute for a sneakin' shootin' hound --
O they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'!

"'Is cot was right-'and cot to mine", said Files-on-Parade.
"'E's sleepin' out an' far to-night", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"I've drunk 'is beer a score o' times", said Files-on-Parade.
"'E's drinkin' bitter beer alone", the Colour-Sergeant said.
They are hangin' Danny Deever, you must mark 'im to 'is place,
For 'e shot a comrade sleepin' -- you must look 'im in the face;
Nine 'undred of 'is county an' the regiment's disgrace,
While they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

"What's that so black agin' the sun?" said Files-on-Parade.
"It's Danny fightin' 'ard for life", the Colour-Sergeant said.
"What's that that whimpers over'ead?" said Files-on-Parade.
"It's Danny's soul that's passin' now", the Colour-Sergeant said.
For they're done with Danny Deever, you can 'ear the quickstep play,
The regiment's in column, an' they're marchin' us away;
Ho! the young recruits are shakin', an' they'll want their beer to-day,
After hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'.

poem by Rudyard Kipling
Added by Poetry Lover
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Bell's Palsy I Penned stroke on stroke penned - Optimistic In...Sight

Bell's Palsy I

December turns November's page.
Assumptions artificial,
priorities age must regauge
of ease so superficial
the tenets, try to disengage
from palsy interstitial,
periphery extend sans rage
ineptly hit-and-missile.
Paralysis as passing stage
perceived though prejudicial
as challenge met we trust will wage
war on clock lock official,
ensuring both for sot and sage
return to strength initial...

II

Bell’s Palsy II – Number Seven Optic Nerve

Number seven optic nerve, now numb,
taken for granted, normally ignored,
leaves facial features slanted. Voice, not dumb,
answers questions with weak monochord.
Flesh elastic flaccid has become,
control relinquished, hanging on a word.
Vision peripheral blurred. Though rule of thumb
Provides for time-line, faculties restored,
Frustration, hope, play hide-and-seek, mind glum,
stares awry at some lop-sided smile. Record
of former glory plays back yet stays mum.
May this as an example serve, health granted
For future learning curve can’t be transplanted.

3 December 2007 revised 8 August 2008

Bell's Palsy III - Recounting Countdown

Recounting Countdown

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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Bell's Palsy XIV - Dew Diligence

Bell's Palsy XIV - Dew Diligence

Dew diligence when eyelid is denied
control of wink, when blink becomes a feat
beyond the ken of mice and men, conceit
melts to humility, while cares abide.
Heartbeat accelerates to concide
with worry, movements taken for a ride
by malady haphazard striking fleet.
Fixed expression canvas could complete
as flexibility falls to one side,
focus reduced, no longer far and wide,
too close for comfort, wanders off the beat.
Pride, knocked for skittles, cannot make ends meet,
patience, once praised, stays stage-struck, sorely tried.
Fixed interest stocks soar, gilt lining’s sought
to train too slack to credit outlook taut.

5 December 2007

Bell's Palsy XV - Dissymmetry

Confusion from confusion must adjust
to face tomorrow’s out of kilter grin
with humour ‘til the specialists non-plussed
seize on season’s reason, find win-win
solution to an accident now cussed
in no uncertain terms as worms begin
to lay their weight on current state where lust
must bridled be, - who’d seek as kith and kin
one open eye, one which retains unfussed
perspective, lacks control of muscle spin
to twin both sides in unison true, just.
Dissymmetry becomes a moral gin
and handicap self-efident, untrussed
is optic nerve from verse which would begin
to laugh at luck, continue tongue in cheek
to find new way to strength transformed from weak.

5 December 2007

Bell's Palsy XVI - To Test Frontiers

Inertia catalyzes swift reaction

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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Bell's Palsy XV - Dissymmetry

Bell's Palsy XV - Dissymmetry

Confusion from confusion must adjust
to face tomorrow’s out of kilter grin
with humour ‘til the specialists non-plussed
seize on season’s reason, find win-win
solution to an accident now cussed
in no uncertain terms as worms begin
to lay their weight on current state where lust
must bridled be, - who’d seek as kith and kin
one open eye, one which retains unfussed
perspective, lacks control of muscle spin
to twin both sides in unison true, just.
Dissymmetry becomes a moral gin
and handicap self-efident, untrussed
is optic nerve from verse which would begin
to laugh at luck, continue tongue in cheek
to find new way to strength transformed from weak.

5 December 2007

Bell's Palsy XVI - To Test Frontiers

Inertia catalyzes swift reaction
testing limits unbeknownst before,
experienced elsewhere, though, we ignore
discomforts which might hamper freedom, action.
Impervious to muscular contraction,
left eyelid, lip, unable are to draw
lines which smile, frown designed, while vision poor
interferes, and adds unsought distraction.
In health, free from nervous petrifaction
few seek out illness, won’t by choice explore
the options close to those that chance, gene flaw
or accident are trapped, lose speech, sight, traction.
Fresh emphasis on disabilities
should top the list of our priorities.

5 December 2007

Bell's Palsy XVII - Temptations

Blessed externals force the mind to turn

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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Bell's Palsy XVI - To Test Frontiers

Bell's Palsy XVI - To Test Frontiers

Inertia catalyzes swift reaction
testing limits unbeknownst before,
experienced elsewhere, though, we ignore
discomforts which might hamper freedom, action.
Impervious to muscular contraction,
left eyelid, lip, unable are to draw
lines which smile, frown designed, while vision poor
interferes, and adds unsought distraction.
In health, free from nervous petrifaction
few seek out illness, won’t by choice explore
the options close to those that chance, gene flaw
or accident are trapped, lose speech, sight, traction.
Fresh emphasis on disabilities
should top the list of our priorities.

5 December 2007

Bell's Palsy XVII - Temptations

Blessed externals force the mind to turn
within to test perception shared by all
who, sight curtailed, or lost beyond recall,
must grasp at straws, effect and cause discern,
too well aware temptations bridges burn.
First impressions seem attaitned, ball
‘questions aye’s and no’s’, past free-for-all
is circumcised, undertain seems return
to ‘normalcy’ which, hitherto could earn
approval’s hallmark stamp. Cramps now forestall
options infinite. Cut and dried, in thrall,
one’s tied who far and wide went, wit withdrawn
from choice unlimited as on this page
fragility highlights restictive cage.

5 December 2007

Bell's Palsy XVIII - Fragility

Ink flows as if it knows that tale once writ
cannot rephrase a passing phase whose light

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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Bell's Palsy XVII - Temptations

Bell's Palsy XVII - Temptations

Blessed externals force the mind to turn
within to test perception shared by all
who, sight curtailed, or lost beyond recall,
must grasp at straws, effect and cause discern,
too well aware temptations bridges burn.
First impressions seem attaitned, ball
‘questions aye’s and no’s’, past free-for-all
is circumcised, undertain seems return
to ‘normalcy’ which, hitherto could earn
approval’s hallmark stamp. Cramps now forestall
options infinite. Cut and dried, in thrall,
one’s tied who far and wide went, wit withdrawn
from choice unlimited as on this page
fragility highlights restictive cage.

5 December 2007

Bell's Palsy XVIII - Fragility

Ink flows as if it knows that tale once writ
cannot rephrase a passing phase whose light
too soon extinguished must merge into night
where sot or sage blot page, through age unfit.
We’re puppets strung, hands wrung won’t change a bit
repeated role enforced by karmic spite.
If free-will reigns, there’s no pre-destined right
or wrong, no rung to heav’n, no roasting spit.
Through ‘accident’ or ‘fate’ fragility
in spotlight’s thrown, ‘to be, or not to be’
depends upon coincidence where rules
few follow with prescient authority.
Manage man age when palsied dry eye’s numb
is out of reach with speech deformed, near dumb.

5 December 2007 revised 17 January 2008

Bell's Palsy XIX - Moving Finger Writes

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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