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So I've never found there was any particular separation between the two cultures at all, musically speaking.

quote by Neville Marriner
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The Cloud Messenger - Part 04

The slender young woman who is there would be the premier creation by the
Creator in the sphere of women, with fine teeth, lips like a ripe bimba fruit, a
slim waist, eyes like a startled gazelle’s, a deep navel, a gait slow on account
of the weight of her hips, and who is somewhat bowed down by her breasts.

You should know that she whose words are few, my second life, is like a
solitary female cakravaka duck when I, her mate, am far away. While these
weary days are passing, I think the girl whose longing is deep has taken on an
altered appearance, like a lotus blighted by frost.

Surely the face of my beloved, her eyes swollen from violent weeping, the
colour of her lower lip changed by the heat of her sighs, resting upon her
hand, partially hidden by the hanging locks of her hair, bears the miserable
appearance of the moon with its brightness obscured when pursued by you.

She will come at once into your sight, either engaged in pouring oblations, or
drawing from memory my portrait, but grown thin on account of separation,
or asking the sweet-voiced sarika bird in its cage, ‘I hope you remember the
master, O elegant one, for you are his favourite’;

Or having placed a lute on a dirty cloth on her lap, friend, wanting to sing a
song whose words are contrived to contain my name, and somehow plucking
the strings wet with tears, again and again she forgets the melody, even
though she composed it herself;

Or engaged in counting the remaining months set from the day of our
separation until the end by placing flowers on the ground at the threshold, or
enjoying acts of union that are preserved in her mind. These generally are the
diversions of women when separated from their husbands.

During the day, when she has distractions, separation will not torment her so
much. I fear that your friend will have greater suffering at night without
distraction. You who carry my message, positioned above the palace roof-top,
see the good woman at midnight, lying on the ground, sleepless, and cheer her
thoroughly.

Grown thin with anxiety, lying on one side on a bed of separation, resembling
the body of the moon on the eastern horizon when only one sixteenth part
remains, shedding hot tears, passing that night, lengthened by separation,
which spent in desired enjoyments in company with me would have passed in
an instant.

Covering with eyelashes heavy with tears on account of her sorrow, her eyes
which were raised to face the rays of the moon, which were cool with nectar
and which entered by way of the lattice, fall again on account of her previous
love, like a bed of land-lotuses on an overcast day, neither open nor closed.

She whose sighs that trouble her bud-like lower lip will surely be scattering
the locks of her hair hanging at her cheek, dishevelled after a simple bath,
thinking how enjoyment with me might arise even if only in a dream, yearning

[...] Read more

poem by Kalidasa
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[9] O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!

O, Moon, My Sweet-heart!
[LOVE POEMS]

POET: MAHENDRA BHATNAGAR

POEMS

1 Passion And Compassion / 1
2 Affection
3 Willing To Live
4 Passion And Compassion / 2
5 Boon
6 Remembrance
7 Pretext
8 To A Distant Person
9 Perception
10 Conclusion
10 You (1)
11 Symbol
12 You (2)
13 In Vain
14 One Night
15 Suddenly
16 Meeting
17 Touch
18 Face To Face
19 Co-Traveller
20 Once And Once only
21 Touchstone
22 In Chorus
23 Good Omens
24 Even Then
25 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (1)
26 An Evening At ‘Tighiraa’ (2)
27 Life Aspirant
28 To The Condemned Woman
29 A Submission
30 At Midday
31 I Accept
32 Who Are You?
33 Solicitation
34 Accept Me
35 Again After Ages …
36 Day-Dreaming
37 Who Are You?
38 You Embellished In Song

[...] Read more

poem by Mahendra Bhatnagar
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In a Manner of Speaking

In a manner of speaking, I want to kill you,
said the drunk redneck to his wife,
In a manner of speaking, I don't love you,
said my ex (turned vegan) to me,
as I returned from a psych ward, hoping for
some sort of reconciliation,
And in a manner of speaking, the whole
world has gone to shit, that no mentally
unbalanced poet can improve upon,
In a manner of speaking, I was just a haiku
before I birthed an epic poem in 2008
and it went something like:
In a manner of speaking…

In a manner of speaking, there is plenty of
beer and loose women,
In a manner of speaking, there is plenty of
internet journals with useless information,
In a manner of speaking, there are plenty of
assholes writing about getting laid and anal sex
on MySpace,
In a manner of speaking, my friend got raped
a few years ago and now has occasional herpes
outbreaks, which are quite disturbing
to her husband,
In a manner of speaking, I'm losing faith in humanity
and love at times,
In a manner of speaking, we just go through the motions,
hoping for something to change or something
spectacular to happen.

But I don't really know any more,
trying to make sense of it all, screaming for some sort of
sanity that eludes me,
In a manner of speaking, I feel alone here,
unable to connect to what's around me-
I just told some guy at a bar that I was a Dallas Cowboys
fan and I don't even watch football,
and he told me to come in my 'gear' on Sunday,
In a manner of speaking, I feel somewhat liberated
because I have no clue as to what I'm doing,
knowing that there is really no escape.

January 8,2008
-Alexander Shaumyan

poem by Alexander Shaumyan
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Statistically Speaking

Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
From the viewpoint of a human being...
I detect us humans,
Are the least important things,
On this Earth.
And the water, grass and trees...
Are the 'real' things,
Mother Nature wishes more to treat!

I perceive our existence here,
Is not so high on the list.
Since we are an experiment.
Even though we choose to think of ourselves,
As the center of the universe.
And here to live in a permanence!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Statistically speaking.

We leech and feed,
Off what nature offers.
We know nothing but conflict!
And this chaos we foster.
There are laws created to discriminate.
Yet we discuss things loved...
And show how much we despise and hate.
We infiltrate and pillage,
Lands where others live.
We take without thought.
Causing blood to shed.
And worship heartache.
As we lay alone sleepless in our beds!

Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
With faith we fake brotherhood!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
Believing prayer delivers escape!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
And cry like spoiled children!
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom,
With no guilt of remorse to eliminate...

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Exile

By the sad waters of separation
Where we have wandered by divers ways,
I have but the shadow and imitation
Of the old memorial days.

In music I have no consolation,
No roses are pale enough for me;
The sound of the waters of separation
Surpasseth roses and melody.

By the sad waters of separation
Dimly I hear from an hidden place
The sigh of mine ancient adoration:
Hardly can I remember your face.

If you be dead, no proclamation
Sprang to me over the waste, gray sea:
Living, the waters of separation
Sever for ever your soul from me.

No man knoweth our desolation;
Memory pales of the old delight;
While the sad waters of separation
Bear us on to the ultimate night.

poem by Ernest Christopher Dowson
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An Epidemic Of Melancholy Proportions

an epidemic of melancholy proportions
is sweeping through many societies countries
despair dejection sadness misery hopelessness
are recession downturn decline consequences

suicide globally haunts many countries cultures
suicide globally engulfs preys upon countries cultures

many countries cultures ethnic societies
never even developed coined a word for depression
yet globally according to recent studies
fifty percent of women suffer episodes of depression

yearly mainly
each at least
a single episode

as opposed
to only ten
percent of men

ask the question
is depression
an issue the world

should take seriously...

one million people a year
are cured permanently
one million people a year succeed
in their attempts at suicide

issue depression needs countries cultures to address
society wide ways to address negative mind problems
depression has become a diabolical mind field killer
when will we learn to honour all our human family?

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Can't Stand It (Live On Letterman)

The way things go
You get so low
Struggle to find your skin
Hey ho
Look out below
Your prayers will never be answered again
Phones still ring
And singers sing
Speakers are speaking in code
What now
Well anyhow
Our prayers will never be answered again
You know it's all beginning
(It's all beginning)
To feel like It's ending
(Feels like It's ending)
No loves as random
As God's love
I can't stand it
I can't stand it
The way things get
You get so high
Funny how we make new friends
Oh hey ho
I gotta go
My prayers will never be answered again
You know It's all beginning
(it's all beginning)
To feel like It's ending
(Feels like It's ending)
No loves as random
As God's love
I can't stand it
I can't stand it
Speakers speaking
Speakers speaking
Speaking in code
Speakers speaking
Speakers speaking
Speaking in code
You know It's all beginning
(it's all beginning)
To feel like pretending
(To feel like pretending)
No loves as random
As my love
I can't stand it
I can't stand it
Your prayers will never be answered again
Your prayers will never be answered again

[...] Read more

song performed by Wilco
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A Map Of Culture

Culture

Contents

What is Culture?

The Importance of Culture

Culture Varies

Culture is Critical

The Sociobiology Debate

Values, Norms, and Social Control

Signs and Symbols

Language

Terms and Definitions

Approaches to the Study of Culture

Are We Prisoners of Our Culture?

What is Culture?

I prefer the definition used by Ian Robertson: 'all the shared products of society: material and nonmaterial' (Our text defines it in somewhat more ponderous terms- 'The totality of learned, socially transmitted behavior. It includes ideas, values, and customs (as well as the sailboats, comic books, and birth control devices) of groups of people' (p.32) .

Back to Contents

[...] Read more

poem by Nyein Way
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Its Going Down

I knew I was being threatened
Do you think it's worth holding out?
I mean I heard some pretty ugly things about those guys
Ugly stories
Watch them flee
Watch them flee
Wrap-up
Watch them flee
Hip-Hop hits
And you do it like this
It's goin' down
The rhythm projects 'round the next sound
Reflects the complex hybrid dialect now
Detect the mesh of many elements compressed down
The melting pot of a super-futureesque style
The combination of a vocal caress
With lungs that gasp for breath
From emotional stress
With special effects
And a distorted collage
Carefully lodged between beats of rhythmic barrage
Chorus:
It's goin' down
The logical progression on a the timeline
The separation narrowed down to a fine line
To blur the edges so they blend together properly
Take you on an audible odyssey
Now it's goin' down
The logical progression on a the timeline
The separation narrowed down to a fine line
To blur the edges so they blend together properly
Take you on an audible odyssey
Now it's goin' down
Put put put it up
And it goes like this
And you do it like this
It's goin' down
Once again it is
Composed sentences all together venomous
The four elements of natural force
Projected daily through the sound of the source
Everybody on board with this blend
The sword with the pen
The mightiest is the weapons
Swinging right from the chin
The elevate of mental states
Long gone with the wind
To defend men for shoddy imitation pretends
It's going down
Stalence emulation readily

[...] Read more

song performed by Linkin Park
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It's Goin' Down

(This is not a Linkin Park song, it is in here because it
features some members of Linkin Park and there is no
section for the lyrics of the X-Ecutioners)
Watch them flee
Watch them flee
Watch them flee
Hip-Hop hits
And you do it like this
It's going down
The rhythm projects 'round the next sound
Reflects the complex hybrid dialect now
Detect the mesh of many elements compressed down
The melting pot of a super-futuresque style
The combination of a vocal caress
With lungs that gasp for breath
From emotional stress
With special effects
And a distorted collage
Carefully lodged between beats of rhythmic barrage
It's going down
A logical progression on the timeline
The separation narrowed down to a fine line
To blur the edges so they blend together properly
Take you on an audible odyssey now
It's going down
A logical progression on the timeline
The separation narrowed down to a fine line
To blur the edges so they blend together properly
Take you on an audible odyssey now
It's going down
It's going down
It's going down
Once again it is
Composed sentences all together venomous
The four elements of natural force
Projected daily through the sound of the source
Everybody on board with this blend
The sword with the pen
The mightiest is the weapons
Swinging right from the chin
The elevate of mental states
Long gone with the wind
To defend men for shoddy imitation pretends
It's going down
Style assimilation readily
Trekking through the weaponry
Of the pure pedigree
Cleverly seeing through whatever is ahead of me
Whatever the weather be
We invent the steadily

[...] Read more

song performed by Linkin Park
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Full Circle

All Ive ever touched or said to them
Becomes a rehearsal for you, just practicing,
Too many magic moments to be coincidence
It all comes full circle
I knew someone who knew you
And he introduced me to you
Your ex-girlfriend had a boyfriend
Who kissed my girlfriend
Who did adrian
The world keeps on getting smaller and smaller
And everything comes back full circle, full circle
Six degrees of separation
We all know someone else
It all comes full circle
And you come from england
My ex-boyfriend, he is indian
British passport, were all connected
And everyone else is affected
The world keeps on getting smaller and smaller
And everything comes back full circle, full circle
Six degrees of separation
We all know someone else
It all comes full circle
It all comes full circle
The world keeps on getting smaller and smaller
And everything comes back full circle, full circle
Six degrees of separation
We all know someone else
It all comes full circle
The world keeps on getting smaller and smaller
And everything comes back full circle, full circle
Six degrees of separation
We all know someone else
It all comes full circle

song performed by No Doubt
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So Far Gone

How its done.
Always on the run.
Just another number.
Statistics.
Becoming a mystic.
Watch the hands closely.
Its a disappearing trick.
Shes there, shes gone.

How its done.
Always on the run.
Just another picture.
Memories.
The burning disease.
Watch the horror movies.
Its more flashbacks.
Its there, its gone.

How its done.
Always on the run.
Just another measure.
Despair.
So f*cking scared.
Watch the fire ignite.
Its a candle light vigil.
Were there were gone.
So far gone, so far gone.
Its another place.
Distant.
Separation of the body and mined.
Traveling through outer space.
Grab the twilight.
Hold on to it.
Make it yours.
For it hasn't been there before.
So far gone, so far gone.
Its another place.
Distant.
Separation of the body and mined.
Traveling through outer space.
Grab the twilight.
Hold on to it.
Make it yours.
For it hasn't been there before.

How its done.
Always on the run.
Just another treasure.
Desire.
What you want.

[...] Read more

poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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Love In Separation 1 - 5

I
Today my heart is beating a sorrowful tune
and I don’t really know if it will end soon.
Since your departure all seems to be amiss
a pale reflection of that once heavenly bliss.
I have been left stranded on an alien shore
to fend for myself groping near your door.
The aftertaste of delight which our union once exuded
lingers on now in memory and feels like I was deluded.
Something doesn’t seem to be quite the same
even though I remember and repeat your name.
Your presence was what made the difference then
such a tangible feeling: will you not come again?
I can only endeavour to lure you back once more
so please don’t any of my genuine efforts ignore.

II
I look for you everywhere that I happen to go
but where you’re to be found I’d like to know.
Some say you’re in the heart and to look within
while others assert that you’re in the next of kin.
Life is really a situation of relationships with you
and knowledge of the ways of love gets us through.
If we come across difficulties and obstacles by love they’re resolved
which engenders compassion and understanding as it gets involved.
There are many people in the world who look in all the wrong places
searching for the same thing here in the available surrounding spaces.
Hoping that what they’ll find is what their heart most desires
and to fulfil this craving their mind with their heart conspires.
Our inner being or soul though is the silent witness observing all
and expresses itself as our higher conscience when we heed its call.

III
To suffer in the agony of a lover’s separation we learn
that being away from the Beloved makes the heart burn.
It is even worse when the Beloved has gone away not saying why
and the lover has been left alone in the throes of love high and dry.
The heart cannot bear the pain of love in separation
and the mind seeks to achieve a suitable reconciliation.
When the power of love rules the heart mind hastens to obey
and doesn’t need any other reason to cause unwanted delay.
If all the lover’s efforts to a reunion only end in despair
then it may be better to let the matter rest awhile there.
True love cannot be really denied except at a great personal cost
and in desperation we seldom realise the value of what’s been lost.
There is a saying that: ‘love will always find a way’
and that a heart full of love over the mind holds sway.

IV
As I was never given a reason why you suddenly left

[...] Read more

poem by George Krokos
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Separation

How does one define separation?
What does one mean by separation?
Is it when breath is severed from the body?
Is it when the court of law declares 'divorced? '

How many separations come as blows!
How many, pass by silently!
How many separations we live with
And how many more do we contain!

Don't some come as relief too?

Tell me, my friend
Why do we always think of separation as external?
How many of us aren't really separated from our self?

Tell me, can you define separation for me?

20 May 2011
20.09hrs

poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Poems For Piraye (9 To 10 O’Clock Poems)

Remembering you is good
in prison
amid the news
of victory and death
as my fortieth year passes...

Remembering you is good
your hand
forgotten upon a blue dress
your hair
with the grave softness
of the earth of my beloved Istanbul.
This joy of loving you
is like a second person inside me...
The smell of geranium leaves
on your fingertips
warm and comforting
The invitation of your flesh
a hot
intense darkness
scored by vivid red lines...

Remembering you is good
or writing about you
as I lie on my back
in prison
thinking of such and such a day
at such and such a place
of some words you said
not of the words so much
but of the world and you within them...

Remembering you is good
I must carve some things for you again
a jewel box
a ring
I must weave a length of thin silk
then jump up
and clutching the window bars
shout what I have written for you
to the innocent blue
of freedom.

Remembering you is good
in prison
amid the news
of victory and death
as my fortieth year passes...
1942

[...] Read more

poem by Nazim Hikmet
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Two poems about separation, different themes

The separation

I put the money in a bucket,
lowered it down to him
taking care that the notes
didn't fly off.

He made a grab for the pail,
clutched it greedily
as he'd once held me
and walked away, grinning.

A bucket load of money
was all he'd ever wanted,
and now, at last,
he was sated.

Separation came as a friend
and though I'm left poorer
I feel as rich as a King
and better for it.

The Separation

I can't put into words,
can't express,
the anxiety,
sadness,
worry
it caused me.

I can't tell you how I cried,
how my stomach hurt,
how I stressed
and fretted
and then ___
I saw you.

You'd lost weight,
you were a shadow,
of your former self,
your eyes were sunken in
you were grief stricken and
you reached for my hand.

We walked, together,
through the emptiness
and somehow

[...] Read more

poem by Ruth Walters
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Ch 05 On Love And Youth Story 18

A man in patched garments’ accompanied us in a caravan to the Hejaz and one of the Arab amirs presented him with a hundred dinars to spend upon his family but robbers of the Kufatcha tribe suddenly fell upon the caravan and robbed it clean of everything. The merchants began to wail and to cry, uttering vain shouts and amentations.

Whether thou implorest or complainest
The robber will not return the gold again.

The dervish alone had not lost his equanimity and showed no change. I asked: ‘Perhaps they have not taken thy money?’ He replied: ‘Yes, they have but I was not so much accustomed to that money that separation therefrom could grieve my heart’:

The heart must not be tied to any thing or person
Because to take off the heart is a difficult affair.

I replied: ‘What thou hast said resembles my case because, when I was young, my intimacy with a young man and my friendship for him were such that his beauty was the Qiblah of my eye and the chief joy of my life union with him’:

Perhaps an angel in heaven but no mortal
Can be on earth equal in beauty of form to him.
I swear by the amity, after which companionship is illicit,
No human sperm will ever become a man like him.

All of a sudden the foot of his life sank into the mire of non-existence. The smoke of separation arose from his family. I kept him company on his grave for many days and one of my compositions on his loss is as follows:

Would that on the day when the thorn of fate entered thy foot
The hand of heaven had struck a sword on my head;
So that this day my eye could not see the world without thee.
Here I am on thy grave, would that it were over my head.
He who could take neither rest nor sleep
Before he had first scattered roses and narcissi.
The turns of heaven have strewn the roses of his face.
Thorns and brambles are growing on his tomb.

After separation from him I resolved and firmly determined to fold up the carpet of pleasure during the rest of my life and to retire from mixing in society:

Last night I strutted about like a peacock in the garden of union
But today, through separation from my friend, I twist my head like a snake.
The profit of the sea would be good if there were no fear of waves.
The company of the rose would be sweet if there were no pain from thorns.

poem by Sa di
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Relatively Speaking

This song was first released on the seasons of the heart album. it is the only album it has been released on.
Relatively speaking you make me who I am
I need you exactly like the ocean needs the land
I need you like the sunshine needs the shadows and the night
I need you the way love needs the savage hurtful fight
Relatively speaking Im nothing without you
You are where Ive been before you are where Im going to
You are living out my dreams and you are all my fears
You evoke my laughter, you unleash every tear
The rich ones need the poor ones
The blind need those with sight
Sinners need the pure of heart
The black ones need the white
Relatively speaking the contrast make sit go
Every action taken is related in the flow
Stars and losers, kings and fools go dancing hand in hand
Relatively speaking you make me who I am
Relatively speaking the contrast make sit go
Every action taken is related in the flow
Stars and losers, kings and fools go dancing hand in hand
Relatively speaking you make me who I am
Who I am
Words by arthur hancock
Music by john denver

song performed by John Denver
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Between My Wishes and Suspicions

When I say I'm eleven,
I'm not speaking of my wit.
I'm speaking of what I've got,
Between my...
Wishes and suspicions.

When I say I'm eleven,
I'm not speaking of my wit.
I'm speaking of what I've got,
Between my...
Wishes and suspicions.

I don't tease a bit.
Between my...
Wishes and suspicions.
I don't even plead the 5th.
Between my...
Wishes and suspicions,
I can handle it.
And anything else I choose to take on.

Between my...
Wishes and suspicions.
I don't tease a bit.
Between my...
Wishes and suspicions.
I don't even plead the 5th.
Between my...
Wishes and suspicions,
I can handle it.
And anything else I choose to take on.

When I say I'm eleven,
I'm not speaking of my wit.
I'm speaking of what I've got,
Between my...
Wishes and suspicions.

I don't tease a bit.
Between my...
Wishes and suspicions.
I don't even plead the 5th.
Between my...
Wishes and suspicions,
I can handle it.
And anything else I choose to take on.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Stream Line Consciousness

Big brother voyeur blimps unidentified spies
uncle sam peeping toms patrolling skies
bird brain police intelligence
remote viewing homeland pest control
pentagon private eye monitoring the public's every move
mass produced micro chips intercepting prayers patrolling citizens from heaven
Bentham's Panopticon NSA
super computer surveillance cameras
world police spying Manhattan streets

'Athens plummets Euro death spiral
suicide rates soar deepening into despair'

haaretz..the post.. the times
blogs tribunes dailies all in a mad gab
headlong headline attention grabbing scramble

'Yugoslavia - Iraq - Egypt - Yemen - Iran - Syria - United States'
bilderberg building blocks New American Century post apocalyptic prophecy

'foreign mercenaries …national guard...DOD
homeland security to amass covert munitions stockpile
Americans on guard anxieties mounting surrounding
the stripping of amendments 1st if you swing to your left
2nd if you stand on the right
whispers of martial law circulate Anarchical reverberations
emanate from internet Alt culture epicenters
bottle necking global tensions'

'common feeling of deepening disappointment...
heightened expectations...
people expecting an explosive situation over the
next few weeks'

...riot police respond 'to preserve public order'
public roads barricaded to 'protect security of citizens'

'blatant act of censorship
western mainstream media staying away
from Myanmar massacres of Mohammedan Angels
further showing strong anti Muslim bias'

'Media blackout Burmese army
seeking coverage under propaganda blankets'

from the middle east throughout the western world
planet consciousness blurring lines between conspiracy/reality
conflicting global network narratives multiply violent scenarios daily
Victims in a world wide scramble
Government Banking Military

[...] Read more

poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
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