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If I'm going to do something, I do it spectacularly or I don't do it at all.

quote by Al Waleed bin Talal
Added by Lucian Velea
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Vision in White and Blue

The eyes, the blue, the smile
The skin, the hair
Those socks, prim, upright
Spectacularly beautiful; the blue, the pink

The breath, the ripples, the heart pounding
The arm, protective, the nibbling kisses
That short sleeved shirt; white
Spectacularly beautiful; the almost transparent, the so light brown

The mouth, the saliva, the other's mouth
The exchange, the lips
The spit; dripping down
Spectacularly beautiful; the red, the pink

The white, the hand, shy, the delicate nod
The revelation, the shiver
Sleek; strokes as satin
Spectacularly beautiful; the pure white, the pink

The rhythm, the fingers, the dance
The music, the twisted lip
Faster, relentless, the smile
Spectacularly beautiful; the blue, the pink

poem by Timothy Marshal Nichols
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Sumthin For That Ass

Everybody report to the dance floor,
report to the dance floor
Oooooooooh
Oooooooooh
Oooooooooh
Oooooooooh (come on)
Oooooooooh (heat's keeping us on this dance floor)
Oooooooooh (everybody report to the dance floor)
Oooooooooh (report to the dance floor)
(come on)
What the hell y'all came here for
If y'all ain't out there on that floor
You asked me to bring it so
I brang you more
Give it to you raw,
give it to you hard core,
Lock the terminator gonna keep this pure
Just for y'all, for y'all pleasure (your pleasure, pleasure)
Smoking hot like bim cigars
This goes out to mam in car
Strut
Hey ladies lets get down
Spin your partners round and round (round and round and round)
wait on your back and dosedo
don't say nothin' if you dosedoed
(oh no)
Let's scream and shout
And turn this jamboree-out
Thats just what we're gonna do
'cause I'm proud that it is makin' way for you.
I got sumthin for that a** (I got sumthin for that a**)
You could feel it in the car (you could feel it in the car)
I just want to see you dance (I just want to see you dance)
Nows the time for y'all to move (so come on keep movin')
Let's keep this sh** moving (keep on moving)
Get on down and put the groove in (groove, groove)
This party ain't never gonna end since
right when it stop we're gonna start it again (start again)
The way she always by the ten
and the mens outside and they can't get in
Damn they're so spectacularly
see so much damn a** in here (here, here)
Hey ladies lets get down (lets get down)
Move them fella's round and round
wiggle down your hips and dosedo
don't say nothin' if you dosedoed
let's scream and shout
if your up against the wall get the hell on out
That's n-o-t-o-i-r-o-u-s you just follow your soul and then
I've got somthin for dat a** (I got somthin for dat a**)

[...] Read more

song performed by Black Eyed Peas
Added by Lucian Velea
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On Being A Woman

Why is it, when I am in Rome
I'd give an eye to be at home
But when on native earth I be
My soul is sick for Italy?

And why with you, my love, my lord
Am I spectacularly bored
Yet do you up and leave me- then
I scream to have Annotateyou back again?

poem by Dorothy Parker
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I have made a film about jazz that tries to look through jazz to see what it tells us about who we are as a people. I think that jazz is a spectacularly accurate model of democracy and a kind of look into our redemptive future possibilities.

quote by Ken Burns
Added by Lucian Velea
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Finale

Across the sky a streak of light,
a shooting star, a meteor.
Against the darkness of the night,
a sight I’ve often seen before.
I sometimes wonder where they’ve been.
Before they’re caught by gravity
and forced to play their final scene
and burn out spectacularly.
Each one I’ve seen was similar
and yet unique in its own way
A meteor or shooting star.
In its last moments would display
its signature across the sky
A rather splendid way to die.

25-Mar-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Philosophy In My Mind

That idea in my mind is indispensable,
Thoughts conquer another man’s philosophy,
The ideal way of life contrives justice and scholarship.
May we tread in these puddles of knowledge,
Must we stammer, resolve or curse when hitting solutions?
The problems are bred by innocent helpers,
A penny spent excuses our anatomy,
And prison sells its shadow on us.
The idea, the idea will flow with rushing ones,
Philosophy argues and argues spectacularly.

poem by Naveed Akram
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A Life Of Sundays

Hold me!
Before I go under.
Hear me!
Before I drown.
Sharpen!
Your sense of wonder.
Listen!
To what Ive found.
Here we are again,
Two old lovers,
Two old friends,
Just when you need them.
A devil was standing on my shoes
Somehow I know how to defeat him
Since I tumbled into you.
You taught me love and pain,
And the unsung king or ireland
Says the same thing,
Wherever you find it.
(the whole world wide over)
The same thing from the same old cause.
The same thing - I cannot define it.
It is the same thing and it always was.
It struck me sad and strange,
All that ever stays the same
Is change...
...and I dreamed I wandered
Wayward as a restless wave.
Spanning from here to yonder
Most spectacularly saved.
Dream and life entwined,
The old day cracks and crumbles
And its
Fine!
To be in your company.
Funny!
To be in your day.
A miracle!
Just to be with you.
Glad!
To be going your way.
Were these unfolding plans
Designed and drawn by mortal hands?
Never in a life of sundays
Would I have seen me here.

song performed by Waterboys
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Young Girl Twenties

"It's not love, "
I said
"it's my Young Girl
caught in the glare of his attentions
basking, unable to look away,
held in the Grip of his Intensities
He's my Adventure
something which crashes into my need
to experience
beyond thought and feeling
larger than even
rationality."

"Have you asked him about his feelings"
she said, "about you? "

"I asked him" she said
"he didn't answer
couldn't articulate
Shrugging the Shrug
of the Twenty Something;
a Muted Muttering
about wanting to feel everything about me
push me to some limit
of my needs, my sexuality
my love, my fears
and I was a Faberge Egg
wanting him
to do all those things
be his accomplice
sooner or later to cry diamonds
when it is over."

My Young girl
wants it
wants to see if
and when
how I break
rebel or take
what he is offering.

I want to lay down with
that Danger
his Young Boy represents
imbibe all
its excitements
we both taking advantage
of Life's Reckless Expediency
the coin in trade of someone
like me in my twenties

[...] Read more

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Frightening Lady

Her name was of maturity in the snow,
Excitement, laziness and pride was correct;
And this afternoon she strolled across the falls
As the rocks beneath her emptied her tin and soul.

Like a tall woman the lady was afraid of the young dark,
In this watery place that stood out in rainbows and light;
Into the sea, in this ocean we spectacularly mean,
Little is done, little is explored while the dangers pass.

Her name was grand in the opening,
There was no particular danger, in this,
Losing me, and so fast, her hair stood out,
From the edge of the cliff, to frighten me.

poem by Naveed Akram
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The Naked Kiss

The most eloquent silence, that of two souls blending to kiss
What passionate expression, exhilarating to Heaven’s clouds
Bridging gaps, melting barriers, and feeling totally complete
Exchanging spirit-breathe, how invigorating and intoxicating
We are all mortals until the time gives way to a tender kiss
Feeling the rush of emotions trigger such heat of regeneration
Words unspoken ‘now breathed alive’ into life’s great infilling
When two souls touch it heightens the senses so spectacularly
Since the invention of the kiss none is so fiery as True-love
One’s noted signature is fine, but a sacrificial gift outlast this
Hence, a kiss of the sun for pardon and the song of birds for mirth
For even the Lord God Almighty bestows a kiss for souls on earth
Avoid vain stories, with your love, and always live truth’s reality
Life’s best is sealed with a kiss, sealed with a kiss for validity

poem by ArmourQuill Hunter
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After bathing in the first showers of priceless rain…

The most haplessly swishing of arid hair; suddenly metamorphosed into the most ravishingly titillating fronds of supreme ecstasy; after bathing in the first showers of golden rain; that so celestially tumbled from fathomless sky,

The most abjectly chapped lips; suddenly metamorphosed into the most lusciously pink lotus’s of voluptuous glory; after bathing in the first showers of priceless rain; that so unabashedly tumbled from enchanting sky,

The most drearily pulverized soles suddenly metamorphosed into the most exhilarating pathways of an intrepidly optimistic tomorrow; after bathing in the first showers of inimitable rain; that so peerlessly tumbled from ebullient sky,

The most deliriously thwarted of brains suddenly metamorphosed into the most spell bindingly intriguing civilizations of sparkling newness; after bathing in the first showers of voluptuous rain; that so majestically tumbled from triumphant sky,

The most exhaustedly flustered of palms suddenly metamorphosed into the most invincibly philanthropic pillars of united strength; after bathing in the first showers of exultating rain; that so uninhibitedly tumbled from infallible sky,

The most demonically constipated of bellies suddenly metamorphosed into the most vivaciously dancing fairies of the tantalizing night; after bathing in the first showers of inscrutable rain; that so poignantly tumbled from ubiquitous sky,

The most morosely sulking eyes suddenly metamorphosed into the most eternally fructifying cisterns of benign happiness; after bathing in the first showers of astounding rain; that so unwontedly tumbled from limitless sky,

The most dismally febrile and shivering teeth suddenly metamorphosed into the most immaculately amazing pearls of exuberance; after bathing in the first showers of royal rain; that so spectacularly tumbled from charismatic sky,

The most lividly deteriorating of pallid skins suddenly metamorphosed into the most miraculously proliferating nests of freshness; after bathing in the first showers of replenishing rain; that so magically tumbled from passionate sky,

The most discriminatingly bigoted of blood suddenly metamorphosed into the most unassailable waterfall of unshakably glorious humanity; after bathing in the first showers of effulgent rain; that so sensuously tumbled from undefeatable sky,

The most meaninglessly yawning of mouths suddenly metamorphosed into the most insuperably emollient heavens of creative energy; after bathing in the first showers of mesmerizing rain; that so seductively tumbled from resplendent sky,

The most disastrously flabbergasted of bones suddenly metamorphosed into the most handsomely unconquerable apogees of patriotism; after bathing in the first showers of virile rain; that so unrelentingly tumbled from unimpeachable sky,

The most despondently squelched of spines suddenly metamorphosed into the most compassionately electrifying beanstalks of sensitivity; after bathing in the first showers of fecund rain; that so indefatigably tumbled from vibrant sky,

The most barbarously robotic of fingers suddenly metamorphosed into the most invincibly burgeoning lanes of ubiquitous artistry; after bathing in the first showers of gregarious rain; that so unbelievably tumbled from azure sky,

The most pugnaciously commercial of destinies suddenly metamorphosed into the most unfathomably bewildering meadows of salivating desire; after bathing in the first showers of vivid rain; that so copiously tumbled from unending sky,

The most vindictively asphyxiated of ears suddenly metamorphosed into the most serenading labyrinths of intricate intimacy; after bathing in the first showers of ameliorating rain; that so fantastically tumbled from egalitarian sky,

The most dejectedly flailing of necks suddenly metamorphosed into the most excitedly reverberating summits of Everest; after bathing in the first showers of adventurous rain; that so effeminately tumbled from aristocratic sky,

The most pervertedly impotent of personalities suddenly metamorphosed into the most incessantly evolving oceans of godly fertility; after bathing in the first showers of Omnipotent rain; that so uncompromisingly tumbled from erudite sky,

And the most satanically betraying of hearts suddenly metamorphosed into the most perpetually blessing calendars of all-time immortal love; after bathing in the first showers of holistic rain; that so everlastingly tumbled from bountiful sky….

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Junle Law And Refusal To Forgive

When Israelis captured Eichmann and
decided they would put him up for trial
many people thought their conduct vile,
claiming Israel's acts were grossly out of hand.
The Washington Post said this was 'jungle law, '
while William Buckley called on Israel to
forgive its enemies. Arendt, a Jew,
called Hausner 'a Galician who knew
no languages.' No Jews would turn their cheek
towards the enemies not just outside,
but those within, and chose to override
complaints of those who said, 'We must be meek.'
Few understood the shift in paradigm
initiated by the judges, Jews
who were not merely plaintiffs who accuse,
but people justly punishing a crime.

This poem was written fifty years after execution of Adolf Eichmann, at around midnight on 5/31/62.

Franklin Foer, reviewing Deborah Lipstadt's The Eichmann Trial in the NYT,4/8/11 ('Why the Eichmann Trial Really Mattered') wrote:

To write about the trial of Adolf Eichmann is to put its most notorious court reporter, Hannah Arendt, in the dock. In the nearly 50 years since its publication, her account of those proceedings, 'Eichmann in Jerusalem, ' has come to overshadow its subject. The book, it is true, commands attention. It is a breathtaking admixture of genres (history, philosophy, journalism) and contains strong, often unconventional, moral judgments (especially her contempt for the Jewish leaders who cooperated with their murderers) . It aims to render grand historical conclusions but remains unintentionally and inescapably personal.

'The Eichmann Trial, ' by Deborah E. Lipstadt, can't entirely avoid Arendt, but it does manage to keep her largely offstage until the very end. Lipstadt has done a great service by untethering the trial from Arendt's polarizing presence, recovering the event as a gripping legal drama, as well as a hinge moment in Israel's history and in the world's delayed awakening to the magnitude of the Holocaust.
Aside from Eichmann's trial, in 1961, the Holocaust has been the subject of at least two other memorable legal battles. The first, of course, was the Nuremberg tribunals — proceedings that occurred amid the ruins of war and concentrated on the crimes of the Nazis, giving little voice to the still dazed survivors of the genocide. The second featured none other than Lipstadt herself. In 2000, she found herself the defendant in a British libel suit unsuccessfully brought by the writer David Irving, who protested her characterization of him as a Holocaust denier. This experience has made her a sensitive guide to the awkward complexities of squeezing the crimes of the Holocaust into the constricting confines of the courthouse.

The book begins with the daughter of an Argentine man dating the son of a German refugee. The Argentine man was himself German-born and half Jewish. Many fathers expect the worst from the boys their daughters bring home — but the man's suspicions about this one's family grew thanks to the boy's obvious anti-Semitism and his evasive answers to basic biographical questions. The man began to assume the worst and outlined his fears in a letter to a German prosecutor who happened to be Jewish. The prosecutor enlisted the man and his daughter in a stealth operation, and in the course of her snooping, the possibility arose that she was stalking Adolf Eichmann. When her father reported this astonishing finding to the prosecutor, he forwarded the tip to the Mossad, Israel's intelligence agency.
The Mossad wasn't initially enthusiastic. But once it grasped the importance of its target, it unleashed a risky kidnapping scheme, what Lipstadt describes as the prototype of the brash, clever operations that are the foundation of the Mossad's mythic reputation. The Israelis drugged Eichmann and dressed him as an El Al crewman to get him past the Argentine authorities.

Much of Western opinion, Lipstadt reminds us, was not pleased. Argentina demanded Eichmann's repatriation, and the American establishment agreed. The Washington Post editorial page condemned Israel's 'jungle law'; The Christian Science Monitor equated Israel's claims to those of the Nazis. William F. Buckley Jr. said the kidnapping was symptomatic of the Jewish 'refusal to forgive.' Even the American Jewish Committee asked the Israeli prime minister, David Ben-Gurion, to cede the prosecution to Germany or an international tribunal. But these challenges only made Ben-Gurion a more vociferous champion of the trial.

A principal villain of Arendt's book is Gideon Hausner, who had recently been installed as attorney general and who assigned himself the first chair in the prosecution. He was a strange choice for the job. There was little in his background as a commercial lawyer that suggested he had the courtroom skills to battle a cunning defendant, which Eichmann turned out to be. Indeed, Arendt accused Hausner of being more of a demagogic politician than a rule-abiding barrister. She disparaged his emotionalism and his aggressive effort to pin every crime of Nazi Germany on Eichmann. In one of her less-than-¬attractive letters from the trial, Arendt accused Hausner of having a 'ghetto mentality' and of being a 'typical Galician Jew,... one of those people who don't know any language.'…

It is always bracing to recall the world in which the Eichmann trial was held — where the slaughter was largely unacknowledged (and even unknown) . That's why Ben-Gurion and Hausner were spectacularly right to exploit the Eichmann prosecution for pedagogical purposes. They forced the Nazi genocide onto the front pages of the world's newspapers. Nearly 20 years after the fact, the Holocaust finally began to find a place in the public consciousness that reflected the size of the atrocity. (Indeed, the trial was largely responsible for making 'Holocaust' the universal term for the genocide.) Critics of the trial insinuated that the Israelis were somehow transgressing the bounds of fairness and justice by pressing these larger points. But Ben-Gurion and Hausner served precisely these goals by giving a voice to Eichmann's victims.

6/1/12 #10380

poem by Gershon Hepner
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When I wasn't breathing

When I wasn’t blissfully snoring; I was still inexhaustibly writing a
cistern of stupendously rhapsodic and gloriously majestic Immortal Love
Poetry,

When I wasn’t unsurpassably fantasizing; I was still inexhaustibly
writing a
garden of ingeniously magical and miraculously mitigating Immortal Love
Poetry,

When I wasn’t superbly adventuring; I was still inexhaustibly writing
an
ocean of bountifully resplendent and timelessly undefeated Immortal
Love
Poetry,

When I wasn’t scrumptiously relishing; I was still inexhaustibly
writing a
playground of optimistically enlightening and unbelievably royal
Immortal
Love Poetry,

When I wasn’t limitlessly triumphing; I was still inexhaustibly writing
a
cascade of beautifully panoramic and effulgently liberating Immortal
Love
Poetry,

When I wasn’t pricelessly smiling; I was still inexhaustibly writing a
lantern of unendingly vibrant and inscrutably tantalizing Immortal Love
Poetry,

When I wasn’t gloriously partying; I was still inexhaustibly writing a
paradise of eternally vivacious and pristinely redolent Immortal Love
Poetry,

When I wasn’t unassailably inspiring; I was still inexhaustibly writing
a
festoon of incredulously ameliorating and perpetually compassionate
Immortal
Love Poetry,

When I wasn’t magnanimously feasting; I was still inexhaustibly writing
a
cocoon of symbiotically philanthropic and ubiquitously coalescing
Immortal
Love Poetry,

When I wasn’t ebulliently fornicating; I was still inexhaustibly
writing a
mist of wonderfully reinvigorating and blessedly burgeoning Immortal

[...] Read more

poem by Nikhil Parekh
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