I was at dinner with Gene Wilder and imitated Ethel Barrymore for everyone.
quote by Dom DeLuise
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
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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Ethel And The Streaker (Fun Poem 82)
Based on characters created by Ray Stevens in his song The Streak.
Now Ethel was doing her shopping
with here friend Maizey-Be,
the local gossip of the community.
As they pushed their trolleys to the car
when someone shouted,
“Don’t look ladies! ”
It was too late;
Ethel looked and was moved on the spot.
Her mouth dropped open with absolute shock.
There darting across the car park
in all his naked glory with a saggy physic
was a streaker.
Maizey-Be saw him too
and fainted to the ground.
As fast as he came
the streaker was now gone.
Ethel was in the library
with her friend Maizey-Be,
the local gossip of the community.
They just picked a book from the shelf
when someone shouted,
“Don’t look Ladies.”
It was too late, Ethel already had an eye full
and was moved on the spot and dropped her book
the streaker came running
through the isle between the bookcases
in all his saggy glory.
Maizey-Be saw him too
and fainted on the floor
as the streaker rushed by
and disappeared out the door.
Ethel was at a baseball game
with her friend Maizey-Be,
the local gossip of the community.
As they watched, the batter hit a ball into out field
someone shouted,
“Ladies don’t look! ”
Too late, Ethel looked with her binoculars
and was moved on the spot.
The streaker was her beloved
husband Fred Trotalot.
He was showing everyone
more than she had seen in years
as he streaked around the diamond
to the home base.
[...] Read more
poem by David Harris
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Ethel Winterbottom
Ethel was an ugly girl
But this was not her fault;
It stemmed from drinking beer with men
While standing in the 'vault.'
A Winterbottom through and through,
At fighting she was good;
And thick brown stout ran through her veins
Instead of pure red blood.
Yes Ethel was a bruiser,
Just like her dear old dad;
Some people reckoned she
And all her family were mad.
Her tongue was like a bayonet
And she'd cut you to the quick
For any little trifle,
Such as calling Ethel thick.
The town that Ethel came from
Was born of jet-black coal;
A mining town in Lancashire,
A miner every soul.
Where life was hard and cruel
And you needed to be tough;
Where money was hard worked for
Amongst the jet-black stuff.
Men were very lucky
To reach old age round there;
To leave the pit come pension time,
With all your limbs, was rare.
Now Ethel had three sisters,
A father and a brother;
But living hard, and thick brown stout
Had taken Ethel's mother.
She'd had to grow up quickly
And learn to stand her ground;
No funny business was allowed
When Ethel was around.
She gave her brothers blow for blow
And curse for curse as well;
No man would better Ethel
Yes, she gave the miners hell.
[...] Read more
poem by John Carter Brown
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Wilder Wein
Wilder Wein-vor deinem Schloss
Wilder Wein-ich bin bereit
man meldet Ankunft-nur fuer den Koenig
Gott steh mir bei-und oeffne deine Tore
Wilder Wein-und ganz langsam
Wilder Wein-so warm und feucht
Wilder Wein-vor deinem Schloss
Wilder Wein-es steht geschrieben
tief im Wasser-kreuzt man nicht
doch mein Lust-verlacht die Fluegel
Wilder Wein-wie eineTaube
Wilder Wein-so nass und heiss
Wilder Wein-vor diesem Dunkel
Wilder Wein-von Licht geheilt
es bleibt verborgen-sonst koennten wir uns wehren
ich warte auf dich-am Ende der Nacht
Wilder Wein-nur eine Traube
Wilder Wein-und bitter wie Schnee
ich warte auf dich-am Ende der Nacht
ich warte auf dich-am Ende der Nacht
ich warte auf dich-am Ende der Nacht
ich warte auf dich-am Ende der Nacht
song performed by Rammstein
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~ Inaesthetic Global Pollution ~
~ INAESTHETIC GLOBAL POLLUTION ~
Ms. Nivedita
UK
18 March 18,2010.
================================= ===================
WHY READ THIS:
We need moral, aesthetic, biblio, audio, visual over all soul’s sanitization. It’s important and urgent and must be regarded as ‘Must Dos’.
I’m grateful to Respected Sr. Hon’ble Poet Dr. Subbhendu Kar for giving me kind permission to club this relevant comment with this poem.
Readers are requested to contemplate and excogitate this comment and give PH a soignée, suave, and tidy ambience and genius loci for humane face, 'mutual amour propre' and debonair outfit as the commentator like many expressed deep anguish and concern ~ niv
========================================= =================
Dr.subhendu Kar (3/19/2010 3: 48: 00 PM)
to one of the stunning rejoinder as i would like to express my displeasure by the unsavory, disgruntled yet heinous demeanor as when one faces at times while trudging on the path of day today life irrespective of any place, people, cast, creed or gender consideration,
yes of course that was there in stone age in most wild way in deep forest and we gradually evolved to a most refined homo sapiens because by the greater virtue of education, knowledge, wisdom, yet braced up by more rationality as on today by twenty first century,
but shockingly we still we find certain wild traits still inherent in certain species of mankind which is when most rueful yet stark appalling fact,
but by advent genetic science and the modern bio-technological tools it has been quite pregnant with possibility to clone a living organism or to alter undesired characteristics in man or any living organism even any kind of disease/ insanity in human population
according to desired characteristics scientist are in a way of progress to clone man of superb qualities for greater benevolence of society to make our posterity stable and disease free to a most unbelievable extent by completion of Human genome project and of course complete human gene mapping, it has been quite possible to locate the undesired gene or defunct leading to dysfunction of cell physiology that causes constant aberration in health system, so any abberated man can be re pared
at the same time by applying the different modern techniques biotechnology say for example of Recombinant DNA Technology, scientist are in position to cure any kind abnormal disease, or psychology in human health system by gene therapy, even by taking the help DNA-chips replacement for appropriate gene requirement in a biological system to find the solution to our age old human psychosis in the niche of human health, administration crime and peace in the society
, yet time is not far off, where it would be possible to prepare our heavenly humankind by cutting edges of human genetics by solve the very mystery of any kind of cancer in social system of population by insanity,
and i do condemn this misdemeanor by personal mudslinging among ourselves in any form in this global village, thanks for sharing
================================== ========================
Why:
Many Lurid
Salacious Vulgarvermis
Lowinstinct Lunatics
Pampering Nurturing
Uncontrolled Libido Airing
Inaesthetic Global Pollution
The Psychopath Sadist
Uninhibited ID
On continuous
Contemplation Belowbeltline. [1]
Polluting Familylife
Streetlife Tubelfe
Malllife Internetlife
Clublife Bedroomlife
Officelife Ho-Life
In Hitlist Targetlist
We Women Are In. [2]
Like MadDogSyndrome
Libertinism Promiscuous
[...] Read more
poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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The Odyssey: Book 17
When the child of morning, rosy-fingered Dawn, appeared,
Telemachus bound on his sandals and took a strong spear that suited
his hands, for he wanted to go into the city. "Old friend," said he to
the swineherd, "I will now go to the town and show myself to my
mother, for she will never leave off grieving till she has seen me. As
for this unfortunate stranger, take him to the town and let him beg
there of any one who will give him a drink and a piece of bread. I
have trouble enough of my own, and cannot be burdened with other
people. If this makes him angry so much the worse for him, but I
like to say what I mean."
Then Ulysses said, "Sir, I do not want to stay here; a beggar can
always do better in town than country, for any one who likes can
give him something. I am too old to care about remaining here at the
beck and call of a master. Therefore let this man do as you have
just told him, and take me to the town as soon as I have had a warm by
the fire, and the day has got a little heat in it. My clothes are
wretchedly thin, and this frosty morning I shall be perished with
cold, for you say the city is some way off."
On this Telemachus strode off through the yards, brooding his
revenge upon the When he reached home he stood his spear against a
bearing-post of the cloister, crossed the stone floor of the
cloister itself, and went inside.
Nurse Euryclea saw him long before any one else did. She was putting
the fleeces on to the seats, and she burst out crying as she ran up to
him; all the other maids came up too, and covered his head and
shoulders with their kisses. Penelope came out of her room looking
like Diana or Venus, and wept as she flung her arms about her son. She
kissed his forehead and both his beautiful eyes, "Light of my eyes,"
she cried as she spoke fondly to him, "so you are come home again; I
made sure I was never going to see you any more. To think of your
having gone off to Pylos without saying anything about it or obtaining
my consent. But come, tell me what you saw."
"Do not scold me, mother,' answered Telemachus, "nor vex me,
seeing what a narrow escape I have had, but wash your face, change
your dress, go upstairs with your maids, and promise full and
sufficient hecatombs to all the gods if Jove will only grant us our
revenge upon the suitors. I must now go to the place of assembly to
invite a stranger who has come back with me from Pylos. I sent him
on with my crew, and told Piraeus to take him home and look after
him till I could come for him myself."
She heeded her son's words, washed her face, changed her dress,
and vowed full and sufficient hecatombs to all the gods if they
would only vouchsafe her revenge upon the suitors.
Telemachus went through, and out of, the cloisters spear in hand-
not alone, for his two fleet dogs went with him. Minerva endowed him
with a presence of such divine comeliness that all marvelled at him as
he went by, and the suitors gathered round him with fair words in
their mouths and malice in their hearts; but he avoided them, and went
to sit with Mentor, Antiphus, and Halitherses, old friends of his
father's house, and they made him tell them all that had happened to
[...] Read more
poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Blue Jean Bop
(VincentLevy)
Bluejean baby, with your big blue eyes
Don't want you looking at other guys
Got to make you give me, one more chance
I can't keep still, so baby let's dance
Well the bluejean bop is the bop for me
It's the bop that's done in a dungaree
You flip your hip, free your knee
Squeel on your heel baby, one to three
Well the bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, baby won't you bop with Gene. (Bop Blue Caps, Bop)
Well bluejean baby when I bop with you
Well my heart starts hoppin' like a kangaroo
My feet do things they never done before
Well bluejean baby, give me more more more
Well the bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, baby won't you bop with Gene. (Rock again Blue Caps, Go)
Well the bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, baby won't you bop with Gene.
(Blue Caps, bop with Gene, Let's go)
Well the bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, bluejean bop
Oh baby, bluejean bop, baby won't you bop with Gene.
song performed by Paul McCartney
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Duet
Milestone:
All my troubles disappear,
When the dinner-bell I hear,
Over woodland, dale, and fell,
Swinging slow with solemn swell,---
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!
Hippy:
What can bid my heart-ache fly?
What can bid my heart-ache die?
What can all the ills dispel,
In my morbid frame that dwell?
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!
Both:
Hark!---along the tangled ground,
Loudly floats the pleasing sound!
Sportive Fauns to Dryads tell,
'Tis the cheerful dinner-bell!
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!
poem by Thomas Love Peacock
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One Me
Chorus
There can only be one me(cant nobody cant nobody do your body like me)
2x
Verse 1
I wanna make you moann
Do it all night long
Once I get you home
Baby girl its on
Im gonna kiss yo lips
Then Im gonna raise yo slip
Im gonna take your hand
And let you feel these ribs
Im a winner, Im a winner, Im a winner
Im a winner in bed
Go to dinner, go to dinner, go to dinner
Go to dinner in bed
Listen babe,
(chorus)
There can only be one me(cant nobody cant nobody do your body like me)
2x
Verse 2
I wanna show you love
From the bottom up
Once the light goes off
You cant get enough
I wanna be yo man
Not a one night stand
And if you take my hand
I bet 1 hundred grand
Im a winner, Im a winner, Im a winner
Im a winner in bed, yes I am
Go to dinner, go to dinner, go to dinner
And the dinner in bed, there can only be
(chorus)
There can only be one me(cant nobody cant nobody do your body like me)
2x
Verse 3
Girl open your dictionary look under love
And your gonna see my face
Come to bed right now lets cover up
Nothin but sweat comin between us in this place
(chorus)
There can only be one me(cant nobody cant nobody do your body like me)
2x
Verse 4
Do ya wanna be, do ya wanna be, do ya wanna be, do ya wanna be
Wanna be with me tonight
Do ya wanna see, do ya wanna see, do ya wanna see, do ya wanna see
How Im gonna do yo body right
Do ya wanna go, do ya wanna go, do ya wanna go, do ya wanna go
[...] Read more
song performed by R. Kelly
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Canto the Thirteenth
I
I now mean to be serious; -- it is time,
Since laughter now-a-days is deem'd too serious.
A jest at Vice by Virtue's call'd a crime,
And critically held as deleterious:
Besides, the sad's a source of the sublime,
Although when long a little apt to weary us;
And therefore shall my lay soar high and solemn,
As an old temple dwindled to a column.
II
The Lady Adeline Amundeville
('T is an old Norman name, and to be found
In pedigrees, by those who wander still
Along the last fields of that Gothic ground)
Was high-born, wealthy by her father's will,
And beauteous, even where beauties most abound,
In Britain -- which of course true patriots find
The goodliest soil of body and of mind.
III
I'll not gainsay them; it is not my cue;
I'll leave them to their taste, no doubt the best:
An eye's an eye, and whether black or blue,
Is no great matter, so 't is in request,
'T is nonsense to dispute about a hue --
The kindest may be taken as a test.
The fair sex should be always fair; and no man,
Till thirty, should perceive there's a plain woman.
IV
And after that serene and somewhat dull
Epoch, that awkward corner turn'd for days
More quiet, when our moon's no more at full,
We may presume to criticise or praise;
Because indifference begins to lull
Our passions, and we walk in wisdom's ways;
Also because the figure and the face
Hint, that 't is time to give the younger place.
V
I know that some would fain postpone this era,
Reluctant as all placemen to resign
Their post; but theirs is merely a chimera,
For they have pass'd life's equinoctial line:
But then they have their claret and Madeira
To irrigate the dryness of decline;
And county meetings, and the parliament,
And debt, and what not, for their solace sent.
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Don Juan: Canto The Thirteenth
I now mean to be serious;--it is time,
Since laughter now-a-days is deem'd too serious.
A jest at Vice by Virtue's call'd a crime,
And critically held as deleterious:
Besides, the sad's a source of the sublime,
Although when long a little apt to weary us;
And therefore shall my lay soar high and solemn,
As an old temple dwindled to a column.
The Lady Adeline Amundeville
('Tis an old Norman name, and to be found
In pedigrees, by those who wander still
Along the last fields of that Gothic ground)
Was high-born, wealthy by her father's will,
And beauteous, even where beauties most abound,
In Britain - which of course true patriots find
The goodliest soil of body and of mind.
I'll not gainsay them; it is not my cue;
I'll leave them to their taste, no doubt the best:
An eye's an eye, and whether black or blue,
Is no great matter, so 'tis in request,
'Tis nonsense to dispute about a hue -
The kindest may be taken as a test.
The fair sex should be always fair; and no man,
Till thirty, should perceive there 's a plain woman.
And after that serene and somewhat dull
Epoch, that awkward corner turn'd for days
More quiet, when our moon's no more at full,
We may presume to criticise or praise;
Because indifference begins to lull
Our passions, and we walk in wisdom's ways;
Also because the figure and the face
Hint, that 'tis time to give the younger place.
I know that some would fain postpone this era,
Reluctant as all placemen to resign
Their post; but theirs is merely a chimera,
For they have pass'd life's equinoctial line:
But then they have their claret and Madeira
To irrigate the dryness of decline;
And county meetings, and the parliament,
And debt, and what not, for their solace sent.
And is there not religion, and reform,
Peace, war, the taxes, and what's call'd the 'Nation'?
The struggle to be pilots in a storm?
The landed and the monied speculation?
The joys of mutual hate to keep them warm,
[...] Read more

Wolves, Lower
Suspicion yourself, suspicion yourself, dont get caught.
Suspicion yourself, suspicion yourself, let us out.
Wilder lower wolves. heres a house to put wolves out the door.
In a corner garden, wilder lower wolves.
House in order. house in order. house in order. house in order.
Down there theyre rounding a posse to ride.
(repeat verse)
Suspicion yourself, suspicion yourself, dont get caught.
Suspicion yourself, suspicion yourself, suspicion us all.
Wilder lower wolves. heres a house to put wolves out the door.
In a corner garden, wilder lower wolves.
House in order. house in order. house in order. house in order.
Down there theyre rounding a posse to ride.
song performed by REM
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Adrenaline
You don't feel the pain
Too much is not enough
Nobody said this stuff makes any sense
We're hooked again
Point of no return
See how the buildings burn
Light up the night
Such pretty sight
Adrenaline keeps me in the game
Adrenaline you don't even feel the pain
Wilder than your wildest dreams
When you're going to extremes
It takes adrenaline
(You don't feel the pain)
Sail through an empty night
It's only you and I who understand
There is no plan
Get closer to the thrill
Only time will kill
What's in your eyes
Is so alive
Adrenaline keeps me in the game
Adrenaline you don't even feel the pain
Wilder than your wildest dreams
When you're going to extremes
It takes adrenaline
Run through the speed of sound
Every thing slows you down
And all color that surrounds you
Are bleeding to the walls
All the things you really need
Just wait to find the speed
Then you will achieve
Escape velocity
Too much is not enough
Nobody gave it up
I'm not the kind
To lay down and die
Adrenaline
keeps me in the game
Adrenaline
[...] Read more
song performed by Gavin Rossdale
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The Shepherds Calendar - July
Daughter of pastoral smells and sights
And sultry days and dewy nights
July resumes her yearly place
Wi her milking maiden face
Ruddy and tand yet sweet to view
When everywhere's a vale of dew
And raps it round her looks that smiles
A lovly rest to daily toils
Wi last months closing scenes and dins
Her sultry beaming birth begins
Hay makers still in grounds appear
And some are thinning nearly clear
Save oddly lingering shocks about
Which the tithman counteth out
Sticking their green boughs where they go
The parsons yearly claims to know
Which farmers view wi grudging eye
And grumbling drive their waggons bye
In hedge bound close and meadow plains
Stript groups of busy bustling swains
From all her hants wi noises rude
Drives to the wood lands solitude
That seeks a spot unmarkd wi paths
Far from the close and meadow swaths
Wi smutty song and story gay
They cart the witherd smelling hay
Boys loading on the waggon stand
And men below wi sturdy hand
Heave up the shocks on lathy prong
While horse boys lead the team along
And maidens drag the rake behind
Wi light dress shaping to the wind
And trembling locks of curly hair
And snow white bosoms nearly bare
That charms ones sight amid the hay
Like lingering blossoms of the may
From clowns rude jokes they often turn
And oft their cheeks wi blushes burn
From talk which to escape a sneer
They oft affect as not to hear
Some in the nooks about the ground
Pile up the stacks swelld bellying round
The milking cattles winter fare
That in the snow are fodderd there
Warm spots wi black thorn thickets lind
And trees to brake the northern wind
While masters oft the sultry hours
Will urge their speed and talk of showers
When boy from home trotts to the stack
[...] Read more
poem by John Clare
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Enter Into Her World
Enter into the world so sweet!
The world full of names to crown the day;
Enter into the world so sweet!
Ethel is your name so sweet for an identity.
You are the window of my heart,
You are the joy of my taste;
Just like an apple-pie on acreamed cake.
Enter into the world so sweet,
Just like trying Pawpaw with Rice and Chicken!
The world that emits true love to us all;
Oh, what a beautiful world full of names.
Like Ethel in the order of love,
Enter into her world so sweet like,
The low-tides and the high-tides;
Enter into her world so sweet!
Oh earth, hear the echoes of my joy to meet her;
Love emitting from the highlands of Mile-Eleven.
Enter into her world so sweet like,
True love emitting from McCarty Hill! !
Enter into her parlour to meet her true love.
She has a message for you and i,
So enter into her world so sweet;
Like a true lover among the names.
Who said it was not possible?
When, impossibilities are made possible!
Who said that, she will not reply?
When, her heart yearns for love;
Like a mango tree next to an apple tree.
Far beyond her scope is her vision of love,
Moving to and fro in search of a landing pad;
If it isn't love then,
Why will you enter into her parlour?
Far beyond the scope are hills and mountains to pass by.
Like Mount Kilimanjaro to Mount Afajato is,
Her game of love to call by;
So, embrace her kindness and guide her on.
Like the paradise cream of Acapulco Bay,
Hanging in a distance is the echoes of her love;
Yes, the future is the better place to live in.
Enter into her world so sweet with your muse,
Where the future is still unknown;
Exchanging from the past to the present.
A sweet poem for her love,
A sweet muse of her love,
Like Dragon and Tiger from the far East! !
[...] Read more
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Ethel And Edward
My mind is as fast as the bullet-train and,
My cat is as hairy as Esau;
But my ideas are as thinkable as the scientists,
So why do you want to be a beneficence to human nature?
What do i have to eat when there isn't much left for me?
For you are Ethel and i am Edward;
And like the muse of your love that was exposed to me.
What kind of food do you eat?
What type of car do you drive?
What is the taste of your muse?
What is the colour of your house?
What is the measure of your love?
Is it natural, herbal or spiritual?
For the world around us is chainging,
And whatever is offered is received with lyrical gratitude.
Ethel and Edward,
And of the flashes of the light and the darkness of the night;
But it cannot be easy always in this life,
However the spirit of love is moving on to satisfy us on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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New Year's Eve
It's cruel cold on the water-front, silent and dark and drear;
Only the black tide weltering, only the hissing snow;
And I, alone, like a storm-tossed wreck, on this night of the glad New Year,
Shuffling along in the icy wind, ghastly and gaunt and slow.
They're playing a tune in McGuffy's saloon, and it's cheery and bright in there
(God! but I'm weak -- since the bitter dawn, and never a bite of food);
I'll just go over and slip inside -- I mustn't give way to despair --
Perhaps I can bum a little booze if the boys are feeling good.
They'll jeer at me, and they'll sneer at me, and they'll call me a whiskey soak;
("Have a drink? Well, thankee kindly, sir, I don't mind if I do.")
A drivelling, dirty, gin-joint fiend, the butt of the bar-room joke;
Sunk and sodden and hopeless -- "Another? Well, here's to you!"
McGuffy is showing a bunch of the boys how Bob Fitzsimmons hit;
The barman is talking of Tammany Hall, and why the ward boss got fired.
I'll just sneak into a corner and they'll let me alone a bit;
The room is reeling round and round . . .O God! but I'm tired, I'm tired. . . .
* * * * *
Roses she wore on her breast that night. Oh, but their scent was sweet!
Alone we sat on the balcony, and the fan-palms arched above;
The witching strain of a waltz by Strauss came up to our cool retreat,
And I prisoned her little hand in mine, and I whispered my plea of love.
Then sudden the laughter died on her lips, and lowly she bent her head;
And oh, there came in the deep, dark eyes a look that was heaven to see;
And the moments went, and I waited there, and never a word was said,
And she plucked from her bosom a rose of red and shyly gave it to me.
Then the music swelled to a crash of joy, and the lights blazed up like day,
And I held her fast to my throbbing heart, and I kissed her bonny brow.
"She is mine, she is mine for evermore!" the violins seemed to say,
And the bells were ringing the New Year in -- O God! I can hear them now.
Don't you remember that long, last waltz, with its sobbing, sad refrain?
Don't you remember that last good-by, and the dear eyes dim with tears?
Don't you remember that golden dream, with never a hint of pain,
Of lives that would blend like an angel-song in the bliss of the coming years?
Oh, what have I lost! What have I lost! Ethel, forgive, forgive!
The red, red rose is faded now, and it's fifty years ago.
'Twere better to die a thousand deaths than live each day as I live!
I have sinned, I have sunk to the lowest depths -- but oh, I have suffered so!
Hark! Oh, hark! I can hear the bells! . . . Look! I can see her there,
Fair as a dream . . . but it fades . . . And now -- I can hear the dreadful hum
Of the crowded court . . . See! the Judge looks down . . .
[...] Read more
poem by Robert William Service
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The Odyssey: Book 15
But Minerva went to the fair city of Lacedaemon to tell Ulysses' son
that he was to return at once. She found him and Pisistratus
sleeping in the forecourt of Menelaus's house; Pisistratus was fast
asleep, but Telemachus could get no rest all night for thinking of his
unhappy father, so Minerva went close up to him and said:
"Telemachus, you should not remain so far away from home any longer,
nor leave your property with such dangerous people in your house; they
will eat up everything you have among them, and you will have been
on a fool's errand. Ask Menelaus to send you home at once if you
wish to find your excellent mother still there when you get back.
Her father and brothers are already urging her to marry Eurymachus,
who has given her more than any of the others, and has been greatly
increasing his wedding presents. I hope nothing valuable may have been
taken from the house in spite of you, but you know what women are-
they always want to do the best they can for the man who marries them,
and never give another thought to the children of their first husband,
nor to their father either when he is dead and done with. Go home,
therefore, and put everything in charge of the most respectable
woman servant that you have, until it shall please heaven to send
you a wife of your own. Let me tell you also of another matter which
you had better attend to. The chief men among the suitors are lying in
wait for you in the Strait between Ithaca and Samos, and they mean
to kill you before you can reach home. I do not much think they will
succeed; it is more likely that some of those who are now eating up
your property will find a grave themselves. Sail night and day, and
keep your ship well away from the islands; the god who watches over
you and protects you will send you a fair wind. As soon as you get
to Ithaca send your ship and men on to the town, but yourself go
straight to the swineherd who has charge your pigs; he is well
disposed towards you, stay with him, therefore, for the night, and
then send him to Penelope to tell her that you have got back safe from
Pylos."
Then she went back to Olympus; but Telemachus stirred Pisistratus
with his heel to rouse him, and said, "Wake up Pisistratus, and yoke
the horses to the chariot, for we must set off home."
But Pisistratus said, "No matter what hurry we are in we cannot
drive in the dark. It will be morning soon; wait till Menelaus has
brought his presents and put them in the chariot for us; and let him
say good-bye to us in the usual way. So long as he lives a guest
should never forget a host who has shown him kindness."
As he spoke day began to break, and Menelaus, who had already risen,
leaving Helen in bed, came towards them. When Telemachus saw him he
put on his shirt as fast as he could, threw a great cloak over his
shoulders, and went out to meet him. "Menelaus," said he, "let me go
back now to my own country, for I want to get home."
And Menelaus answered, "Telemachus, if you insist on going I will
not detain you. not like to see a host either too fond of his guest or
too rude to him. Moderation is best in all things, and not letting a
man go when he wants to do so is as bad as telling him to go if he
would like to stay. One should treat a guest well as long as he is
[...] Read more
poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Meet Me After Dinner
Meet me after dinner.
After all has been dished and served!
Meet me after dinner here...
If you have the nerve!
My ex-wife is a memory,
And my boyfriend has long been gone.
Only they could bring that 'freak' out of me...
That sweet freak!
Others deny and hide discreetly,
As they get their own groove on.
~Day and night long!
Not caring who says,
What they share is wrong! ~
Yeah...
You meet me after dinner.
I can picture you gnawing,
On those big beef bones!
Finish what you're doing.
I'm the one you should be screwing.
Meet me after dinner here...
And let's stop faking,
We don't desire naked love making.
Meet me after dinner,
And release those phone moans.
Your mate doesn't hear,
Or care who's heart is breaking!
Since I yearn for you,
With me alone!
Nibbling on your neck,
I want to hear you coo...
In licked whispers
Sighing,
In passionate delicious croons.
I do. Yes..I do.
Reflected in silhouette,
Our beads of sweat glistens.
Under the glow of the moon!
Meet me after dinner...
And I'll have dessert,
Perked and ready...
In the master bedroom!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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What Would You Like
Tell me you name, tell me your sign.
Please tell me that my mind is right.
I just want to take you to my home.
Where we can talk by a fire all alone.
There's just one thing that I need to know.
Could you ever be there when I woke up,
Or will you be just another and be gone?
Should I buy you a dozen roses?
Should I write you a love poem,
Of how my heart can't stop beating for you?
Should I take you to a lakeside with a romantic dinner?
Would you like candle light flickering in front of us?
Would you like the lovely words that could roll off my tongue?
Would you like me to express how much you mean to me?
Would you like that soft romantic music in the background?
I take one look at you and my heart can't stop smiling.
It begins to display on the outside and my lips curl up.
Looking at you from across the void I can see my life with you.
You take a glance at me and can't help but notice to.
I walk around the corner and fade out of your sight.
I love playing this game.
Should I buy you a dozen roses?
Should I write you a love poem,
Of how my heart can't stop beating for you?
Should I take you to a lakeside with a romantic dinner?
Would you like candle light flickering in front of us?
Would you like the lovely words that could roll off my tongue?
Would you like me to express how much you mean to me?
Would you like that soft romantic music in the background?
You chase me around the corner at the end of the aisle.
And we both meet each other eye to eye.
My hands behind my back.
Can you guess what I've got in mind.
Oh I think you'll be suprized.
You look at me and begin to smile.
Should I buy you a dozen roses?
Should I write you a love poem,
Of how my heart can't stop beating for you?
Should I take you to a lakeside with a romantic dinner?
Would you like candle light flickering in front of us?
Would you like the lovely words that could roll off my tongue?
Would you like me to express how much you mean to me?
Would you like that soft romantic music in the background?
I see the moonlight fall across your face as you sleep.
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poem by Josh Burnett
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