Studying cows, pigs and chickens can help an actor develop his character. There are a lot of things I learned from animals. One was that they couldn't hiss or boo me.
quote by James Dean
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Related quotes
Old Gold Diggin' Geezer
Peek a boo doo peek a boo doo,
Peek a boo doo boo!
Poppa dada poppa.
Poppa dada poppa.
Peek a boo doo peek a boo doo,
Peek a boo doo boo!
Poppa dada poppa.
Poppa dada poppa.
You just wanna ride in my car.
Poppa dada poppa.
Poppa dada poppa.
And take you to places to feed your greedness.
Poppa dada poppa.
Poppa dada poppa.
Peek a boo doo peek a boo doo,
Peek a boo doo boo!
Poppa dada poppa.
Poppa dada poppa.
You just wanna have an easy life.
Poppa dada poppa.
Poppa dada poppa.
And you think I'm the one gon' give it!
Poppa dada poppa.
Poppa dada poppa.
Peek a boo doo peek a boo doo,
Peek a boo doo boo!
Poppa dada poppa.
Poppa dada poppa.
You ain't got a mortgage or a lease on me.
None that we've agreed upon.
And none that you can see.
You ain't got a ring or a title to keep me leashed up tight.
And what you think I've got,
You're not gonna get that close to take a bite!
With or without your teeth behind your 'grill'...
You old gold diggin' geezer!
Peek a boo doo peek a boo doo,
Peek a boo doo boo!
Poppa dada poppa.
Poppa dada poppa.
Peek a boo doo peek a boo doo,
Peek a boo doo boo!
Poppa dada poppa.
Poppa dada poppa.
You just wanna ride in my car.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Lord, What Is This About?
Boo doo doo boop.
Boo doo doo boop.
Boo doo doo boop.
Boo doo doo boop.
Boo doo doo boop.
There are times when I,
Understand...
And,
Then there come those times when I don't think I can.
Boo doo doo boop.
Boo doo doo boop.
Boo doo doo boop.
Boo doo doo boop.
Boo doo doo boop.
Boo doo doo...
There are times when I,
Understand...
And,
Then there come those times when I don't think I can.
Boo doo doo boop.
Boo doo doo boop.
Boo doo doo...
Then I find myself alone just weeping out my eyes for people.
Lord...
What is this about?
Then I find myself alone just weeping out my eyes for people.
Lord...
What is this about?
Boo doo doo boop.
Boo doo doo boop.
Boo doo doo...
Lord...
What is this about?
Boo doo doo boop.
Boo doo doo boop.
Boo doo doo...
Lord...
What is this about?
Then I find myself alone just weeping out my eyes for people.
Lord...
What is this about?
Then I find myself alone just weeping out my eyes for people.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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100 STD's 10,000 MTD's
There are STD's, sexually transmitted diseases.
and then there are MTD's, meat transmitted diseases.
The latter take a lot more lives.
*********
In Animal Flesh: Blood Sweat Tears as well as Carcinogens Cholesterol Colon Bacteria
Animal products kill more people annually in the US than
tobacco, alcohol, traffic accidents, war, domestic violence,
guns, and drugs combined. USAMRID wrote that consumption of pig flesh caused the world's most lethal pandemic in WW1,
euphemistically called flu. Anthrax
used to be called wool sorters'
disease. Smallpox used to be called
cow pox or kine pox because of
its origin in animal flesh.
.
WHAT'S IN A BURGER? BLOOD SWEAT AND TEARS (AS WELL AS BIOTERRORISM)
POISONS IN ANIMAL AND FISH FLESH... A PARTIAL LIST
a partial list in alphabetical order
acidification diseases
addiction (to trioxypurines)
adrenalin (secreted by terrorized
animals before and during slaughter)
ANTIBIOTICS (too many to list) (crowded factory farm animals standing in their own feces are often infected)
BACTERIA
creiophilic bacteria survive
the freezing of animal flesh
thermophilic bacteria survive
the baking boiling and roasting
bacteriophages (viruses FDA allows to
be injected)
blood
colon bacteria.. euphemistically
called ecoli animals defecate
all over themselves in terror
John Harvey Kellogg MD studied
the exponential rate into the billions
BSE DISEASES, PRIONS IN SPECIES FROM GELATIN (JELLO ETC)
Mad Chicken
[...] Read more
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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The Great Pig Story of the Tweed
“Hands off, old man!” the young man cried—
They stood beside the Tweed,
Where still the name of Murder Creek
Records some bloody deed.
The old man seized the hapless youth,
With frantic grasp and rough,
By what is popularly called
(But vulgarly) the scruff;
And shouted as he twirled him round,
And shook him to and fro,
“Was them consignments pigs? . . Great Scott!
Was them things pigs or no?”
Wild-eyed and gaunt, and grim he stood,
Beneath the scorching noon,—
Cantharides P. Roebuck, late
Of the steamboat Arakoon.
He was an ancient mariner,
A Yankee skipper he,
Whom winds of adverse destiny
Had blown across the sea;—
Whom hither still had Fate pursued,
And served with many a trick,
Till now he roamed the Tweed a one-
Idea'd lunatic;—
Whom all men shunned, for whosoe'er
Upon his beat might chance,
Was bound to hear his tale in each
Minutest circumstance.
A tale that haunted such as heard,
Nor left them night or day;
A torturing enigma, too,
That turned their wits astray;—
For ofttimes they, like him who told,
Would vaguely wandering go,
And cry, “Was them consignments pigs?
Was them things pigs or no?”
“Hands off!” again the young man cried.
“It's this way, boss, you see,
We've come a stretch of thirty mile,
Her uncle, her, an' me.
[...] Read more
poem by James Brunton Stephens
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My Boo
My Boo"
(feat. Alicia Keys)
[Usher intro:]
There's always that one person
That will always have your heart
You'll never see it coming
Cause you're blinded from the start
Know that you're that one for me
It's clear for everyone to see
Ooh baby ooh you'll always be my boo
[Alicia intro:]
I don't know bout cha'll
But I know about us and uh
This is the only way
We know how to rock
I don't know bout cha'll
But I know about us and uh
This is the only way
We know how to rock
[Usher Verse:]
Do you remember girl
I was the one who gave you your first kiss
Cause I remember girl
I was the one who said put your lips like this
Even before all the fame and
People screaming your name
Girl I was there when you were my baby
[Chorus:]
[Usher:]
It started when we were younger
You were mine my boo
Now another brother's taking over
But its still in your eyes my boo
Even though we used to argue it's alright
I know we haven't seen each other
In awhile but you will always be my boo
[Alicia:]
I was in love with you when we were younger
You were mine my boo
And I see it from time to time
I still feel like my boo
And I can see it no matter
How I try to hide my boo
Even though there's another man who's in my life
You will always be my boo
[Alicia Verse:]
Yes I remember boy
Cause after we kissed
I could only think about your lips
Yes I remember boy
[...] Read more
song performed by Usher
Added by Lucian Velea
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Help Me Ronda
Well since she put me down I 've been out doin' in my head
Come in late at night and in the mornin' I just lay in bed
Well, Ronda you look so fine (look so fine)
And I know it wouldn't take much time
For you to help me Ronda
Help me get her out of my heart
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda yeah
Get her out of my heart
She was gonna be my wife
And I was gonna be her man
But she let another guy come between us
And it ruined our plan
Well, Ronda you caught my eye (caught my eye)
And I can give you lotsa reasons why
You gotta help me Ronda
Help me get her out of my heart
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda yeah
Get her out of my heart
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
Help me Ronda
Help, help me Ronda
[...] Read more
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Help Me, Rhonda
Well since she put me down Ive been out doin in my head
Come in late at night and in the mornin I just lay in bed
Well, rhonda you look so fine (look so fine)
And I know it wouldnt take much time
For you to help me rhonda
Help me get her out of my heart
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda yeah
Get her out of my heart
She was gonna be my wife
And I was gonna be her man
But she let another guy come between us
And it ruined our plan
Well, rhonda you caught my eye (caught my eye)
And I can give you lotsa reasons why
You gotta help me rhonda
Help me get her out of my heart
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda yeah
Get her out of my heart
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
Help me rhonda
Help, help me rhonda
[...] Read more
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Booty-Boo-Doo-The Caboose
I'm not going to hide,
Any love you see this evening.
I'm much too needing on my side...
And I want it known as shown,
I've come with... some pride.
I'm not going to hide inside of me,
This evening.
Too much I let collect in dust.
And too much I don't want to get rusty.
I've got enough in me to boot and hoot.
It doesn't matter if my ladder,
Can get up to reach the roof!
I know my ladder apparatus,
And it's there to give a boost.
Booty-boo-doo-the caboose.
I know my ladder apparatus,
And it's there to give a boost.
Booty-boo-doo-the caboose.
I know my ladder apparatus,
And it's there to give a boost.
Booty-boo-doo-the cabooster.
Booty-boo-doo-the caboose.
Booty-boo-doo-the cabooster.
Booty-boo-doo-the caboose.
Booty-boo-doo-the cabooster.
I know my ladder apparatus,
And it's there to give a boost.
I'm not going to hide inside of me,
This evening.
Too much I let collect in dust.
And too much I don't want to get rusty.
I've got enough in me to boot and hoot.
Booty-boo-doo-the cabooster.
I know my ladder apparatus,
And it's there to give a boost.
I know my ladder apparatus,
And it's there to give a boost.
Booty-boo-doo-the cabooster.
Booty-boo-doo-the caboose.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Throw Them Back To The Wolves
Throw them back to the wolves.
The ones released from cellblock envy.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Those who love their crime defined.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Those who break laws all the time.
With nothing but 'bling' on their minds.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Trouble makers showing butt.
Groom to believe they should give it up.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Victims of their own disguises.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Raised on 'rap' and packing 'heat'.
Dimmed with wit is their destiny...
This was how they were raised to be.
Detoxed and recovered.
From baubles, beads and bangles hanging.
Some don't want to have another...
Victimizing chain of gold,
To prove to anyone they're bold.
Leaving streets to the others.
Those who choose to do their 'thing'
From swagger punted schoolyard swings...
And learning from demented idols.
Who could care less who is destressed.
Throw them back to the wolves.
The ones released from cellblock envy.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Those who love their crime defined.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Those who break laws all the time.
With nothing but 'bling' on their minds.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Trouble makers showing butt.
Groom to believe they should give it up.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Victims of their own disguises.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Raised on 'rap' and packing 'heat'.
Dimmed with wit is their destiny...
This was how they were raised to be.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Boo doo doo boo doo boo boo doo.
Throw them back to the wolves.
Boo doo boo doo boo do boo do!
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Peek-A-Boo
The cunningest thing that a baby can do
Is the very first time it plays peek-a-boo;
When it hides its pink little face in its hands,
And crows, and shows that it understands
What nurse, and mamma and papa, too,
Mean when they hide and cry, 'Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.'
Oh, what a wonderful thing it is,
When they find that baby can play like this;
And everyone listens, and thinks it true
That baby's gurgle means 'Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo';
And over and over the changes are rung
On the marvelous infant who talks so young.
I wonder if any one ever knew
A baby that never played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.
'Tis old as the hills are. I believe
Cain was taught it by Mother Eve;
For Cain was an innocent baby, too,
And I am sure he played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.
And the whole world full of the children of men,
Have all of them played that game since then.
Kings and princes and beggars, too,
Everyone has played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.
Thief and robber and ruffian bold,
The crazy tramp and the drunkard old,
All have been babies who laughed and knew
How to hide, and play peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Can I Get a Witness?
If people are not reading...
That does not mean,
A comprehension is not welcomed.
If they are not feeding,
From beliefs...
They too are qualified,
To allow thinking to be done!
And as this ignorance is toasted and spread...
By some who are fed,
They can only achieve by keeping suppression,
Dealt to those oppressed instead.
A lowered standard of life...
Lowers below that of a flower bed.
And an acceptance only blooms,
A stench to climb like vines on fences.
Getting the attention,
Of hard thickened heads!
'Some fools can't see,
Their outlooks can be foolish.
When they perceive,
Themselves kings and queens.
And when they become,
Stung by all their madnesss...
They choose to speed up,
Their own suffering! '
Let us sway with the rhythm.
In dimmed lighting, please.
'Some fools can't see,
Their outlooks can be foolish! '
That's right...
Lower the lights.
'When they perceive,
Themselves as kings and queens.'
Pass the crumbs to those humming.
'When they become,
Stung by all their madness.'
Can I get a witness?
'They choose to speed up,
Their own suffering! '
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Odyssey: Book 14
Ulysses now left the haven, and took the rough track up through
the wooded country and over the crest of the mountain till he
reached the place where Minerva had said that he would find the
swineherd, who was the most thrifty servant he had. He found him
sitting in front of his hut, which was by the yards that he had
built on a site which could be seen from far. He had made them
spacious and fair to see, with a free ran for the pigs all round them;
he had built them during his master's absence, of stones which he
had gathered out of the ground, without saying anything to Penelope or
Laertes, and he had fenced them on top with thorn bushes. Outside
the yard he had run a strong fence of oaken posts, split, and set
pretty close together, while inside lie had built twelve sties near
one another for the sows to lie in. There were fifty pigs wallowing in
each sty, all of them breeding sows; but the boars slept outside and
were much fewer in number, for the suitors kept on eating them, and
die swineherd had to send them the best he had continually. There were
three hundred and sixty boar pigs, and the herdsman's four hounds,
which were as fierce as wolves, slept always with them. The
swineherd was at that moment cutting out a pair of sandals from a good
stout ox hide. Three of his men were out herding the pigs in one place
or another, and he had sent the fourth to town with a boar that he had
been forced to send the suitors that they might sacrifice it and
have their fill of meat.
When the hounds saw Ulysses they set up a furious barking and flew
at him, but Ulysses was cunning enough to sit down and loose his
hold of the stick that he had in his hand: still, he would have been
torn by them in his own homestead had not the swineherd dropped his ox
hide, rushed full speed through the gate of the yard and driven the
dogs off by shouting and throwing stones at them. Then he said to
Ulysses, "Old man, the dogs were likely to have made short work of
you, and then you would have got me into trouble. The gods have
given me quite enough worries without that, for I have lost the best
of masters, and am in continual grief on his account. I have to attend
swine for other people to eat, while he, if he yet lives to see the
light of day, is starving in some distant land. But come inside, and
when you have had your fill of bread and wine, tell me where you
come from, and all about your misfortunes."
On this the swineherd led the way into the hut and bade him sit
down. He strewed a good thick bed of rushes upon the floor, and on the
top of this he threw the shaggy chamois skin- a great thick one- on
which he used to sleep by night. Ulysses was pleased at being made
thus welcome, and said "May Jove, sir, and the rest of the gods
grant you your heart's desire in return for the kind way in which
you have received me."
To this you answered, O swineherd Eumaeus, "Stranger, though a still
poorer man should come here, it would not be right for me to insult
him, for all strangers and beggars are from Jove. You must take what
you can get and be thankful, for servants live in fear when they
have young lords for their masters; and this is my misfortune now, for
heaven has hindered the return of him who would have been always
[...] Read more
poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Beroop Bah Doo Doo Dop...Boo Dah. Ow
You got the better of the best than the rest...
And you keep them guessing,
Who's got the lesser heat?
They stand up on their feet to see.
Even if connected and you show them it's not hectic...
While you keep on stepping,
They stare in disbelief.
They'd like to slap you with a penalty.
They choose to boot you as a pooper.
They want a scoop...
To loop on the news.
They wish to swish a dishing duper.
And they don't like that groove...
You are moving too smooth.
You got the better of the best than the rest...
And you keep them guessing,
Who's got the lesser heat?
They stand up on their feet to see.
Bah doo doo dop, boo dah...
Dah dah.
Bah doo doo dop, boo dah...
Dah dah.
Bah doo doo dop, boo dah...
Dah dah.
Bah doo doo dop, boo dah...
Dah dah.
You got the better of the best than the rest...
And you keep them guessing,
Who's got the lesser heat?
They stand up on their feet to see.
Even if connected and you show them it's not hectic...
While you keep on stepping,
They stare in disbelief.
They'd like to slap you with a penalty.
They choose to boot you as a pooper.
They want a scoop...
To loop on the news.
They wish to swish a dishing duper.
And they don't like that groove...
You are moving too smooth.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Langwidge
'The flamin' cows!' 'e ses; 'e did, an' worse;
'Twas 'orrible the langwidge that 'e used.
It made me blood run cold to 'ear 'im curse;
An' me that taken-back-like an' confused;
W'ile them poor beasts 'e belted an' abused.
'They couldn't shift,' 'e ses, 'a blanky 'earse!
The flamin' cows!'
'The flamin' cows!' You oughter 'eard 'im curse.
You would a bin that shocked. . . . An' the idear!
'Im usin' such remarks about a 'earse;
An' 'is own brother buried not a year.
'Not move a blanky 'earee!' 'e ses. My dear,
You 'ardly could imagine langwidge worse.
'The flamin' cows!'
'The flamin' cows!' Wot would the parson say?
An' 'im so friendly-like with 'im an' 'er.
I pity 'er; I do, 'cos, in 'er way.
She is respectable. But 'i! It's fur
From me, as you well know, to cast a slur,
On anyone; but wot I 'eard that day. . . .
'The flamin' cows!'
'The flamin' cows!' I know quite well that we
Ain't wot you'd call thin-skinned; and nasty pride
Is wot I never 'ad.... But 'er! ... W'y she
She's allus that stuck-up an' full o' side;
A sorter thing I never could abide.
An' all the time 'er 'usband.... Goodness me!
'The flamin' cows!'
'The flamin' cows!' O' course 'e never knowed
That I was list'nin' to 'im all the w'ile.
'E muster bin a full hour on the road;
An', Lord, you could 'a' 'eard 'im for a mile.
Jes' cos they stuck 'im in that boggy sile:
'If they ain't blanky swine,' 'e ses, 'I'm blowed!
The flamin' cows!'
'The flamin' cows!' W'y, if it 'ad occurred,
An' me not 'eard, I'd 'ardly think it true.
An', you know well, I wouldn't breathe a word
Against a livin' soul, I don't care 'oo;
Not if the Queen of Hingland arst me to.
But, oh! that langwidge! If you only 'eard!
'The flamin' cows!'
'The flamin' cows!' 'e ses,, an' more besides.
An' fancy! 'Im! To think that 'e would swear!
[...] Read more
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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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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Dilemma
I love and I need you
Nelly, I love you, I do
Need you
No matter what I do
All I think about is you
Even when Im with my boo
Boy, you know Im crazy over you
No matter what I do
All I think about is you
Even when Im with my boo
You know Im crazy over you
Uh-uh-uh-uh
I met this chick and she just moved right up the block
From me
And she got the hots for me, the finest thing I need
To see
But oh, no, no, she got a man and a son, oh-oh, but
Thats okay
cause I wait for my cue and just listen, play my
Position
Like a shortstop, pick up erything mami hittin
And in no time I better make this friend mine and
Thats for sure
cause i-i never been the type to break up a happy
Home
But theres something bout baby girl, I just cant
Leave her lone
So tell me, ma, whats it gonna be
She said, you dont know what you mean to me, come
On
No matter what I do
All I think about is you
Even when Im with my boo
Boy, you know Im crazy over you
No matter what I do
All I think about is you
Even when Im with my boo
You know Im crazy over you
Uh-uh-uh-uh
I see a lot in your look and I never say a word
I know how n****s start actin trippin , and hate up
All the girls
And theres no way nelly go for it
Aint f***in with no dame, as you could see
But i-i like your steeze, your style, your whole
Demeanor
The way you come through and holler, and swoop me in
His two-seater
Now thats gangsta and I got special ways to thank ya,
Dont you forget it
[...] Read more
song performed by Nelly
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In The Land Of The Bumbley Boo
In the land of the Bumbley Boo
The People are red white and blue,
They never blow noses,
Or ever wear closes,
What a sensible thing to do!
In the land of the Bumbley Boo
You can buy Lemon pie at the zoo;
They give away foxes
In little Pink Boxes
And Bottles of Dandylion Stew.
In the land of the Bumbley Boo
You never see a Gnu,
But thousands of cats
Wearing trousers and hats
Made of Pumpkins and Pelican Glue!
Chorus
Oh, the Bumbley Boo! the Bumbley Boo!
That's the place for me and you!
So hurry! Let's run!
The train leaves at one!
For the land of the Bumbley Boo!
The wonderful Bumbley Boo-Boo-Boo!
The Wonderful Bumbley BOO!!!
poem by Spike Milligan
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Flip-Flop! Clip-Clap! Boo-Boo Cried SOLO BOBBY – Trapped in a BOOBY-TRAP!
In lonely woods, I met Cyclops with solo eye and single mouth with fire
Goofing around in a city by varying names – hobo, hog are names few;
Anchorite, Hieronymite, troglodyte, , stylite, road hog are names new -
Solo Cyclops is a 16th century’s leviathan & 21st century’s plastic gyre.
Flip-flop! Clip-clap! Boo-boo cried solo Bobby – trapped in the Booby-trap!
Clip-clop went the horse's hop – lonely Johny weeps in the lonely shop!
Aloneness greets me seventy times seven and 24/7 with a mess!
Aloneness is a burning hole inside me with a hallow emptiness....
Aloneness is tearing me apart and pulling my only heart apart!
Aloneness is perfect but hopelessness and darkness in your heart.
Flip-flop! Clip-clap! Boo-boo cried solo Bobby – trapped in the Booby-trap!
Clip-clop went the horse's hop – lonely Johny weeps in the lonely shop!
Aloneness is a feeling of wontedness yet remains unwonted,
Aloofness isn't a simple word anymore - a nerve rattling terror;
It has undergone a surgery, turned out to be chameleons’ avatar!
So it puts every Jack, Tom and Jerry on the butcher’s altar.
Flip-flop! Clip-clap! Boo-boo cried solo Bobby – trapped in the Booby-trap!
Clip-clop went the horse's hop – lonely Johny weeps in the lonely shop!
Afraid of it, I wear a mask of180 roles in the life's movie horror,
Outwardly, I hug some in memory, some in illusion in the movie terror,
It visits every house with different names – reclusiveness,
Forlornness, friendlessness yet brings the same lugubriousness.
Flip-flop! Clip-clap! Boo-boo cried solo Bobby – trapped in the Booby-trap!
Clip-clop went the horse's hop – lonely Johny weeps in the lonely shop!
In spine-chilling viper fishes, drifts solo clown trigger fish – a yellowish one!
Among gargantuan planets nine, exists a solo asteroid – a bittie one;
Along elephantine Titan Arums dwells a solo Camellia – a reddish one!
Among creepy-crawly hyenas lives solo teensy-weensy gazelle – cute one.
Flip-flop! Clip-clap! Boo-boo cried solo Bobby – trapped in the Booby-trap!
Clip-clop went the horse's hop – lonely Johny weeps in the lonely shop!
poem by Harindhar Reddy
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In A Castle
I
Over the yawning chimney hangs the fog. Drip -- hiss -- drip -- hiss --
fall the raindrops on the oaken log which burns, and steams,
and smokes the ceiling beams. Drip -- hiss -- the rain never stops.
The wide, state bed shivers beneath its velvet coverlet. Above, dim,
in the smoke, a tarnished coronet gleams dully. Overhead hammers and chinks
the rain. Fearfully wails the wind down distant corridors, and there comes
the swish and sigh of rushes lifted off the floors. The arras blows sidewise
out from the wall, and then falls back again.
It is my lady's key, confided with much nice cunning, whisperingly.
He enters on a sob of wind, which gutters the candles almost to swaling.
The fire flutters and drops. Drip -- hiss -- the rain never stops.
He shuts the door. The rushes fall again to stillness along the floor.
Outside, the wind goes wailing.
The velvet coverlet of the wide bed is smooth and cold. Above,
in the firelight, winks the coronet of tarnished gold. The knight shivers
in his coat of fur, and holds out his hands to the withering flame.
She is always the same, a sweet coquette. He will wait for her.
How the log hisses and drips! How warm and satisfying will be her lips!
It is wide and cold, the state bed; but when her head lies under the coronet,
and her eyes are full and wet with love, and when she holds out her arms,
and the velvet counterpane half slips from her, and alarms
her trembling modesty, how eagerly he will leap to cover her, and blot himself
beneath the quilt, making her laugh and tremble.
Is it guilt to free a lady from her palsied lord, absent and fighting,
terribly abhorred?
He stirs a booted heel and kicks a rolling coal. His spur clinks
on the hearth. Overhead, the rain hammers and chinks. She is so pure
and whole. Only because he has her soul will she resign herself to him,
for where the soul has gone, the body must be given as a sign. He takes her
by the divine right of the only lover. He has sworn to fight her lord,
and wed her after. Should he be overborne, she will die adoring him, forlorn,
shriven by her great love.
Above, the coronet winks in the darkness. Drip -- hiss -- fall the raindrops.
The arras blows out from the wall, and a door bangs in a far-off hall.
[...] Read more
poem by Amy Lowell
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A Drought Idyll
It was the middle of the drought; the ground was hot and bare,
You might search for grass with a microscope, but nary grass was there;
The hay was done, the cornstalks gone, the trees were dying fast,
The sun o'erhead was a curse in read and the wind was a furnace blast;
The waterholes were sun-baked mud, the drays stood thick as bees
Around the well, a mile away, amid the ringbarked trees.
McGinty left his pumpkin-pie and gazed upon the scene:
His cows stood propped 'gainst tree and fence wherever they could lean;
The horse he'd fixed with sapling forks had fallen down once more;
The fleas were hopping joyfully on stockyard, path, and floor;
The flies in thousands buzzed about before his waving hand;
The hungry pigs squealed as he said, 'Me own, me native land!'
'Queensland, me Mother! Ain't yer well?' he asked. 'Come tell me how's -'
'Dry up! Dry up!' yelled Mrs Mac, 'Go out and feed the cows.'
'But where's the feed?' McGinty cried, 'The sugarcane's all done -
It wasn't worth the bally freight we paid for it per ton.
I'll get me little axe and go with Possum and the mare
For 'arf a ton of apple-tree or a load of prickly-pear.'
'The prickly-pear'll kill the cows unless yer bile it right,'
Cried Mrs Mac, 'and I don't mean to bile it all the night.
They tell me fer a bob a bag the brewery will sell
Their refuse stuff, like Simpson 'ad - his cows is doin' well.
Yer get the loan of Bampston's dray and borrer Freeny's nags,
And fetch along a decent load, McGinty - thirty bags.
McGinty borrowed Bampston's dray and hitched up Freeney's nags
And drove like blazes into town and fetched back thirty bags.
The stuff was mellow, soft, and brown; and if you came too near
It shed around a lovely scent till the air seemed full of beer,
McGinty fetched each feedbox out and filled it to the brim,
Then lit his pipe and fell asleep. That was the style of him.
The cows, they lurched off fence and tree and staggered in to feed,
The horses tottered after them - old, feeble, and knock-kneed.
But when they smelt that sacred stuff in boxes on the ground
They smiled and neighed and lowed and twirled their hungry tails around.
You would have walked a hundred miles or more to see and hear
They way McGinty's stock attacked that stuff that smelt like beer…
'Wake up! Wake up! McGinty man! Wake up!' yelled Mrs Mac.
She held a broom and every word was followed by a whack.
McGinty had been dreaming hard that it was Judgement Day
And he was drafted with the goats and being driven away;
The Devil with a toasting fork was jabbing at his jaw,
He rose and yelled and fled outside - and this is what he saw:
The brindle cow, with spotted tail, was trying to climb a tree;
[...] Read more
poem by George Essex Evans
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