Edwards missed getting Stearns at third base by an eyeball.
quote by Jerry Coleman
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
My heart beat
It all seems like today
Ages have passed by…
My heart missed a beat
When I first saw you
When you stretched out your hand
When you spoke to me first
When you said you look good
When you stood talking for hours
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I met you
When we started dating
When we went on shopping
When we spent time in each other’s company
When we were in each other’s arms
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I wanted to say something
When you found that life was miserable
When you thought I should live with you
When you enjoyed my company
When you proposed to me
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I felt your love
When we first had a talk
When we had a long walk
When we never heard the waves on the shore
When we knew we loved each other
My heart missed a leap
My heart missed a leap
When I lost words
When you found them for me
When you touched me first
When you blew in my ears
When you kissed me first
My heart missed a beat
My heart missed a beat
When I saw the ring
When we decided
When we finalized things
When we knew everything was fine
When we heard the revolt
[...] Read more
poem by Leena Bose
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Golden Age
Long ere the Muse the strenuous chords had swept,
And the first lay as yet in silence slept,
A Time there was which since has stirred the lyre
To notes of wail and accents warm with fire;
Moved the soft Mantuan to his silvery strain,
And him who sobbed in pentametric pain;
To which the World, waxed desolate and old,
Fondly reverts, and calls the Age of Gold.
Then, without toil, by vale and mountain side,
Men found their few and simple wants supplied;
Plenty, like dew, dropped subtle from the air,
And Earth's fair gifts rose prodigal as prayer.
Love, with no charms except its own to lure,
Was swiftly answered by a love as pure.
No need for wealth; each glittering fruit and flower,
Each star, each streamlet, made the maiden's dower.
Far in the future lurked maternal throes,
And children blossomed painless as the rose.
No harrowing question `why,' no torturing `how,'
Bent the lithe frame or knit the youthful brow.
The growing mind had naught to seek or shun;
Like the plump fig it ripened in the sun.
From dawn to dark Man's life was steeped in joy,
And the gray sire was happy as the boy.
Nature with Man yet waged no troublous strife,
And Death was almost easier than Life.
Safe on its native mountains throve the oak,
Nor ever groaned 'neath greed's relentless stroke.
No fear of loss, no restlessness for more,
Drove the poor mariner from shore to shore.
No distant mines, by penury divined,
Made him the sport of fickle wave or wind.
Rich for secure, he checked each wish to roam,
And hugged the safe felicity of home.
Those days are long gone by; but who shall say
Why, like a dream, passed Saturn's Reign away?
Over its rise, its ruin, hangs a veil,
And naught remains except a Golden Tale.
Whether 'twas sin or hazard that dissolved
That happy scheme by kindly Gods evolved;
Whether Man fell by lucklessness or pride,-
Let jarring sects, and not the Muse, decide.
But when that cruel Fiat smote the earth,
Primeval Joy was poisoned at its birth.
In sorrow stole the infant from the womb,
The agëd crept in sorrow to the tomb.
The ground, so bounteous once, refused to bear
More than was wrung by sower, seed, and share.
[...] Read more
poem by Alfred Austin
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Great Poets Missed Never Met
Great poets missed
never met
never engaged
artistic in conversation
we missed William Shakespeare
John Milton, Edmund Spenser
who wrote 'The Faerie Queene';
John Done long gone but not forgotten
we missed Francois Marie Arouet
better known as pen name Voltaire
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
and macabre master Edgar Allan Poe
we missed the romantic poets
Shelley, Keats, Lord Byron
all dead within three years
of each others tragic deaths
we missed William Blake
“Tyger! Tyger! burning bright,
In the forest of the night,
What immortal hand or eye”
we missed the lake poets
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
William Wordsworth who
quarrelled irrevocably parted
we missed Robert Browning
wife Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Henry Wadsworth-Longfellow
Italian Dante Gabriel Rossetti
sister Christina Georgina Rossetti
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Walt Whitman
Lewis Carroll who took us in concepts
‘Through the Looking-Glass’ allusions
we also missed Wilfred Owen pacifist
T.S. Eliot walking ‘The Waste Land’
Siegfried Sassoon slaughter survived
Wystan Hugh Auden a man of a lit wit
William Carlos Williams upon ‘a red
wheel barrow’ so much depends spins
Sylvia Plath into ‘The Bell Jar’ while
Allen Ginsberg stalks Walt Whitman
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
They'll None of 'Em Be Missed
As some day it may happen that a victim must be found,
I've got a little list - I've got a little list
Of social offenders who might well be underground,
And who never would be missed - who never would be missed!
There's the pestilential nuisances who write for autographs -
All people who have flabby hands and irritating laughs -
All children who are up in dates, and floor you with 'em flat -
All persons who in shaking hands, shake hands with you like THAT -
And all third persons who on spoiling TETE-E-TETES insist -
They'd none of 'em be missed - they'd none of 'em be missed!
There's the nigger serenader, and the others of his race,
And the piano organist - I've got him on the list!
And the people who eat peppermint and puff it in your face,
They never would be missed - they never would be missed!
Then the idiot who praises, with enthusiastic tone,
All centuries but this, and every country but his own;
And the lady from the provinces, who dresses like a guy,
And who "doesn't think she waltzes, but would rather like to try";
And that FIN-DE-SIECLE anomaly, the scorching motorist -
I don't think he'd be missed - I'm SURE he'd not be missed!
And that NISI PRIUS nuisance, who just now is rather rife,
The Judicial humorist - I've got HIM on the list!
All funny fellows, comic men, and clowns of private life -
They'd none of 'em be missed - they'd none of 'em be missed!
And apologetic statesmen of the compromising kind,
Such as - What-d'ye-call-him - Thing'em-Bob, and likewise - Never-
mind,
And 'St - 'st - 'st - and What's-his-name, and also - You-know-who-
(The task of filling up the blanks I'd rather leave to YOU!)
But it really doesn't matter whom you put upon the list,
For they'd none of 'em be missed - they'd none of 'em be missed!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Sir Peter Harpdon's End
In an English Castle in Poictou. Sir Peter Harpdon, a Gascon knight in the English service, and John Curzon, his lieutenant.
John Curzon
Of those three prisoners, that before you came
We took down at St. John's hard by the mill,
Two are good masons; we have tools enough,
And you have skill to set them working.
Sir Peter
So-
What are their names?
John Curzon
Why, Jacques Aquadent,
And Peter Plombiere, but-
Sir Peter
What colour'd hair
Has Peter now? has Jacques got bow legs?
John Curzon
Why, sir, you jest: what matters Jacques' hair,
Or Peter's legs to us?
Sir Peter
O! John, John, John!
Throw all your mason's tools down the deep well,
Hang Peter up and Jacques; they're no good,
We shall not build, man.
John Curzon
going.
Shall I call the guard
To hang them, sir? and yet, sir, for the tools,
We'd better keep them still; sir, fare you well.
[...] Read more
poem by William Morris
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Hyperactive
Shes got a date for lunch in Singapore,
Holds stock in I.B.M. and hates Dior.
She puts up her make-up on at 6.00am
She goes to work, gets home then puts it on again
And its a mystery how wild that girl can be;
Shes got so much energy;
Shes such an expert at surprising me.
Shes hyperactive when she starts to dance.
And shes so attracted to a wild romance,
And more effective than a stimulant -
Shes hyperactive.
Shes hyperactive when she starts to dance.
she never missed a beat or missed a chance,
And Im persuaded by her argument.
Shes hyperactive.
The other dancers hypervantilate and start to sweat.
One look at her - I know the nights not over yet.
She says Where are we going now?
Her voice is sweet and soft.
I think she lost the key that turns her motor off.
And its a mystery how wild that girl can be;
Shes got so much energy;
Shes such an expert at surprising me.
Shes hyperactive when she starts to dance.
She never missed a beat or missed a chance,
And Im persuaded by her argument.
Shes hyperactive.
Shes hyperactive when she starts to dance.
And shes so attracted to a wild romance,
And more effective than a stimulant -
Shes hyperactive.
And its a mystery how wild that girl can be;
Shes got do much energy;
Shes such an expert at suprising me.
Shes hyperactive when she starts to dance.
And shes so attracted to a wild romance,
And more effective than a stimulant -
Shes hyperactive.
Shes hyperactive when she starts to dance.
she never missed a beat or missed a chance,
And Im persuaded by her argument.
Shes hyperactive.
Shes hyperactive when she starts to dance.
She never missed a beat or missed a chance,
And more effective than a stimulant -
Shes hyperactive.
Shes hyperactive when she starts to dance.
She never missed a beat or missed a chance,
And more effective than a stimulant -
Shes hyperactive.
song performed by Robert Palmer
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Teares of the Muses
Rehearse to me ye sacred Sisters nine:
The golden brood of great Apolloes wit,
Those piteous plaints and sorrowful sad tine,
Which late ye powred forth as ye did sit
Beside the siluer Springs of Helicone,
Making your musick of hart-breaking mone.
For since the time that Phoebus foolish sonne
Ythundered through Ioues auengefull wrath,
For trauersing the charret of the Sunne
Beyond the compasse of his pointed path,
Of you his mournfull Sisters was lamented,
Such mournfull tunes were neuer since inuented.
Nor since that faire Calliope did lose
Her loued Twinnes, the dearlings of her ioy,
Her Palici, whom her vnkindly foes
The fatall Sisters, did for spight destroy,
Whom all the Muses did bewaile long space;
Was euer heard such wayling in this place.
For all their groues, which with the heauenly noyses,
Of their sweete instruments were wont to sound,
And th' hollow hills, from which their siluer voyces
Were wont redoubled Echoes to rebound,
Did now rebound with nought but rufull cries,
And yelling shrieks throwne vp into the skies.
The trembling streames, which wont in chanels cleare
To romble gently downe with murmur soft,
And were by them right tunefull taught to beare
A Bases part amongst their consorts oft;
Now forst to ouerflowe with brackish teares,
With troublous noyse did dull their daintie eares.
The ioyous Nymphes and lightfoote Faeries
Which thether came to heare their musick sweet,
And to the measure of their melodies
Did learne to moue their nimble shifting feete;
Now hearing them so heauily lament,
Like heauily lamenting from them went.
And all that els was wont to worke delight
Through the diuine infusion of their skill,
And all that els seemd faire and fresh in sight,
So made by nature for to serue their will,
Was turned now to dismall heauinesse,
Was turned now to dreadfull vglinesse.
Ay me, what thing on earth that all thing breeds,
Might be the cause of so impatient plight?
[...] Read more
poem by Edmund Spenser
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Wedding Day
Today you'll pick up all the pieces
And get on with your life
All I can hope is that you're happy
'Cause today you're someone elses wife
Right now I wish that I could turn back
And beg the hands of time
For the days that I remember (oh baby)
The days when you were mine
And if I never said I love you
It's cause the words got in the way
Now all I do is say I'm sorry
Sorry I missed your wedding day
I'll bet you looked good at the altar
I'll bet he knew the words to say
And the angels smiled when you walked down the aisle
You both knelt down to pray
As he put his ring on your finger
I know there's just one thing left to say
All I can do is say I'm sorry
Sorry I missed your wedding day
So Sorry
(solo)
You won't be walking through the door anymore
You won't be sleeping in this bed anymore
Tho' I swear I see your shadow waltz accross my floor
And I don't know if I can take it
Should we ever meet again
Cause I know that we'll be strangers
When he introduces friends
I tried to make it to the church now baby
A broken heart got in the way
All I can do is tell you I'm sorry
Sorry I missed your wedding day
I really hope you're happy baby
Tho' it's killing me to say
All I can do is say I'm sorry
Sorry I missed you're wedding day
Sorry I missed you're wedding
I'm sorry I missed you're wedding day
I'm sorry I missed you're wedding day
I'm sorry I missed you're wedding day
[...] Read more
song performed by Bon Jovi
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Killin Time
People polishing guns
Theyve got nothing better to do
Though they think theyre having fun
Theyre just living to die, if they but knew
Now, now
All day long they sit at home
Waiting for the milk to come
Watch them turn into stone
Thinking bout the things they might have done,
Now, now
You missed the point, you missed the point
You really missed the point
Everybodys got to know
Loves the reason were here
No matter which way you go
Loves gonna meet you there
Killing time, killing time
Killing time, killing time
You missed the point, you really missed the point
Made me cry, I wonder why, why
You missed the point, you missed the point
You really missed the point
song performed by Cat Stevens
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
A moment missed
Remember when I asked you out?
And how you shed a tear.
Remember how I told you.
That I'd stay for all those years.
Remember our first kiss?
Under a moonlit sky.
Remember the fireworks.
That shone in your eyes.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember all the promises?
That we never seemed to keep.
Remember all the times.
I held you when you'd weep.
Remember all the walks we took?
On the beach at midnight.
Remember when we were perfect?
And everything felt right.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember that rose I sent you?
For our schools winter dance.
Remember when we broke up?
And I begged for a second chance.
Remember when you got pregant.
And I stayed right by your side.
Remember how I bought that ring?
And took your hand in mine.
A smeared kiss.
A moment missed.
Remember when I became a dad?
And held my baby girl.
Remember how we fought for names.
And ended up with Pearl.
Remember her first birthday?
And that pretty teddy bear.
Remember her old blankie?
That she carried everywhere.
A smeared kiss.
[...] Read more
poem by Silence Dogood
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Satan Absolved
(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.
[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.
Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.
Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.
[...] Read more
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Another Blossom
The eye within the eye
of a soul is tranquil
but the storm is raging.
Around the body, the cluster of names.
Father and mother,
brothers and sisters,
I am refugee in my home.
I steal glances over the western sky,
a blue star beckons.
Ambition was a small
city in twinkling night
a pilgrimage of amazing nothingness.
My heartaches for the missed
happenings. The decay was inevitable.
The flight of swans continued.
The memories of flowers
had a funeral for me.
Death was ready to strike
eyeball to eyeball, I refuse to gratify
One long vigil was still
incomplete, ash & flame
will break the distance.
Today a song will rise
from the ruins.
I will wait for another blossom,
another voyage to dreams.
poem by Satish Verma
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Leszko The Bastard
``Why do I bid the rising gale
To waft me from your shore?
Why hail I, as the vultures hail,
The scent of far-off gore?
Why wear I with defiant pride
The Paynim's badge and gear,
Though I am vowed to Christ that died,
And fain would staunch the gaping side
That felt the sceptic spear?
And why doth one in whom there runs
The blood of Sclavic sires and sons,
In those but find a foe,
That onward march with sword and flame,
To vindicate the Sclavic name,
From the fringe of Arctic snows,
To the cradle of the rose,
Where the Sweet Waters flow?
Strange! But 'twere stranger yet if I,
When Turk and Tartar splinters fly,
Lagged far behind the van.
While the wind dallies with my sail,
Listen! and you shall hear my tale;
Then marvel, if you can!
``Nothing but snow! A white waste world,
Far as eye reached, or voice could call!
Motion within itself slept furled;
The earth was dead, and Heaven its pall!
Now nothing lived except the wind,
That, moaning round with restless mind,
Seemed like uncoffined ghost to flit
O'er vacant tracts, that it might find
Some kindred thing to speak with it.
Nothing to break the white expanse!
No far, no near, no high, no low!
Nothing to stop the wandering glance!
One smooth monotony of snow!
I lifted the latch, and I shivered in;
My mother stood by the larch-log blaze,
My mother, stately, and tall, and thin,
With the shapely head and the soft white skin,
And the sweetly-sorrowing gaze.
She was younger than you, aye, you who stand
In matron prime by your household fire,
A happy wife in a happy land,
And with all your heart's desire.
But though bred, like you, from the proud and brave,
Her hair was blanched and her voice was grave.
If you knew what it is to be born a slave,
And to feel a despot's ire!
[...] Read more
poem by Alfred Austin
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Conference
Grace said in form, which sceptics must agree,
When they are told that grace was said by me;
The servants gone to break the scurvy jest
On the proud landlord, and his threadbare guest;
'The King' gone round, my lady too withdrawn;
My lord, in usual taste, began to yawn,
And, lolling backward in his elbow-chair,
With an insipid kind of stupid stare,
Picking his teeth, twirling his seals about--
Churchill, you have a poem coming out:
You've my best wishes; but I really fear
Your Muse, in general, is too severe;
Her spirit seems her interest to oppose,
And where she makes one friend, makes twenty foes.
_C_. Your lordship's fears are just; I feel their force,
But only feel it as a thing of course.
The man whose hardy spirit shall engage
To lash, the vices of a guilty age,
At his first setting forward ought to know
That every rogue he meets must be his foe;
That the rude breath of satire will provoke
Many who feel, and more who fear the stroke.
But shall the partial rage of selfish men
From stubborn Justice wrench the righteous pen?
Or shall I not my settled course pursue,
Because my foes are foes to Virtue too?
_L_. What is this boasted Virtue, taught in schools,
And idly drawn from antiquated rules?
What is her use? Point out one wholesome end.
Will she hurt foes, or can she make a friend?
When from long fasts fierce appetites arise,
Can this same Virtue stifle Nature's cries?
Can she the pittance of a meal afford,
Or bid thee welcome to one great man's board?
When northern winds the rough December arm
With frost and snow, can Virtue keep thee warm?
Canst thou dismiss the hard unfeeling dun
Barely by saying, thou art Virtue's son?
Or by base blundering statesmen sent to jail,
Will Mansfield take this Virtue for thy bail?
Believe it not, the name is in disgrace;
Virtue and Temple now are out of place.
Quit then this meteor, whose delusive ray
Prom wealth and honour leads thee far astray.
True virtue means--let Reason use her eyes--
Nothing with fools, and interest with the wise.
Wouldst thou be great, her patronage disclaim,
Nor madly triumph in so mean a name:
Let nobler wreaths thy happy brows adorn,
And leave to Virtue poverty and scorn.
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Churchill
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Fragments - Lines 0183 - 0192
Among rams and asses and horses, Kyrnos, we look for those
Of noble breeding, and a man wants them to mate
From worthy stock. Yet a noble man does not mind marrying
A base woman of base birth if she brings him money in abundance,
Nor does a woman shrink from becoming the wife of a base man
With wealth; she prefers a rich husband to a worthy one.
Money is what they honor; the noble weds a base man's daughter,
The base a worthy man's: wealth mixes stock.
Thus do not be amazed, son of Polypaos, that the citizen's stock
Is growing feeble, for what is noble is being mixed with what is base.
poem by Theognis
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Allegany Camp
amazing grace circus camp
amazing grace day camp
amazing grace hallelujah jeremy camp
amazing grace jeremy camp
amazing love jeremy camp
amazing place chalet pigeon forge
amazing race church camp
amazing race games for camps
amazing race girl scout camp
amazon camp dutch lodge oven
amazon camp in sweetwater missouri
amazon cast iron dutch lodge camp
amazon dutch oven camp
amazon lodge dutch oven camp
ambassador camp at lake waccamaw nc
ambassador camp inc
ambassador chalet
ambassador chalet at doral
ambassador chalet wgc
amber bowers
amber camp lazlo
amber pow camp
amberg germany dp camp
ambition camp hockey pro
ambler baseball camp
ambleside scotland school camp
ambon pow camp
ambor island pow camp
ambor pow camp
ambulance bower
amc camp dodge
amc camp movie summer
amc camp summer theater
amc little lyford camps
amc movie camp
amc movie camps
amc north west camp bear mountain
amc pinkham notch camp
amc summer camp for s
amc summer camp for s 2007
amc summer camp movies
amc summer movie camp
amc summer movie camp 2007
amc summer movie camp 2008
amc summer movie camp arlington
amc summer movie camp ontario california
amc theater camp hill
amc theatres summer camp
amcmovie camps
amelia earhart in japanese war camp
[...] Read more
poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Out Gunned By A Single Cell DNA Rocker
Amoebia Dubia approximately
200 times more DNA than a human
being of ego essential character.
Genome human 3.2 billion base pairs.
The largest sequenced genome known?
At present a one celled animal traveller.
Counting up in genome base pairs we have
E. coli 4.1 million, baker’s yeast 12 million,
a worm 97 million, a fruit fly 120 million base pairs.
Continuing with our count up define
a flower arabidopsis (Arabidopsis thaliana) 157 million,
a bat (Rhinolophus ferrumequinum) 1.9 billion,
a snake (Boa constrictor) 2.1 billion
an Asian barking deer (Muntiacus muntjak vaginalis) 2.5 billion
us humankind (Homo sapien) 3.2 billion
a frog (Bufo bufo) 6.9 billion
amoebia (Amoebia proteus) 290 billion
amoebia (Amoebia dubia) 670 billion base pairs.
Amoebia Dubia approximately
200 times more DNA than a human
when the human genome was
recorded as 2.9 million base pairs.
Human immunodeficiency
virus type, only 119,750 thousand?
A virus usually contains
less base pairs than a bacterium.
“Duplications are probably
fundamental to the creation
of genetic novelty.”
“Horizontal gene transfer is a highly
significant phenomenon and amongst
single-celled organisms perhaps
the dominant form of genetic transfer.”
“Horizontal gene transfer is invoked
to explain how there is often extreme
similarity between small portions
of the genomes of two organisms
that are otherwise very distantly related.”
The words probably, perhaps and invoked
were used to indicate that we are not as knowledgeable
nor smart as collective public perceptions.
Artificial horizontal gene transfer
is a form of genetic engineering
[...] Read more
poem by Terence George Craddock
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
A Man
George was lying in his trailer, flat on his back, watching a small portable T.V. His
dinner dishes were undone, his breakfast dishes were undone, he needed a shave, and ash
from his rolled cigarettes dropped onto his undershirt. Some of the ash was still burning.
Sometimes the burning ash missed the undershirt and hit his skin, then he cursed, brushing
it away. There was a knock on the trailer door. He got slowly to his feet and answered the
door. It was Constance. She had a fifth of unopened whiskey in a bag.
"George, I left that son of a bitch, I couldn't stand that son of a bitch
anymore."
"Sit down."
George opened the fifth, got two glasses, filled each a third with whiskey, two thirds
with water. He sat down on the bed with Constance. She took a cigarette out of her purse
and lit it. She was drunk and her hands trembled.
"I took his damn money too. I took his damn money and split while he was at work.
You don't know how I've suffered with that son of a bitch." "
Lemme have a smoke," said George. She handed it to him and as she leaned near,
George put his arm around her, pulled her over and kissed her.
"You son of a bitch," she said, "I missed you."
"I miss those good legs of yours , Connie. I've really missed those good
legs."
"You still like 'em?"
"I get hot just looking."
"I could never make it with a college guy," said Connie. "They're too
soft, they're milk toast. And he kept his house clean. George , it was like having a maid.
He did it all. The place was spotless. You could eat beef stew right off the crapper. He
was antiseptic, that's what he was."
"Drink up, you'll feel better."
"And he couldn't make love."
"You mean he couldn't get it up?"
"Oh he got it up, he got it up all the time. But he didn't know how to make a
woman happy, you know. He didn't know what to do. All that money, all that education, he
was useless."
"I wish I had a college education."
"You don't need one. You have everything you need, George."
"I'm just a flunky. All the shit jobs."
"I said you have everything you need, George. You know how to make a woman
happy."
"Yeh?"
"Yes. And you know what else? His mother came around! His mother! Two or three
times a week. And she'd sit there looking at me, pretending to like me but all the time
she was treating me like I was a whore. Like I was a big bad whore stealing her son away
from her! Her precious Wallace! Christ! What a mess!" "He claimed he loved me.
And I'd say, 'Look at my pussy, Walter!' And he wouldn't look at my pussy. He said, 'I
don't want to look at that thing.' That thing! That's what he called it! You're not afraid
of my pussy, are you, George?"
"It's never bit me yet." "But you've bit it, you've nibbled it, haven't
you George?"
"I suppose I have."
"And you've licked it , sucked it?"
"I suppose so."
"You know damn well, George, what you've done."
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Bukowski
Added by Dan Costinaş
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
In My Heart You Belong
You are missed.
And,
In my heart you are there strong.
You are missed.
And,
In my heart you belong.
You are missed.
And,
In my heart you are there strong.
You are missed.
And,
In my heart you belong.
I hear people always say,
They hope somebody stays away.
But in my heart you are there strong.
I am not one who will portray,
I feel no pain and it's okay.
'Cause in my heart you belong.
I have weeped a week.
'Cause in my heart,
You are still strong.
Not a wink of sleep.
'Cause in my heart you belong.
I hear people always say,
They hope somebody stays away.
But in my heart you are there strong.
I am not one who will portray,
I feel no pain and it's okay.
'Cause in my heart you belong.
You are missed.
And,
In my heart you are there strong.
You are missed.
And,
In my heart you belong.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
We were eyeball-to-eyeball and the other fellow just blinked.
quote by David Dean Rusk
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!