While the spoken word can travel faster, you can't take it home in your hand. Only the written word can be absorbed wholly at the convenience of the reader.
quote by Kingman Brewster, Jr.
Added by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Light Is Faster Than Sound
Sound ...
Light is faster than sound
My head to the ground
Mind going round
Faster than sound.
What goes up must come down
World goes around
Sun shines at ground
Faster than sound.
Yeah yeah, faster than sound, yeah
Faster than sound, whoa yeah
Faster than sound, ah ah
'cause life is faster than sound.
Faster than sound.
It's your face yes it is,
It's your face yes it is,
I see your face, yeah
I see your face, yeah
I see your face, yeah faster than sound, yeah
I see your face, yeah faster than sound, alright c'mon c'mon
Oh yeah faster than sound, yeah
Oh oh faster than sound, ah ha
I see your face faster than sound, yeah
I see your face faster than sound, yeah
Oh yeah faster than sound
Oh yeah faster than sound
Oh yeah faster than sound, hey
Faster than sound.
Light is faster than sound
My head to the ground
Mind going round
Faster than sound.
What goes up must come down
World goes around
Sun shines around
Faster than sound.
Whoa!
Faster than sound, yeah
Faster than sound
Alright, alright, alright
Faster than sound
Yeah,
Faster than sound
Faster than sound
Faster than sound, yeah yeah!
Faster than sound, yeah yeah!
Faster than sound!
It's so fast, yes it is
It's so fast, yes it is
Hey, hey
[...] Read more
song performed by Janis Joplin
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lubie
I said I, I left my wife and child (Lubie come back home),
I said i, i left my wife and child (lubie come back home),
And lord my conscience is about to drive me wild (Lubie come back home),
And lord my conscience is about to drive me wild (lubie come back home),
A little voice inside my head goes on and on (Lubie come back home),
A little voice inside my head goes on and on (lubie come back home),
Said Lubie Lubie you better go back home.
Said lubie lubie you better go back home.
I said I, I thought I'd make it by myself (Lubie come back home),
I said i, i thought i'd make it by myself (lubie come back home),
And now my baby she got my heart dropped on a shelf (Lubie come back home),
And now my baby she got my heart dropped on a shelf (lubie come back home),
I said I, I still you're my baby now (Lubie come back home),
I said i, i still you're my baby now (lubie come back home),
Said Lubie Lubie you better go back home.
Said lubie lubie you better go back home.
You better go on home (Lubie come back home),
You better go on home (lubie come back home),
I said yeah Lubie go on home (Lubie come back home),
I said yeah lubie go on home (lubie come back home),
I said you better go home girl,
I said you better go home girl,
Ah yeah you go home.
Ah yeah you go home.
Go on home home home home home home,
Go on home home home home home home,
Yeah Lubie go on home home home home home home,
Yeah lubie go on home home home home home home,
Yeah Lubie go on home home home home home home,
Yeah lubie go on home home home home home home,
Little bit soft, everybody go soft,
Little bit soft, everybody go soft,
Go on home to see my baby,
Go on home to see my baby,
Yeah you know that she loves you daddy like crazy.
Yeah you know that she loves you daddy like crazy.
I say my misses I'm gonna stay what I'm gonna do,
I say my misses i'm gonna stay what i'm gonna do,
Gonna buy you a monkey and a new dog too yeah,
Gonna buy you a monkey and a new dog too yeah,
The guys have got yeah to get 'em to see my baby,
The guys have got yeah to get 'em to see my baby,
A little bit louder, everybody go on go louder, yeah yeah yeah yeah.
A little bit louder, everybody go on go louder, yeah yeah yeah yeah.
Now Lubie where you been,
Now lubie where you been,
I said I, I left my wife and child (Lubie come back home),
I said i, i left my wife and child (lubie come back home),
And lord my conscience is about to drive me wild (Lubie come back home),
And lord my conscience is about to drive me wild (lubie come back home),
[...] Read more
song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Resistor
You are being taken under our power to your destination
Go!
Everybody, is a part of the whole of the system
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Everybody, is a part...
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
To welcome disaster (repeat - fade)
Everybody
Everybody is a part of the whole of the system
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Everybody
Hey! Hey!
Everybody, is a part...
Hey! Hey!
Were all here on this planet
To spend a couple of hundred thousand hours
To find out
Where we came from
Where we go, and what our souls are all about
Go!
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Everybody
Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!
Everybody, is a part...
Hey! Hey! Hey!
Everybody
Everybody, is a part...
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Everybody, is a part of the whole of the system
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
song performed by Yello
Added by Lucian Velea
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Resistor
You are being taken under our power to your destination
Go!
Everybody, is a part of the whole of the system
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Everybody, is a part...
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
To welcome disaster (repeat - fade)
Everybody
Everybody is a part of the whole of the system
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Everybody
Hey! Hey!
Everybody, is a part...
Hey! Hey!
Were all here on this planet
To spend a couple of hundred thousand hours
To find out
Where we came from
Where we go, and what our souls are all about
Go!
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Everybody
Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!
Everybody, is a part...
Hey! Hey! Hey!
Everybody
Everybody, is a part...
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Everybody, is a part of the whole of the system
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
Faster, faster, to welcome disaster
song performed by Yello
Added by Lucian Velea
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Little Honda
Go!
Im gonna wake you up early
Cause Im gonna take a ride with you
Were going down to the honda shop
Ill tell you what were gonna do
Put on a ragged sweatshirt
Ill take you anywhere you want me to
First gear (honda honda) its alright (faster faster)
Second gear (little honda honda) I lean right (faster faster)
Third gear (honda honda) hang on tight (faster faster)
Faster its alright
Its not a big motorcycle
Just a groovy little motorbike
Its more fun that a barrel of monkeys
That two wheel bike
Well ride on out of the town
To any place I know you like
First gear (honda honda) its alright (faster faster)
Second gear (little honda honda) I lean right (faster faster)
Third gear (honda honda) hang on tight (faster faster)
Faster its alright
It climbs the hills like a matchless
Cause my hondas built really light
When I go into the turns
Lean [tilt] with me and hang on tight
I better turn on the lights
So we can ride my honda tonight
First gear (honda honda) its alright (faster faster)
Second gear (little honda honda) I lean right (faster faster)
Third gear (honda honda) hang on tight (faster faster)
Faster its alright
First gear (honda honda) its alright (faster faster)
Second gear (little honda honda) I lean right (faster faster)
Third gear (honda honda) hang on tight (faster faster)
Faster its alright
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Faster Than The Speed Of The Night
(Jim Steinman)
I don't want to let another minute got by
They're slipping tho ough out finger, but we're ready to fly
The night'll be our cover and we'll huddle below
We got the music in our bodies and the radio
And when the mourning arrives it'll all be gone
Disappearing in (to) the crack of dawn
We better make our move now before the sun is awake
It's time to put up or shut up and to pick up the pace
And I don't want to let another minute go by
Love is going to get us while the moon is in the sky
We may be running out of night, but never running out of steam
We're acting on a hunch, and we'll be acting out a dream
There really isn't any time to lose
They're going to catch us if we wait until it gets too light
You're such a pretty boy
Let me show you what to do, and you'll do it
But you gotta move faster
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
It's all we ever wanted
And it's all we'll ever need
And it's slipping through our fingers
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
It's all we ever wanted
And it's all we'll ever need
And it's slipping through our fingers
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Let me show you how to drive me crazy
Let me show you how to make me feel so good
Let me show you how to take me to the edgeof the stars and then back again
You've gotta show me how to drive you crazy
You've gotta show me all the things you want to happen to you
We've gotta tell each other everything we always wanted someone to do
I don't want to push you now and I don't want to rush
We're getting closer every second now, but close is not enough
The night'll be our cover and we'll huddle below
We got the musicin our fingers and the radio
There really isn't any time to lose
We're going to lose it if we wait until it gets too light
You're such a pretty boy
Let me show you what to do, and you'll do it
[...] Read more
song performed by Bonnie Tyler
Added by Lucian Velea
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Faster Than The Speed Of Night
(jim steinman)
Producer for bonnie: jim steinman
I dont want to let another minute get by
Theyre slipping through our fingers, but were ready to fly
The nightll be our cover and well huddle below
We got the music in our bodies and the radio
And when the morning arrives itll all be gone
Disappearing in (to) the crack of dawn
We better make our move now before the sun is awake
Its time to put up or shut up and to pick up the pace
And I dont want to let another minute get by
Love is going to get us while the moon is in the sky
We may be running out of night, but never running out of steam
Were acting on a hunch, and well be acting out a dream
There really isnt any time to lose
Theyre going to catch us if we wait until it gets too light
Youre such a pretty boy
Let me show you what to do, and youll do it
But you gotta move faster
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Its all we ever wanted
And all well ever need
And its slipping through our fingers
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Its all we ever wanted
And all well ever need
And its slipping through our fingers
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Faster than the speed of night
Let me show you how to drive me crazy
Let me show you how to make me feel so good
Let me show you how to take me to the edge of the stars and then back again
Youve gotta show me how to drive you crazy
Youve gotta show me all the things you want to happen to you
Weve gotta tell each other everything we always wanted someone to do
I dont want to push you now and I dont want to rush
Were getting closer every second now, but close is not enough
The nightll be our cover and well huddle below
We got the music in our fingers and the radio
There really isnt any time to lose
Were going to lose it if we wait until it gets too light
Youre such a pretty boy
Let me show you what to do, and youll do it
[...] Read more
song performed by Bonnie Tyler
Added by Lucian Velea
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(No More) Love At Your Convenience
Your childish game is over now.
Lost your power over night some how.
Better see it ain't gonna be like it used to be.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your command.
No more love at your convenience.
Lots of time late at night, I really needed you.
I'm telling you tonight's the night.
Close your mouth
Turn off the light.
Pull me babe.
Pull me down closer on you.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your command.
No more love at your convenience.
Lots of time late at night, I really needed you.
I really needed you.
I really needed you.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your command.
No more love at your convenience.
Quit your tears and dry your eyes.
You know I hate to see you cry.
Don't you see,
Things gotta be what they got to.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your convenience.
No more love at your convenience
song performed by Alice Cooper
Added by Lucian Velea
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Canto the First
I
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,
I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan—
We all have seen him, in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time.
II
Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,
Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,
And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now;
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk,
Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.
III
Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,
Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know:
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet,
Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau,
With many of the military set,
Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.
IV
Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,
And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd;
There's no more to be said of Trafalgar,
'T is with our hero quietly inurn'd;
Because the army's grown more popular,
At which the naval people are concern'd;
Besides, the prince is all for the land-service,
Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.
V
Brave men were living before Agamemnon
And since, exceeding valorous and sage,
A good deal like him too, though quite the same none;
But then they shone not on the poet's page,
And so have been forgotten:—I condemn none,
But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.
[...] Read more
poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi
Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Only Way To Control Things
The only way to control things is with an open hand.
Water on rock
a fist can't do anything to stop the rain
that keeps washing its bloody knuckles
by kissing the raw red buds
of the pain-killing poppies clean.
Anger grows ashamed of itself
in the presence of unopposable compassion
just as planets are humbled by their atmospheres.
The soft supple things of life insist
and the hard brittle ones comply.
Bullies are the broken toys of wimps.
Power limps.
But space is an open hand.
Mass may shape it
but it teaches matter how to move
just as the sky converts its openness
into a cloud and a bird
or the silence nurtures
the embryo of a blue word
in the empty womb of the dark mother
like the echo of something that can't be said.
The only way to control things is with an open hand.
Not a posture of giving.
Not a posture of receiving.
Not a posture of greeting or farewell.
Not hanging on or letting go
but the single bridge they both make
when they're both at peace with the flow.
It's not the branch it's not the trunk
it's not the root it's not the fruit
but the open handedness of its leaves
that is a tree's consummate passion.
Isis tattoos her star on their palms
like sailors and sails
to keep them from drowning
and into the valleys of their open hands
that lie at the foot of their crook-backed mountains
the aloof stars risk the intimacy of fireflies
and fate flows down like tributaries into the mindstream
as life roots its wildflowers on both shores
as if there were no sides to the flowing
of our binary lifelines.
The only way to control things is with an open hand.
You cannot bind the knower to the knowing
as if time had to know where eternity was going
before anything could change.
X marks the spot where all maps are born
[...] Read more
poem by Patrick White
Added by Poetry Lover
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Back Home
Yeah yeah yeah
Well Im going back this summer to ohio
Im gonna seek out all my friends Ive always known
Im goin back to that farm that I remember
Well Im goin to spend this summer back home
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Back home (back home)
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Back home (back home)
Im gonna get up every morning before the roosters
Ill run downstairs fix my breakfast all alone
Ill milk those cows feed the chickens and the horses
Well Im gonna spend this summer back home
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Back home (back home)
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Back home (back home)
Ill eat everything that ma puts on the table
When I get back you wont believe how Ive grown
Ill hit the sack early everynight thinkin bout tomorrow whoa oh
Well Im gonna spend this summer back home
Back home, back home, back home
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Thats what Im gonna do thats where Im gonna be, thats this summer
Back home (back home)
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Gonna get up, gonna get up, gonna get up every morning
Back home (back home)
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Hey woo feels okay back home
Back home (back home)
Back home (back home, back home, back home)
Ill spend my summer (back home)
Back home
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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VII. Pompilia
I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.
All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.
Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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V. Count Guido Franceschini
Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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III. The Other Half-Rome
Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!
There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Ninth Book
EVEN thus. I pause to write it out at length,
The letter of the Lady Waldemar.–
'I prayed your cousin Leigh to take you this,
He says he'll do it. After years of love,
Or what is called so,–when a woman frets
And fools upon one string of a man's name,
And fingers it for ever till it breaks,–
He may perhaps do for her such thing,
And she accept it without detriment
Although she should not love him any more
And I, who do not love him, nor love you,
Nor you, Aurora,–choose you shall repent
Your most ungracious letter, and confess,
Constrained by his convictions, (he's convinced)
You've wronged me foully. Are you made so ill,
You woman–to impute such ill to me?
We both had mothers,–lay in their bosom once.
Why, after all, I thank you, Aurora Leigh,
For proving to myself that there are things
I would not do, . . not for my life . . nor him . .
Though something I have somewhat overdone,–
For instance, when I went to see the gods
One morning, on Olympus, with a step
That shook the thunder in a certain cloud,
Committing myself vilely. Could I think,
The Muse I pulled my heart out from my breast
To soften, had herself a sort of heart,
And loved my mortal? He, at least, loved her;
I heard him say so; 'twas my recompence,
When, watching at his bedside fourteen days,
He broke out ever like a flame at whiles
Between the heats of fever . . . 'Is it thou?
'Breathe closer, sweetest mouth!' and when at last
The fever gone, the wasted face extinct
As if it irked him much to know me there,
He said, Twas kind, 'twas good, 'twas womanly,'
(And fifty praises to excuse one love)
'But was the picture safe he had ventured for?'
And then, half wandering . . 'I have loved her well,
Although she could not love me.'–'Say instead,'
I answered, 'that she loves you.'–'Twas my turn
To rave: (I would have married him so changed,
Although the world had jeered me properly
For taking up with Cupid at his worst,
The silver quiver worn off on his hair.)
'No, no,' he murmured, 'no, she loves me not;
'Aurora Leigh does better: bring her book
'And read it softly, Lady Waldemar,
'Until I thank your friendship more for that,
[...] Read more
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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Tom Zart's 52 Best Of The Rest America At War Poems
SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III
The White House
Washington
Tom Zart's Poems
March 16,2007
Ms. Lillian Cauldwell
President and Chief Executive Officer
Passionate Internet Voices Radio
Ann Arbor Michigan
Dear Lillian:
Number 41 passed on the CDs from Tom Zart. Thank you for thinking of me. I am thankful for your efforts to honor our brave military personnel and their families. America owes these courageous men and women a debt of gratitude, and I am honored to be the commander in chief of the greatest force for freedom in the history of the world.
Best Wishes.
Sincerely,
George W. Bush
SONS AND DAUGHTERS OF WORLD WAR III
Our sons and daughters serve in harm's way
To defend our way of life.
Some are students, some grandparents
Many a husband or wife.
They face great odds without complaint
Gambling life and limb for little pay.
So far away from all they love
Fight our soldiers for whom we pray.
The plotters and planners of America's doom
Pledge to murder and maim all they can.
From early childhood they are taught
To kill is to become a man.
They exploit their young as weapons of choice
Teaching in heaven, virgins will await.
Destroying lives along with their own
To learn of their falsehoods too late.
The fearful cry we must submit
And find a way to soothe them.
Where defenders worry if we stand down
The future for America is grim.
[...] Read more
poem by Tom Zart
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Faster and Faster
Faster and faster the whole world appears to be going
and all that we make and do this indication is showing.
Take for example our modes of transport and communication
the emphasis is on greater speed being the general observation.
Where will it all end? is a question some people often ask
and will the end justify the means to accomplish the task?
To get the most things done possible in the minimum time
trying not to forsake good quality which would be a crime.
Faster and faster the whole world appears to be going
and mankind is the instigator of this situation growing.
And how long will all the available natural resources last?
as we use them all up to produce many things so very fast.
Care for the environment is an issue that is of some concern
but how much damage will be done to it before we all learn?
Recycling of re-usable material has quickly gained an acceptable hold
and methods of waste management or disposal have become quite bold.
Faster and faster the whole world appears to be going
and costs involved have out of proportion been blowing.
Although there has been a tendency lately to reduce and minimize the price
as long as making things faster, keeping up with the demand is profitably nice.
‘Time is money’ and the longer something takes to make the greater its cost
with advancements in technology quality over quantity isn’t seen to be lost.
Affordable and appealing to the average buyer is what the market demands
as people go around looking at all the items displayed in shop floor stands.
Faster and faster the whole world appears to be going
and in that direction which hardly anyone is knowing.
Apart from all the reasonable educated theories and speculation
much is left to be desired that requires our utmost consideration.
To find oneself being left behind isn’t what anyone wants to face
thus the effort to move along with the rest in this human rat race.
We all have our individual pride and self esteem to maintain in shape
and going faster and faster toward our destination there is no escape.
Faster and faster we are making this world of ours to go
reflecting the condition of our minds we ought to know.
A person whose mind is working too fast becomes as one mad
can’t we imagine what would happen if everyone gets this bad?
We really need to slow down a bit and take stock of where we find ourselves now
‘cause otherwise the situation might get out of control and force all of us somehow
to have many bitter regrets over what could have been avoided if we had only surely known
as there’s enough evidence from the past to suggest a warning before disaster we’re thrown.
[...] Read more
poem by George Krokos
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Geraint And Enid
O purblind race of miserable men,
How many among us at this very hour
Do forge a life-long trouble for ourselves,
By taking true for false, or false for true;
Here, through the feeble twilight of this world
Groping, how many, until we pass and reach
That other, where we see as we are seen!
So fared it with Geraint, who issuing forth
That morning, when they both had got to horse,
Perhaps because he loved her passionately,
And felt that tempest brooding round his heart,
Which, if he spoke at all, would break perforce
Upon a head so dear in thunder, said:
'Not at my side. I charge thee ride before,
Ever a good way on before; and this
I charge thee, on thy duty as a wife,
Whatever happens, not to speak to me,
No, not a word!' and Enid was aghast;
And forth they rode, but scarce three paces on,
When crying out, 'Effeminate as I am,
I will not fight my way with gilded arms,
All shall be iron;' he loosed a mighty purse,
Hung at his belt, and hurled it toward the squire.
So the last sight that Enid had of home
Was all the marble threshold flashing, strown
With gold and scattered coinage, and the squire
Chafing his shoulder: then he cried again,
'To the wilds!' and Enid leading down the tracks
Through which he bad her lead him on, they past
The marches, and by bandit-haunted holds,
Gray swamps and pools, waste places of the hern,
And wildernesses, perilous paths, they rode:
Round was their pace at first, but slackened soon:
A stranger meeting them had surely thought
They rode so slowly and they looked so pale,
That each had suffered some exceeding wrong.
For he was ever saying to himself,
'O I that wasted time to tend upon her,
To compass her with sweet observances,
To dress her beautifully and keep her true'--
And there he broke the sentence in his heart
Abruptly, as a man upon his tongue
May break it, when his passion masters him.
And she was ever praying the sweet heavens
To save her dear lord whole from any wound.
And ever in her mind she cast about
For that unnoticed failing in herself,
Which made him look so cloudy and so cold;
Till the great plover's human whistle amazed
[...] Read more
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The Courtship of Miles Standish
I
MILES STANDISH
In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims
To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling,
Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather,
Strode, with a martial air, Miles Standish the Puritan Captain.
Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands behind him, and pausing
Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons of warfare,
Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber, --
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damascus,
Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic sentence,
While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, and matchlock.
Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic,
Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews of iron;
Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already
Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in November.
Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household companion,
Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window:
Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion,
Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the captives
Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, "Not Angles, but Angels."
Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the Mayflower.
Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupting,
Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth.
"Look at these arms," he said, "the war-like weapons that hang here
Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or inspection!
This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in Flanders; this breastplate,
Well I remember the day! once save my life in a skirmish;
Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet
Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero.
Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of Miles Standish
Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the Flemish morasses."
Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from his writing:
"Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the speed of the bullet;
He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield and our weapon!"
Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words of the stripling:
"See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an arsenal hanging;
That is because I have done it myself, and not left it to others.
Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an excellent adage;
So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens and your inkhorn.
Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, invincible army,
Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and his matchlock,
Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and pillage,
And, like Caesar, I know the name of each of my soldiers!"
This he said with a smile, that danced in his eyes, as the sunbeams
Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish again in a moment.
Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain continued:
"Look! you can see from this window my brazen howitzer planted
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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