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Caution: These verses may be hazardous to your solemnity.

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Lovers Walk

I wont walk with my head bowed
(be on) beyond caution where lovers walk
My love walks where threes a crowd
Beyond caution where lovers walk
Lovers walk, lovers scramble
Beyond caution where the lovers walk
Lovers step, shuffle and gamble
Beyond caution where lovers walk
Lovers trip, lovers stumble
Lovers dip, lovers fumble
Lovers lip where love has crumbled
Beyond caution where lovers walk
Lovers strut, lovers stroll, lovers leap
Lovers late, lovers wait
Making promises that they cant keep
Lovers link up arm and arm
Lovers slink up, lovers charm
Lovers drink up and come to harm
Beyond caution where lovers walk
Love is gone and its no ones fault
Love has stopped here, lovers halt
Lovers dont walk, lovers run
Will you look what love has done
Will you look what love has done
Will you look what love has done
Beyond caution where lovers walk
Now loves limping on a lovers crutch
Looking for a hand with a personal touch
Beyond caution where lovers walk

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The Interpretation of Nature and

I.

MAN, being the servant and interpreter of Nature, can do and understand so much and so much only as he has observed in fact or in thought of the course of nature: beyond this he neither knows anything nor can do anything.


II.

Neither the naked hand nor the understanding left to itself can effect much. It is by instruments and helps that the work is done, which are as much wanted for the understanding as for the hand. And as the instruments of the hand either give motion or guide it, so the instruments of the mind supply either suggestions for the understanding or cautions.

III.

Human knowledge and human power meet in one; for where the cause is not known the effect cannot be produced. Nature to be commanded must be obeyed; and that which in contemplation is as the cause is in operation as the rule.

IV.

Towards the effecting of works, all that man can do is to put together or put asunder natural bodies. The rest is done by nature working within.

V.

The study of nature with a view to works is engaged in by the mechanic, the mathematician, the physician, the alchemist, and the magician; but by all (as things now are) with slight endeavour and scanty success.

VI.

It would be an unsound fancy and self-contradictory to expect that things which have never yet been done can be done except by means which have never yet been tried.

VII.

The productions of the mind and hand seem very numerous in books and manufactures. But all this variety lies in an exquisite subtlety and derivations from a few things already known; not in the number of axioms.

VIII.

Moreover the works already known are due to chance and experiment rather than to sciences; for the sciences we now possess are merely systems for the nice ordering and setting forth of things already invented; not methods of invention or directions for new works.

IX.

The cause and root of nearly all evils in the sciences is this -- that while we falsely admire and extol the powers of the human mind we neglect to seek for its true helps.

X.

The subtlety of nature is greater many times over than the subtlety of the senses and understanding; so that all those specious meditations, speculations, and glosses in which men indulge are quite from the purpose, only there is no one by to observe it.

XI.

As the sciences which we now have do not help us in finding out new works, so neither does the logic which we now have help us in finding out new sciences.

XII.

The logic now in use serves rather to fix and give stability to the errors which have their foundation in commonly received notions than to help the search after truth. So it does more harm than good.

XIII.

[...] Read more

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Caution

When it comes to love
we see the warning signs,
caution and don’t go there,
but because of who we are,
we ignore them all the time.
We reverse the signs of caution and don’t go there.
Throwing caution to the wind,
we go without a care.
It is only when love dies
and our heart is beyond repair,
do we realise we should have listened
to the warning signs
caution and don’t go there.
Then it is too late
and there is no turning back.
Tears flood our eyes
and sadness fills our heart.
We should always read the signs
and not ignore them all the time.
If it reads caution,
we should tread carefully,
and if reads don’t go there,
we should take its advice
and go elsewhere.


16 January 2008

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The Pastor

He was a boy next door from the fishing village of Galle
Who answered his tug from heaven like Saul abiding to God's call
A quiet voice peeled away the solemnity of his peace
As the boy transformed in tune to a new life's lease

Then he joined the halls of a budding boys seminary
Yet one eve while going to town (Kohuwala) , he encountered Marie
A dainty lass with a heavenly gait and an eternal smile
As his life metamorphosed from the road less traveled, to a woman's guile

Yet the pull of God was complete and steadfast
Like a giant arm from heaven steering your heart
As the prayers parted his lips with a solemnity unforeseen
A life of prayer and solitude beckoned away from his queen

Then one day as he took his solemn oath
Amidst the white overalls there was a lass who loathed
Her lover's commitment to God, unwavering, even amidst her passion and love
As his lips parted with agreement, to serve the downtrodden with fraternal love

Then as years passed she would finally meet a knight in shining armor
As the heart would yield from the past's hurt to welcome splendorous amor
She would look at the heavens and thank God for the new guy in her life
As she embarked on a future not of a queen but of a content wife

Yet amidst the love she carried for the youth in her path
She could never forget the touch nor the boyish grin of her prince of her past
As the marshmellows roasted above the camping inferno
She would lean next to the youth and whisper 'I want you forever, at hello'

Then the day finally arrived as she parted from her parents
As showers sprung forth, blessings in their monsoon torrents
As two became one, amidst the showers of providence
Love blossomed between two hearts in their unique resonance

Amidst the audience there was a youth in a white robe
Who wiped away the tears that sprung forth
As a collage of their past ran amok his naive psyche
As he was about to lose forever, his most treasured key

The key to his heart that reigned even amidst God's calling
The key that turned his heart to unconditional love's falling
The key to his happiness that loomed large like Nimbus in a monsoon sky
The key that he threw away to answer God's call from the heavenly sky

Then as the ceremony reached its absorbing zenith
There was a heart waiting in a corner, beneath
Wanting so much now, to stand on the elevated alter
As the proceedings transformed from solemnity, to love's falter

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Verses Wrought

I do not know just how or when, God will send something to my pen,
From something that's on my heart, a thought God desires to impart,
Throughout my day, just as I go, thoughts from above seem to flow,
While I begin with simply a thought, by The Spirit verses are wrought.

It is The Lord God, Who blesses me, with these verses, that you see,
As these words that I pass along; the credit for all, does truly belong,
To The Lord God, Who reigns above, inspiring the verses, I speak of,
These very words, which I pen, that God has me share with other men.

God pens verses from my prose, through ways only The Spirit knows,
This when God's Spirit is inclined, to guide these thoughts in my mind,
In ways which only The Spirit can, as my Lord fills just an ordinary pen,
God blessing me, with His choice, to use my pen, instead of my voice.

Blessings, I hope to pass your way, with verses, on what I have to say,
As The Lord moves upon my heart, regarding thoughts I wish to impart,
From my thoughts God takes words, and He compiles them into verse,
Through ways that only God can do, so that I may share them with you.

Sharing with many through my life, the Truth and Grace of Jesus Christ,
Sharing Truths, you may have heard, that you find in God's Holy Word,
And Grace, which God bestows on us, when we follow The Lord Jesus,
All this as my Savior blesses me, while He guides me home to Eternity.

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Three prayers during spring

I. I did not expect this early spring

I did not expect that after this severe winter
that destroyed flowers, grass and plants
that this early
without even rain falling, showering down
spring would come in all this glory

with trees blossoming in bright white and pink colours
plants flowering
unfurling and to be again really living.

I did not expect these blessings,
in life’s early winter
that even though I am constrained,
my career is falling to pieces
and not by my own making
my words, my verses
are coming to their own

and this has brought me
to see that God is truly great
that even the seasons of life
is in His hand.


II. My buds are form Your hand

I thank you Lord that you by grace are blessing me
causing my slender flowers to grow,
that you let my words pour down like rain

hanging flooding over in bell like strings
in internodes, joints of roses
in a pure white colouring which catches the eye

that by love you delegate me as the one
who is worth to blossom in your shade.
I thank you Lord that you by grace are blessing me

not like others of my kind, but hanging
with odourless buds opening
in internodes, joints of roses

in strings upon strings
and although some people want to prune me of blunt,
that you let my words pour down like rain

although people hit in nails
ridicule, hold my words, my verses in parody

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Caution

[Bob Marley]
Wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo-wo.
Wo-wo-wo-wo, wo-wo-wo-wo.
Here I am walkin' down the street (Walkin', walkin', walkin', walkin',
walkin', walkin', walkin', walkin', walkin', walkin', walkin',
walkin')
And the children: everything is so sweet.
(Wo-wo-wo sweet! Wo-wo-wo sweet!)
I'm doin' my best and I'm doin' it slow,
But there is just one thing I would like you to know.
Ooh, when you wet, it's slippery, yeah. Uh!
When it damp, it crampin'!
If it's slidin', you'll tumble down,
Won't want you on the ground.
Oh-oh-oh! Caution: the road is wet;
Black soul is black as jet. Did you hear me?
Caution: the road is hot;
Still you got to do better than that!
'Cause when you wet, it's slippery, yeah. It's slippery, yeah!
When it damp, it crampin'! When it damp, it crampin'!
If it slidin' up and down-a,
Don't want you on the ground. Brother!
Hit me from the top,
You crazy muthafunkin'!
Hit me from the top,
You crazy muthafunkin'!
Hit me from the top,
Crazy muthafunkin'! Eh!
When you wet, it's slippery, yeah. Uh!
When it damp, it crampin!
If you slidin', you're tumblin' down,
Don't want you on the ground! Don't, don't!
Caution: the road is wet;
Black soul is black as jet. Black soul!
Caution: the road is hot;
Yeah, you got to do better than that!
/fadeout/

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Ain't No Lookin Back

All of your ghosts
Litter the horizon
Glittering carcasses
I guess that makes twice then
Just like your daisies
And all of your buffallo
You dont worry
The children will mend what you tore
You dress yourself in sharkbites
You kill yourself in spoonfuls
You damn all the beehives
You make love to potholes
Your attention is a junkie
It has a wandering vien
And all of your thoughtlessness
Is dried up rain
Aint no lookin back, now---is there kid?
You always look to the west
You throw caution to the wind
You're on a one way track
But you cant buy caution back---can you kid?
You killed a man
Because you made him borrow
One suicide is made up
Of ten thousand tiny sorrows
America's great
Its the land of the free
We're so independant
That we forgot how to breathe
Aint no lookin back, now---is there kid?
You always look to the west
You throw caution to the wind
You're on a one way track
But you cant buy caution back---can you kid?
Show me one hero
Who ain't afraid of fear
Show me one adult
That knows how to hear
"we are the future"
At least thats what you said
I wanna know:
Who's the hope of today?
There's no lookin back now for you---is there kid?
All of your ghosts
Litter the horizon
Glittering carcasses
I guess that makes twice then
Just like your daisies
And all of your buffallo
You dont worry

[...] Read more

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Rosalind and Helen: a Modern Eclogue

ROSALIND, HELEN, and her Child.

SCENE. The Shore of the Lake of Como.

HELEN
Come hither, my sweet Rosalind.
'T is long since thou and I have met;
And yet methinks it were unkind
Those moments to forget.
Come, sit by me. I see thee stand
By this lone lake, in this far land,
Thy loose hair in the light wind flying,
Thy sweet voice to each tone of even
United, and thine eyes replying
To the hues of yon fair heaven.
Come, gentle friend! wilt sit by me?
And be as thou wert wont to be
Ere we were disunited?
None doth behold us now; the power
That led us forth at this lone hour
Will be but ill requited
If thou depart in scorn. Oh, come,
And talk of our abandoned home!
Remember, this is Italy,
And we are exiles. Talk with me
Of that our land, whose wilds and floods,
Barren and dark although they be,
Were dearer than these chestnut woods;
Those heathy paths, that inland stream,
And the blue mountains, shapes which seem
Like wrecks of childhood's sunny dream;
Which that we have abandoned now,
Weighs on the heart like that remorse
Which altered friendship leaves. I seek
No more our youthful intercourse.
That cannot be! Rosalind, speak,
Speak to me! Leave me not! When morn did come,
When evening fell upon our common home,
When for one hour we parted,--do not frown;
I would not chide thee, though thy faith is broken;
But turn to me. Oh! by this cherished token
Of woven hair, which thou wilt not disown,
Turn, as 't were but the memory of me,
And not my scornèd self who prayed to thee!

ROSALIND
Is it a dream, or do I see
And hear frail Helen? I would flee
Thy tainting touch; but former years
Arise, and bring forbidden tears;

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The Ghost - Book IV

Coxcombs, who vainly make pretence
To something of exalted sense
'Bove other men, and, gravely wise,
Affect those pleasures to despise,
Which, merely to the eye confined,
Bring no improvement to the mind,
Rail at all pomp; they would not go
For millions to a puppet-show,
Nor can forgive the mighty crime
Of countenancing pantomime;
No, not at Covent Garden, where,
Without a head for play or player,
Or, could a head be found most fit,
Without one player to second it,
They must, obeying Folly's call,
Thrive by mere show, or not at all
With these grave fops, who, (bless their brains!)
Most cruel to themselves, take pains
For wretchedness, and would be thought
Much wiser than a wise man ought,
For his own happiness, to be;
Who what they hear, and what they see,
And what they smell, and taste, and feel,
Distrust, till Reason sets her seal,
And, by long trains of consequences
Insured, gives sanction to the senses;
Who would not (Heaven forbid it!) waste
One hour in what the world calls Taste,
Nor fondly deign to laugh or cry,
Unless they know some reason why;
With these grave fops, whose system seems
To give up certainty for dreams,
The eye of man is understood
As for no other purpose good
Than as a door, through which, of course,
Their passage crowding, objects force,
A downright usher, to admit
New-comers to the court of Wit:
(Good Gravity! forbear thy spleen;
When I say Wit, I Wisdom mean)
Where (such the practice of the court,
Which legal precedents support)
Not one idea is allow'd
To pass unquestion'd in the crowd,
But ere it can obtain the grace
Of holding in the brain a place,
Before the chief in congregation
Must stand a strict examination.
Not such as those, who physic twirl,
Full fraught with death, from every curl;

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Oliver Goldsmith

Vida's Game Of Chess

TRANSLATED

ARMIES of box that sportively engage
And mimic real battles in their rage,
Pleased I recount; how, smit with glory's charms,
Two mighty Monarchs met in adverse arms,
Sable and white; assist me to explore,
Ye Serian Nymphs, what ne'er was sung before.
No path appears: yet resolute I stray
Where youth undaunted bids me force my way.
O'er rocks and cliffs while I the task pursue,
Guide me, ye Nymphs, with your unerring clue.
For you the rise of this diversion know,
You first were pleased in Italy to show
This studious sport; from Scacchis was its name,
The pleasing record of your Sister's fame.

When Jove through Ethiopia's parch'd extent
To grace the nuptials of old Ocean went,
Each god was there; and mirth and joy around
To shores remote diffused their happy sound.
Then when their hunger and their thirst no more
Claim'd their attention, and the feast was o'er;
Ocean with pastime to divert the thought,
Commands a painted table to be brought.
Sixty-four spaces fill the chequer'd square;
Eight in each rank eight equal limits share.
Alike their form, but different are their dyes,
They fade alternate, and alternate rise,
White after black; such various stains as those
The shelving backs of tortoises disclose.
Then to the gods that mute and wondering sate,
You see (says he) the field prepared for fate.
Here will the little armies please your sight,
With adverse colours hurrying to the fight:
On which so oft, with silent sweet surprise,
The Nymphs and Nereids used to feast their eyes,
And all the neighbours of the hoary deep,
When calm the sea, and winds were lull'd asleep
But see, the mimic heroes tread the board;
He said, and straightway from an urn he pour'd
The sculptured box, that neatly seem'd to ape
The graceful figure of a human shape:--
Equal the strength and number of each foe,
Sixteen appear'd like jet, sixteen like snow.
As their shape varies various is the name,
Different their posts, nor is their strength the same.
There might you see two Kings with equal pride
Gird on their arms, their Consorts by their side;
Here the Foot-warriors glowing after fame,

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Charles Baudelaire

Spleen (II)

J'ai plus de souvenirs que si j'avais mille ans.

Un gros meuble à tiroirs encombré de bilans,
De vers, de billets doux, de procès, de romances,
Avec de lourds cheveux roulés dans des quittances,
Cache moins de secrets que mon triste cerveau.
C'est une pyramide, un immense caveau,
Qui contient plus de morts que la fosse commune.
— Je suis un cimetière abhorré de la lune,
Où comme des remords se traînent de longs vers
Qui s'acharnent toujours sur mes morts les plus chers.
Je suis un vieux boudoir plein de roses fanées,
Où gît tout un fouillis de modes surannées,
Où les pastels plaintifs et les pâles Boucher
Seuls, respirent l'odeur d'un flacon débouché.

Rien n'égale en longueur les boiteuses journées,
Quand sous les lourds flocons des neigeuses années
L'ennui, fruit de la morne incuriosité,
Prend les proportions de l'immortalité.
— Désormais tu n'es plus, ô matière vivante!
Qu'un granit entouré d'une vague épouvante,
Assoupi dans le fond d'un Sahara brumeux;
Un vieux sphinx ignoré du monde insoucieux,
Oublié sur la carte, et dont l'humeur farouche
Ne chante qu'aux rayons du soleil qui se couche.

---------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------

Spleen

I have more memories than if I'd lived a thousand years.

A heavy chest of drawers cluttered with balance-sheets,
Processes, love-letters, verses, ballads,
And heavy locks of hair enveloped in receipts,
Hides fewer secrets than my gloomy brain.
It is a pyramid, a vast burial vault
Which contains more corpses than potter's field.
— I am a cemetery abhorred by the moon,
In which long worms crawl like remorse
And constantly harass my dearest dead.
I am an old boudoir full of withered roses,
Where lies a whole litter of old-fashioned dresses,
Where the plaintive pastels and the pale Bouchers,
Alone, breathe in the fragrance from an opened phial.

Nothing is so long as those limping days,
When under the heavy flakes of snowy years
Ennui, the fruit of dismal apathy,

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I heard thy verses

I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine,
text lines thank thine Italian fettuccini,
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine.

Thy bare feet on grapes dance for wine,
Bound to thee my greed for baked panini,
I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine.

Thy radish desire - in veins is flow malign,
dance fayre amid spud and fresh zucchini,
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine.

Thy casseroles enjoy thee, as I be on line,
dare to kisse thy big toe- al dente linguini,
I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine.

Oh, fayre maiden thy kisse doe not decline,
Thy coles 'n' lettuce I love, wear a beanie,
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine.

Thou doe not cook bacon wearing a bikini,
thy squash embrac'd art, e'er to enshrine.
I heard thy verses amidst thine aubergine.
tho' slightly thy melon guiled my arccosine

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Intelligent Design

I, dot, would score, scour ocean floor,
you too were dot, not more.
We'd LOOP the LOOP in primaeval soup
our POOL gene POOL core corps.
We'd POLO here, there POLO for
none then knew scoop could droop.
We'd grin, twin core to win encore
no sour sin, hour, no law!
No fairies, flowers' fragrant bower,
nor need, nor greed for power.
No men's omens, hymns, amens dour,
no hymen's Babylonian tower -
no cause because nor clause, paws' claws,
no doors, chores, flaws, no pause.

I'd stoop, you'd swoop, with helluva whoop -
no care, unfair dis....pair.
Above, below, we'd group, regroup
all with no 'mal[e] de mer'.
Amino here, ah me! know there
was troop on troop on troop, -
we'd pair, repair, again prepare
see sea combine with air.

We'd twirl, we'd whirl, like a hoola-hoop
around, around some more,
in tune to moon as cock-a-hoop
we'd twin, to spin restore.
Linked chain would roam upon Time's foam,
off shore s[p]aw[n], sink or soar,
'neath starry dome in mono chrome,
no after, no before!

We'd skirl, we'd swirl, up, down would curl,
ages of practised ease,
we'd furl, unfurl, in endless whorl,
world with no word disease.
When I was girl and you my pearl,

no men, to bend, no knees, -
no need but feed we all agreed
to speed on pretty please!

No peg was round, no hole square found,
when round and round half, whole,
ringed whole half bound by no compound
too stable. Time redoled
quad code surround life force around
niche roles from pole to pole.
Unsound were some, some sound, none crowned

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Rubaiyat Of A Robin - After Edward Fitzgerald - Rubaiyat Of Omar Khayyam

Jest plays with rubaiyat and, four by four,
unseals for your amusement more and more
verses together thread in rosary
unreeled to bloom till tomb will curtains draw.

Repealed are value judgement and perspective
revealed through standpoint purely introspective,
darkside concealed of moon’s yin-yang shines clear
when we’re in orbit, - option more effective.

Rolled form performs rôle midwife to perception,
sprung tongue in cheek, tweaks sense of imperfection
or willingness to leach between the lines,
impeach entrenched ideas of self-[s]election.

This prose arose as stream deprived of section,
where ‘dip at will’ will still sustain inspection,
the current’s sense, at odds with current views
ignores round holes, square pegs, top-down direction.

Here there’s no fear of critics’ peer rejection,
contention treated with due circumspection
intention is to mention for retention
an overview or clue to extrospection.

Life’s curtains are a veil through which few see,
as many haste taste-waste eternity,
mixed up, ignore life fixes finite sum
to/through infinite opportunity.

Can “Truth” exist? all ask, who seek its core,
we, modest, etch our words to sketch the score,
diverse the verses which converge to link
reflections mirrored many times before.

Vast content, style, a while, united are,
aim at soul stimulation, nothing bar,
to pleasure, treasure, or discard at will
as minds outreach to other minds on par.

Meditating, we shed light on what
tomorrow’s tot may factor into ‘bot’ -
the poet’s lot, forgot, to help all think
ahead of time, enhance life for a lot

Some seek Nirvana, Faith speaks more than “how”.
Others reject Salvation’s wraith, - w[h]ine “now”.
Verifying facts? Inventing dreams?
Each furrow-burrows with a different plough.

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The Mask Of Anarchy

I.
As I lay asleep in Italy
There came a voice from over the Sea,
And with great power it forth led me
To walk in the visions of Poesy.

II.
I met Murder on the way-
He had a mask like Castlereagh-
Very smooth he looked, yet grim;
Seven blood-hounds followed him:

III.
All were fat; and well they might
Be in admirable plight,
For one by one, and two by two,
He tossed them human hearts to chew
Which from his wide cloak he drew.

IV.
Next came Fraud, and he had on,
Like Eldon, an ermined gown;
His big tears, for he wept well,
Turned to mill-stones as they fell.

V.
And the little children, who
Round his feet played to and fro,
Thinking every tear a gem,
Had their brains knocked out by them.

VI.
Clothed with the Bible, as with light,
And the shadows of the night,
Like Sidmouth, next, Hypocrisy
On a crocodile rode by.

VII.
And many more Destructions played
In this ghastly masquerade,
All disguised, even to the eyes,
Like Bishops, lawyers, peers, or spies.

VIII.
Last came Anarchy: he rode
On a white horse, splashed with blood;
He was pale even to the lips,
Like Death in the Apocalypse.

IX.

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Alankar (Decor) -7

Angry Beings

Angry woman furious furious
Yelling yelling thunderous thunderous
Hitting her head vigorous vigorous
Slapping her face serious serious

Serious furious is angry man
Thunderous vigorous booing boos span
Serious vigorous his goblets plan
Thunderous serious late night elan

Angry woman furious furious
Yelling yelling thunderous thunderous
Hitting her head vigorous vigorous
Slapping her face serious serious

Hassling children dangerous hazardous
Battling home scene hazardous perilous

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Tenuous and Precarious

Tenuous and Precarious
Were my guardians,
Precarious and Tenuous,
Two Romans.

My father was Hazardous,
Hazardous
Dear old man,
Three Romans.

There was my brother Spurious,
Spurious Posthumous,
Spurious was Spurious,
Was four Romans.

My husband was Perfidious,
He was Perfidious
Five Romans.
Surreptitious, our son,
Was Surreptitious,
He was six Romans.

Our cat Tedious
Still lives,
Count not Tedious
Yet.

My name is Finis,
Finis, Finis,
I am Finis,
Six, five, four, three, two,
One Roman,
Finis.

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Classic Situation (Revised)

First time in months Mme La Pompadour managed to arise and make
the long, hazardous journey back – instructing all to complete every
job stat, ordering our small work community to walk around partitions
when conversing instead of neighbourly hanging over fences; I sighed
with content, little things stir feelings and we shall have fun again

It has been too quiet and rational without her here to end everyone’s
comfortable life, we shall grumble as she makes existence in the
trenches a living hell – for this we are paid, for this we shall stand
and fall as we toil on behalf of deprived language groups; it is so
good to be the target of aggression

It makes the adrenaline flow, puts our hackles up, unites us against
a common foe who looks down on us, the common folk, while Mme
La Pompadour does as she likes – this is the classic situation of
government employees everywhere, so glad to join the ranks of
the bitterly oppressed…


[ORIGINAL]

For the first time in many months
Madame La Pompadour managed
to get up and make the long and
hazardous journey to work

Instructing all to carry out every job
stat, ordering members of our small
work community to walk around
partitions when conversing

Instead of hanging over the fence in a
neighbourly way; I sighed with content
little things can stir up feelings and
we shall have fun again

It has been too quiet and rational around
here without her contribution to end every
one’s comfortable life, we shall grumble
as she makes life in the trenches

A living hell – fot this we are paid, for this
we shall stand and fall as we toil on behalf
of deprived language groups; it is so good
to be the target of aggression

It makes the adrenaline flow, puts our hackles
up, unites us against a common foe who looks
down on us, the common folk, while Madame
La Pompadour does as she likes

[...] Read more

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Always Beware

Whenever someone says caution,
we should always beware,
unless they tell us of the danger
we must always take care.
Sometimes it is used for people
whom someone think are a bad lot.
There we must make our own judgement,
and in doing so,
we might leave caution behind.
Therefore, whenever we hear caution,
we should always beware
and take care
until we know
the path we take is clear.

19 May 2008

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