Citatepedia^®.com

Nostalgia often leads to idle speculation.

quote by Paul Getty
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

To The Aggies Of Ateneo De Davao Around The World

nostalgia is the word for all these now
we have the urge to look out the window and find
who we were: the joys of the college years that will tickle us
old friends and their memories like innocent children
coming on our laps asking for our embraces
old pictures make our hearts shrink a little only to grow
bigger like a bread from the pan
fresh and fuming with the flavor of wheat

nostalgia is the word for it
and time is its mother that nourishes with its milk
the past comes to us always with something greener
and a breather of mint and rosemary
some peppers and honeyed lemonades

nostalgia is the word for it
when our wings have gone far beyond the lands of our births
dissolving in the horizons of other lands
when our chirps are gone

nostalgia is the word for it
when we come back stronger this time and lovelier
with our wounds that healed
with our pains that lost its trick

nostalgia is the word for it
such is she a beautiful woman still even though the hairs have turned gray
and the breasts sag and the bones rattling like brittle sticks

nostalgia is the word for it and no matter where the winds of this world
and its cyclones and waves have taken us
we are back looking for the glitter of each other's eyes
and then we laugh and then the world has heard us

yes, nostalgia is the word that people seldom use
as they move on with their respective lives

but we are here once again
nostalgia is the theme, it is here and soon it will leave
we are once again full even for once

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Refuse To Be The One With That Title

Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be one idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.

Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be one idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.

Looking ahead and keeping one's faith,
With a hold that shows one bridled.
Are the ones who never wait too late...
Until time from them has escaped.

Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.

Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be...idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.

Procrastinators are the ones to make mistakes.
And found to be...idle.
As they watch time from them fly right by...
While trying to catch up with slow strides.

Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be one idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.

Picking with an esteem,
A choice not to be...idle.
And not one to be guided by...
A looking with eyes from side to side.

Procrastinators are the ones to make mistakes.
And found to be those idle.
While trying to catch up with slow strides,
As they watch time from them fly right by.

Don't procrastinate and find it's much too late.
Refuse to be the one left idle.
Don't procrastinate and find it's much too late.
Refuse to be the one left idle.
Don't procrastinate and find it's much too late.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Tale XXI

The Learned Boy

An honest man was Farmer Jones, and true;
He did by all as all by him should do;
Grave, cautious, careful, fond of gain was he,
Yet famed for rustic hospitality:
Left with his children in a widow'd state,
The quiet man submitted to his fate;
Though prudent matrons waited for his call,
With cool forbearance he avoided all;
Though each profess'd a pure maternal joy,
By kind attention to his feeble boy;
And though a friendly Widow knew no rest,
Whilst neighbour Jones was lonely and distress'd;
Nay, though the maidens spoke in tender tone
Their hearts' concern to see him left alone,
Jones still persisted in that cheerless life,
As if 'twere sin to take a second wife.
Oh! 'tis a precious thing, when wives are dead,
To find such numbers who will serve instead;
And in whatever state a man be thrown,
'Tis that precisely they would wish their own;
Left the departed infants--then their joy
Is to sustain each lovely girl and boy:
Whatever calling his, whatever trade,
To that their chief attention has been paid;
His happy taste in all things they approve,
His friends they honour, and his food they love;
His wish for order, prudence in affairs,
An equal temper (thank their stars!), are theirs;
In fact, it seem'd to be a thing decreed,
And fix'd as fate, that marriage must succeed:
Yet some, like Jones, with stubborn hearts and

hard,
Can hear such claims and show them no regard.
Soon as our Farmer, like a general, found
By what strong foes he was encompass'd round,
Engage he dared not, and he could not fly,
But saw his hope in gentle parley lie;
With looks of kindness then, and trembling heart,
He met the foe, and art opposed to art.
Now spoke that foe insidious--gentle tones,
And gentle looks, assumed for Farmer Jones:
'Three girls,' the Widow cried, 'a lively three
To govern well--indeed it cannot be.'
'Yes,' he replied, 'it calls for pains and care:
But I must bear it.'--'Sir, you cannot bear;
Your son is weak, and asks a mother's eye:'
'That, my kind friend, a father's may supply.'

[...] Read more

poem by George Crabbe
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Some Speculation

There's been some speculation about a recent invitation
There's been some speculation about a recent invitation
What's your game?
What's his name?

Is it your inclination to accept this invitation?
Is it your inclination to accept this invitation?
What's your game?

Going away with someone new
Yesterday I went there too
Going away with someone new
Yesterday I went there too

There's been some speculation about a recent invitation
There's been some speculation about a recent invitation
What's your game?
What's his name?

Is it your inclination to accept this invitation?
Is it your inclination to accept this invitation?
What's your game?

Going away with someone new
Yesterday I went there too
Going away with someone new
Yesterday I went there too

song performed by Pet Shop Boys from Disco 2
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

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

poem by Sir Francis Bacon
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Lone Trail

Ye who know the Lone Trail fain would follow it,
Though it lead to glory or the darkness of the pit.
Ye who take the Lone Trail, bid your love good-by;
The Lone Trail, the Lone Trail follow till you die.

The trails of the world be countless, and most of the trails be tried;
You tread on the heels of the many, till you come where the ways divide;
And one lies safe in the sunlight, and the other is dreary and wan,
Yet you look aslant at the Lone Trail, and the Lone Trail lures you on.
And somehow you're sick of the highway, with its noise and its easy needs,
And you seek the risk of the by-way, and you reck not where it leads.
And sometimes it leads to the desert, and the togue swells out of the mouth,
And you stagger blind to the mirage, to die in the mocking drouth.
And sometimes it leads to the mountain, to the light of the lone camp-fire,
And you gnaw your belt in the anguish of hunger-goded desire.
And sometimes it leads to the Southland, to the swamp where the orchid glows,
And you rave to your grave with the fever, and they rob the corpse for its clothes.
And sometimes it leads to the Northland, and the scurvy softens your bones,
And your flesh dints in like putty, and you spit out your teeth like stones.
And sometimes it leads to a coral reef in the wash of a weedy sea,
And you sit and stare at the empty glare where the gulls wait greedily.
And sometimes it leads to an Arctic trail, and the snows where your torn feet freeze,
And you whittle away the useless clay, and crawl on your hands and knees.
Often it leads to the dead-pit; always it leads to pain;
By the bones of your brothers ye know it, but oh, to follow you're fain.
By your bones they will follow behind you, till the ways of the world are made plain.

Bid good-by to sweetheart, bid good-by to friend;
The Lone Trail, the Lone Trail follow to the end.
Tarry not, and fear not, chosen of the true;
Lover of the Lone Trail, the Lone Trail waits for you.

poem by Robert William Service
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Lejos De Ti

English lyrics by karen
Morris, toronto, canada
This song is more of a stright forward vallenato song with the blend of forging instruments, such as the steel string guitar, a cuban "tres" cuban "clave", and a snare drum.
T;lejos de ti" talks about being apart from the person you love and all the feelings that arise from your loneliness. this song says " with all the love from my soul i wait for you
Year and i wish to tell you with my guitar, all my feelings for you. i love you, i'm always dreaming of you, and without your love i'm dying.... but i'll keep waiting for you".
Tengo las cuerdans de mi guitarra
I have the stings of my guitar
Tengo la noche y tengo mi voz
I have the night and i have my voice
Para entregarte con toda el alma
With which to deliver to you with all my soul
Las dulces notas de mi cancin
The sweetness of my song.
Son las tretezas y la nostalgia
My song is sadness and nostalgia,
Las amargarte del corazn
And the bitterness of the heart.
Son tus recuerdos en la distancia
They are the memories of you at a distance
Los que me llenande inspiracin
That fill me with inspiration.
----------
Coro:
Con todo el amor del alma
With all the love of my soul
Te espero en el ao nuevo
I wait for you in the new year.
Y quiero con mi guitarra
And i want to tell you with my guitar that
Decirte lo que yo siento
You are the one for whom i wait.
Que siempre te estoy queriendo
I want to tell you that i am always wanting you
Que siempre te estoy soando
And am always dreaming of you.
Sin ti yo me estoy muriendo
Without you i am dying.
Pero te sigo esperando
But, still, i am waiting for you.
-----------
Tengo la brisa por mi ventana
The breeze that flows through my window
Que me acaricia como tu voz
Caresses me like the tenderness of your voice,
Tengo gravadas dentro del alma
Imprinted on my soul are the memories of
Las dulces huellas de tu pasin
Your tender and sincere passion.
Voy sumergiendome en la nostalgia
I get lost in the nostalgia

[...] Read more

song performed by Gloria Estefan
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

It's Better With The Good Eye

Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be,
Looking back at oh so far away.
Memory’s just another way to see.

A place to go on holiday for free,
Forty years ago if it’s a day.
Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.

And was that other person really me,
What changed, why could I not stay?
Memory’s just another way to see

The way things were around us then when we
Thought all our dreams were surely on their way.
Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be,

The sky was always blue it seemed to me,
Every day the sun shone so they say -
Memory’s just another way to see,

But now I know that life’s not lunch for free
That bitter fruit is served on many days
Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be,
Memory’s just another way to see.

Martin Swords
“Prompt Poems”
Villanelle
March 2008

poem by Martin Swords
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII (Entire)

Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;
Thine are these orbs of light and shade;
Thou madest Life in man and brute;
Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot
Is on the skull which thou hast made.

Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.

Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou:
Our wills are ours, we know not how;
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.

Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be:
They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, art more than they.

We have but faith: we cannot know;
For knowledge is of things we see;
And yet we trust it comes from thee,
A beam in darkness: let it grow.

Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence in us dwell;
That mind and soul, according well,
May make one music as before,

But vaster. We are fools and slight;
We mock thee when we do not fear:
But help thy foolish ones to bear;
Help thy vain worlds to bear thy light.

Forgive what seem’d my sin in me;
What seem’d my worth since I began;
For merit lives from man to man,
And not from man, O Lord, to thee.

Forgive my grief for one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair.
I trust he lives in thee, and there
I find him worthier to be loved.

Forgive these wild and wandering cries,

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Cycle Of My Emotions

Love leads to pain
Pain leads to hatred
Hatred leads to sorrow
Sorrow leads to despair
Despair leads to pleasure
Pleasure leads to happiness
Happiness leads to love
Love leads to pain

poem by Evy Moore
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Columbiad: Book X

The vision resumed, and extended over the whole earth. Present character of different nations. Future progress of society with respect to commerce; discoveries; inland navigation; philosophical, med and political knowledge. Science of government. Assimilation and final union of all languages. Its effect on education, and on the advancement of physical and moral science. The physical precedes the moral, as Phosphor precedes the Sun. View of a general Congress from all nations, assembled to establish the political harmony of mankind. Conclusion.

Hesper again his heavenly power display'd,
And shook the yielding canopy of shade.
Sudden the stars their trembling fires withdrew.
Returning splendors burst upon the view,
Floods of unfolding light the skies adorn,
And more than midday glories grace the morn.
So shone the earth, as if the sideral train,
Broad as full suns, had sail'd the ethereal plain;
When no distinguisht orb could strike the sight,
But one clear blaze of all-surrounding light
O'erflow'd the vault of heaven. For now in view
Remoter climes and future ages drew;
Whose deeds of happier fame, in long array,
Call'd into vision, fill the newborn day.

Far as seraphic power could lift the eye,
Or earth or ocean bend the yielding sky,
Or circling sutis awake the breathing gale,
Drake lead the way, or Cook extend the sail;
Where Behren sever'd, with adventurous prow,
Hesperia's headland from Tartaria's brow;
Where sage Vancouvre's patient leads were hurl'd,
Where Deimen stretch'd his solitary world;
All lands, all seas that boast a present name,
And all that unborn time shall give to fame,
Around the Pair in bright expansion rise,
And earth, in one vast level, bounds the skies.

They saw the nations tread their different shores,
Ply their own toils and wield their local powers,
Their present state in all its views disclose,
Their gleams of happiness, their shades of woes,
Plodding in various stages thro the range
Of man's unheeded but unceasing change.
Columbus traced them with experienced eye,
And class'd and counted all the flags that fly;
He mark'd what tribes still rove the savage waste,
What cultured realms the sweets of plenty taste;
Where arts and virtues fix their golden reign,
Or peace adorns, or slaughter dyes the plain.

He saw the restless Tartar, proud to roam,
Move with his herds and pitch a transient home;
Tibet's long tracts and China's fixt domain,
Dull as their despots, yield their cultured grain;
Cambodia, Siam, Asia's myriad isles
And old Indostan, with their wealthy spoils

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Vision of Columbus – Book 3

Now, twice twelve years, the children of the skies
Beheld in peace their growing empire rise;
O'er happy realms, display'd their generous care,
Diffused their arts and soothd the rage of war;
Bade yon tall temple grace the favourite isle.
The gardens bloom, the cultured valleys smile,
The aspiring hills their spacious mines unfold.
Fair structures blaze, and altars burn, in gold,
Those broad foundations bend their arches high,
And heave imperial Cusco to the sky;
From that fair stream that mark'd their northern sway,
Where Apurimac leads his lucid way,
To yon far glimmering lake, the southern bound,
The growing tribes their peaceful dwellings found;
While wealth and grandeur bless'd the extended reign,
From the bold Andes to the western main.
When, fierce from eastern wilds, the savage bands
Lead war and slaughter o'er the happy lands;
Thro' fertile fields the paths of culture trace,
And vow destruction to the Incan race.
While various fortune strow'd the embattled plain,
And baffled thousands still the strife maintain,
The unconquer'd Inca wakes the lingering war,
Drives back their host and speeds their flight afar;
Till, fired with rage, they range the wonted wood,
And feast their souls on future scenes of blood.
Where yon blue summits hang their cliffs on high;
Frown o'er the plains and lengthen round the sky;
Where vales exalted thro' the breaches run;
And drink the nearer splendors of the sun,
From south to north, the tribes innumerous wind,
By hills of ice and mountain streams confined;
Rouse neighbouring hosts, and meditate the blow,
To blend their force and whelm the world below.
Capac, with caution, views the dark design,
From countless wilds what hostile myriads join;
And greatly strives to bid the discord cease,
By profferd compacts of perpetual peace.
His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Leaves the deep confines of the temple wall;
In whose fair form, in lucid garments drest,
Began the sacred function of the priest.
In early youth, ere yet the genial sun
Had twice six changes o'er his childhood run,
The blooming prince, beneath his parents' hand,
Learn'd all the laws that sway'd the sacred land;
With rites mysterious served the Power divine,
Prepared the altar and adorn'd the shrine,
Responsive hail'd, with still returning praise,
Each circling season that the God displays,

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Four Seasons : Spring

Come, gentle Spring! ethereal Mildness! come,
And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud,
While music wakes around, veil'd in a shower
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.
O Hertford, fitted or to shine in courts
With unaffected grace, or walk the plain
With innocence and meditation join'd
In soft assemblage, listen to my song,
Which thy own Season paints; when Nature all
Is blooming and benevolent, like thee.
And see where surly Winter passes off,
Far to the north, and calls his ruffian blasts:
His blasts obey, and quit the howling hill,
The shatter'd forest, and the ravaged vale;
While softer gales succeed, at whose kind touch,
Dissolving snows in livid torrents lost,
The mountains lift their green heads to the sky.
As yet the trembling year is unconfirm'd,
And Winter oft at eve resumes the breeze,
Chills the pale morn, and bids his driving sleets
Deform the day delightless: so that scarce
The bittern knows his time, with bill ingulf'd,
To shake the sounding marsh; or from the shore
The plovers when to scatter o'er the heath,
And sing their wild notes to the listening waste
At last from Aries rolls the bounteous sun,
And the bright Bull receives him. Then no more
The expansive atmosphere is cramp'd with cold
But, full of life and vivifying soul,
Lifts the light clouds sublime, and spreads then thin,
Fleecy, and white, o'er all-surrounding heaven.
Forth fly the tepid airs: and unconfined,
Unbinding earth, the moving softness strays.
Joyous, the impatient husbandman perceives
Relenting Nature, and his lusty steers
Drives from their stalls, to where the well used plough
Lies in the furrow, loosen'd from the frost.
There, unrefusing, to the harness'd yoke
They lend their shoulder, and begin their toil,
Cheer'd by the simple song and soaring lark.
Meanwhile incumbent o'er the shining share
The master leans, removes the obstructing clay,
Winds the whole work, and sidelong lays the glebe
While through the neighbouring fields the sowe stalks,
With measured step, and liberal throws the grain
Into the faithful bosom of the ground;
The harrow follows harsh, and shuts the scene.
Be gracious, Heaven! for now laborious Man
Has done his part. Ye fostering breezes, blow!
Ye softening dews, ye tender showers, descend!

[...] Read more

poem by James Thomson
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Idle Lives Live to Wander

Idle lives live to wander,
Under discouraged eyes...
Reset to ponder,
Why they choose fits to drift...
In a constant need.
Of wanting to please.

Idle lives live to wander,
Under discouraged eyes...
Why,
There are others who believe...
They live just to be on bended knees.
Begging freely from a 'Deity'.
In a pleading to make easier,
A way of life they accept to breathe.

Idle lives live to wander,
Under discouraged eyes...
Reset to ponder,
Why they choose fits to drift...
In a constant need.
Of wanting to please.

Idle lives live to wander,
In a constant need.
Of wanting to please.

Idle lives live to wander,
In a constant need.
Of wanting to please.

Idle lives live to wander,
In a constant need.
Of wanting to please.

In a constant need.
Of wanting to please.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Vision Of Columbus - Book 8

And now the Angel, from the trembling sight,
Veil'd the wide world–when sudden shades of night
Move o'er the ethereal vault; the starry train
Paint their dim forms beneath the placid main;
While earth and heaven, around the hero's eye,
Seem arch'd immense, like one surrounding sky.
Still, from the Power superior splendors shone,
The height emblazing like a radiant throne;
To converse sweet the soothing shades invite,
And on the guide the hero fix'd his sight.
Kind messenger of Heaven, he thus began,
Why this progressive labouring search of man?
If man by wisdom form'd hath power to reach
These opening truths that following ages teach,
Step after step, thro' devious mazes, wind,
And fill at last the measure of the mind,
Why did not Heaven, with one unclouded ray,
All human arts and reason's powers display?
That mad opinions, sects and party strife
Might find no place t'imbitter human life.
To whom the Angelic Power; to thee 'tis given,
To hold high converse, and enquire of heaven,
To mark uncircled ages and to trace
The unfolding truths that wait thy kindred race.
Know then, the counsels of th'unchanging Mind,
Thro' nature's range, progressive paths design'd,
Unfinish'd works th'harmonious system grace,
Thro' all duration and around all space;
Thus beauty, wisdom, power, their parts unroll,
Till full perfection joins the accordant whole.
So the first week, beheld the progress rise,
Which form'd the earth and arch'd th'incumbant skies.
Dark and imperfect first, the unbeauteous frame,
From vacant night, to crude existence came;
Light starr'd the heavens and suns were taught their bound,
Winds woke their force, and floods their centre found;
Earth's kindred elements, in joyous strife,
Warm'd the glad glebe to vegetable life,
Till sense and power and action claim'd their place,
And godlike reason crown'd the imperial race.
Progressive thus, from that great source above,
Flows the fair fountain of redeeming love.
Dark harbingers of hope, at first bestow'd,
Taught early faith to feel her path to God:
Down the prophetic, brightening train of years,
Consenting voices rose of different seers,
In shadowy types display'd the accomplish'd plan,
When filial Godhead should assume the man,
When the pure Church should stretch her arms abroad,
Fair as a bride and liberal as her God;

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Science Poems 1. (4)

SOAP-BUBBLE UNIVERSE

Imagine the beautiful, fragile soap-bubbles of
shimmering voids formed by great explosions
galaxies streaming in filaments

Imagine a sponge, dark voids filled with invisible
galaxies, unknown particles outlined against the
Great Wall opposite the star sign of
Perseus-Pisces-Pegasus

Which would you choose?

The Universe is a patchwork, cosmologists
cannot decide whether it is bubbly or
spongy, so I base my choice on the
subjective criterion

Of aesthetics – let it be a fragile and beautiful
soap-bubble universe

EXCITING SPECULATION

Mystery creating exciting speculation
in the infinity of a moment of eternity:

In the year nineteen hundred and nine
near the Grand Canyon's dramatic impact
a man, Hicaid, found a subterranean city
built with the most marvelous precision
to accommodate fifty thousand people

And mummified bodies of Oriental or
Egyptian origin - tantalizing titbits of
information presented for speculation
about its significance - enlarging the
range of my imagination…

PARTICLE ZOO

A theory about
exploding atoms
in an atomic blast
proof of particles
that cannot last

Scientists used to claim
atoms should only contain

[...] Read more

poem by Margaret Alice Second
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Love Leads To Madness

Do I feel alright?
Ill go antwhere you say you wanna to take me
Save me, run away-ay-ay, steal away-ay-ay
cause I feel alright
Ill do anything you say you wanna make me
Take me, far away-ay-ay, run away-ay-ay
Weve been up all night
Tryin to avoid a situation
Hold me, let me feel your way
cause I wanna stay
Let them all start talkin
We wont give ourselves away
Our love leads to madness
Our love leads to madness
Our love leads to madness
Do you feel alright?
An can you see me when youre lookin in your mirror
Crazy, try to find a way, so your heart dont pay
Run away-ay-ay
Dont you give yourself away
Our love leads to madness
Our love leads to madness
Our love leads to madness
Our lova leads to madness
(written by nazareth)
Copyright 1982 fool circle music limited
Lyrics used by permission
All rights reserved.
Reproduction prohibited

song performed by Nazareth
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Love Leads To Madness (Alternate Extended Version)

Do I feel alright?
I'll go anywhere you say you wanna take me
Save me, run away-ay-ay, steal away-ay-ay
'Cause I feel alright
I'll do anything you say you wanna make me
Take me far away-ay-ay, run away-ay-ay
We've been up all night
Tryin' to avoid a situation
Hold me, let me feel your way
'Cause I wanna stay
Let them all start talkin'
We won't give ourselves away
Our love leads to madness
Our love leads to madness
Our love leads to madness
Do you feel alright?
And can you see me when you're lookin' in your mirror
Crazy, try to find a way, so your heart don't pay
Run away-ay-ay
Don't you give yourself away
Our love leads to madness
Our love leads to madness
Our love leads to madness
Our love leads to madness

song performed by Nazareth
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

The Columbiad: Book III

The Argument

Actions of the Inca Capac. A general invasion of his dominions threatened by the mountain savages. Rocha, the Inca's son, sent with a few companions to offer terms of peace. His embassy. His adventure with the worshippers of the volcano. With those of the storm, on the Andes. Falls in with the savage armies. Character and speech of Zamor, their chief. Capture of Rocha and his companions. Sacrifice of the latter. Death song of Azonto. War dance. March of the savage armies down the mountains to Peru. Incan army meets them. Battle joins. Peruvians terrified by an eclipse of the sun, and routed. They fly to Cusco. Grief of Oella, supposing the darkness to be occasioned by the death of Rocha. Sun appears. Peruvians from the city wall discover Roch an altar in the savage camp. They march in haste out of the city and engage the savages. Exploits of Capac. Death of Zamor. Recovery of Rocha, and submission of the enemy.

Now twenty years these children of the skies
Beheld their gradual growing empire rise.
They ruled with rigid but with generous care,
Diffused their arts and sooth'd the rage of war,
Bade yon tall temple grace their favorite isle,
The mines unfold, the cultured valleys smile,
Those broad foundations bend their arches high,
And rear imperial Cusco to the sky;
Wealth, wisdom, force consolidate the reign
From the rude Andes to the western main.

But frequent inroads from the savage bands
Lead fire and slaughter o'er the labor'd lands;
They sack the temples, the gay fields deface,
And vow destruction to the Incan race.
The king, undaunted in defensive war,
Repels their hordes, and speeds their flight afar;
Stung with defeat, they range a wider wood,
And rouse fresh tribes for future fields of blood.

Where yon blue ridges hang their cliffs on high,
And suns infulminate the stormful sky,
The nations, temper'd to the turbid air,
Breathe deadly strife, and sigh for battle's blare;
Tis here they meditate, with one vast blow,
To crush the race that rules the plains below.
Capac with caution views the dark design,
Learns from all points what hostile myriads join.
And seeks in time by proffer'd leagues to gain
A bloodless victory, and enlarge his reign.

His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Resigns his charge within the temple wall;
In whom began, with reverend forms of awe,
The functions grave of priesthood and of law,

In early youth, ere yet the ripening sun
Had three short lustres o'er his childhood run,
The prince had learnt, beneath his father's hand,
The well-framed code that sway'd the sacred land;
With rites mysterious served the Power divine,
Prepared the altar and adorn'd the shrine,
Responsive hail'd, with still returning praise,
Each circling season that the God displays,

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!