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Bombing the Murrah Federal Building was morally and strategically equivalent to the U.S. hitting a government building in Serbia, Iraq, or other nations.

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Emily Dickinson

The Night was wide, and furnished scant

589

The Night was wide, and furnished scant
With but a single Star—
That often as a Cloud it met—
Blew out itself—for fear—

The Wind pursued the little Bush—
And drove away the Leaves
November left—then clambered up
And fretted in the Eaves—

No Squirrel went abroad—
A Dog's belated feet
Like intermittent Plush, he heard
Adown the empty Street—

To feel if Blinds be fast—
And closer to the fire—
Her little Rocking Chair to draw—
And shiver for the Poor—

The Housewife's gentle Task—
How pleasanter—said she
Unto the Sofa opposite—
The Sleet—than May, no Thee—

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Wallace Stevens

The House Was Quiet and The World Was Calm

The house was quiet and the world was calm.
The reader became the book; and summer night

Was like the conscious being of the book.
The house was quiet and the world was calm.

The words were spoken as if there was no book,
Except that the reader leaned above the page,

Wanted to lean, wanted much most to be
The scholar to whom his book is true, to whom

The summer night is like a perfection of thought.
The house was quiet because it had to be.

The quiet was part of the meaning, part of the mind:
The access of perfection to the page.

And the world was calm. The truth in a calm world,
In which there is no other meaning, itself

Is calm, itself is summer and night, itself
Is the reader leaning late and reading there.

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How The West Was Won And Where It Got Us

Blood from a stone, water from wine.
Born under earplay design.
A stroke of bad luck, wrong place, wrong time.
Let's fly up out of the lime.
The story is a sad one, told many times.
The story of my life in trying times.
Just add water, stir in lime.
How the west was won and where it got us.
Canary got trapped, the uranium mine.
A stroke of bad luck, now the bird has died.
A marker to mark where my tears run dry.
I cross it, bless it, alkali.
The story is a sad one, told many times.
The story of my life in trying times.
Just add water, stir in lime.
How the west was won and where it got us.
I didn't wear glasses cause I thought it might rain.
Now I can't see anything.
I made a mistake, chalked it up to design.
I cracked through time, space, Godless and dry.
I point my nose to the northern star,
Watch her decline from a hazy distance.
The story is a sad one, told many times.
The story of my life in trying times.
Just add water, stir in lime.
How the west was won and where it got us

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Ah, Yesterday Was Dark and Drear

Ah, yesterday was dark and drear,
My heart was deadly sore;
Without thy love it seemed, my Dear,
That I could live no more.

And yet I laugh and sing to-day;
Care or care not for me,
Thou canst not take the love away
With which I worship thee.

And if to-morrow, Dear, I live,
My heart I shall not break:
For still I hold it that to give
Is sweeter than to take.

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Revealed That He Was Strick! And All Business

When he had been depicted as a familiar joke...
Those who did it were fine with that.
Until the day came,
When those who thought they knew him...
Discovered why 'he' was the one laughing.

And that reflected on their sad faces.
He made them all feel as if they had been clowns.
The ones who spent their lives fooling around.
To have it revealed that he was strick!
And all business...
Made them sick to know of this.

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When I Was One-and-Twenty

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard a wise man say,
"Give crowns and pounds and guineas
But not your heart away;
Give pearls away and rubies
But keep your fancy free."
But I was one-and-twenty,
No use to talk to me.

When I was one-and-twenty
I heard him say again,
"The heart out of the bosom
Was never given in vain;
'Tis paid with sighs a plenty
And sold for endless rue."
And I am two-and-twenty,
And oh, 'tis true, 'tis true.

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I Was Drunk And It Was Fun

I was drunk and it was fun,
At least I think, for it did not return;
To keep save in my memory,
The last 16 hours lived by me.

I was drunk and it was fun,
As in daze, round and round I spun;
Where I stopped, I did not know,
So I asked the bartender to pour.

I was drunk and it was fun,
Robber chasing me, I could not run,
So I took the hand that I was dealt,
And handed over all of my wealth.

I was drunk and it was fun,
No, I do not remember this gun.
Now this lie detector test I fail,
I have time remember -life in jail.

Copyright © 2010 Leslie Alexis

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When I was boy and life was young (ghazal)

There was a strange kind of living time
a kind of experiencing joy time

when I was boy and the world was still young,
when you for me you had lost your meeting time

all of joy, our sweet love was away flung,
as to our love it was the end of time

but never in shame was my head low hung,
and for friendship I could always find time

but of your friends I did not count among,
with years we did not notice passing time

while you did not know where you do belong
we were ready for the effect of time

but still life was like a great kind of song
and now for us, for life there is no time.

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Old Claraghatlea Where I Was Born And Raised

In rhyme and song and ballad I have praised
Old Claraghatlea where I was born and raised
Some of the old fields there have their own name
Though time brings change I'm sure they'd look the same
As they were when I knew them years ago
And to the river the old stream does flow
Though in that old place where into manhood I did grow
Not many people there now I would know
And not many people there would know of me
To them a stranger I would only be
In fancy I walk the old fields again
And I hear the water rippling in the drain
And the robin in his song does tell of rain
Old memories in the migrant's mind remain.

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Was Battered, And Bruised

For the late jimmy

They said I was too slow,
Wondered when i'd learn,
Though they never taught me.
Said I was rude to matters of principle,
And read my elegy before my epilogue.
Battered my weary spirit - and will,
Tore my single soul into shreds,
All I managed was barely a whisper - Oh my God!
By my very own that i loved,
whose very blood flows red like venom,
in my dark withered veins,
Was left for the double edged streets,
Lessons in the offing-cruel to the Dogs,
But now I stand on my two legs,
Like I never dreamt before,
Radiating illuminating strength,
Bettered by the bruises of battering,
And shaped by the avengers of yester'morrow,
By whom I was battered and bruised.

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When I Was Fair And Young

When I was fair and young, then favor graced me.
Of many was I sought their mistress for to be.
But I did scorn them all and answered them therefore:

Go, go, go, seek some other where; importune me no more.
How many weeping eyes I made to pine in woe,
How many sighing hearts I have not skill to show,
But I the prouder grew and still this spake therefore:

Go, go, go, seek some other where, importune me no more.
Then spake fair Venus’ son, that proud victorious boy,
Saying: You dainty dame, for that you be so coy,
I will so pluck your plumes as you shall say no more:

Go, go, go, seek some other where, importune me no more.
As soon as he had said, such change grew in my breast
That neither night nor day I could take any rest.
Wherefore I did repent that I had said before:
Go, go, go, seek some other where, importune me no more.

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Far Was Peace And Trouble Nigh

far was peace and trouble nigh
nation east of Niger sought to split
for a new nation hope was high
as one nation they chose not to use
three years gone came a truce no refuse


far was peace and trouble nigh
gentleman Abu TB was chilled on sit
and just before we took a relief sigh
there was another Dodan baracks kill
whose bad we all now suffer still


far was peace and trouble nigh
flames of discord all over were lit
even tribal tension rose to the sky
as MKO fought in vain for a mandate
what we saw was bloodshed on that date


far was peace and trouble nigh
A man took power and refuse to quit
hunger killed but he blinked not an eye
his rule of hate tore them all apart
till the gods came to stop his heart


far was peace and trouble nigh
from Jona came an austerity kit
raised petrol to a price they can't buy
they fought and it took over a week
for him to see the people aren't weak

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I Was Born and Raised

When the sun was hanging bright
And the moon gloom with execsive light
Then I was born
When the days were constantly burning
And the cloud immensely weeping
Then I was born
When human were not humble
And the races were different people
Then I was born
When actions were filled with advantage
And the minds were like gabbage
Then I was born
When the street were filled with blood
And human words were built with fraud
Then I was born
When parents cannot make their stomach feed
And they cannot take the responsibility of their breed
Then I was born
Where the people were just part of a story
And their effort was to build another man glory
Their I was raised
Where men were like iron
But their strength was for a corn
Their I was raised
Where people were deprived
And from them wealth is derived
There I was born and raised
Where the land is good
But the people cannot make their food
Their I was born and raised
Where the place is called africa
And the people are called african
Their I was born and raised
I was born and raised
Where the people’s destiny lies in the grave

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Was, Is And Will Be

‘All that was, is and will be unto end of time, is in the
Torah, from first to last word: details of species, each
individual, all that happened from birth to death'

The old Hebrew version of the Old Testament is a
crossword puzzle computer program, a Bible code;
skip fifty letters in sequences to find the term Torah
at the beginning of Genesis, Exodus, Numbers
and Deuteronomy

The universe a cryptogram set by the Almighty;
the Bible a time-lock opened by computer, code-
breakers found the names, dates and cities of 66
wise men encoded together in a network criss-
crossing Bible text

No spaces between words - 304 805 letters - in a
continuous line: start on first letter, search names,
words and phrases, skip 1,2,3,4 - X letters; start
on second letter, repeat the process and continue
up to last letter

Find key words & related facts encoded together,
matching words in close proximity, length of skips
between search words to be small, interlocking
words reveal related information in Bible text
only, not in millions of test cases

Bible provides infinite information, related words in
cross-word puzzles cross vertically, horizontally and
diagonally; meets quantum physics theory of unlimited
probability and possibility - I shall never fear
boredom again

Armed with this computer program which resembles
notes of music in never-ending configurations - as
unique as snowdrops and fingerprints; no wonder
everything is contained and explained therein -
as to meaning and origin:

Existence manifests as an intelligent, loving energy
which illustrates quantum physics principles and
relativity in a great testament to creation!

[The Bible Code, Michael Drosnin, Weidenfeld &
Nicolson,1997 -
Quotes from pp.19 - 25]

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When I was Young and Ignorant

When I was young and ignorant I loved a Miss McDougall,
Our days were spent in happiness, although our means were frugal;
We did not sigh for worldly wealth, for vain and tawdry treasures,
We were a simple country pair with simple country pleasures.
Beneath the village chestnut-tree it was our joy to meet once;
We used to tread the dewy fields with wonder-waking feet once;
We wandered once in leafy lanes and walked in Woodlands shady;
But now she's gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady

I loved her as I loved my life when I was young and tender,
And happily our time was spent although our means were slender.
We used to pass the golden days in countrified pursuits once;
We walked through simple country bogs in simple country boots once.
High hopes of happiness I had, but now my hopes are zero,
Alas! My love has left me now to carve her own career O;
Not all the hopes of her I had of her are worth a maravedi;
My love has gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady.

My love now dwells in circus halls with clowns and tight-rope dancers,
Where dromedaries play bassoons and sea-lions do the lancers;
She moves amongst trick-bicyclists, buffoons and comic waiters,
With elephants and acrobats and prestidigitators.
No longer daily by my side she wanders through the hay now,
The glamour of the public eye has lured are far away now.
Remorseless Fates, my tender hopes how cruelly betrayed ye!
My love has gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady.

When I was young and ignorant I loved a Miss McDougall;
But that was e'er she heard the call of Fame's imperious bugle.
I thought her kind as she was fair, but I was green and calfish;
My love, though brighter than a star, was colder than a starfish.
High hopes of happiness I had when I was young and tender;
But time and tide have falsified my juvenile agenda.
Farewell, my castle is in the air! Phantasmal mansions, fade ye!
My love has gone to Birmingham to be a Bearded Lady.

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If I was Two and Twenty - after Algernon Charles Swinburne- A Match and Thomas Hood - A Catch

This time around is given,
as was the one before,
sins punished, sins forgiven,
who knows what 'lies' in store
in trace race mortals draw
till they withdraw, hence driven,
despite pride's battles striven,
life's finite thread is riven,
we wane, the pain is keen.
This time around is given,
till, wrinkled, we withdraw.

If I was two and twenty,
with soul mate just eighteen,
we'd pleasures taste aplenty
nor censorship, nor sentry
in future evergreen
ignoring landed gentry,
dirt urban elementary,
all options opened gently,
by temporal re-entry
stream energy dream clean.
If I was two and twenty,
life's partner just eighteen.

Then we might blow pollution
to smithereens and seed
some carbon-free solution,
climactic revolution
defeating human greed,
then growth would flow unending,
before, behind, here bending,
straightforwardly defending
minorities agreed
on aims and attributions
all nurturing shared need.

If life were what the rose is
without the thorns to boot,
true loves would link together
through bright or stormy weather
where heart with heart reposes
in bliss, each kiss new root.
From story uneventful
discarding trumps resentful
to glory existential
we'd dance to magic flute.
Door open never closes,
vain envy could confute.

If forty years were shedded
from fearful mortal frame,
with errors past all shredded
and motivations headed
towards no guilty shame,
we'd offer level-headed
approach to chips embedded
life's options multi-threaded,
from cancer free, unleaded
environment we'd claim
essential as clear-headed
we'd redesign life's game.

If life were what the rose is,
true Joy no longer mute.
Were life bud which encloses
enjoyment absolute,
then light as downy feather
we'd float above wild heather.
Unknown would be love's measure,
unending blissful pleasure,
eternity two treasure
unknown would be dispute.
Seeds sown bear fruit, what shows is
fair blossom's good repute.

The mirror life should show is
reflection to transmute
dust into gold, exp[l]oses
snake's apple, rotten fruit.
If thoughts, words, deeds, were ever
identical, life's tune
would harmonize discordant
vibrations, tongues concordant
would soften into sweetness
discovering completeness
yet ne'er obsessed by neatness
could conquer slander mordant;
temptations never-never,
and fly high as the moon.

If twenty two was granted
instead of forty more,
fresh forests could be planted
in paradise enchanted
'to each his needs', restore
opinion free, unslanted,
and equity implanted
as ideal by all wanted
without restrictions chanted
by vested interests sore,
from wiretaps unwarranted
to freedoms all adore.

If thought, words, deeds were never
a hot-air sky balloon.
If we were both immortal,
December mild as June
might be, we'd see life's summer
count each day in its number.
Life would be beauty blessing
each day full dinner dressing,
no lies to be confessing
eternal swim, no plumber
to pull the plug each mortal
fear drained from heart charts soon.

If illness idiopathic
was cured 'neath sun, stars, moon
Death sting-less, Life cocoon,
no human antipathic
as entente telepathic
removed fears psychopathic
we'd versify night, noon,
throw lifelines all find boon,
no conduct enigmatic
reactions harsh, dramatic,
could ever burst balloon
of fête and fun festoon.

If twenty two could focus
sage wisdom age confers,
defusing hocus-pocus
replacing slums with crocus
white, yellow, mauve, prefers,
inventing solar panel,
amusements multichannel
banish obese and scrannel,
end soft soap, fawning flannel.
In_gene_I_us new locus
which to just plan defers,
turns man, mad diplodocus,
to insight naught deters.

Some say: 'Delight may mingle
love, lust, but life, buffoon,
spins Time's wheel all too quickly,
today's bloom soon shades sickly,
tomorrow's tomb is single,
shores shown prove shoals and shingle.'
Their cares prove self-fulfilling,
with worries over-spilling
into haste's waste-chase chilling,
so rare their senses tingle.
and gloom flows out of noon,
all's vain! Life: mirage moon.
But we won't buy that tune!

While youth longs to be older
grasps opportunity
to test strengths, bigger, bolder,
advancing to unfold a
dream perfect to a tee,
Age dwells on lost youth, ponders
mistakes made as mind wanders
from joyful, novel wonders,
to doom gloom first responders
fear soon may fell life's tree.
Life's in eye of beholder,
no immortality
cold Fate our transient folder
will ever guarantee.

Were there no dearth of readers
on earth here, how delighting!
Our writing all adoring,
vocations pure restoring,
in high demand as breeders,
would poets every nighting
Gails brave, or Joys, or Ledas,
no dearth of readers sighting.

Regretfully our leaders'
priorities seem fighting,
backbiting and exporting,
exploiting and deporting,
so altruistic pleaders
must elsewhere underwriting
seek sustenance, indicting
lacklustre lusting leaders
whose all too frequent lapses
show judgement which collapses
when tested, which perhaps is
sign they fail all, the bleeders,
due more to faulty wiring
than that of their conceders.

If she were fairy ditty,
and I an airy rhyme,
we'd keep this up for ever,
nor think it very clever,
sense, nonsense, mix themes witty
until the end of time.
If she were fair[l]y pretty,
I not some hot-air rhyme,
But twenty-two? A pity
one can't go back in time,
and daily nitty gritty
seems far from rose sublime.
Fond meetings soon must sever,
from henceforth and forever.
With fields devoured by city
zen themes can't turn cat kitty,
spliced telomeres find kitty
soon spent, scarce worth a dime,
by evolution's climb.

If life were what the rose is
without the thorns to boot,
our loves would link together
in bright or stormy weather
where heart with heart reposes
in bliss, each kiss new root.
If life were, holy Moses!
a rose all could compute.

If, love's seeds sown, pretending
was classified as weed
then there would be no ending
of happiness to feed
shared passion overnightly
grown pyrotechnic brightly
as two through cues insightly
keyed to each other's need,
all bridges would be mending
endeavours all succeed.

Once love's seeds sown, descending
to fertile ground decreed,
we'd spend existence blending
our essences agreed,
see days spin fly-by-nightly
as we, together, tightly
can do no wrong but brightly
tired muscles nightly knead.
Fate, fortune, both befriending,
as on our way we speed.

In city, sandy shingle,
hopes rise, hot air balloon,
time-traveller's cartoon.
In town, or country dingle,
most bubble hopes burst quickly
on meeting cactus prickly,
birth's pride ride soon turns sickly,
lush locks, which flourished thickly,
fall, bride, groom, soon doomed loon.
All ends as empty jingle
for 'slippered pantaloon'.

Age page needs no defending,
dear reader, pray concede
this writer's coda screed.
true expertise well lending
No ruse, one rues contritely,
transforms age to eyes brightly
hued where hewed life-line's nightly
cut short for sluggard, sprightly.
The blues ensues, so, tightly,
attention pay as lightly
our white poetic steed
is reined in recommending
Your pen should now proceed.

(22 April 2010)

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Emily Dickinson

This Quiet Dust was Gentlemen and Ladies

This quiet dust was gentlemen and ladies
And lads and girls;
Was laughter and ability and sighing,
And frocks and curls;

This passive place a summer's nimble mansion,
Where bloom and bees
Fulfilled their oriental circuit,
Then ceased like these.

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When I Was Young And Young I Am

When I was young and young I am
I dreamed I'd be a better man
I dreamed I'd live a life of joy
And here I am an aging boy

Twenty now and still a child
Tame at times at others wild
I dreamed I’d be a better man
When I was young and young I am.

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Emily Dickinson

He was weak, and I was strong—then

190

He was weak, and I was strong—then—
So He let me lead him in
I was weak, and He was strong then—
So I let him lead me—Home.

'Twasn't far—the door was near—
'Twasn't dark—for He went—too—
'Twasn't loud, for He said nought—
That was all I cared to know.

Day knocked—and we must part—
Neither—was strongest—now—
He strove—and I strove—too—
We didn't do it—tho'!

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Peddling Round the World

When at first in foreign parts
Was her flag unfurled,
England was a Gipsy lass
Peddling round the world.
Sailing on the Spanish Main—
Everywhere you roam—
Peddling in the Persian Gulf
Things she’d made at home.
Peddling round the world,
Peddling round the world—
England was a Gipsy lass
Peddling round the world.
England never wanted war,
Not on land or sea—
Other nations rising up
Couldn’t let her be.
England only wanted peace,
And the ocean’s breath;
So there came, in course of time,
Queen Elizabeth.
Queen Elizabeth—
Queen Elizabeth—
Came a plain, bad-tempered queen,
Called Elizabeth.

Queen Elizabeth, she called
Drake, and Raleigh too—
Essex, Howard, and the rest
Of the pirate crew;
“See what you can do,” she said.
“England’s feeling sick—
If you don’t, I’ll hang you all!
Better do it quick.”
“Better do it quick,” she said—
“Better do it quick”;
And they knew she’d keep her word,
So they did it quick.

Drake and Raleigh sailed away—
(Only Bess they feared)
Cleared the Spanish Main and singed
The King of Spain his beard—
Singed the King of Spain his beard,
And his hair they curled.
England was a Gipsy’s love
Peddling round the world.
Peddling round the world,
Peddling round the world.
England was a Gipsy’s love
Peddling round the world.

Once again, when Cromwell came,
England wanted room;
So he lowered Holland’s tone,
Smashed the Dutchman’s broom.
Sent a message to Algiers;
Made its meaning plain—
On the way they called once more
On the King of Spain.
On the King of Spain—
On the King of Spain:
Called, to jog his memory,
On the King of Spain.

So the years went round and round,
Over hills and flats—
England was a Gipsy wife—
England had her brats;
Peddling in the China Sea,
Far from English ground;
Doing biz with Mrs. Jap—
Peddling all around.
Peddling all around—
Peddling all around;
Making friends with Mrs. Jap—
Peddling all around.


When the war is past and gone,
With its blood and tears;
And the world may count upon
Peace for fifty years—
When the gory battle-flags
Round their sticks are furled—
Then you’ll see a Gipsy crone
Peddling round the world.
Peddling round the world—
Peddling round the world.
Then you’ll see a Gipsy crone
A-peddling round the world!
Shawl as old as Joseph’s coat,
Hair as white as snow,
Mind as bright as Seventeen—
Eyes still like the sloe—
Peddling in the Southern Seas—
Everywhere you roam—
And she’ll fill her baskets here
With things we’ll make at home.
Things we’ll make at home—
Things we’ll make at home—
Call to fill her baskets here
With things we’ll make at HOME.

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