B: VIII: Memorials
Love alters the order of things,
Is honored by whatever it bakes.
Pyramid or sponge,
The alterings of love:
Symbols of its loss.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Related quotes
Romeo Delight
I told her, never in hell, no special reason.
Must a lied cause I aint leavin.
Were in for a very long night.
Heard a vicious rumor from your mamas tongue:
You a desprate woman, need a man with a gun.
High crime zone in the city of lights.
Baby, please!
Cant take it anymore.
Baby, please!
Cant take it anymore.
Im takin whiskey to the party tonight,
And Im lookin for somebody to squeeze.
I aint lookin for somebody to fight.
Baby, dont get uptight.
Baby, please!
Wanna see my i.d.? try to clip my wings!
Dont have to show you proof of anything.
I know the law friend.
At the leventh hour. Im goin back outside.
Give it a try.
Im your last loose end.
Baby, please!
Cant take it anymore.
Baby, please!
Cant take it anymore.
Im takin whiskey to the party tonight
And Im lookin for somebody to squeeze.
I aint lookin for somebody to fight.
Baby, dont get uptight.
Baby, please!
I feel my heart beat,
Feel my heart beat,
Feel my heart beat,
Oh yeah.
Baby, please!
Cant take it anymore.
Baby, please!
Cant take it anymore.
Im takin whiskey to the party tonight,
And Im lookin for somebody to squeeze.
I aint lookin for somebody to fight.
Baby, dont get uptight.
Baby, please!
Loss of control
Mayday!
I checked it out. I think you ought to know.
Im only wastin time. I think Id better go.
You way too civilized. oh,
Loss of control, loss of control, loss of control!
Loss of control, loss of control, loss of control!
[...] Read more
song performed by Van Halen
Added by Lucian Velea
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Loss Of Control
Mayday!
I checked it out. I think you ought to know.
Im only wastin time. I think Id better go.
You way too civilized. oh,
Loss of control, loss of control, loss of control!
Loss of control, loss of control, loss of control!
Loss of control, loss of control, loss of control!
Loss of control, loss of control, loss of control!
Loss of control, loss of control, loss of control!
Baby, I checked it out. I think you ought to know.
Im only wastin time. I think Id better go.
You way too civilized. oh,
Loss of control, loss of control, loss of control!
Loss of control, loss of control, loss of control!
Loss of control, loss of control, loss of control!
Loss of control, loss of control, loss of control!
Loss of control, loss of control, loss of control!
Baby, I checked it out. I think you ought to know.
Im only wastin time. I think Id better go.
You way too civilized. oh,
Loss of control, loss of control, loss of control!
song performed by Van Halen
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Autumn-Spirit.
Now the Autumn-Spirit reigneth over mountain, vale and plain,
And the Earth, bedecked with symbols of the Autumn-Spirit's reign,
Makes us think about the season of the flowers with a sigh,
When life was lush in every tree-love laughed in every eye,
Whilst her lineaments of beauty were imprinted on the sod,
When the Spring with Winter wrestled, on that gala-day of God!
But the Spring is dead and buried, and the Summer's vital fire,
Like a heap of sullen embers, smoulders ready to expire;
For the Autumn-Spirit, reigning over mountain, vale and plain,
Robes the Earth in royal symbols emblematic of his reign!
Hark! a singing train of seraphim doth o'er its surface pass!
Mark! their flowing robes of flame have singed the green and speary grass!
Witness! every tender blade appeareth tipped and tinged with brown,
And the hedge is hemmed with rose-leaves, which their wings have shaken down,
Though the hind but hears the whirring of ten thousand pinions beat,
Sees a cloud of birds of passage trail its shadow by his feet,
For the pageantry of Heaven hath escaped his optics dim,
And he sees but birds of passage in the God-sent seraphim,
While the Autumn-Spirit reigneth over mountain, vale and plain,
And the Earth is robed in symbols of the Autumn-Spirit's reign!
While his tread is on the mountain, through the valley and the plain,
Like some Fate-commissioned angel, Desolation tracks his train,
And the glory of the Summer and the beauty of the Spring
Form a carpet for his feet, a fading, weird, and worn-out thing!
And his wings distil an odour, as of corpses in perfume,
Warbled through his ghastly whispers sound the sighs of buried bloom,
And his accents are dim echoes from the hollow caves of Death,
And the wailing woods are withered by his cold and crisping breath,
For the Autumn-Spirit reigneth over mountain, vale and plain,
And the Earth is robed in symbols of the Autumn-spirit's reign!
Where the Poet loves to saunter in some unfrequented nook,
Or to sit and learn the language of the ever-babbling brook,
While its glassy surface mirrors the deep gulf of Heaven's blue,
Where the sunny cloud-ships, sailing, point to vapour lands in view,
There the river's creeks are mantled with red leaves and yellow foam,
And its broken banks are scattered with dead branches dipped in loam,
And a wail of desolation through the fading forest hums,
And the Winds grow chill by thinking of the Winter ere it comes,
While the Autumn-Spirit reigneth over mountain, vale and plain,
And the Earth is robed in symbols of the Autumn-Spirit's reign!
Where the lily of the valley and the violet of the copse
Looked like Thoughts incorporated-like embodied youthful Hopes!
Where the golden-tubëd honeysuckle's pipes were interwound
With the ruddy-tinted roses breathing scented music round,
In the field or the forest, by the verdure-sheltered rills,
Where, in green and golden garments, Summer sate among the hills,
[...] Read more
poem by William Billington
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A Map Of Culture
Culture
Contents
What is Culture?
The Importance of Culture
Culture Varies
Culture is Critical
The Sociobiology Debate
Values, Norms, and Social Control
Signs and Symbols
Language
Terms and Definitions
Approaches to the Study of Culture
Are We Prisoners of Our Culture?
What is Culture?
I prefer the definition used by Ian Robertson: 'all the shared products of society: material and nonmaterial' (Our text defines it in somewhat more ponderous terms- 'The totality of learned, socially transmitted behavior. It includes ideas, values, and customs (as well as the sailboats, comic books, and birth control devices) of groups of people' (p.32) .
Back to Contents
[...] Read more
poem by Nyein Way
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l Losses Are Sometime Good...
Loss, most of the time bad. On occasion, great!
SOME TIME A LOSS CAN BE GOOD!
Can loss sometime be happy. You bet! Ask some
divorced couples.
The other guy had a loss and I won!
My ex had a loss, of most of our assets. Yes,
you guessed it, I got 'em!
Insurance companies, now there's some, that
many take great delight,
when they suffer a loss.
When the tax man does an audit, if they have
a loss, we have a win! (best kind of loss)
The person who brings suite against you,
suffers a loss. (Ain't that sweet?)
A hostile mother-in-law, suffers a loss,
when her daughter gets divorced.
When one experiences a weight loss.
Now that's something that would make
millions of people happy!
When the owner of your building, is deemed
to be, 'rent controlled, ' it brings a loss
to the greedy titleholder. (break out the champagne)
When the neighbor you hadn't spoken to for years,
has a loss, of the keys, to her car.
When the kid, who keeps running over your lawn,
with his bike, has a loss, of the two wheel monster.
When you child, who you love, but drives you nuts
with their loud music, has a broken stereo,
and a loss of music. (They're unhappy. You're ecstatic.)
When one has a loss of sleep, because their spouse
was amorous all night. (Ahhhh, the good old days.)
When your in-laws, prepare to come to your house,
for the first time, and have a loss of directions.
When your spouse, who cremates every barbecue
[...] Read more
poem by Joe Fazio
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Not All Losses Are Bad
Loss, most of the time bad. On occasion, great!
SOME TIME A LOSS CAN BE GOOD!
Can loss sometime be happy. You bet! Ask some
divorced couples.
The other guy had a loss and I won!
My ex had a loss, of most of our assets. Yes,
you guessed it, I got 'em!
Insurance companies, now there's some, that
many take great delight,
when they suffer a loss.
When the tax man does an audit, if they have
a loss, we have a win! (best kind of loss)
The person who brings suite against you,
suffers a loss. (Ain't that sweet?)
A hostile mother-in-law, suffers a loss,
when her daughter gets divorced.
When one experiences a weight loss.
Now that's something that would make
millions of people happy!
When the owner of your building, is deemed
to be, 'rent controlled, ' it brings a loss
to the greedy titleholder. (break out the champagne)
When the neighbor you hadn't spoken to for years,
has a loss, of the keys, to her car.
When the kid, who keeps running over your lawn,
with his bike, has a loss, of the two wheel monster.
When you child, who you love, but drives you nuts
with their loud music, has a broken stereo,
and a loss of music. (They're unhappy. You're ecstatic.)
When one has a loss of sleep, because their spouse
was amorous all night. (Ahhhh, the good old days.)
When your in-laws, prepare to come to your house,
for the first time, and have a loss of directions.
When your spouse, who cremates every barbecue
[...] Read more
poem by Joe Fazio
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Hey Foxymophandlemama, Thats Me
Dont you want people to love you?
My spanking, thats the only thing I want so much...
Spanking, thats the only thing I want so much...
Thats the only thing I want so much...
Dont you want people to love you?
My spanking, thats the only thing I want so much...
Thats the only thing I want so much...
Why is that better than being hugged?
Why is that better than being hugged?
Because you get closer to the person...
Closer to the person...
Why is that better than being hugged?
Because you get closer to the person...
Closer to the person...
Just like a person having sex feels cared for...
We wanna be loved, so we have sex together...
And they feel loved about that...
And this is the way it makes me feel...loved...
I want it, I dream about it, I think about it, I want it...
Just like a girl wants sex with a boy, you know?
Its the way Ill always be probably...
My last one was born in the system...
See, theyre stupid, very stupid, those people over there...
Theyre stupid...
These people are so below mentality, honest to god, really...
You know what I mean, he got the nerve to bug me...
You know what I mean, he got the nerve to bug me...
This mentality, honest to god, really...
You know what I mean, he got the nerve to bug me...
Honest to god, really...
You know what I mean, he got the nerve to bug me...
Bug me...bug me...he got the nerve to bug me...
Everything seems so eight ball...
Everything seems so eight ball...
And i, I dont know if thats my imagination, but, umm...
Hey foxymophandlemama, thats me...
And I dont know if thats my imagination, but, umm...
Hey foxymophandlemama, thats me...
Hey foxymophandlemama, thats me...
Think they got me...
Hey foxymophandlemama, thats me...hmm...
Hey foxymophandlemama, thats me...
...know if thats my imagination, but, umm...
Hey foxymophandlemama, thats me...
She prides herself on her cleaning habits...
She prides herself on her cleaning habits...
Hey foxymophandlemama, thats me...
She prides herself on her cleaning habits...
She prides herself on her cleaning habits...
Its a lovely stupid mop, it is...
[...] Read more
song performed by Pearl Jam
Added by Lucian Velea
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Stupid Mop
Don't you want people to love you
My spanking that's the only thing I want so much
Spanking that's the only thing I want so much
That's the only thing I want so much
Don't you want people to love you
My spanking that's the only thing I want so much
That's the only thing I want so much
Why is that better than being hugged
Why is that better than being hugged
Because you get closer to the person
Closer to the person
Why is that better than being hugged
Because you get closer to the person
Closer to the person
Just like a person having sex feels cared for
We wanna be loved so we have sex together
And they feel loved about that
And this is the way it makes me feel loved
I want it I dream about it I think about it I want it
Just like a girl wants sex with a boy you know
It's the way I'll always be probably
My last one was born in the system
See they're stupid very stupid those people over there
They're stupid
These people are so below mentality honest to God really
You know what I mean he got the nerve to bug me (x2)
This mentality honest to God really
You know what I mean he got the nerve to bug me
Honest to God really
You know what I mean he got the nerve to bug me
Bug me bug me he got the nerve to bug me
Everything seems so eight ball (x2)
And I I don't know if that's my imagination but umm
Hey foxymophandlemama that's me
And I don't know if that's my imagination but umm
Hey foxymophandlemama that's me (x2)
Think they got me
Hey foxymophandlemama that's me hmm
Hey foxymophandlemama that's me
Know if that's my imagination but umm
Hey foxymophandlemama that's me
She prides herself on her cleaning habits (x2)
Hey foxymophandlemama that's me
She prides herself on her cleaning habits (x2)
It's a lovely stupid mop it is
There's something really screwey about no streaking
Is it any old dumb mop It streaks
Come on mop no streaking mop
I don't mind mop the floor my mop streaks I don't like it
It's not me it's the mop
[...] Read more
song performed by Pearl Jam from Vittalogy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Synergy of Love
'Were you honed from poetry? '
I asked your saddened smile.
For it seems to tell a longing tale -
One of words in oratory
That speaks in languid metaphors
From lips of mind in deep despair
And solitude from inner wars
That over time has rendered life so frail.
'Were you carved from doleful prose? '
I sought to ask your gaze,
For a pain lies deep within your eyes -
One of barren territory
Where no fair heart could ever drift
And hope to venture back content
With grateful memories in a gift -
A land of your affectional demise.
'Do I hear a mournful hum? '
I wondered of your cry,
For it sings a song of deep lament -
One of quiet soliloquy
Recited on deserted strands
To waves that have no sense of song
And only wish to fight the sands -
A chant that cites emotional descent.
Do you know your face portrays
The colours of your soul?
It tells me at a single glance
Of how you burned your furnace whole
To stay the fire in our romance.
And see the prismic hues they bore!
I cherished all I ever saw:
Mauve of mystic; browns of rustic;
Reddened tones to match your blush;
Marine of passion, spending out your being,
Leaving you for ashen embers, fleeing
The dying light in hush of night.
And how you lay there empty.
So let me help re-grow the flowers
Once erect in fiery showers!
For now I've seen what love can do
When torn asunder - oh my catastrophic blunder!
But we must realise -
Our flaming want is meant to be!
We are the ocean and the sea;
[...] Read more
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Forsaking My Love
I hate you
I wish to tear you away from me
This tumor that clings to my chest
The thing that makes me ache
That haunts my dreams
And tears at my desires
You have brought me only pain
My untamed heart
That beast that gnaws at my soul
That pitifully whines
Bringing my mind into unwanted pain
Yet how can I blame you
How can I chastise you when I listen intently to your pleas
Why should I punish you for what my eyes feed upon
How can I blame my eyes for falling upon her
She who brings light to the eternal darkness of my soul
She whose eyes bring me to subjection
Whose smile leaves me in awe
How can I blame you when my ears are met with her laughter
How they submerge into her song
How they quiver at her voice
Why should I punish you for inclining my soul
Tempting it with the one sense that has been forsaken by her
How could I look over the thought of the brushing of lips
The touching of hands
The binding of the soul, mind, and body
O you wretched heart
What am I to do with this constant companion
How could I tear you away
When she is the cause of my agony
Or rather
It is the lack of her which brings me sorrow
It is the need for her that leaves my heart in pain
Yet she is not mine
She was never mine
She will never be mine
O my poor heart
How can I make you see reason
When all you do is show me the truth
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
love love love love love love love
[...] Read more
poem by Michael Silver
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M'Sieu Smit
THE ADVENTURES OF AN ENGLISHMAN IN THE CANADIAN WOODS.
Wan morning de walkim boss say 'Damase,
I t'ink you're good man on canoe d'ecorce,
So I'll ax you go wit' your frien' Philéas
An' meet M'sieu' Smit' on Chenail W'ite Horse.
'He'll have I am sure de grosse baggage--
Mebbe some valise--mebbe six or t'ree--
But if she's too moche for de longue portage
'Poleon he will tak' 'em wit' mail buggee.'
W'en we reach Chenail, plaintee peep be dere,
An' wan frien' of me, call Placide Chretien,
'Splain all dat w'en he say man from Angleterre
Was spik heem de crowd on de 'Parisien.'
Fonny way dat Englishman he'll be dress,
Leetle pant my dear frien' jus' come on knee,
Wit' coat dat's no coat at all--only ves'
An' hat--de more stranger I never see!
Wall! dere he sit on de en' some log
An' swear heem in English purty loud
Den talk Français, w'ile hees chien boule dog
Go smellim an' smellim aroun' de crowd.
I spik im 'Bonjour, M'sieu' Smit', Bonjour,
I hope dat yourse'f and famille she's well?'
M'sieu Smit' he is also say 'Bonjour,'
An' call off hees dog dat's commence for smell.
I tell heem my name dat's Damase Labrie
I am come wit' Philéas for mak' de trip,
An' he say I'm de firs' man he never see
Spik English encore since he lef' de ship.
He is also ax it to me 'Damase,
De peep she don't seem understan' Français,
W'at's matter wit' dat?' An' I say 'Becos
You mak' too much talk on de Parisien.'
De groun she is pile wit' baggage--Sapré!
An' I see purty quick we got plaintee troub--
Two tronk, t'ree valise, four-five fusil,
An' w'at M'sieu Smit' he is call 'bat' tubbe.'
M'sieu Smit' he's tole me w'at for's dat t'ing,
An' it seem Englishman he don't feel correc'
[...] Read more
poem by William Henry Drummond
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Loss Of...
Loss it seems is the worst kind of sorrow
Loss of dreams, the dreams of tomorrow
Loss of the moments you two should have shared
Loss of opportunities to show her you cared
Loss of the memories you both could have created
Loss of the romance once intense as you dated
Loss of a kiss, caress, or embrace
Loss of that special feeling no one else can replace
Loss of a look, the twinkle in her eye
Loss of the touch as you pass each other by
Loss of a future, from a past of regret
Loss of a last chance, how many do you get
Loss of a promise you never meant to break
Loss of two hearts that forever will ache
(2012)
poem by Michael Ernst
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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
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The Lady of the Lake: Canto II. - The Island
I.
At morn the black-cock trims his jetty wing,
'T is morning prompts the linnet's blithest lay,
All Nature's children feel the matin spring
Of life reviving, with reviving day;
And while yon little bark glides down the bay,
Wafting the stranger on his way again,
Morn's genial influence roused a minstrel gray,
And sweetly o'er the lake was heard thy strain,
Mixed with the sounding harp, O white-haired Allan-bane!
II.
Song.
'Not faster yonder rowers' might
Flings from their oars the spray,
Not faster yonder rippling bright,
That tracks the shallop's course in light,
Melts in the lake away,
Than men from memory erase
The benefits of former days;
Then, stranger, go! good speed the while,
Nor think again of the lonely isle.
'High place to thee in royal court,
High place in battled line,
Good hawk and hound for sylvan sport!
Where beauty sees the brave resort,
The honored meed be thine!
True be thy sword, thy friend sincere,
Thy lady constant, kind, and dear,
And lost in love's and friendship's smile
Be memory of the lonely isle!
III.
Song Continued.
'But if beneath yon southern sky
A plaided stranger roam,
Whose drooping crest and stifled sigh,
And sunken cheek and heavy eye,
Pine for his Highland home;
Then, warrior, then be thine to show
The care that soothes a wanderer's woe;
Remember then thy hap erewhile,
A stranger in the lonely isle.
'Or if on life's uncertain main
Mishap shall mar thy sail;
If faithful, wise, and brave in vain,
[...] Read more
poem by Sir Walter Scott
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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
poem by Sir Francis Bacon
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Loss Lost in Thought
Loss of love from your partner in soul:
A.k.a. jilt;
Loss of love from your bygones of souls:
A.k.a. mourning;
Loss of love which came from a dearth
Of love through rescinding love:
A.k.a. hatred;
Love to science in analysis be
Secretion of oxytocin in association
With an entity that leads to bonding - so boring:
A.k.a. must all suffer scientific explanation?
Loss of love, a catastrophe, nay!
So love, nurture love, and be loved!
Loss of nature from dear Mother Earth:
A.k.a. destruction;
Loss of greed in material world:
A.k.a. always opportunity for altruism;
Loss of kindness and pity and all:
A.k.a. human nature has dark undertones;
Loss of ego and fire of desire:
A.k.a. loss may be good in consequence;
Loss of responsibility; humility:
A.k.a. loss may be unnerving.
Loss of Homo sapiens:
A.k.a. demise of the flawed primate - pinnacle of Darwinism - equates to
No art; music; poetry; debate, and
Everything innate ornate of human!
So concentrate please, on bliss of this.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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My Loss
Watching as you drive away
Speed away so fast
Knowing something's different now
That ending was our last
Nothing describes the emptiness filled inside
Take me to that place
Where everything's fine
And not a worry in mind
Sweeter to the taste
This is my loss (my loss)
I did it wrong and i'd do it again
To be with you feels like the right thing
This is my loss (my loss)
I did it wrong and i try to pretend
That nothing's changed for all that you bring
For all that you bring
Simple is so complex now
So I understand
That I never thought that happy could be distraught
Help me if you can
This is my loss (my loss)
I did it wrong and i'd do it again
To be with you feels like the right thing
This is my loss (my loss)
I did it wrong and i try to pretend
That nothing's changed for all that you bring
Well I know I'm wrong
And you know I'm here
I don't want to let you disapear
What am I worth when your eyes were
Begging me in fear
I only want to see you again
And repair the wounds that brought me in
I don't want to think it won't happen again
This is my loss (my loss)
I did it wrong and i'd do it again
To be with you feels like the right thing
This is my loss (my loss)
I did it wrong and i try to pretend
That nothing's changed for all that you bring
For all that you bring
For all that you bring
For all you bring
song performed by 1208
Added by Lucian Velea
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Another Pyramid
Sad to say our mighty ruler
Is not really in the pink
Hopes could not be minuscular
That he'll come back from the brink
Not to beat around the bush
He looks like heading for his box
At the risk of seeming pushy
We must plan for future shocks
According to the hawk of Horus
Our most regal invalid
Is not that much longer for us
Build another pyramid
Build it, build it
Another pyramid
build it, build it
Though all doctors and physicians
Have been summoned to his bed
It'll soon be top morticians
We'll be calling for instead
With each wheeze the nation's humming
Egypt shakes with every cough
No two ways about what's coming
No discussion, bets are off
Soon our monarch will have filled the tomb
Just like his fathers did
Summon Egypt's greatest builder
Need another pyramid
Build it, build it
Another pyramid
Build it, build it
We hate to depress the nation
But our leader has been told
He should scrub his next vacation
Even put tonight on hold
This is where his loyal priesthood
Has the chance to do him proud
Holy leaders at the least should
See him happy to his shroud
He must have a vault that's grand by
Any standards for to live
Put five thousand slaves on standby
Build another pyramid
song performed by Sting
Added by Lucian Velea
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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
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Hudibras: Part 1 - Canto III
THE ARGUMENT
The scatter'd rout return and rally,
Surround the place; the Knight does sally,
And is made pris'ner: Then they seize
Th' inchanted fort by storm; release
Crowdero, and put the Squire in's place;
I should have first said Hudibras.
Ah me! what perils do environ
The man that meddles with cold iron!
What plaguy mischiefs and mishaps
Do dog him still with after-claps!
For though dame Fortune seem to smile
And leer upon him for a while,
She'll after shew him, in the nick
Of all his glories, a dog-trick.
This any man may sing or say,
I' th' ditty call'd, What if a Day?
For HUDIBRAS, who thought h' had won
The field, as certain as a gun;
And having routed the whole troop,
With victory was cock a-hoop;
Thinking h' had done enough to purchase
Thanksgiving-day among the Churches,
Wherein his mettle, and brave worth,
Might be explain'd by Holder-forth,
And register'd, by fame eternal,
In deathless pages of diurnal;
Found in few minutes, to his cost,
He did but count without his host;
And that a turn-stile is more certain
Than, in events of war, dame Fortune.
For now the late faint-hearted rout,
O'erthrown, and scatter'd round about,
Chas'd by the horror of their fear
From bloody fray of Knight and Bear,
(All but the dogs, who, in pursuit
Of the Knight's victory, stood to't,
And most ignobly fought to get
The honour of his blood and sweat,)
Seeing the coast was free and clear
O' th' conquer'd and the conqueror,
Took heart again, and fac'd about,
As if they meant to stand it out:
For by this time the routed Bear,
Attack'd by th' enemy i' th' rear,
Finding their number grew too great
For him to make a safe retreat,
[...] Read more
poem by Samuel Butler
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