Do Men Menopause?
All women do menopause
But do all men menopause?
When I write and take a pause.
Lowered hormones are the cause.
Women's condition menopause.
Men's condition Andropause.
Aging women, no go
Aging men though low,
on hormones, it's still go.
So, the answer is Yes and No.
poem by Philo Yan
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Related quotes
Red Carpet
Uh, yeah (ooh yeah-yeah-yeah)
Check one, two, it's the Piper, AKA Kels (ooh yeah-yeah-yeah)
I'm in the building right now and uh (whoo)
I'm looking for nothing but steppers
(Tell me where the steppers at)
So get on the dance floor and come on
(Where are all the steppers at?)
(Ooh-ooh...) uh, I feel good
(Ooh-ooh...) I mean, I don't mean to brag, but uh
Custom green suit, apple 'gators
Hundred thousand on my wrist (whoo)
Pinky shining, Coup reclinin'
White TL linen outfits (whoo)
Jump out styling, ladies smiling
Paparazzis everywhere (whoo)
Hummer, stretches, limo, Lexus
Pull up while people stop and stare
(The whole scene looks like we're all on TV)
Ooh sometimes life can be like a dream
When you're living on the big screen
Fancy cars, movie stars
Red carpet and big applause
Limousines and search lights
This is how we gon' do it tonight, so...
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
You and your partner are so, so clean
So take a picture for the memory
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Ooh I wanna go steppin' now (whoa)
Step contest you know I'm 'bout to clown (yeah)
(All I need is my partner; we go together like a hand in glove)
Ooh DJ put the record on (yeah) picture it's my favorite song
(Step in the name of love) (whoo) one more time (step in the name of love) yeah
(Oh the whole scene looks like we're all on TV)
Ooh sometimes life can be like a dream (like a dream)
When you're living on the big screen (big screen)
Fancy cars, movie stars
Red carpet and big applause
Limousines and search lights
This is how we gon' do it tonight, so...
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
You and your partner are so, so clean
So take a picture for the memory
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
Pause (flash) pause (flash)
You know us (you know us) whoa
(You know how we like to dress up) and go out
[...] Read more
song performed by R. Kelly
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dinner Menu Affected The Bedroom
Insecticides concentrated
in meat and fish cause sterility
Amyloid plaque from meat
and fish... cause senility
The animal fat in meat fish
and dairy
clogs the arteries
reducing sexual
ability
*
PREVENTION OF SEXUAL TRAUMA
Impotence And Animal Flesh
A. CONQUERING IMPOTENCE
Dr. Michael Klaper, Md, in a public speech mentioned that a 25 per
cent blockage of penile arteries from cholesterol (animal fat) accounts for a quadrupled lack of function. Elimination of animal products in many cases returns sexual function. The Physicians' Desk Reference lists sexual dysfunction or impotence as a byproduct of many psychiatric drugs.
(Dr. Klaper is available through archives and live discussion on the web
at
Drs. Neal Barnard MD and Chaitowitz both concurred in this opinion in an
article in May in the Montreal Gazette.
National Public Radio on Sept 9,98 hosted the author of a book on Prozac
who stated that 30 to 40% of users feel a loss of sensation sexually.
Viagra has been correlated to heart attacks. (Eli Lilly and Pfizer
make these 2 drugs.) Fox News reported June 10,98 that Viagra in combination
with nitrates such as sodium nitrate used to color hot dogs can be lethal.
Dr. Drew, MD, host of Loveline, stated one should research the many
antidepressants which cause impotence.
B. CURING BREAST CANCER
(See the Ohio file no.7 under Nonviolent Action for an analysis of
federal and state programs regarding breast cancer.)
The New England Journal of Medicine in November of 1997 stated that
animal fats which become trans-fatty acids are a cause of breast cancer.
The major cause of breast removal in the U.S.is animal products.
(The five countries with the highest rates of breast
cancer have the highest animal product consumption. They are
Scandinavian countries, the U.S. and one other. Women with mastectomies lose
none of their beauty, but they have
a difficult time adjusting. Elimination of the butyric acid in animal
products makes the body more fragrant.
(Other factors in sexual dysfunction are generalized anger, anger with
the partner, low self esteem, general exhaustion, female hormones in animal
products, etc.)
The dietary causes of breast cancer are both the animal products and the
female hormones given to the animals. The Dept. of Defense Health Section in
October did a symposium on the trans fatty acids found in animal products as
a cause of cancer.
The administration's plan to give 450 million dollars to the testing
[...] Read more
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Condition Critical
Oh the tension's mounting
The pressure starts to show
All the men in haunting
Please don't let me go
(Don't go)
Try to free my body
(Don't go)
Try to strap me down
(Don't go)
These'll never break me
(Don't go)
Free wheel to look at me
Condition critical
I'm feeling physical
Condition critical
Now I'm really cynical
The bells they are ringing
Or is it in my head
My nerves numb understanding
I'm falling out of bed
(Don't go)
So call it paranoia
(Don't go)
I don't see it that way
(Let's go)
You say I adore ya
(Hell no)
We're gonna rock they way
Condition critical
I'm feeling physical
Condition critical
Now I'm really cynical
Ooh ooh
Whips and chains
Don't feel no pain
What's so wrong
I think I'm going out of my head
Over heels
I can't feel
No pain, only pleasure
Get me out
Take me home
Can't you see my condition
Woo-woo-woo
Condition
Condition
Condition critical, critical
Condition
Condition
Condition critical
[...] Read more
song performed by Quiet Riot
Added by Lucian Velea
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100 STD's 10,000 MTD's
There are STD's, sexually transmitted diseases.
and then there are MTD's, meat transmitted diseases.
The latter take a lot more lives.
*********
In Animal Flesh: Blood Sweat Tears as well as Carcinogens Cholesterol Colon Bacteria
Animal products kill more people annually in the US than
tobacco, alcohol, traffic accidents, war, domestic violence,
guns, and drugs combined. USAMRID wrote that consumption of pig flesh caused the world's most lethal pandemic in WW1,
euphemistically called flu. Anthrax
used to be called wool sorters'
disease. Smallpox used to be called
cow pox or kine pox because of
its origin in animal flesh.
.
WHAT'S IN A BURGER? BLOOD SWEAT AND TEARS (AS WELL AS BIOTERRORISM)
POISONS IN ANIMAL AND FISH FLESH... A PARTIAL LIST
a partial list in alphabetical order
acidification diseases
addiction (to trioxypurines)
adrenalin (secreted by terrorized
animals before and during slaughter)
ANTIBIOTICS (too many to list) (crowded factory farm animals standing in their own feces are often infected)
BACTERIA
creiophilic bacteria survive
the freezing of animal flesh
thermophilic bacteria survive
the baking boiling and roasting
bacteriophages (viruses FDA allows to
be injected)
blood
colon bacteria.. euphemistically
called ecoli animals defecate
all over themselves in terror
John Harvey Kellogg MD studied
the exponential rate into the billions
BSE DISEASES, PRIONS IN SPECIES FROM GELATIN (JELLO ETC)
Mad Chicken
[...] Read more
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Why Do I Write
I write from my sadness
I write from the madness
I write because I have something to say
I write to pass the day
I write only from the heart
I write for sometimes I am not that smart
Whatever is in head just comes out on paper (in this case a word document) , and I go with the flow
Write to let my mind go
I follow my hand to where ever it takes me
I write all the things that I can see
I write when I am happy, but not as much
I write from my heart that you can touch
I write because I’d go insane
I am driven to write quell my pain
At times I feel alone so I write what I am feeling
I write for it is self-healing
Confident not so I write it all away
I write and write to pass the day
I write to comfort my soul that cries out in the night
I write for love is always out of sight
I write so I don't have to cry any more
I write for I have no one to adore
I write so someone somewhere will hear my plea
I write for someone is out there for me
I am lost and I the clown
I write to turn my frown upside down
I write to embrace the sadness I hide inside
I write with my heart opened wide
I write to silence the ghost
I write for I’ve been let down by the one I loved the most
I write through the stormy weather
I write for I am light as a feather
I am not a writer nor am I a poet
I write for the grief I do know it
I will write until I draw my last breath
I write because I'll die a lonely death
I have to write for strangers delight
I write because I have to write
I write for my own happiness
I write to relieve my stress
I write because I have no other choice
I write as if I was writing a letter
I write because I can’t do any better
I write because I am afraid not to
I write for this is what I do
I write for I give a damn
[...] Read more
poem by Wilfred Mellers
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Answered Prayer
Every problem has solutions
Look inside your heart, see what you might find
You can draw your own conclusions
Theres summer in your soul, winter in your mind
I love, I love, I love you
I need, I need, I need you there
I love, I love, I love you
Let me be your answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry, tears dry
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Unhappy for a long time
A subtle shade of blue, indigo, thats you
You say that loves so hard to find
It just eluded you, Ive been eluded, too
I love, I love, I love, I love you
I need, I need, I need you there
Ive got to, got to, got to have you
Let me be your answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry, tears dry
Answered prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry, tears dry
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Open up your mind, open up your heart
Unlock your dreams, unchain desire
Open up your arms, open up your eyes
Answer my prayer
Truth be told, word to the wise
Open your heart, babe, open your eyes
Unlock your dreams, unchain desire
Answer my prayer, answer my prayer
Answer my prayer
Prayer
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
All I want you to do, all I want to do
Is to answer my prayer, answer baby
(answer my, answer my, answer my prayer)
Dont cry
Now give me answer, give me an answer, give me an answer
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh yeah
song performed by Abc
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Answer
Yeah,
I've been waiting for you
So patiently
And now you're here
Ohhhhhh
You're my answer
Thank you (Yeah)
Ohhhhhh
I think you're my answer
Uh, Here I go
You're the answer
All this time I've tried to find you
I've been yearnin' (I've been yearning inside)
You're the answer to the question that's been burning (I've been burning inside)
When they ask me who I love
You're the answer (You're my answer)
You're my answer
Patiently I've waited for this day to finally come
Knowing someday somehow I would find that special one
Someone perfect, someone true, someone that I knew, was you (I knew it was you)
Who can hold me tight, keep me warm, through the night
Who can wipe my tears, when it's wrong, make it right
Who can give me love, 'til I'm satisfied
Who's the one I need in my life
You're the answer
All this time I've tried to find you
I've been yearnin' (I've been yeaning inside)
You're the answer to the question that's been burning (I've been burning inside)
When they ask me who I love
You're the answer (You're the answer baby)
You're my answer
I can hardly speak because I'm underneath your spell
Saving every moment that I have you to myself
Putting my love to the test
'Cuz baby this is destiny (Yeah, This is destiny)
You can hold me tight, keep me warm, through the night
You can wipe my tears, when its wrong, make it right
You can give me love, 'til I'm satisfied
You're the one I need in my life
You're the answer
All this time I've tried to find you
I've been yearnin' (I've been yearning)
You're the answer to the question that's been burning (I've been burning inside)
When they ask me who I love
You're the answer (You're my answer)
You're my answer (You're my answer)
You're the answer (Yeah)
All this time I've tried to find you
I've been yearnin' (I've been yearning for you)
You're the answer to the question that's been burning (Burning)
[...] Read more
song performed by Britney Spears
Added by Lucian Velea
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A Poem Written By A Confessed Bipolar (her Name To Be Revealed Upon Her Permission)
I write because I can
I write because there are so many things to be written.
I write because I can make a painting without a brush and paints in my hand.
I write because I can capture the moment without having a camera.
I write because letters and words are the only recipe I know how to cook.
I write because I want to read what I’ve written.
I write because I’m used to speak in silence.
I write because I have a story to tell.
I write because I want to strip off my flesh and live as a pure being.
I write because I can record my “voice” without having a recorder.
I write because it’s like a cup of coffee, it keeps me awake
I write because I want to live even when I do not exist.
I write because this is my throwing stones when I’m frustrated.
6/11/09 at 4: 42 PM
I write because I can flaunt my being when I don’t have clothes to show off.
I write because this is like making an encyclopedia to a coloring book.
I write because it’s more effective than my lithium medication.
I write because I’m tired of carrying these baggages on the road.
I write because I’m tired of talking too much.
I write because it’s a healthier diversion than smoking.
I write because it’s more therapeutic than analyzing my problem.
I write because I want to paint a thousand pictures with words.
I write because I can put colors to the letters and make a rainbow of words.
I write because it’s the key combinations to my hidden vaults.
I write because my ball pen is my best friend in the darkest nights.
I write because it surprises me with what I am capable of thinking&doing. 6/11/09 at 4: 43 PM
I write because I like that ideas are popping like pop corns.
I write because I can wander in the adventures of my own world.
I write because I have to cleanse my collection of memories of an old home.
I write because like a mirror you need to do a lot of reflections.
I write because I want to fight the battle of life.
I write because I wanted my little voice to be heard.
I write because I want to run from the insanities of the world.
I write because pictures don’t talk.
I write because it helps me connect the dots when I look back in my life.
I write because it brings me back to my crib of silence.
I write because it makes a buzz to other bees in my beehive.
I write because unlike my bike my destination is limitless.
I write because I want to become an inspiration without extinction 6/11/09 at 4: 43 PM
I write because like strumming of the guitar, it vibrates in my soul.
I write because I love to write.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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Take Your Life Off Pause
If you hesitate to bake it,
You or anyone will get to taste the cake.
Why is there a procrastination?
What is it you await to negotiate?
You will never know how that cake is rated.
Or even worthy of debate.
If you hestitate to bake it,
Pointless becomes the time wasted.
Take your life off pause,
Because you're seeking first to appease.
Take your life off pause,
Add to your life flavor.
Don't be afraid to dip into mystique.
Take your life off pause and bake it.
Take your life off pause and bake that cake.
Take your life off pause don't you fake it.
Take your life off pause don't wait too late.
Take your life off pause.
And...
Eliminate those tightened jaws.
You will never know how that cake is rated.
Or even worthy of debate.
If you hestitate to bake it,
Pointless is the time you waste.
Take your life off pause!
Bake and taste it.
And...
Take your life off pause.
Why negotiate?
Take your life off pause!
Bake and taste it.
And...
Take your life off pause.
Don't wait too late.
Take your life off pause!
Bake and taste it.
And...
Take your life off pause.
There is no need to debate.
Take your life off pause and bake it.
Take your life off pause and bake that cake.
Take your life off pause don't you fake it.
Take your life off pause don't wait too late.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Who Lowered 'This' Boom?
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom.
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom.
There is a generation crying.
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom.
There are so many people sighing.
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom.
Didn't we pay when we prayed with preachers?
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom.
Didn't we say we were through with leechers?
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom.
Oooooow....
Boom da boom boom
Boomidy boomidy boom.
Oooooow....
Boom da boom boom
Boomidy boomidy boom.
And these are the days...
So ripe for change.
And those who are amazed,
Can't believe the craze.
And the masses who are dazed!
Who lowered this boom?
Da boom boom...
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom boom.
Boomidy boomidy boom.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Write Me
Aerosmith
Write Me
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
I said, the ways of the night are evil with eyes that love the day,
but I'll never never never never never get so far away.
I said write me, write me, write me.
I said write me, write me, write me.
Well there's nothin' I can see that'd ever make
me want to be without her she's good, she's good to me.
Said there's no way to explain the kind of feeling
that you get out in the rain she's good, she's good to me.
See this emptiness inside it makes me scream
it make me crawl out of my high, she's good, she's good to me.
I love her.
Write me a letter, write me a letter, write it today, I'm goin' away.
Well I've been away forever, suicide's crossin' my mind,
But I'll never never never never never get so far behind.
Well I've been so many places hidin' from the wind and the rain,
But you could write me a letter for to save me from a goin' insane.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write.
I said write me, write, write, write me.
Write me, write, write, write me.
Don't write me baby.
song performed by Aerosmith
Added by Lucian Velea
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi
Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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8 Lust Severed From Love
When from love
is severed lust
reduced is the world's
level of trust
******************************
ANIMAL PRODUCTS REDUCE SEXUAL FUNCTIONING
(If you are celibate for spiritual or other reasons, please do
not take offense.)
INFERTILITY
Sons of coweating mothers have lower sperm counts
and some infertility, according to a
team at the University of Rochester Medical Center in New York
which studied data on the partners of 387 pregnant women in five U.S. cities between 2000 and 2005, and on the mothers of the fathers-to-be.
(reported by Reuters, ABC, and MSNBC)
GYNECOMASTIA
Gynecomastia is
swelling of male breasts, due in the US mainly to
the regime's allowance of female hormones given to
cows.. hormones banned in Europe before the WTO
rescinding for causing breast, uterine, cervical and prostate cancer.
IMPOTENCE AND ANIMAL FAT
The chief cause of impotence is
animal fat from meat fish and dairy
blocking the penile arteries..
Pfizer, Lilly and other manufacturers
of erectile dysfunction drugs
have hidden the correlation of
Viagra etc. to blindness. The increased
pressure from these drugs on
already blocked arteries causes
arterial pipebursts.
Michael Klaper, MD.. has lectured on meat as a cause of impotence
UNNATURAL SEXUAL EXCITATION
Female hormones in animal flesh (in the US and some other countries) constantly stimulate
[...] Read more
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Oxymoron
Oxymoron:
fresh fish
*********
JBO:
'The beach at Sanibel... an Arlington Cemetery of shells.'
*
Every suffocated or strangled fish is first given
waterboarding sensations.
*
Fishes more frequently than
mammals or birds are cut open
alive, while their eyes watch
the knifing of others and their
gills struggle for absent air.
Fish cannot scream.
Greed for suffocated fish flesh causes seals to be clubbed in Canada, Norway, S Africa etc., dolphins to be knifed in Japan, whales to be murdered by
Norwegian Japanese Icelandic and American Inuit fishermen, bears
to be murdered in Alaska, untold thousands of fishermen to
be lost in tsunamis,700 Bangladesh fishermen lost in just 1 storm, Thai fishermen working for slave wages, tens of millions around
the world to die of stomach cancer, food poisoning etc.**
What's in fish? unreported Mad Fish
Disease, nuclear toxins a million
times more concentrated than in
sea water, AIDS from unprocessed
human waste dumped into
the oceans, hepatitis, anaphylactic shock, ecoli,
and other food poisoning,
throat, stomach and other cancers,
mercury, lead, cadmium, arsenic, pbb's, pcb's, thousands
of carcinogenic industrial waste products, and heavy metal sired
brain damage, pfiesteria (red tide) which poisons the fishes
FISH CAN'T SCREAM, FISH TOXINS, FISH STORIES
Are all anglers stranglers?
Dick Gregory: Eating fish liver oil is like eating the filter out of a car.
[...] Read more
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Courtship of Miles Standish, The
I
MILES STANDISH
In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims
To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling,
Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather,
Strode, with a martial air, Miles Standish the Puritan Captain.
Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands behind him, and pausing
Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons of warfare,
Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber, --
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damascus,
Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic sentence,
While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, and matchlock.
Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic,
Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews of iron;
Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already
Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in November.
Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household companion,
Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window:
Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion,
Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the captives
Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, "Not Angles, but Angels."
Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the Mayflower.
Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupting,
Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth.
"Look at these arms," he said, "the war-like weapons that hang here
Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or inspection!
This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in Flanders; this breastplate,
Well I remember the day! once save my life in a skirmish;
Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet
Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero.
Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of Miles Standish
Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the Flemish morasses."
Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from his writing:
"Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the speed of the bullet;
He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield and our weapon!"
Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words of the stripling:
"See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an arsenal hanging;
That is because I have done it myself, and not left it to others.
Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an excellent adage;
So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens and your inkhorn.
Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, invincible army,
Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and his matchlock,
Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and pillage,
And, like Caesar, I know the name of each of my soldiers!"
This he said with a smile, that danced in his eyes, as the sunbeams
Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish again in a moment.
Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain continued:
"Look! you can see from this window my brazen howitzer planted
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poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Courtship of Miles Standish
I
MILES STANDISH
In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims
To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling,
Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather,
Strode, with a martial air, Miles Standish the Puritan Captain.
Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands behind him, and pausing
Ever and anon to behold his glittering weapons of warfare,
Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber, --
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damascus,
Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic sentence,
While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, and matchlock.
Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic,
Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews of iron;
Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already
Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in November.
Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household companion,
Writing with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window:
Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion,
Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the captives
Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, "Not Angles, but Angels."
Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the Mayflower.
Suddenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupting,
Spake, in the pride of his heart, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth.
"Look at these arms," he said, "the war-like weapons that hang here
Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or inspection!
This is the sword of Damascus I fought with in Flanders; this breastplate,
Well I remember the day! once save my life in a skirmish;
Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet
Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero.
Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of Miles Standish
Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the Flemish morasses."
Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from his writing:
"Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the speed of the bullet;
He in his mercy preserved you, to be our shield and our weapon!"
Still the Captain continued, unheeding the words of the stripling:
"See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an arsenal hanging;
That is because I have done it myself, and not left it to others.
Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an excellent adage;
So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens and your inkhorn.
Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, invincible army,
Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and his matchlock,
Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and pillage,
And, like Caesar, I know the name of each of my soldiers!"
This he said with a smile, that danced in his eyes, as the sunbeams
Dance on the waves of the sea, and vanish again in a moment.
Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain continued:
"Look! you can see from this window my brazen howitzer planted
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Just Dropped In
To see what condition my condition was in)
(mickey newbury)
(yeah, yeah, oh-yeah, what condition my condition was in)
I woke up this mornin with the sundown shinin in
I found my mind in a brown paper bag within
I tripped on a cloud and fell-a eight miles high
I tore my mind on a jagged sky
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in
(yeah, yeah, oh-yeah, what condition my condition was in)
I pushed my soul in a deep dark hole and then I followed it in
I watched myself crawlin out as I was a-crawlin in
I got up so tight I couldnt unwind
I saw so much I broke my mind
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in
(yeah, yeah, oh-yeah, what condition my condition was in)
Someone painted april fool in big black letters on a dead end sign
I had my foot on the gas as I left the road and blew out my mind
Eight miles outta memphis and I got no spare
Eight miles straight up downtown somewhere
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in
I said I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in
Yeah yeah oh-yeah
song performed by Kenny Rogers
Added by Lucian Velea
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VII. Pompilia
I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.
All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.
Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—
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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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Second Book
TIMES followed one another. Came a morn
I stood upon the brink of twenty years,
And looked before and after, as I stood
Woman and artist,–either incomplete,
Both credulous of completion. There I held
The whole creation in my little cup,
And smiled with thirsty lips before I drank,
'Good health to you and me, sweet neighbour mine
And all these peoples.'
I was glad, that day;
The June was in me, with its multitudes
Of nightingales all singing in the dark,
And rosebuds reddening where the calyx split.
I felt so young, so strong, so sure of God!
So glad, I could not choose be very wise!
And, old at twenty, was inclined to pull
My childhood backward in a childish jest
To see the face of't once more, and farewell!
In which fantastic mood I bounded forth
At early morning,–would not wait so long
As even to snatch my bonnet by the strings,
But, brushing a green trail across the lawn
With my gown in the dew, took will and way
Among the acacias of the shrubberies,
To fly my fancies in the open air
And keep my birthday, till my aunt awoke
To stop good dreams. Meanwhile I murmured on,
As honeyed bees keep humming to themselves;
'The worthiest poets have remained uncrowned
Till death has bleached their foreheads to the bone,
And so with me it must be, unless I prove
Unworthy of the grand adversity,–
And certainly I would not fail so much.
What, therefore, if I crown myself to-day
In sport, not pride, to learn the feel of it,
Before my brows be numb as Dante's own
To all the tender pricking of such leaves?
Such leaves? what leaves?'
I pulled the branches down,
To choose from.
'Not the bay! I choose no bay;
The fates deny us if we are overbold:
Nor myrtle–which means chiefly love; and love
Is something awful which one dare not touch
So early o' mornings. This verbena strains
The point of passionate fragrance; and hard by,
This guelder rose, at far too slight a beck
Of the wind, will toss about her flower-apples.
Ah–there's my choice,–that ivy on the wall,
That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow
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poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Canto the First
I
I want a hero: an uncommon want,
When every year and month sends forth a new one,
Till, after cloying the gazettes with cant,
The age discovers he is not the true one;
Of such as these I should not care to vaunt,
I'll therefore take our ancient friend Don Juan—
We all have seen him, in the pantomime,
Sent to the devil somewhat ere his time.
II
Vernon, the butcher Cumberland, Wolfe, Hawke,
Prince Ferdinand, Granby, Burgoyne, Keppel, Howe,
Evil and good, have had their tithe of talk,
And fill'd their sign posts then, like Wellesley now;
Each in their turn like Banquo's monarchs stalk,
Followers of fame, "nine farrow" of that sow:
France, too, had Buonaparté and Dumourier
Recorded in the Moniteur and Courier.
III
Barnave, Brissot, Condorcet, Mirabeau,
Petion, Clootz, Danton, Marat, La Fayette,
Were French, and famous people, as we know:
And there were others, scarce forgotten yet,
Joubert, Hoche, Marceau, Lannes, Desaix, Moreau,
With many of the military set,
Exceedingly remarkable at times,
But not at all adapted to my rhymes.
IV
Nelson was once Britannia's god of war,
And still should be so, but the tide is turn'd;
There's no more to be said of Trafalgar,
'T is with our hero quietly inurn'd;
Because the army's grown more popular,
At which the naval people are concern'd;
Besides, the prince is all for the land-service,
Forgetting Duncan, Nelson, Howe, and Jervis.
V
Brave men were living before Agamemnon
And since, exceeding valorous and sage,
A good deal like him too, though quite the same none;
But then they shone not on the poet's page,
And so have been forgotten:—I condemn none,
But can't find any in the present age
Fit for my poem (that is, for my new one);
So, as I said, I'll take my friend Don Juan.
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poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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