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Sometimes love will pick you up by the short hairs...and jerk the heck out of you.

quote by Denise Dobbs
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Haywire

Cast: Channing Tatum, Michael Fassbender, Ewan McGregor, Michael Douglas, Antonio Banderas, Michael Angarano, Bill Paxton, Gina Carano, Mathieu Kassovitz

trailer for Haywire, directed by Steven Soderbergh, screenplay by Lem Dobbs (2011)
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With the exception of the New York Times, Fox news, and Lou Dobbs of CNN, and talk radio, the rest of the mainstream media has basically been silenced like a bunch of dumb monkeys.

quote by Curt Weldon
Added by Lucian Velea
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Haywire [trailer 2]

Cast: Gina Carano, Ewan McGregor, Michael Fassbender, Channing Tatum, Michael Douglas, Antonio Banderas, Michael Angarano, Bill Paxton, Mathieu Kassovitz, Eddie J. Fernandez, Anthony Brandon Wong, Tim Connolly

trailer for Haywire, directed by Steven Soderbergh, screenplay by Lem Dobbs (2012)
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The Company You Keep

Cast: Robert Redford, Shia LaBeouf, Julie Christie, Sam Elliott, Jackie Evancho, Terrence Howard, Brendan Gleeson, Richard Jenkins, Anna Kendrick, Brit Marling, Stanley Tucci, Nick Nolte, Chris Cooper, Susan Sarandon

trailer for The Company You Keep, directed by Robert Redford, screenplay by Lem Dobbs, inspired by Neil Gordon (2012)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Rope Swing

over River Ching,
attacked by floating feral shopping trolley.

Farmers` run off,
dead river, industrial open sewer

fizzing and foaming like Jekyll`s Tincture:
canals reborn!

Thames throws up a thousand years
every time the tide recedes;

riding bikes into the Lea,
drowning maggots by the million,

thug fisherman catching
and killing.

Fighting the flow at Dobbs Weir,
streaming green-weed scent

[...] Read more

poem by Bob Dellar
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Dirge

'Dr. Birch's young friends will reassemble to-day, Feb. 1st.'

White is the wold, and ghostly
The dank and leafless trees;
And 'M's and 'N's are mostly
Pronounced like 'B's and 'D's:
'Neath bleak sheds, ice-encrusted,
The sheep stands, mute and stolid:
And ducks find out, disgusted,
That all the ponds are solid.

Many a stout steer's work is
(At least in this world) finished;
The gross amount of turkies
Is sensibly diminished:
The holly-boughs are faded,
The painted crackers gone;
Would I could write, as Gray did,
An Elegy thereon!

[...] Read more

poem by Charles Stuart Calverley
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The Spellin'-Bee

I NEVER shall furgit that night when father hitched up Dobbin,
An' all us youngsters clambered in an' down the road went bobbin'
To school where we was kep' at work in every kind o' weather,
But where that night a spellin'-bee was callin' us together.
'Twas one o' Heaven's banner nights, the stars was all a glitter,
The moon was shinin' like the hand o' God had jest then lit her.
The ground was white with spotless snow, the blast was sort o' stingin';
But underneath our round-abouts, you bet our hearts was singin'.
That spellin'-bee had be'n the talk o' many a precious moment,
The youngsters all was wild to see jes' what the precious show meant,
An' we whose years was in their teens was little less desirous
O' gittin' to the meetin' so's our sweethearts could admire us.
So on we went so anxious fur to satisfy our mission
That father had to box our ears, to smother our ambition.
But boxin' ears was too short work to hinder our arrivin',
He jest turned roun' an' smacked us all, an' kep' right on a-drivin'.
Well, soon the schoolhouse hove in sight, the winders beamin' brightly;
The sound o' talkin' reached our ears, and voices laffin' lightly.
It puffed us up so full an' big 'at I'll jest bet a dollar,
There wa'n't a feller there but felt the strain upon his collar.

[...] Read more

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Fifth Book

AURORA LEIGH, be humble. Shall I hope
To speak my poems in mysterious tune
With man and nature,–with the lava-lymph
That trickles from successive galaxies
Still drop by drop adown the finger of God,
In still new worlds?–with summer-days in this,
That scarce dare breathe, they are so beautiful?–
With spring's delicious trouble in the ground
Tormented by the quickened blood of roots.
And softly pricked by golden crocus-sheaves
In token of the harvest-time of flowers?–
With winters and with autumns,–and beyond,
With the human heart's large seasons,–when it hopes
And fears, joys, grieves, and loves?–with all that strain
Of sexual passion, which devours the flesh
In a sacrament of souls? with mother's breasts,
Which, round the new made creatures hanging there,
Throb luminous and harmonious like pure spheres?–
With multitudinous life, and finally
With the great out-goings of ecstatic souls,

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
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