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Clearly he had his own strange way of judging things. I suspect he acquired it from the gospels.

Victor Hugo in Les Miserables
Added by Lucian Velea
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Strange Things Happen

She believes in god
And karma too
Paranormal powers
You know some people do
Got scorpio risin
Uh huh
Tell you whats in your stars
She was down in rio
Turn the heads of state
Got em into makin
This planet a better place
On copacabana
Uh huh
Oh yeah she radiate better go meditate
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen
Strange things happen
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen to me
Strange things happen
Oh ohhh ohhhh
Oh oh strange things happen
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen to me
Met a pshycic reader
With a crystal ball
Had a vision
Said we could have it all
I caught her gazin
Uh huh
At our destiny cosmically
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen
Oh ohhh ohhhh
Oh oh strange things happen
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen to me
Strange things happen
Oh ohhh ohhhh
Oh oh strange things happen
Everytime I touch my baby
Strange things happen to me
Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange
Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange
Strange strange strange
Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange
Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange
Strange strange strange
Strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange strange
Strange strange strange strange strange

song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Strange

Start making sense
Of everything Ive seen before, well, um
Somewhere in my life
Been paying the price
But that aint enough anymore, well
Dont get me wrong now baby
Dont get me wrong baby
Strange, strange, strange
Things that happen to me
I dont know if Im coming or going, baby, well
Strange, strange, strange
Things you keep on doing
Somethings getting outta control
Cant help myself
To everything Im looking for
No, no, no
Sometimes I cant explain
Why I go insane
It just isnt fun anymore, well
Dont get me wrong now baby
Dont get me wrong baby
Strange, strange, strange
Things that happen to me
I dont know if Im coming or going, baby, well
Strange, strange, strange
Things you keep on doing
Somethings getting outta control
Outta control
Yeah
Shame on you
Dont get me wrong now baby
Dont get me wrong baby
Strange, strange, strange
Things that happen to me
I dont know if Im coming or going, baby, well
Strange, strange, strange
Things you keep on doing (keep on doing)
Somethings getting outta control
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, well
Strange, strange, strange
Things that happen to me
I dont know if Im coming or going, baby, well
Strange, strange, strange
Things you keep on doing (keep on doing)
Somethings getting outta
Somethings getting outta
Somethings getting outta control
Outta control
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Strange, strange, strange

[...] Read more

song performed by Wet Wet Wet
Added by Lucian Velea
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Strange Magic

Youre sailing softly through the sun
In a broken stone age dawn.
You fly so high.
I get a strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic.
Youre walking meadows in my mind,
Making waves across my time,
Oh no, oh no.
I get a strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic.
Oh, Im never gonna be the same again,
Now Ive seen the way its got to end,
Sweet dream, sweet dream.
Strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic.
Its magic, its magic, its magic.
Strange magic,
Oh, what a strange magic,
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic.
Strange magic strange magic
Oh, what a strange magic strange magic
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic.
Strange magic strange magic
Oh, what a strange magic strange magic
Oh, its a strange magic.
Got a strange magic,
Got a strange magic,
You know I got a strange magic,
Yeah, I got a strange magic,
Oo-o-o-oo, strange magic. (fade)

song performed by Electric Light Orchestra
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Suspect

I suspect...
You are the only one who knows,
What you are doing.
And I suspect,
You also choose the way you feel,
When this you do.
Whether that color is bright,
Sunny and yellow mellow.
Or royal blue to appear as you do,
In the dumps with clouds gray...
That appear to be near you to subdue.

I suspect...
Any cheerfulness you get,
Comes from your chasing of rainbows.
After your eyes have dropped rain...
From many tears you've wept.
With no bucket of gold,
At the end of those chased rainbows.

I suspect...
The happiness I have chosen,
Makes you upset.
Because I wont let you,
Lead my parade...
With a showering done,
Of a negligence you wish to pour on me.
And this I will not accept,
To be in a darkened blackness on bended knees.
Not me!
You wont find me trying to please your disrespect.

I'm on the go and I am green.
Keeping my mind opened,
To experience refreshing beneficial scenes.
Romancing an agony?
You will not find yourself doing that here with me.

I suspect...
There is a controlling of me you wish to do.
In a closeness together...
I will not allow us to get.
Or you attempt to pursue.

And I suspect you have a selfishness.
Since only those things you wish to do...
Disregards what my wishes are with much disrespect.
Yes.
I've noticed that about you too.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Strange Kind Of Love

(myles goodwyn)
Published by mfg sing sing music/socan - ascap
Mystery woman, you play at night
Under darkness, you make everything alright
You wave your magic, and Im in your spell
It may be trouble, but its too soon to tell
Ill go out the back door, if only I could
Baby, youve been up to no good
Its a strange kind of love (strange love), thats leadin me on
Maybe Ill just hang out till dawn
Its a strange love, but its feelin so right
Maybe I should stay here tonight
Its a strange kind of lovin, alright
Call me, what you will
Say I must be crazy, to be addicted to the thrill
Of a mystery woman, with eyes of fire
Feelin hopeless as the flames just grow higher
The other side of midnight, shadows dancing aglow
Its a place, where no man should go
Its a strange kind of love (strange love), thats leadin me on
Maybe Ill just hang out till dawn, yeah
Its a strange love, but it feels so right
Maybe I should stay here tonight
Its a strange kind of lovin, alright, strange kind of love
I dont need trouble, gettin in my way
I got this feelin, that I should turn and walk away
Youre an evil spirit, thats what you are
And Im afraid youre gonna take things too far
Youre tryin to tell me somethin babe, my minds in a haze
Excuse me, but I cant look away
Strange love, thats leadin me on
Maybe Ill just hang out till dawn
Its a strange love, but its feelin so right
Maybe I should stay here tonight
Its a strange love, but Im under your spell
Baby I just cant turn away
A strange love, ooh, but its feelin so right
Mabye I should leave here tonight
A strange kind of lovin, alright
A strange kind of love
A strange kind of love
A strange kind of love, yeah
A strange kind of love
A strange kind of love, baby
Youre a strange kind of love, yeah

song performed by April Wine
Added by Lucian Velea
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Strange

Strange, how you stopped loving me!
How you stopped needing me!
When you came along, oh how strange!
Strange, how you stopped loving me!
How you stopped needing me!
When you came along, oh how strange!
Strange, you change like night and day
Just stopped and walked away
When you came along, oh how strange!
Well I guess that I was meant to be
A puppet on a string
To think I found you really love me
Look what love can bring
Strange, youre still in all my dreams
Oh what a foolish me
I still care for you, oh how strange!
How strange!
Well I guess that I was meant to be
A puppet on a string
To think I found you really love me
Look what love can bring
Strange, how you stopped loving me!
How you stopped needing me!
When you came along, oh how strange!
Strange, you change like night and day
Just stopped and walked away
When you came along, oh how strange!
Strange, youre still in all my dreams
Oh what a foolish me
I still care for you, oh how strange!
Well I guess that I was meant to be
A puppet on a string
To think I found you really love me
Look what love can bring
Strange, youre still in all my dreams
Oh what a foolish me
I still care for you, oh how strange!
Strange, how you stopped loving me!
How you stopped needing me!
When you came along, oh how strange!
Strange, youre still in all my dreams
Oh what a foolish me
I still care for you, oh...

song performed by Boney M.
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Saw It Myself (Short Verse Drama)

Dramatis Personae: Adrian, his wife Ester, his sisters Rebecca and Johanna, his mother Elizabeth, the high priest Chiapas, the disciple Simon Peter, the disciple John, Mary Magdalene, worshipers, priests, two angels and Jesus Christ.

Act I

Scene I.- Adrian’s house in Jerusalem. Adrian has just returned home after a business journey in Galilee, in time to attend the Passover feast. He sits at the table with his wife Ester and his sisters, Rebecca and Johanna. It’s just before sunset on the Friday afternoon.

Adrian. (Somewhat puzzled) Strange things are happening,
some say demons dwell upon the earth,
others angelic beings, miracles take place
and all of this when they had put a man to death,
had crucified a criminal. Everybody knows
the cross is used for degenerates only!

Rebecca. (With a pleasant voice) Such harsh words used,
for a good, a great man brother?
They say that without charge
he healed the sick, brought back sight,
cured leprosy, even made some more food,
from a few fishes and loafs of bread…

Adrian. (Somewhat harsh) They say many things!
That he rode into Jerusalem
to be crowned as the new king,
was a rebel against the state,
even claimed to be
the very Son of God,
now that is blasphemy
if there is no truth to it!

Johanna. I met him once.
He’s not the man
that you make him, brother.
There was a strange tranquilly to Him.
Some would say a divine presence,
while He spoke of love that is selfless,
visited the sick, the poor
and even the destitute, even harlots.

Adrian. (Looks up) There you have it!
Harlots! Tax collecting thieves!
A man is know by his friends,
or so they say and probably
there is some truth to it.

Ester. Husband, do not be so quick to judge.
I have seen Him myself, have seen
Roman soldiers marching Him to the hill
to take His life, with a angry crowd
following and mocking Him.

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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Strange Bird

Strange bird
By: jimmy buffett, jay oliver
1989
Half fast and seldom seen
He dont blip the radar screen
On the deck below the dune
Under the commanders moon
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
God only knows where the strange bird goes when hes flying
Everybodys trying to find him
But they dont know where to start
The ornithologist lady says that he has wings on his heart
Chorus:
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
If you cant catch him you cant name him
If you cant see him you cant claim him
Stay on the ground or he will shoot you down
Wings on his heart, hes a strange bird
Frequent flyer, seldom seen
High above the caribbean
In my day Ive met a few but hes the strangest bird thats true
Chorus:
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
If you cant catch him you cant name him
If you cant see him you cant claim him
Stay on the ground or he will shoot you down
Wings on his heart, hes a strange bird
But hes in love with the lady of the waters
And she lives somewhere up around cheauxvan
Hes gonna circle high above her runway of love
Until she gives him her permission to land
Chorus:
Strange bird from a different nest
Flying low not like all of the rest
If you cant catch him you cant name him
If you cant see him you cant claim him
Stay on the ground or he will shoot you down
Wings on his heart, hes a strange bird
Watch out girl, hes a strange bird
Strange bird flying low
cross the gulf of mexico
Strange bird not like all the rest
Watch out girl hes a strange bird
Shoot you down, hes a strange bird
Its a bird, its a plane, its a strange bird

song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
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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.

[...] Read more

poem by Byron from Don Juan (1824)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Strange But True

Okay, let me say this quick - before I start 2 cry
Ure the only one that I gave it 2, the one I fantasised 4
And time away from u has taught me
What I should have known
That this hole Im trying 2 fill with another - yeah, its grown
And I got your package
But when I tried 2 write back I bailed
See, trying 2 express the future, sometimes language fails
And over this time Ive learned
My life force is increased by knowing u
Every door that closes, another one opens
Strange but true
Strange but true
No regrets because I forget the unfamiliar faces
Those petty lies and alibis, just golddiggas chasing
Dreams of sovereignty, they tried to come between u and me
A curse therein set forces a chain of events
That only freed me when I remembered
Where I was and who I am
The only prince that will ever rule this holy land
All understand and all standunder this affirmation now
By the power invested in me by god...
All negativity bows
Strange but true, lets see what u can do
U may have lost me, but I found myself
The ones who love me without condition - this is my wealth
And with these words I will win
Repeat them over and over again
All understand and all standunder this affirmation now
By the power invested in me by god...
All negativity bows
All negativity bows
All negativity bows
Strange but true, lets see what u can do
Strange but true, lets see what u can do
All negativity bows
(strange but true)
(strange but true)
Strange but true (true, true...)
All negativity bows
(strange but true, lets see what u can do)
All negativity bows
(all negativity bows)
Strange but true
Strange but true
(strange but true)
(strange but true)
Strange but true

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Strange Boat

Were sailing on a strange boat
Heading for a strange shore
Were sailing on a strange boat
Heading for a strange shore
Carrying the strangest cargo
That was ever hauled aboard
Were sailing on a strange sea
Blown by a strange wind
Were sailing on a strange sea
Blown by a strange wind
Carrying the strangest crew
That ever sinned
Were riding in a strange car
Were followin a strange star
Were climbing on the strangest ladder
That was ever there to climb
Were living in a strange time
Working for a strange goal
Were living in a strange time
Working for a strange goal
Were turning flesh and body
Into soul

song performed by Waterboys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Gnostic Texts

Described as snobbish and elite
by Garry Wills,
what the Church wished to delete
provides me thrills.
I’m thinking of the Gnostic text
that, somewhat rude, is
opposed to those disciples vexed
by deeds of Judas,
proposing that he was opposed
to martyrdom,
which Christians have so long supposed
to be the bomb
that made so popular the myth
this text explodes.
Like Pagels, I am happy with
such Gnostic codes.

Inspired by “Reading Judas: The Gospel of Judas and the Shaping of Christianity, ” by Elaine Pagels and Karen L. King (New York: Penguin,2007) , and Gary Wills’s description of second century Gnostic texts such as “The Gospel of Juddas” as “elite and snobbish” in his book “What The Gospels Meant, ” reviewed by David Gibson (“What Jesus Really Did, ” NYT, March 2,2008) :
“What the Gospels Meant” starts straightforwardly with a helpful explanation of just what a Gospel is: “a meditation on the meaning of Jesus in the light of sacred history as recorded in the sacred writings.” Wills then parses the Gospel of Mark, the earliest account, as a “report from the suffering body of Jesus, ” written to comfort early Christians facing persecution. Matthew’s is the teaching Gospel, recounting many of Christianity’s most familiar sermons. The erudite Luke presents “the reconciling body of Jesus, ” a Gospel of poignant stories like the Prodigal Son and the Good Samaritan that display the humanity of Jesus and the universality of his message. John is, as ever, the theologian, a prophetic voice from “the mystical body of Jesus.” Yet the paradox of modern Christianity is that the growth of biblical scholarship, and the fervor of believers in sola Scriptura (Scripture alone) , has done so little to affect the mass of biblical illiterates who proclaim their convictions about what Jesus would do while knowing precious little about what he actually did or, more important, what he meant. Neo-atheists aren’t much better, sneering at Christians but displaying ignorance about Christianity. And neo-Gnostics — academics and acolytes who claim to channel the rebel spirit of various early Christian offshoots — routinely confer on “elite and snobbish” (Wills’s phrase) second-century texts an authority they rarely grant to the canon. Such literalism sustains a fragile faith.
In this sense, Wills is a dangerous man. He does not create a foolish consistency out of differing Gospels, but underscores the attributes of each narrative to highlight truths more crucial than whether there were four discrete Evangelists, or whether three wise men actually followed a star in the East. The credulous will be shocked by his rationality, while skeptics will be scandalized by his respect for the faith. To be sure, Wills includes asides that will win few points with Rome, like his claim that the virgin birth “is not a gynecological or obstetric teaching, but a theological one.” And he throws in facts that can be mischievously tossed out at family gatherings or, worse, to the pastor after Sunday services — for example, that the crown of thorns was probably a wreath of acanthus leaves. (Wills also provides his own translations of the original “marketplace” Greek, though I’m not sure that killing the “pampered” calf or hearing that the Word became flesh and “bivouacked with us” will catch on.)

12/28/09

poem by Gershon Hepner
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Strange Pursuit

Intersecting love lines
Drew us closer every day
Always kept your distance
When you felt my presence near you
Love keeps on rolling over
Fly in retreat
I would follow without shame
A stupid spud staggering to the flame
To be had and rehad
Be a victim of the pain
Now its strange, its so strange
Its a strange pursuit
Its a strange pursuit
Its a strange pursuit
I come running like a fatboy
In lead shoes
But like a fatboy
Huff puffing after you
Its hopeless to hope for
The one thing that Im wanting
cause its strange
Its so very strange
Its a strange pursuit
Darling, Im dazzled
But you know Im too frazzled
Its a strange pursuit
Makin my mind up
While it lies in little pieces
Its a strange pursuit
You know its getting tough
When youre getting real rough
Its a strange pursuit
Darling, Im dazzled
But you know Im too frazzled
Its a strange pursuit
Makin my mind up
While it lies in little pieces
It s a strange pursuit

song performed by Devo
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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The House Of Dust: Complete

I.

The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light.
The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the east:
And lights wink out through the windows, one by one.
A clamor of frosty sirens mourns at the night.
Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up from the sunken sun.

And the wandering one, the inquisitive dreamer of dreams,
The eternal asker of answers, stands in the street,
And lifts his palms for the first cold ghost of rain.
The purple lights leap down the hill before him.
The gorgeous night has begun again.

'I will ask them all, I will ask them all their dreams,
I will hold my light above them and seek their faces.
I will hear them whisper, invisible in their veins . . .'
The eternal asker of answers becomes as the darkness,
Or as a wind blown over a myriad forest,
Or as the numberless voices of long-drawn rains.

We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .

Good-night! Good-night! Good-night! We go our ways,
The rain runs over the pavement before our feet,
The cold rain falls, the rain sings.
We walk, we run, we ride. We turn our faces
To what the eternal evening brings.

Our hands are hot and raw with the stones we have laid,
We have built a tower of stone high into the sky,
We have built a city of towers.

Our hands are light, they are singing with emptiness.
Our souls are light; they have shaken a burden of hours . . .
What did we build it for? Was it all a dream? . . .
Ghostly above us in lamplight the towers gleam . . .
And after a while they will fall to dust and rain;
Or else we will tear them down with impatient hands;
And hew rock out of the earth, and build them again.

II.

[...] Read more

poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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The King of the Vasse

A LEGEND OF THE BUSH.

MY tale which I have brought is of a time
Ere that fair Southern land was stained with crime,
Brought thitherward in reeking ships and cast
Like blight upon the coast, or like a blast
From angry levin on a fair young tree,
That stands thenceforth a piteous sight to see.
So lives this land to-day beneath the sun,—
A weltering plague-spot, where the hot tears run,
And hearts to ashes turn, and souls are dried
Like empty kilns where hopes have parched and died.
Woe's cloak is round her,—she the fairest shore
In all the Southern Ocean o'er and o'er.
Poor Cinderella! she must bide her woe,
Because an elder sister wills it so.
Ah! could that sister see the future day
When her own wealth and strength are shorn away,
A.nd she, lone mother then, puts forth her hand
To rest on kindred blood in that far land;
Could she but see that kin deny her claim
Because of nothing owing her but shame,—
Then might she learn 'tis building but to fall,
If carted rubble be the basement-wall.

But this my tale, if tale it be, begins
Before the young land saw the old land's sins
Sail up the orient ocean, like a cloud
Far-blown, and widening as it neared,—a shroud
Fate-sent to wrap the bier of all things pure,
And mark the leper-land while stains endure.
In the far days, the few who sought the West
Were men all guileless, in adventurous quest
Of lands to feed their flocks and raise their grain,
And help them live their lives with less of pain
Than crowded Europe lets her children know.
From their old homesteads did they seaward go,
As if in Nature's order men must flee
As flow the streams,—from inlands to the sea.

In that far time, from out a Northern land,
With home-ties severed, went a numerous band
Of men and wives and children, white-haired folk:
Whose humble hope of rest at home had broke,
As year was piled on year, and still their toil
Had wrung poor fee from -Sweden's rugged soil.
One day there gathered from the neighboring steads,
In Jacob Eibsen's, five strong household heads,—
Five men large-limbed and sinewed, Jacob's sons,

[...] Read more

poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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The Victories Of Love. Book II

I
From Jane To Her Mother

Thank Heaven, the burthens on the heart
Are not half known till they depart!
Although I long'd, for many a year,
To love with love that casts out fear,
My Frederick's kindness frighten'd me,
And heaven seem'd less far off than he;
And in my fancy I would trace
A lady with an angel's face,
That made devotion simply debt,
Till sick with envy and regret,
And wicked grief that God should e'er
Make women, and not make them fair.
That he might love me more because
Another in his memory was,
And that my indigence might be
To him what Baby's was to me,
The chief of charms, who could have thought?
But God's wise way is to give nought
Till we with asking it are tired;
And when, indeed, the change desired
Comes, lest we give ourselves the praise,
It comes by Providence, not Grace;
And mostly our thanks for granted pray'rs
Are groans at unexpected cares.
First Baby went to heaven, you know,
And, five weeks after, Grace went, too.
Then he became more talkative,
And, stooping to my heart, would give
Signs of his love, which pleased me more
Than all the proofs he gave before;
And, in that time of our great grief,
We talk'd religion for relief;
For, though we very seldom name
Religion, we now think the same!
Oh, what a bar is thus removed
To loving and to being loved!
For no agreement really is
In anything when none's in this.
Why, Mother, once, if Frederick press'd
His wife against his hearty breast,
The interior difference seem'd to tear
My own, until I could not bear
The trouble. 'Twas a dreadful strife,
And show'd, indeed, that faith is life.
He never felt this. If he did,
I'm sure it could not have been hid;
For wives, I need not say to you,

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poem by Coventry Patmore
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It Doesn't Come Easy

Into a zone I own and claim.
And not only am I featured...
But I'm there in every scene.

Into a zone I own and claim.
And it took me quite a while,
To establish my own style.

It doesn't come easy,
To get up from a fall at all.
No matter who depicts,
What the picture represents.

It doesn't come easy...
To decide and get the nerve to play ball.
With thoughts of getting rid,
Of any suspect competition.

Into a zone I own and claim.
With thoughts of getting rid,
Of any suspect competition.
Into a zone I own and claim.
With thoughts of getting rid,
Of any suspect competition.

It doesn't come easy,
To get up from a fall at all.
No matter who depicts,
What the picture represents.

So many find their comforts in like minds.
Hoping that all will agree,
To their wants and spoiled needs.

Into a zone I own and claim.
With thoughts of getting rid,
Of any suspect competition.
Into a zone I own and claim.
With thoughts of getting rid,
Of any suspect competition.

It doesn't come easy,
To get up from a fall at all.
No matter who depicts,
What the picture represents.

Into a zone I own and claim.
It doesn't come easy,
To get up from a fall at all.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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On Hand Held Screens

Have I survived to realize,
Technology has taken over...
All of our lives.

Few talk but they text.
And...
Bloggers tweet to speak.
And...
Many don't suspect,
Their twitterings have been breached..

Video games can now be played,
Between those who are far away.
And do not have to be seen,
In person but on hand held screens.

Few talk but they text.
And...
Bloggers tweet to speak.
And...
Have I survived to realize,
Technology has taken over...
All of our lives.
And...
Friendships can be deleted,
Before these people meet.

Few talk but they text.
And...
Bloggers tweet to speak.
And...
Many don't suspect,
Their twitterings have been breached..

Video games can now be played,
Between those who are far away.
And don't have to be seen,
In person but on hand held screens.

And...
Deleted,
Before they meet.
And...
Deleted,
Before they speak.
And...
Many don't suspect,
Their twitterings have been breached.
And don't have to be seen,
In person but on hand held screens.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Suspicion Is Contageous

Scene 1.

When I feel warm in the middle of the night,
I suspect that electricity is cut off as usual
When I bite a pebble while eating rice,
I suspect that it is adulterated as usual.
When I am denied a seat to the university,
I suspect that I am less eligible than others, as usual.
When I am left to fend on my own with family and friend's support,
I suspect that my country is as useless as I, as usual.

Scene 2.

When I come out with my sling bag and laptop,
I am suspicious of everyone who looks at me.
When I walk to the tube and sit there comfortably,
I close my eyes tightly to avoid the suspicious eyes.
When I enter the workplace and talk to my colleagues,
who are as suspicious as I, exchange the suspicious greetings.
Wherever I go, I see the people who are suspicious of others,
cameras to catch the suspicious looking characters,
unattended bags are removed within half an hour,
for the fear of suspicious people planting bombs,
in some other places literally no rubbish bins,
and I am allowed to throw wherever I like,
and people are watching me always as a suspect,
and that makes me to be suspicious of them too.

When I come out with my sling bag,
I am suspicious of everyone who looka at me.

poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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