Quotes about magdalena
Magdalena
Writers: danny okeefe
Magdalena sits in her chair
Speaking on the mass
She talks in splice and splinters
She laughs not breaking glass
She said that she would have me
Spirit her away
Stealing all my images
Till theres nothin left to say
Oh, magdalena
Nothing like the saint you are
Your love is like a razor
My heart is just a scar
Oh, magdalena
Nothing like the saint you are
She tells me that she wants me
Then she tells me not to bother
She tells me that I couldnt hold
A candle to her father
She knows that shes got me
[...] Read more
song performed by Leo Sayer
Added by Lucian Velea
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Romance In Durango
Hot chili peppers in the blistering sun
Dust on my face and my cape,
Me and magdalena on the run
I think this time we shall escape.
Sold my guitar to the bakers son
For a few crumbs and a place to hide,
But I can get another one
And Ill play for magdalena as we ride.
No llores, mi querida
Dios nos vigila
Soon the horse will take us to durango.
Agarrame, mi vida
Soon the desert will be gone
Soon you will be dancing the fandango.
Past the aztec ruins and the ghosts of our people
Hoofbeats like castanets on stone.
At night I dream of bells in the village steeple
Then I see the bloody face of ramon.
Was it me that shot him down in the cantina
Was it my hand that held the gun?
[...] Read more
song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Trove at Bioda Mor
The last I saw of Sebastian Fudge
He was dancing the hempen jig,
To pay for the years of pirating
At the side of Captain Kidd.
While Kidd was swung at Tilbury,
Was dipped in a coat of tar,
Then hung in chains by the River Thames
As a sign to the faint of heart!
I'd sailed with Fudge on the Emerald,
In the days when men were bold,
And there wasn't a Frenchman privateer
That we couldn't divest of gold,
I thought of the Spanish throats we'd cut
And the nights of rum and hock,
As Fudge went tripping his final jig
At Execution Dock.
That left just me and Jackie Straw,
Midshipman Bowes, and Penn,
[...] Read more
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Art will remain the most astonishing activity of mankind, born out of struggle between wisdom and madness, between dream and reality, in our mind.
quote by Magdalena Abakanowicz
Added by Dan Costinaş
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Moment by moment
pendulum ticks the tempo
of a melody;
we are unwilling dancers
in an anonymous whirl
tanka by Magdalena Dale from Fire Pearls: Short Masterpieces of the Human Heart (2006), translated by Magdalena Dale
Added by Dan Costinaş
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Crucifix
Do not cry for me, Mother, seeing me in the grave.
I
This greatest hour was hallowed and thandered
By angel's choirs; fire melted sky.
He asked his Father:"Why am I abandoned...?"
And told his Mother: "Mother, do not cry..."
II
Magdalena struggled, cried and moaned.
Peter sank into the stone trance...
Only there, where Mother stood alone,
None has dared cast a single glance.
poem by Anna Akhmatova
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Elena (Twice Raped)
Born 1830 'Elena De Magdalena' in Mexico
Was kidnapped by Comanches at age nine or ten
At 13 she married a war chief named Ebi Pui
She was seen by Comanchero traders now n' then
At age 18 Elena was rescued by Mexican soldiers
Who had surprised her captors one early morn
She was taken back to her Mexican family
Where she was met with disdain n' with scorn
'Why did you not fight them or kill yourself'
Elena's grandfather said in a loud cry
She answered;
'Grandfather sometimes it takes,
More courage to live than to die'
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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The Beginning of the Armadilloes
I've never sailed the Amazon,
I've never reached Brazil;
But the Don and Magdalena,
They can go there when they will!
Yes, weekly from Southampton
Great steamers, white and gold,
Go rolling down to Rio
(Roll down--roll down to Rio!).
And I'd like to roll to Rio
Some day before I'm old!
I've never seen a Jaguar,
Nor yet an Armadill--
He's dilloing in his armour,
And I s'pose I never will,
Unless I go to Rio
These wonders to behold--
Roll down--roll down to Rio--
[...] Read more
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Wanting More
There are days when I can hardly exhale
Emotions keep getting away like a sliding scale
I want to bathe in darkness dressed in red
The moon will make it look as if I had bled
At times nothing is quite right or enough
I'm craving abundance and extraordinary stuff
I want to partake in an eclipse hiding the light
Or watch the blue illuminations of a polar night
After sunset I wish to swim in algal bloom
Get married to a lunar rainbow as my groom
I want to converse with the goddess Venus
Meet Albert Einstein because he is a great genius
I want to understand the mysteries of the Kabbalah
Speak every language and drink sweet Marsala
Dance with Dionysus and learn from the wise Athena
Voice my questions about the life of Mary Magdalena
[...] Read more
poem by Kristina Louisa Carr
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The Fable Of Jesus
The Fable of Jesus
Jesus was skeptical of his own tribe, as a trainee carpenter he was
lousy couldn’t even make a simple bookshelf, they kidded him for that.
Jesus took umbrage and criticized the roman clinging priests.
He took to hanging out with a group of radicals of the day and since
he was good with words he soon became their leader.
There were a few groupies circling around his association, like Magdalena,
but they were for sexual enjoyment and not taken seriously.
Being admired by his flock Jesus thought he could take on the church and
the roman establishment, like when he chased money lenders out of
the temple. He was wrong. When they mocked him and crowded him
a king, he thought the people would come to save him.
Crucified, but women came to his rescue, healed his wounds and
sent him to France, where he took the name of Pierre.
He and his mistress, the despised tart Magdalene, had seven children
and he ended his days as a much respected goldsmith.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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