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The potter and the dancer
A potter made pots,
which are there after the potter has worked.
A dancer did dance,
which is not there after the dancer has worked.
God is a dancer,
Who dances from where things vibrate.
God isn't a potter
To create things and be away from it.
13.07.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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So Harry Potter came in and it is nice that I have kids of the right age. I took them to London and they walked around the set and met Harry Potter and that is thrilling.
quote by Gary Oldman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I am a really big Harry Potter fan and I've seen all the sets, I've lived Harry Potter and I don't think it's destroyed the books at all, I think it's really spot on.
quote by Rupert Grint
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A man who envies our family is a man who needs help.
quote by Yeardley Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Be clay
Don’t be half-hearted about this –
be clay.
You know all about clay –
be clay.
Humble, submissive, reverent –
awaiting the Potter’s hands.
Enjoy that humility, that surrender –
feel already so near God.
Now the wheel begins to turn –
the Potter is here!
Feel His hands – the more you feel them,
the more you know the love in them.
Now you’re being shaped:
turned on the wheel like a dervish turns,
you’re becoming like that tall column of stillness,
rising from the centre of the whirling skirt;
still; in the memory of the Potter’s hands;
you recognise yourself who waited for you.
*
[leaning on the poems of Hafiz]
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bones
Said Mr. Smith, “I really cannot
Tell you, Dr. Jones—
The most peculiar pain I’m in—
I think it’s in my bones.”
Said Dr. Jones, “Oh, Mr. Smith,
That’s nothing. Without doubt
We have a simple cure for that;
It is to take them out.”
He laid forthwith poor Mr. Smith
Close-clamped upon the table,
And, cold as stone, took out his bones
As fast as he was able.
Smith said, “Thank you, thank you, thank you,”
And wished him a good-day;
And with his parcel ‘neath his arm
He slowly moved away.
poem by Walter de la Mare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Zero Bars (Mr. Smith)
my name is Smith
your silence is my trade
my name is Smith
here in this bar you fade out
time heals nothing
it merely rearranges our memory
in zero bars
even time no longer seems willing to try
please look around
empty faces that never quite die
don't be surprised
their bodies move by habit, look in their eyes
nothing is real
if you break down and cry they won't even stare
nobody feels
it's far too risky to admit that you care
my name is Smith
your silence is my trade
my name is Smith
here in this bar you fade out
Gary Numan, "Zero Bars (Mr. Smith)", _T_u_b_e_w_a_y _A_r_m_y (Beggars Banquet/ATCO 1978)
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Antichrist, or the Reunion of Christendom: An Ode
Are they clinging to their crosses,
F. E. Smith,
Where the Breton boat-fleet tosses,
Are they, Smith?
Do they, fasting, trembling, bleeding,
Wait the news from this our city?
Groaning "That's the Second Reading!"
Hissing "There is still Committee!"
If the voice of Cecil falters,
If McKenna's point has pith,
Do they tremble for their altars?
Do they, Smith?
Russian peasants round their pope
Huddled, Smith,
Hear about it all, I hope,
Don't they, Smith?
In the mountain hamlets clothing
Peaks beyond Caucasian pales,
Where Establishment means nothing
And they never heard of Wales,
Do they read it all in Hansard -
With a crib to read it with -
"Welsh Tithes: Dr. Clifford answered."
Really, Smith?
In the lands where Christians were,
F. E. Smith,
In the little lands laid bare,
Smith, O Smith!
Where the Turkish bands are busy
And the Tory name is blessed
Since they hailed the Cross of Dizzy
On the banners from the West!
Men don't think it half so hard if
Islam burns their kin and kith,
Since a curate lives in Cardiff
Saved by Smith.
It would greatly, I must own,
Soothe me, Smith!
If you left this theme alone,
Holy Smith!
For your legal cause or civil
You fight well and get your fee;
For your God or dream or devil
You will answer, not to me.
Talk about the pews and steeples
And the cash that goes therewith!
But the souls of Christian peoples...
Chuck it, Smith!
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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song of Father Gabriele Amorth
The Daily Mail, UK and Herald Sun (Australia) report on how
Father Gabriele Amroth of the Vatican teaches that yoga and
Harry Potter and the ‘oriental religions’ are
the works of the Devil...the following poem expresses my outrage
at such stupidity and parochialism that still exists
amongst some groups of Europeans even today in their relations
with the East
O yoga yoga
baby baby
sings Father Gabriele Amorth
in the Italian town of Terni
O yoga yoga
no go no go
to yoga yoga
baby baby
all you innocents
and pure
all blessed
and destined for Heaven
no go to yoga yoga
yoga yoga
yogurt is fine
sugar in your yogurt is fine
strawberry and apple
in your yogurt is fine
so eat eat your
yogurt yogurt yogurt
but yoga yoga
O yoga yoga
no go no go no go baby
baby baby
sings Father Gabriele Amorth
in the Italian town of Terni
and also no go to Harry Potter
baby baby baby
no go no go
no go to yoga no to yoga
and no go no go
to Harry Potter
baby baby baby
now say after me:
“yoga yoga yoga
baa baa baa
bad bad bad”
and say after me:
“Harry Potter Harry Potter
moo moo moo
bad bad bad”
O baby baby baby
at our next conference
I’ll teach you
how the Dragon is bad
and how the Chinese got it all wrong
all these centuries
with their Chinese Dragon, Dragon, Dragon
but that’s for next time
next time next time
baby baby baby
for now just repeat after me
your most reverend
Father Gabriele Amorth
in the Italian town of Terni:
O yoga yoga
no go no go
to yoga yoga
baby baby
And say after me
all ye faithful
all ye blessed:
“Harry Potter Harry Potter
moo moo moo
bad bad bad”
poem by Raj Arumugam
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Antichrist, or the Reunion of Christendom: An Ode
Are they clinging to their crosses,
F. E. Smith,
Where the Breton boat-fleet tosses,
Are they, Smith?
Do they, fasting, trembling, bleeding,
Wait the news from this our city?
Groaning "That's the Second Reading!"
Hissing "There is still Committee!"
If the voice of Cecil falters,
If McKenna's point has pith,
Do they tremble for their altars?
Do they, Smith?
Russian peasants round their pope
Huddled, Smith,
Hear about it all, I hope,
Don't they, Smith?
In the mountain hamlets clothing
Peaks beyond Caucasian pales,
Where Establishment means nothing
And they never heard of Wales,
Do they read it all in Hansard --
With a crib to read it with --
"Welsh Tithes: Dr. Clifford answered."
Really, Smith?
In the lands where Christians were,
F. E. Smith,
In the little lands laid bare,
Smith, O Smith!
Where the Turkish bands are busy
And the Tory name is blessed
Since they hailed the Cross of Dizzy
On the banners from the West!
Men don't think it half so hard if
Islam burns their kin and kith,
Since a curate lives in Cardiff
Saved by Smith.
It would greatly, I must own,
Soothe me, Smith!
If you left this theme alone,
Holy Smith!
For your legal cause or civil
You fight well and get your fee;
For your God or dream or devil
You will answer, not to me.
Talk about the pews and steeples
And the cash that goes therewith!
But the souls of Christian peoples...
Chuck it, Smith!
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Zero Bars
My name is smith
Your silence is my trade
My name is smith
Here in this bar you fade out
Time heals nothing
It merely rearranges our memory
In zero bars
Even time no longer seems willing to try
Please look around
Empty faces that never quite die
Don't be surprised
Their bodies move by habit, look in their eyes
Nothing is real
If you break down and cry they won't even stare
Nobody feels
It's far too risky to admit that you care
My name is smith
Your silence is my trade
My name is smith
Here in this bar you fade out
song performed by by Gary Numan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In the spirit of Rumi - 29
O Caliphs of the world
who have executed so many saints
for daring to say that ‘I am God within myself’ –
If you yourselves are not God within yourselves,
then who are you to pronounce punishment
upon any other man?
And now, every man who carries
a sword, a dagger, bomb or gun
would think himself a Caliph,
messenger of the Lord…
how wrong they are.
Yet Allah, the great, the merciful beyond our understanding,
allows them to live on after their victims’ death - gives
a little time to know themselves
as the wheel of the potter, Destiny, turns for them,
before they return to Him
as clay to be reshaped in the Potter’s hands
or dry and crumble into dust.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Potter is jealous of potter, and craftsman of craftsman; and the poor have a grudge against the poor, and the poet against the poet.
Bessie Smith
Bessie was more than a friend of mine
We shared the good times and the bad
Well many years has since passed me by
I still recall the best thing I ever had
Now I'm going down the road to see Bessie
Oh see her soon
I'm just going down the road to see Bessie Smith
When I get there I wondering what she'll do
Now all the crazy things I had to try
Well I tried them all and then some
But if you're lucky one day you will find out
Where it is that you're really coming from
Now I'm going down the road to see Bessie
Oh see her soon
I'm just going down the road to see Bessie Smith
When I get there I wondering what she'll do
Now in my day I've made some foolish moves
But back then I didn't worry about a thing
Now and again I still wonder to myself
Was it the sweet love or the way that she could sing
I'm just going down the road to see Bessie Smith
When I get there I wondering what she'll do
I'm just going down the road to see Bessie Smith
When I get there I wondering what she'll do
song performed by by Norah Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I had to focus and create a character in Bagger Vance, not just do my 'Will Smith' thing and get paid.
quote by Will Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If I owe Smith ten dollars and God forgives me, that doesn't pay Smith.
quote by Robert Green Ingersoll
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Invitation To Tea (A Dark Comedy) Part 3
(It is advisable you read parts 1 and 2 first)
Grace watched him for a few minutes, and then moved to the back of the shop. “He is going to come around at six tonight. I do hop Mr Potter like him.”
“I’m sure he will. Grace.”
“I can’t help feeling bit concerned after Mr Armad.”
“It was the curry Mr Armad insisted on making. Revolting stuff. I felt queasy as Mr Potter afterwards. Anyway Mr Potter always prefers Englishmen, even when Aunty had him staying with her.”
Charles checked his watch, and then knocked the door. The lights appeared in the shop and the silhouette of one of the sisters grew large in the glass panel of the door. Charlotte smiled.
“Do come in Mr Latimer.”
Charles entered and followed Charlotte through to the back of the shop. As they entered the room, Grace turned from the oven with a tray of freshly baked scones. She smiled.
“Please have a seat, Mr Latimer. Tea is ready.”
“Call me Charles, Mr Latimer seems so formal.” he replied as he sat where Charlotte directed. “I hope you don’t mind me asking but where is Mr Potter going to sit? ”
“Unfortunately, Mr Potter prefers to eat alone. You will meet him later. I have told him you are coming and h I looking forward to meeting you.” Grace replied and brought forward the tray if scones. “Please help yourself Charles.”
Charles waited until the sisters were seated before starting.
“I think these are your best scones, Grace.”
“Thank you Charlotte.”
“I will second that. These are best scones I’ve ever tasted. I hope that Mr Potter will appreciate them.”
“I’m sure he will.” Grace replied and watched with satisfaction as the scones disappeared from the plate.
“Another cup of tea Charles? ” Charlotte asked holding the teapot poised.
“Thank you.”
As Charlotte poured out the tea, Grace collected the dishes from the table. “While Charlotte and I do the washing up you sit and enjoy your tea.”
“What about Mr Potter? ”
“We’ll collect his dishes later.”
“Charles drank his tea slowly. He wondered how he could thank the two women. He would have to think of a way later.
Grace and Charlotte smiled and nodded to one another. Mr Potter would enjoy Charles. They dried their hands and placed the dishes into the cupboard.
“I see you have almost drunk your tea. I presume you would like to see Mr Potter now? ”
“Yes please.”
“If you will follow us.”
Charles followed the sisters out of the room and into the garden.
“Unfortunately we have only one pair of stairs leading to the basement.”
“Basement? ”
“Yes, Mr Potter is not one for coming into the house. He is a bit eccentric.”
“Oh.”
2Grace dear, would you put the light on? You will have to watch the bottom step Charles. It can be a bit slippery at times.”
“Aren’t you ladies coming down? ”
“No. Mr Potter does not like women that much. “She said and smiled. “I will close the door behind you.”
Charles descended the stairs. A peculiar stench rose around him. Just as he put his foot on the bottom step, it tilted and he fell forward.
Charlotte heard the splash followed by the thrashing of water. She closed the storm door and called to Grace to switch the light off. Grace joined her there a few moments later.
“How did Mr Potter greet Charles? ”
“His usually noisy self. I do not understand why crocodiles have to make so much noise when they eat. At least with Charles he won’t get indigestion”
8-9 September 1987
poem by David Harris
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One of my major competitors was Harold Smith. Smith beat me in 1977. I was loafing during that competition.
quote by Edwin Moses
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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After Earth
Will Smith, Jaden Smith, Isabelle Fuhrman, Zoe Kravitz, Sacha Dhawan
by Stephen Gaghan from After Earth (2013)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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