Talking about bulls is altogether different from being in the arena.
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Bull Fighting
Bullfighting
Early morning on the flatland between Portugal and Seville a cockerel crews,
its hoarse wakeup call carries for miles. Vaqueros are already on the grassland
separating bulls form a herd; the bulls are five years old and have been chosen
for the bullfight. Within a week the selected bulls will be dead, slaughtered on
an arena of sawdust and sand, they have been allowed to roam free for years.
Most animals only live a few years, mostly in a pen, and never see grassland
before they are killed. How can meat eaters demonstrate, call for the abolition
of bullfighting? This sport, the only one, where an animal has a chance to kill its
assassin. I’m on a bus heading for Seville to see bullfighting, yes, I do admire bull
fighting; if lucky I might see one of the chosen bulls kills the toreador.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fundamental Of Liar Chapter CXVIII: I’m Just Talking To Myself
I’m not talking to you
I’m not talking to anyone
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not grumbling
I’m not cursing
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not insane
I’m not in trance
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not mocking
I’m not threatening
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not sharing secret
I’m not hiding something
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not mad
I’m not in rage
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not jealous
I’m not envious
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not afraid
I’m not in pessimism thought
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not whining
I’m not complaining
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not depressed
I’m not in foul mood
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not blaming
I’m not accusing
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not in denial
I’m not in confusion
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not informing
I’m not warning
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not against you
I’m not rebelling
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not help you
I’m not assist you
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not running some plot
I’m not in a mischief plan
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not in great grudge
I’m not in revenge mind
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not suspicious
I’m not curious
I’m just talking to myself
I’m not saying sorry
I’m not saying thank you
I’m just talking to myself
poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Am Not A 'Socialite
Some have come into this arena,
With eyes bright.
And seeking to delight in relationships.
The invitation I responded to,
Was to enter into the arena as a poet who writes.
And others in the arena believe I should socialize.
But this I make clearly understood.
I am not a 'socialite' like many who are 'socialists'.
I am without pretense a 'writer'.
Not a socialist pretending not to be!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Talking of bulls is not the same as being in the bullring.
Talking about bulls is not the same thing as being in the bullring.
Talking about bulls is not the same as facing them in the ring.
Talkin Talkin
Talking, talking
It doesnt really matter
If you know my name
It doesnt really matter
If you see things the same
As I do
It doesnt even matter
If Im tied and tense
It doesnt even matter
If Im still making sense
Over you
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Cos Im only talking, talking
Talking, talking
It doesnt matter
What the people
All around you say
Be careful how
You listen
They dont know you
The way that I do
And if you wanna
Talk about it baby
Thats alright
Its better if I say it
Than to sit down
And write it to you
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Cos Im only talking, talking
It can be that
Youre here with me
When Im standing out
On my own
The words of love
That you gage
When we were alone
It doesnt matter
If you want to
Rock and roll all night
I know youre gonna
Be there when the
Feeling is right
The feeling is right
The feeling is right
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
You know Im just
Talking, talking, talking, talking
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The breeding programs for the bulls have improved significantly. The bulls are at a much higher caliber.
quote by Chris LeDoux
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I have never regarded politics as the arena of morals. It is the arena of interest.
quote by Aneurin Bevan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A cowboy from down Pecos way,
On the bulls he just couldn't stay.
So he bought super glue,
Then said proudly I knew,
I could stick to the bulls one fine day.
quote by by Juan Olivarez (16 March 2011)
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The fact that we don't keep repeating tests in the same arena is not because the probability of the hypothesis showing its falsity in other arenas goes up after it has passed tests in one arena.
quote by Robert Nozick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I've turned down a lot of arena dates because I've done the big-arena thing. Now, I want to do something where people can feel me and I can feel them.
quote by Whitney Houston
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here I Am To Worship - Chris Tomlin
Light of the world,
You stepped down into darkness,
Opened my eyes,
Let me see.
Beauty that made
This heart adore You
Hope of a life
Spent with You.
(Chorus)
Here I am to worship,
Here I am to bow down,
Here I am to say that You're my God.
You're altogether lovely,
Altogether worthy,
Altogether wonderful to me.
King of all days,
Oh, so highly exalted,
Glorious in
Heaven above.
Humbly, You came,
To the earth You created,
All for love's sake,
Became poor.
(Chorus)
I'll never know
How much it cost,
To see my sin
Upon that cross. (x 4)
(Chorus) x 3
poem by Rebecca Ryan
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Talking 'Bout Yo Momma
1, 2, 3, 4. talking 'bout your mom... talking 'bout your mom... talking 'bout your mom... talking 'bout your mom... she's a whore bitch, gutter slut. likes to shove me up her butt. drives a pickle, wearing combat boots. while farting, she'll pick me up and give me a ride and drop me in front of the show. oh no, talking 'bout your mom... talking 'bout your mom... talking 'bout your mom... talking 'bout your mom...
song performed by by NOFX
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Create a world in which these things do or do not exist, or in which they are extended in some way. Test reality against this fiction. The reader will recognize the world that you're talking about, even though it may be another one altogether.
quote by Theodore Sturgeon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here I Am To Worship
Light of the World
You stepped down into darkness
Opened my eyes
Let me see
Beauty that made
This heart adore You
Hope of a life
Spent with You
Chorus:
Here I am to worship
Here I am to bow down
Here I am to say that You're my God
You're altogether lovely
Altogether worthy
Altogether wonderful to me
King of all days
Oh, so highly exalted
Glorious in Heaven above
Humbly You came
To the earth You created
All for love's sake became poor
Chorus
I'll never know how much it cost
To see my sin upon that cross
I'll never know how much it cost
To see my sin upon that cross
Chorus X2
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Here I Am To Worship
Light of the world
You stepped down into darkness
Opened my eyes let mesee
Beauty that made this heart adore You
Hope of a life spent with You
Here I am to worship
Here I am to bow down
Here I am to say that You're my God
You're altogether lovely
Altogether worthy
Altogether wonderful to me
King of all days
O so highly exalted
Glorious in Heaven above
Humbly You came to the earth You created
All for love's sake became poor
I'll never know how much it cost
To see my sin upon the cross
...Worship You
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
I worship You for who You are
I worship You
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
I worship You for who You are
song performed by by Israel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The World Cup, A Common Stage
The World Cup is a common stage
It is an arena for winners
and an arena for losers
Without the losers, there is no
proclamation of winners.
The winners may rejoice
to have scored more
But their victory only happens
because there are those who
have scored less.
As a common arena in life's
test of strength and wits,
the winners can rejoice
but still without forgetting
that they win because others lose.
Those who lose do no lose
their great value in that common stage.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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Keeping The Hundred Healthy Bulls
in keeping a hundred healthy bulls
inside my chest
i keep my fences high and strong
but for how long?
the hundred healthy bulls
are kicking their hoofs
and hungrily breathing and dreaming
and soon
will be running
for how long?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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How do you
How do you,
Asks the chief of police,
Patrol a city
Where the butcher shops
Are guarded by vultures;
Where bulls get pregnant,
Cows are barren,
And calves give milk
Three times a day;
Where mice are boatmen
And tomcats the boats
They row;
Where frogs keep snakes
As watchdogs,
And jackals
Go after lions?
Does anyone know
What I’m talking about?
Says Kabir.