The bandits in the mountain are easily subjected, but it is difficult to subject the bandits in my heart.
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That Which Plagues the History Bandits
The History Bandits swinging...
Swinging in History roll.
Up comes one leader,
Ousted or assassinated by another.
The complaints of many
Feeding the avarice of one,
Makes the humdrum into history.
An idealist Wilson, a vengeful Clemenceau or
A prudent Lloyd George...who wishes to know?
The inspiring evil Hitler or politically capitalistic Americans
Or the fearless bloody Communists...
Mould the mounds of history.
A guilty country pleading innocence,
A Rasputinian government brought down by Rasputin
Or a prince who fashioned the legends of the creatures that
Plague the human existence.
What makes History?
Of what use is History?
The questions that plague the History Bandits.
Take up the sword of ink,
Oil the wheels that turn in your head,
And ponder anew on the questions that
Makes you wonder.
Go forth the History Bandits...
Go forth, and claim your rightful path.
poem by Cheryl Jacob
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The conquerors are kings; the defeated are bandits.
bandits on highway English
have hijacked
the haiku
haiku by Raj Arumugam
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Benson, you are so free of the ravages of intelligence
quote by Time Bandits
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Critics! Those cut-throat bandits in the paths of fame.
quote by Robert Burns
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I foresee that man will resign himself each day to new abominations, and soon that only bandits and soldiers will be left.
quote by Jorge Luis Borges
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The world perishes not from bandits and fires, but from hatred, hostility, and all these petty squabbles.
quote by Anton Chekhov
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Further, a document names and identifies the actual Red Light Bandits (plural), because in fact there are two.
quote by Caryl Chessman
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It's been interesting how kids have had hardly any problems watching it, but adults have more trouble. This happened way back even with Jabberwocky and Time Bandits.
quote by Terry Gilliam
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Essentialness
Subjected to the essentialness of things.
There is a mood that dictates,
The essentialness of things.
When the importance of 'it' is given...
And how much of a priority is placed.
But should we wait in debate,
To enhance an effectiveness?
Or chase it with impatience,
If there is a mood that dictates.
Subjected to the essentialness of things.
And when it comes...
It brings its own taste!
A certainty not to go to waste.
And maybe subject to change!
Replacing what has been debated.
Subjected to the essentialness of things.
Like something one has eaten...
Does not meet a later craving,
One had envisioned to devour...
And let satiate without it becoming sour.
Subjected to the essentialness of things.
When discussed in the hour,
Of exchange.
Or at a later date.
Arriving when it does...
And not considered to be late!
To deliver an anticipated freshness.
Subjected to the essentialness of things.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In fact, the bandits steal the drinks and assistance provided along the course. Worse, they cross the finish line and mess up the scoring of legitimate runners.
quote by Joe Henderson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I would like to stress here that a lasting peace in the Chechen republic and so-called peace talks with the bandits are not the same thing, and I would ask everyone to make no mistake about that.
quote by Boris Yeltsin
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The Chip also reduces the damage done by bandits. They still steal drinks and cheers along the course, but no longer scramble the paying runners' results. No entry fee, no Chip, no time or place.
quote by Joe Henderson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Subject On This Love
The subject on this love is an object,
And the object is very sound and beautiful;
The subject on this love is a valley,
And the valley is very quiet and lovely;
The subject on this love is a fruit,
And the fruit is very sound and attractive;
The subject on this love is a mountain,
And the mountain is very high and lonely;
The subject on this love is a river,
And the river is very smooth and slippery;
The subject on this love is a seed,
And the seed is very fruitful and sweet;
The subject on this love is your milk,
And your milk is very thick and sweet;
The subject on this love is your lake,
And your lake is very fresh and aromantic;
The subject on this love is a garden,
And the garden is very thick and bushy;
The subject on this love is a room,
And that room is very romantic and peaceful;
The subject on this love is your apples,
And your apples are very passinate and emotional;
The subject on this love is a tree,
And that tree is very tall and bushy;
But the peace of this subject brings is like,
Two lovers swimming across the blue sea of love and blues.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Solid Love
We got a break
Unbelievable
We got a break
Right in the middle of this
Hollywood heartache
We got this solid love
All around the town
Good hearts are going under
Love bandits con and plunder
Let nobody put asunder this solid love . . .
We got a chance
Hot dog darlin
We got a chance
No more, no more
Fly-by-night romance
We got this solid love
Love has always made me
Feel so uneasy
I couldnt relax and just be me
More like some strange disease
Than this solid love . . .
Tested and blessed, darlin
Im gonna give you my very best
Youre my hope
Youre my happiness
You
Open my heart you do
You open my heart
You do
Yes you do
We got a break
Unbelievable
We got a break
Right in the middle of this
Hollywood heartache
We got this solid love
All around the town
Good hearts are going under
Love bandits con and plunder
Let nobody put asunder this solid love . . .
We got a chance
Hot dog darlin
We got a chance
No more, no more
Fly-by-night romance
We got this solid love
Love has always made me
Feel so uneasy
I couldnt relax and just be me
More like some strange disease
Than this solid love . . .
Tested and blessed, darlin
Im gonna give you my very best
You are my happiness
You
Open my heart up you do
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bees
You voluble,
Velvety
Vehement fellows
That play on your
Flying and
Musical cellos,
All goldenly
Girdled you
Senerade clover,
Each artist in
Bass but a
Bibulous rover!
You passionate,
Powdery
Pastoral bandits,
Who gave you your
Roaming and
Rollicking mandates?
Come out of my
Foxglove; come
Out of my roses
You bees with the
Plushy and
Plausible noses!
poem by Norman Rowland Gale
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The Affiliated
Pubs and clubs and opening hours
Was all he knew
One arm bandits and affiliated members
Women taboo
Had his own tankard
And the evening standard
And a trophy from darts
That he kept over the bar
Hed nothing to fear
He had his beer
B-e-e-r!
Then came her
Through the blur
Then came she
Made him see
He saw the light before hed finished his pint
She saved him from the biggest crime in life
They hated her
They said youll never see him again
Got a mortgage round his neck
And eight screaming kids
But his seats always here if he wants it
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm Explaining a Few Things
You are going to ask: and where are the lilacs?
and the poppy-petalled metaphysics?
and the rain repeatedly spattering
its words and drilling them full
of apertures and birds?
I'll tell you all the news.
I lived in a suburb,
a suburb of Madrid, with bells,
and clocks, and trees.
From there you could look out
over Castille's dry face:
a leather ocean.
My house was called
the house of flowers, because in every cranny
geraniums burst: it was
a good-looking house
with its dogs and children.
Remember, Raul?
Eh, Rafel? Federico, do you remember
from under the ground
my balconies on which
the light of June drowned flowers in your mouth?
Brother, my brother!
Everything
loud with big voices, the salt of merchandises,
pile-ups of palpitating bread,
the stalls of my suburb of Arguelles with its statue
like a drained inkwell in a swirl of hake:
oil flowed into spoons,
a deep baying
of feet and hands swelled in the streets,
metres, litres, the sharp
measure of life,
stacked-up fish,
the texture of roofs with a cold sun in which
the weather vane falters,
the fine, frenzied ivory of potatoes,
wave on wave of tomatoes rolling down the sea.
And one morning all that was burning,
one morning the bonfires
leapt out of the earth
devouring human beings --
and from then on fire,
gunpowder from then on,
and from then on blood.
Bandits with planes and Moors,
bandits with finger-rings and duchesses,
bandits with black friars spattering blessings
came through the sky to kill children
and the blood of children ran through the streets
without fuss, like children's blood.
Jackals that the jackals would despise,
stones that the dry thistle would bite on and spit out,
vipers that the vipers would abominate!
Face to face with you I have seen the blood
of Spain tower like a tide
to drown you in one wave
of pride and knives!
Treacherous
generals:
see my dead house,
look at broken Spain :
from every house burning metal flows
instead of flowers,
from every socket of Spain
Spain emerges
and from every dead child a rifle with eyes,
and from every crime bullets are born
which will one day find
the bull's eye of your hearts.
And you'll ask: why doesn't his poetry
speak of dreams and leaves
and the great volcanoes of his native land?
Come and see the blood in the streets.
Come and see
The blood in the streets.
Come and see the blood
In the streets!
poem by Pablo Neruda
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That's the most difficult issue for me... to find a subject that holds my interest long enough that I'm prepared to go to work and spend the time and energy to shoot the subject.
quote by Leonard Nimoy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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