The pope eats peasants, gulps gentlemen, and voids monks.
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May waters drench peasants and lords or gentlemen, as many of them as it encounters.
Luther was guilty of two great crimes - he struck the Pope in his crown, and the monks in their belly.
quote by Desiderius Erasmus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gulps and emptying
Gulps of water after thirst,
And emptying the bladder after a hold
Give you through their action
Same amount of relief.
Gulps and emptying are the way of life,
And in them we get relief, which is pleasure.
28.03.2006
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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May seventeenth
Wergeland's statue on May seventeenth
Saw the procession. And as its rear-guard,
Slow marching masses,
Strong men, and women with flower-decked presence;
Come now the peasants, come now the peasants.
Österdal's forest's magnificent chieftain
Bore the old banner. Soon as we see it
Blood-red uplifted,
Greet it the thousands in thought of its story:
That is our glory, that is our glory!
Never that lion bore crown that was foreign,
Never that cloth was by Dannebrog cloven.
I saw the
future
,
When with that banner by Wergeland's column
Peasants stood solemn, peasants stood solemn.
Most of our loss in the times that have vanished,
Most of our victories, most of our longing,
Most that is vital:
Deeds of the past and the future's bold daring
Peasants are bearing, peasants are bearing.
Sorely they suffered for sins once committed,
But they arise now. Here in the Storting
Stalwart they prove it,
All, as they come from our land's every region,
Peasants Norwegian, peasants Norwegian.
Hold what they won, with a will to go farther;
Whole we must have independence and honor!
All of us know it:
Wergeland's summer bears soon its best flower,-
Power in peasants, peasants in power.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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He who eats cherries with gentlemen risks getting the pips in his nose.
Emotional Food Chain
Anger eats Balanced
Balanced eats Confusion
Confusion eats Delight
Delight eats Exasperation
Exasperation eats Forgiveness
Forgiveness eats Grief
Grief eats Humor
Humor eats Isolation
Isolation eats Joy
Joy eats Knottiness
Knottiness eats Love
Love eats Moodiness
Moodiness eats Nicety
Nicety eats Outrage
Outrage eats Peace
Peace eats Quick-temperament
Quick-temperament eats Righteousness
Righteousness eats Stupidity
Stupidity eats Trust
Trust eats Unhappiness
Unhappiness eats Vitality
Vitality eats Weariness
Weariness eats X-citement
X-citement eats Yawn
Yawn eats Zest
Zest eats Anger
poem by Champs Ulysses Cabinatan
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Feel The Girl
[Intro Timbaland (Ms. Jaded)]
Ladies and gentlemen
Ladies and gentlemen
(Ms. Jade) Lay lay lay ladies and gentlemen
(Ms. Jade) Ladies and gentlemen
(Ms. Jade) Ladies and gentlemen
(Ms. Jade) Lay ladies and gentlemen
(Ms. Jade) Skrip skirt skrip lay lay
(Ms. Jade) La la la lay
Earr err err
[Verse 1 Ms. Jade]
Ms. Jade's the name comin' to ruin the game
Bringin' the thunder and rain
song performed by by Ms. Jade from Girl Interrupted
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet 23
Be aware gentlemen I dare say
For all those sugar coated lies
Ladies will have it their way
No matter what they can be sly
Be aware all gentlemen kind
The secrets are not in her kiss
Such confusion you will find
You'll never be sure of this
Be aware gentlemen or regret
Those gentle words and woes
Never once show her neglect
For such pain you will know
Be aware gentlemen and wise
Ladies come with many surprise
poem by Suelynn Walters
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Krishna's Meal
Kanha eats in Yasoda's lap.
some he eats, some he drops,
as the ladies of Nandgaon watch,
some he eats and some he puts
in Nanda's mouth,
this joy is beyound recount.
some he eats, some gives to gopas,
butter in his hands, curd in doniyas.
The joy of Yasoda
the three worlds cannot account.
the meal is over, Kanha washes,
for Sur the left-overs count.
poem by Sant Surdas
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Rust eats iron
Rust eats iron.
Separation from wife
eats husband
Contempt by kith and kins
And serving evil master
Eats body by burning silently
Corroding heart and soul body
from within.
Rust eats iron.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Commanders Of The Faithful
The Pope he is a happy man,
His Palace is the Vatican,
And there he sits and drains his can:
The Pope he is a happy man.
I often say when I'm at home,
I'd like to be the Pope of Rome.
And then there's Sultan Saladin,
That Turkish Soldan full of sin;
He has a hundred wives at least,
By which his pleasure is increased:
I've often wished, I hope no sin,
That I were Sultan Saladin.
But no, the Pope no wife may choose,
And so I would not wear his shoes;
No wine may drink the proud Paynim,
And so I'd rather not be him:
My wife, my wine, I love, I hope,
And would be neither Turk nor Pope.
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Come Get Me
And as a special treat this evening
I have asked America's foremost young poet
to read his latest poem for us
[scratching by DJ Premier:]
"ladies and gentlemen.."
"Na-Na-Na-Nastradamus"
"Everybody watch him"
"ladies and gentlemen.."
"Na-Na-Na-Nastradamus"
"We-we-we came a long way"
"ladies and gentlemen.."
"Na-Na-Na-Nastradamus"
"Everybody watch him"
"ladies and gentlemen.."
"Na-Na-Na-Nastradamus"
[Nas]
Yo..
Yo.. yo..
Power and crime
song performed by by NAS from Nastradamus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It often happens that I wake up at night and begin to think about a serious problem and decide I must tell the Pope about it. Then I wake up completely and remember that I am the Pope.
quote by Pope John XXIII
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Myanmar - Air of Freedom
shackled without chains
again the chants of monks
again the chants of monks
aung san looks over to the hazy horizon
for days when she would breathe the air of freedom
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Huntsmen
Three jolly gentlemen,
In coats of red,
Rode their horses
Up to bed.
Three jolly gentlemen
Snored till morn,
Their horses champing
The golden corn.
Three jolly gentlemen
At break of day,
Came clitter-clatter down the stairs
And galloped away.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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Death, be not proud!
Death, don’t think that you are the great.
Can you defy the suicides?
You are slave to many masters.
The king orders punishment.
Chance and accident take their toll.
Murders and war cause many deaths.
When a snake bites or a beast gulps,
Death occur; the pest too eats up.
They all happen not at your wills.
Fate kills the youth and poor maidens.
Death, don’t boast that you are the great.
Be calm; you are slave to the God.
Of course I fear you, not the God,
For you are merciless unlike the God..
[Inspired by the poem with the same title by John Donne 1572-1631
29.10.2008
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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So from the mould
66
So from the mould
Scarlet and Gold
Many a Bulb will rise—
Hidden away, cunningly, From sagacious eyes.
So from Cocoon
Many a Worm
Leap so Highland gay,
Peasants like me,
Peasants like Thee
Gaze perplexedly!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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An Ancient to Ancients
Where once we danced, where once we sang,
Gentlemen,
The floors are sunken, cobwebs hang,
And cracks creep; worms have fed upon
The doors. Yea, sprightlier times were then
Than now, with harps and tabrets gone,
Gentlemen!
Where once we rowed, where once we sailed,
Gentlemen,
And damsels took the tiller, veiled
Against too strong a stare (God wot
Their fancy, then or anywhen!)
Upon that shore we are clean forgot,
Gentlemen!
We have lost somewhat of that, afar and near,
Gentlemen,
The thinning of our ranks each year
Affords a hint we are nigh undone,
That shall not be ever again
The marked of many, loved of one,
Gentlemen.
In dance the polka hit our wish,
Gentlemen,
The paced quadrille, the spry schottische,
"Sir Roger."--And in opera spheres
The "Girl" (the famed "Bohemian"),
And "Trovatore" held the ears,
Gentlemen.
This season's paintings do not please,
Gentlemen
Like Etty, Mulready, Maclise;
Throbbing romance had waned and wanned;
No wizard wields the witching pen
Of Bulwer, Scott, Dumas, and Sand,
Gentlemen.
The bower we shrined to Tennyson,
Gentlemen,
Is roof-wrecked; damps there drip upon
Sagged seats, the creeper-nails are rust,
The spider is sole denizen;
Even she who voiced those rhymes is dust,
Gentlemen!
We who met sunrise sanguine-souled,
Gentlemen,
Are wearing weary. We are old;
These younger press; we feel our rout
Is imminent to Aïdes' den,--
That evening shades are stretching out,
Gentlemen!
And yet, though ours be failing frames,
Gentlemen,
So were some others' history names,
Who trode their track light-limbed and fast
As these youth, and not alien
From enterprise, to their long last,
Gentlemen.
Sophocles, Plato, Socrates,
Gentlemen,
Pythagoras, Thucydides,
Herodotus, and Homer,--yea,
Clement, Augustin, Origen,
Burnt brightlier towards their setting-day,
Gentlemen.
And ye, red-lipped and smooth-browed; list,
Gentlemen;
Much is there waits you we have missed;
Much lore we leave you worth the knowing,
Much, much has lain outside our ken;
Nay, rush not: time serves: we are going,
Gentlemen.
poem by Thomas Hardy
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There were gentlemen and there were seamen in the navy of Charles the Second. But the seamen were not gentlemen; and the gentlemen were not seamen.
quote by Thomas B. Macaulay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once Pope Under Jevais Resolvd To Adventure
Once Pope under Jevais resolvd to adventure
& from a Good Poet Pope turnd an ill painter
So from a Good Painter Charles Jervais we hope
May turn an ill Poet by living with Pope
Then Each may perform the true parts of a friend
While each will have something to blame or commend
poem by Thomas Parnell
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