Ancient recipients of instant news probably couldn't do very much about it, for instance. Xerxes would still need three months to get his army together, and he might not get home for years.
quote by Peter Singer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dimaratos
His subject, 'The Character of Dimaratos',
which Porphyry proposed to him in conversation
was outlined by the young sophist as follows
(he planned to develop it rhetorically later):
'First a courtier of King Dareios,
and after that of King Xerxes,
now with Xerxes and his army,
at last Dimaratos will be vindicated.
He'd been treated very unjustly.
He was definitely Ariston's son, but his enemies
bribed the oracle brazenly.
And it wasn't enough that they deprived him of his kingship,
but when he finally gave in and decided
to live quietly as a private citizen,
they had to insult him even in front of the people,
they had to humiliate him publicly at the festival.
As a result, he serves Xerxes assiduously.
Along with the great Persian army,
he'll make it back to Sparta too;
and once he's king again, how quickly
he'll throw him out, how thoroughly
he'll shame that schemer Leotychidis.
So now he spends his days full of anxiety,
advising the Persians, explaining
what they should do to conquer Greece.
Much worrying, much thinking, and for this reason
Dimaratos finds his days so burdensome;
much worrying, much thinking, and for this reason
Dimaratos can't find a moment's joy
because what he's feeling can't be called joy
(it isn't; he won't admit it;
how can he call it joy? his distress couldn't be greater)
now things make it quite clear to him
that it's the Greeks who are going to win.'
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
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The mother and the artist
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of wonderfully emollient freshness; every
unfurling instant of impregnably magnificent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of spellbindingly undefeated innocence; every
unfurling instant of symbiotically pristine existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of timelessly unconquerable truth; every unfurling
instant of bounteously magnanimous existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unfathomably unfettered creativity; every
unfurling instant of timelessly burgeoning existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of royally triumphant resplendence; every
unfurling instant of unconquerably majestic existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of eternally exhilarating vivaciousness; every
unfurling instant of redolently insuperable existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unbelievably ameliorating optimism; every
unfurling instant of marvelously benign existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of brilliantly liberated camaraderie; every
unfurling instant of iridescently inscrutable existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unshakably virgin righteousness; every
unfurling instant of beautifully untainted existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of uninhibitedly heavenly frolic; every unfurling
instant of tantalizingly sensuous existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of compassionately humanitarian friendship; every
unfurling instant of magically mitigating existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of miraculously everlasting freshness; every
unfurling instant of invincibly coalescing existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of pricelessly ubiquitous oneness; every unfurling
instant of robustly blessed existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unbreakably Omnipotent desire; every unfurling
instant of victoriously effulgent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unceasingly reinvigorating fantasy; every
unfurling minute of poignantly charismatic existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of insurmountably intrepid enchantment; every
unfurling minute of rhapsodically unhindered existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of Omnisciently tranquil serenity; every unfurling
instant of endlessly bestowing existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of perpetually fragrant breath; every unfurling
instant of Omnipresently benevolent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of Immortally ardent love; every unfurling instant
of limitlessly fructifying existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of fantastically alleviating poetry; every
unfurling instant of boundlessly splendid existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of fabulously effervescent tanginess; every
unfurling instant of spiritually uplifting existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of unlimitedly enlightening Sunshine; every
unfurling instant of infallibly luminescent existence,
A mother might bear just a single child in 9 months; but an artist blossoms
into an infinite children of immaculately godly melody; every unfurling
instant of amiably melanging existence,
Because. And Only Because. A Mother is; has and shall for times immemorial
remain the Greatest Sculptor of every organism on this astoundingly
multiplying Universe; A Mother is the Greatest Artist….
poem by Nikhil Parekh
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Come On Home
Dark clouds are comin' like an army
Soon the sky will open up and disarm me
You will go just like you've gone before
One sad soldier off to war, enemies that only you can see.
Dishes stacked, the table cleared
It's always like the scene of the last supper here
You speak so cryptically that's not news to me
The flood is here it will carry you
And I've got work to do.
Come on home, the team you're hitched to has a mind of its own
But it's just the forces of your past you've fought before
Come back here and shut the door
I'm stacking sandbags against the river of your troubles.
There is fire there is lust
Some will trade it all for someone they could trust
There's a bag of silver for a box of nails
It's so simple the betrayal
Though it's known to change the world and what's to come.
Just come on home, the team you're hitched to has a mind of its own
But it's just the forces of your past you've fought before
Don't you recognize them anymore
I'm stacking sandbags against the river of your troubles.
There's the given and the expected
I count my blessings while I eye what I've neglected
Is this for better is this for worse
You're all jammed up and the dam's about to burst.
I hear the owl in the night
I realize that some things never are made right
By some will we string together here
Days to months and months to years
What if everything we have adds up to nothing.
Come on home, the team you're hitched to has a mind of its own
But it's just the forces of your past you've fought before
Come back here and shut the door
I'm stacking sandbags against the river of your troubles.
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forever—it composed of Nows
624
Forever—it composed of Nows—
'Tis not a different time—
Except for Infiniteness—
And Latitude of Home—
From this—experienced Here—
Remove the Dates—to These—
Let Months dissolve in further Months—
And Years—exhale in Years—
Without Debate—or Pause—
Or Celebrated Days—
No different Our Years would be
From Anno Domini's—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Have I said enough?
Nothing more to reflect and nothing more to say,
Enough and no more; did I cover it all completely?
Days may roll over into months, and months into years,
Impervious yet, never the need to say anything more on this...
Alas! Everything doesn’t happen at once; else, what could Time mean to any one,
An instalment in reality is what we get through in each instance of Time and no more,
As of today, what I know is what I assume; and that undoubtedly will mature some more tomorrow,
Today, I had hoped to have said enough to seal my lips forever; but will my retirement stick through?
poem by Ram Josyula
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I can only point out a curious fact. Year after year the Nobel Awards bring a moment of happiness not only to the recipients, not only to colleagues and friends of the recipients, but even to strangers.
quote by Alfred Day Hershey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Never awake me when you have good news to announce, because with good news nothing presses but when you have bad news, arouse me immediately, for then there is not an instant to be lost.
quote by Napoleon Bonaparte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Good News
Something to begin with
That's easy said than done
You'll see me rolling home
But I don't understand why
Still there's nothing at all
Time is on my side
But we mustn't let our disappointment show
But I will, and you will go on
All I need is some good news (some good news)
All I need is some good news (just some good news)
To put me on my feet (to put me on my feet)
To put me at my ease (at my ease)
All I need is some good news (all I need is some good news)
All I need is some good news (some good news)
To put me at my ease (to put me at my ease)
All I need is some good news
All I need is some good news (just gimme me some good news)
All I need is some good news (some good news)
To put me at my ease (to put me at my ease)
To put me on my feet (on my feet, on my feet)
All I need is some good news (all I need is some good news)
All I need is some good news (all I need is some good news)
All I need is some good news
All I need is some good news (all I need is good news)
To put me on my ease (to put me at my ease)
To put me on my feet (on my feet, on my feet)
All I need is some good news (good news)
All I need is some good news (some good news)
All I need is some good news (good news)
All I need is some good news
[Repeat to fade
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Introductions, that is, belong to the masterpieces and classics of the world, to the great and ancient and accepted things; and I am here introducing a short, small story of my own which appeared in The Evening News about ten months ago.
quote by Arthur Machen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I joined the Army and was sent to the MIT radiation laboratory after a few months of introduction to electromagnetic wave theory in a special course, given for Army personnel at the University of Chicago.
quote by Jack Steinberger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mrs. Ward
On friday afternoon at three o'clock
A passing lady looked into a shop
Her eyes lit up as this the sign she read
Recruiting office, that is what it said
Exacitedly she stepped inside to see
How her sons would fair if they were militry
The man in charge to her was very sweet
And said, "please sign here on this little sheet"
But when she got home her mind grew many fears
The message from the soldiers in the war rang in her ears
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
At six o'clock the lads came home from work
She told them what she'd done, they went beserk
We'll have to go to war and fight and die
And mrs. ward she wiped a tear from her eye
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
Don't put your boys in the army mrs. ward
You know they'll only waste away, oh oh
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This is War
The desert sun beats down on you
Sweat drips from every pore
March along the small town streets
This is it; this is war
Scan the rooftops and alleyways
Now and then, kick down some doors
Pray it's not the last one you do
This his it; this is war
A gunshot rings out in the distance
Take your aim as you hit the floor
Return fire and stay alive
This is it; this is war
A letter comes in your name
With news from home your spirit soars
The pages bring you only grief
This is it; this is war
For months and months you've gone without
Your spirit's broken, your body's sore
Still you stand and carry on
This is it; this is war
You've made it through, the mission's done
Now you stand outside your door
You're a stranger in your own home
There you are: a casualty of war
poem by Joseph A. Solis
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The Analogous
everything has
an analogy
for instance these hands
with fingers
are they not rivers and creeks
a source and
tributaries?
for instance this body
this temple
where my soul rests
this eye
this window of the house
the sun
the eye of the earth
a friend of the stars
the wonders of our longings
for instance
the silence
a dash in our talk
a space of our doubts
many more
for instance you and me
two hands in prayer
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Move On
She purposed me before 2.5 years
I said yes and all I have now is tears.
6 months later she told me she has a boyfriend
I said 'you loved me', 'when did I' she said.
It was time to move on so I went for new babe
Talked, laughed and spend lot of time with them.
Whenever I was with them, I only remember you
I missed you, but they were sticking with me like glue.
Some purposed me and I purposed some
I had only loved you so I left all of them.
I couldn't leave you so return to you with shame.
But still you were thinking only his name.
I had tried for 2 years to move on
I couldn't so told myself, c'mon
Why should I? Till now I have been loving her
And I will love her even if it is nothing for.
poem by Sushanta Rokka
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The War Against the Tide.
The brave kingdom of blood and swords,
Was doomed to fail,
Goblins marched,
Cavalry vibrating the land with its mere walk,
The giant Xerxes was on his way to enslave Sparta,
Spartans.........
300 greatest warriors led by our King Leonidas marched up the Hell's Gate,
Swords shined, shields were ready for engraving the assaults, and the spears ready to Majesty Sparta,
Persians came far and wide,
Our King, the bravest knight,
Led the wall of Phalanx with spear and shield,
The freedom; from the paradoxical God was the yield,
The 300s fought till their corpses fell down,
They still never did knelt for the Xerxes clown,
King Leonidas and his 300 died in glory,
Shattering and quelling the mighty Goblin's story,
Now again that wolf did pick his eye upon,
Every Spartan was prepared for battle on the brutal dawn,
Xerxes feared his end was near,
He new how 300 lethal swords did the talking,
Hell awaited Xerxes...
As the Goblin Destruction was accomplishing.
poem by Vikrant Jog
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Calendar
The winds couldn't blow it
The storm couldn't uproot it
Rain couldn't drench it
Sun couldn't bake it
Fire couldn't burn it
Despair couldn't strike it.
It remained on the wall
Little faded but neat
Unruffled by the rolling years-
January 1961…
The Road starts here!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Still Don' t Find Home?
Close your eyes
Take a deep breath
Still don’t find your home?
Travel around the globe
Sit in nowhere street
Still don’t get your journey home?
Stuck in the coffee corner
Look into crossing human
Still you long for another home?
Have a pack of wonderful work
With all flowers float over you
Still couldn’t find your paradise home?
Hug your lover
Cry your sorrow
Still couldn’t name your own home?
Release your pride
Make it to be simple
Still don’t want to go home?
Write a long note
Do a different course
Still looking for something wrong?
Go on your boring daily
With all kids laugh around you
Still couldn’t see your lovely home?
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Around the corner
I wont tell you the stories he has told me,
or the reason why for weeks and months
he couldn't sleep.
About the walk around the corner,
he kept walking round that corner,
walking round that corner
for days and months and weeks.
That isn't my story to tell you, only his;
but I can tell you that he walks around
that corner through his days
and through his weeks.
I can tell you that he marched them home
leading from the front,
right down through the Guildhall
to the sound of thudding drum.
I can tell you that he marched all those
young boys home.
All of them, but one.
poem by Diana Rosser
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War
It took nine months to make you,
hard labour to give you breath,
sixteen years to watch you grow
until you left the nest.
Then they took you
In their army,
sent you off to war
and on one dark and filthy night
it took one shot, ten seconds
for them to take your life.
poem by Ruth Walters
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Army Dreamers
B.f.p.o.*
Army dreamers.
Mammys hero.
B.f.p.o.
Mammys hero.
Our little army boy
Is coming home from b.f.p.o.
Ive a bunch of purple flowers
To decorate a mammys hero.
Mourning in the aerodrome,
The weather warmer, he is colder.
Four men in uniform
To carry home my little soldier.
What could he do?
Should have been a rock star.
But he didnt have the money for a guitar.
What could he do?
Should have been a politician.
But he never had a proper education.
What could he do?
Should have been a father.
But he never even made it to his twenties.
What a waste --
Army dreamers.
Ooh, what a waste of
Army dreamers.
Tears oer a tin box.
Oh, jesus christ, he wasnt to know,
Like a chicken with a fox,
He couldnt win the war with ego.
Give the kid the pick of pips,
And give him all your stripes and ribbons.
Now hes sitting in his hole,
He might as well have buttons and bows.
What could he do?
Should have been a rock star.
But he didnt have the money for a guitar.
What could he do?
Should have been a politician.
But he never had a proper education.
What could he do?
Should have been a father.
But he never even made it to his twenties.
What a waste --
Army dreamers.
Ooh, what a waste of
Army dreamers.
Ooh, what a waste of all that
Army dreamers,
Army dreamers,
Army dreamers, oh...
(b.f.p.o.)
Did-n-did-n-did-n-dum...
Army dreamers.
Did-n-did-n-did-n-dum...
(mammys hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
Army dreamers.
(mammys hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
No harm heroes.
(mammys hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
Army dreamers.
(mammys hero.)
(b.f.p.o.)
No harm heroes.
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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