I'm from all over the Northeast.
quote by Jim Coleman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Age of Northeast Asia is fast approaching.
quote by Moo-hyum Roh
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Most of the important composers in our country are clustered in the Northeast.
quote by Carlisle Floyd
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Elvis was the only man from Northeast Mississippi who could shake his hips and still be loved by rednecks, cops, and hippies.
quote by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wanted my children to have the same exposure to the water I had. My strongest memories of Northeast Harbor are going in a small Whaler with my dad, looking for osprey.
quote by Parker Stevenson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Surroundings-4
Resolved
Congested mind out
In the concrete street housed full
'Where is this breeze pure? '
'Gone to retreat from northeast'
Said the rippling leaves shh..ing
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Unification is one thing, and stability in Northeast Asia is another thing.
quote by Kim Dae Jung
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We're quickly moving to the point where we will have no military bases in the Northeast, and this undermines support for the military. We are a nation of citizen soldiers.
quote by Rob Simmons
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A few scattered accounts, collected and combined together, may lead us to two certain conclusions: 1. That all the American Indians are one kind of people; 2. That they are the same as the people in the northeast of Asia.
quote by Ezra Stiles
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East Asia has prospered since the end of the Vietnam War, and Northeast Asia has prospered since the end of the Korean War in a way that seems unimaginable when you think of the history of the first half of the century.
quote by William Kirby
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Everybodys Talkin
(fred neil)
Everybodys talkin at me
I dont hear a word their sayin
Only the echos of my mind
People stop and stare
I cant see their faces
Only the shadows of their eyes
Im goin where the sun keeps shinin
Through the pourin rain
Goin where the weather suits my clothes
Bankin off of the northeast winds
Sailin on summer breeze
And skippin over the ocean like a stone
Im goin where the sun keeps shinin
Through the pourin rain
Goin where the weather suits my clothes
Bankin off of the northeast winds
Sailin on summer breeze
And skippin over the ocean like a stone
Everybodys talkin at me
Cant hear a word their sayin
Only the echos of my mind
I wont let you leave my love behind
No I wont let you leave
I wont let you leave my love behind
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Thunderstorm
The rainclouds loom over the town
Like a cold, grayish wet blanket
That soon will unleash and rain down
its wrathful torrent in buckets.
I’ve seen this many times before-
This quietude before the storm-
A preface to what is in store:
An incredible thunderstorm.
Behold! The tempest has begun.
Wind is blowing from the northeast
Lightning bolts on the horizon
The odor of ozone increased
And as though it were timed, thunder
Brought rain as I watched in wonder.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Bellevue Academy
All the time I am asked...
Where it was that I had been educated?
Before I can part my lips,
I am told I speak like one with intelligence!
Of course immediately I am amused.
And I listen to the list of schools mentioned:
'You live in Connecticut?
Oh, you must have gone to Yale?
Or Wesleyan?
Or UConn?
But then again...
Harvard is close by as well! '
I got my initial training at Bellevue Academy.
Then at Arsenal Prep.
And at Northeast on Westland.
'Reeeeeaaaalllyy?
They must be exclusive!
I have never heard of them.'
They no longer exist!
But yes...
They were quite prestigious.
And I am not the only alumni,
To have been blessed by the teachings...
Or the discipline received.
Unfortunately,
These institutions are gone.
But not the achievements of the people.
They are all over the place...
Dropping just a 'hint' of their greatness!
'Where did this take place again! '
Hartford!
'That's what I thought!
Harvard...right? '
Whatever!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Hurricane Sandy Nov 5th,2012
HURRICANE SANDY Nov 5th,2012
By
James Bredin
The northeast coast just got hit by hurricane Sandy at night,
And New York City just got one hell of an awful fright,
Houses, subways and taxis flooded and in distress,
Hospitals vacated without power and all on TV and in the press.
Many houses burned to the ground in New Jersey and power gone,
Many relatives drowned and we can't tell what's going on,
An extremely sad affair with the subway closed down,
And gas stations out of gas and can't get up or downtown.
And all this in the middle of a presidential election,
In an area that truly needs lots of protection,
I think we need to build some dykes in case it happens again,
And the subway has to have a proper working drain.
Nov 5th,2012
poem by James Bredin
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Kokomo
Mmmmmmm
In a small fishing village
Northeast of guam
Sits a fine young chap
Holding hands with his mom
As the fish swim by
So does joe
For his body is in guam
But his mind is in kokomo
Kokomo, indiana
Kokomo, indiana
Mmmmmmmm
I long to be
Inside my home
Where the rafters are thick
With mens cologne
Mens cologne
For if I were a tree
I know where I would grow
But my body is in guam
My mind is in kokomo
Kokomo, indiana
Kokomo, indiana
Mmmmmmmm
Its a large swimming pool
That will light up at night
With cigarette girl
And groom dressed in white
Dressed in white
As the organ plays a song
The crowd doesnt know
For their bodies are in guam
But their minds are in kokomo.
Kokomo, indiana
Kokomo, indiana
song performed by by John Prine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oysters And Pearls
Lindbergh left Long Island in 1927
Thumbed his nose at gravity
And climbed into the heavens.
When he returned to earth that night everything changed,
For the pilot and the planet, everything was rearranged.
We're a pretty mixed up bunch
Of crazy human beans
It's written on our rocket ships
And in early cave wall scenes.
How does it happen,
How do we know,
Who sits and watches
Who does the show?
[Chorus:]
Some people love to lead
And some refuse to dance.
Some play it safely, other take a chance.
Still it's all a mystery
This place we call the world
Where most live as oysters
While some become pearls.
Elvis was the only man from Northeast Mississippi
Who could shake his hips and still be loved by rednecks, cops and hippies.
It's something more than DNA that tells us who we are
It's method and it's magic, we are of the stars.
[Chorus]
Some never fade away, some crash and burn
Some make the world go round, other watch it turn.
Still it's all a mystery
This place we call the world.
Most are fine as oysters
While some become pearls.
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring and All
By the road to the contagious hospital
under the surge of the blue
mottled clouds driven from the
northeast -- a cold wind. Beyond, the
waste of broad, muddy fields
brown with dried weeds, standing and fallen
patches of standing water
the scattering of tall trees
All along the road the reddish
purplish, forked, upstanding, twiggy
stuff of bushes and small trees
with dead, brown leaves under them
leafless vines --
Lifeless in appearance, sluggish
dazed spring approaches --
They enter the new world naked,
cold, uncertain of all
save that they enter. All about them
the cold, familiar wind --
Now the grass, tomorrow
the stiff curl of wildcarrot leaf
One by one objects are defined --
It quickens: clarity, outline of leaf
But now the stark dignity of
entrance -- Still, the profound change
has come upon them: rooted they
grip down and begin to awaken
poem by William Carlos Williams
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Krishnakali
In the village they call her the dark girl
but to me she is the flower Krishnakali
On a cloudy day in a field
I saw the dark girl's dark gazelle-eyes.
She had no covering on her head,
her loose hair had fallen on her back.
Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelleeyes.
Two black cows were lowing,
as it grew dark under the heavy clouds.
So with anxious, hurried steps,
the dark girl came from her hut.
Raising her eyebrows toward the sky,
she listened a moment to the clouds' rumble.
Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.
A gust of the east wind
rippled the rice plants.
I was standing by a ridge,
alone in the field.
Whether or not she looked at me
Is known only to us two.
Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.
This how the Kohldark cloud
rises in the northeast in Jaistha;
the soft dark shadow
descends on the Tamal grove in Asharh;
and sudden delight floods the heart
in the night of Sravan.
Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.
To me she is the flower Krishnakali,
whatever she may be called by others.
In a field in Maynapara village
I saw the dark girl's dark gazelle-eyes.
She did not cover her head,
not having the time to feel embarrassed.
Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.
poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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North Infinity Street
The alarm clocks tick in a thousand furnished rooms,
tick and are wound for a thousand separate dooms;
all down both sides of North Infinity Street
you hear that contrapuntal pawnshop beat.
Hall bedrooms, attic rooms, where the gas-ring sings,
rooms in the basement where the loud doorbell rings;
carpeted or bare, by the rail at the head of the stair,
the curtains drawn, a mirror, a bed, and a chair,
in midnight darkness, when the last footfall creaks,
in northeast rain, when the broken window leaks,
at dawn, to the sound of dishes, the kitchen steam,
at dusk, when the muted radio croons a dream,
there, amid combs and the waiting shoes and socks,
and the bathrobes hung in closets, tick the clocks:
on the chest of drawers, on the table beside the bed,
facing the pillow, facing the recumbent head:
yes, from here to forever, from here to never,
one long sidereal curve of ticking fever,
all down both sides of North Infinity Street
you hear that contrapuntal pawnshop beat.
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken
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Analyze Broader Regional Implications
of escalating Syrian crisis
status position of pawn religious...
minorities will become an
increasingly important
volatile issue as ethnic Druze
build underground bunkers
in rugged southwest mountains
Druze; Christian; sideline minorities;
not siding with revolt opposition
play cat mouse waiting games
Christian leaders in Syria...
condemned the Arab League's
political suspension of Syria
League's organization imposition
of sanctions on Assad's regime?
enter yet another chess piece
Syrian foreign Kurds remain
divided many still suspicious
of the Sunni Arabs in the SNC
their ties to decades enemy Turkey...
Assad continues attempt to exploit
past present Kurdish Turkish conflicts
Assad reaches out to Kurds in Syria's
northeast therefore view an internal end
to Syria's conflict in near future as
unlikely a full-blown sectarian
civil war looms on present horizons
could be avoided
if an aspiring Alawite...
general overthrows
Assad by means
of a coup military
seems unlikely?
risk indicators uncertain
radar images no Alawite signs
of traitor aggressive plots?
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Youngstown
Here in northeast ohio
Back in eighteen-o-threejames and dan heaton
Found the ore that was linin yellow creek
They built a blast furnacehere along the shor
And they made the cannonballs
That helped the union win the war
Here in youngstown
Here in youngstown
My sweet jenny Im sinkin down
Here darlin in youngstown
Well my daddy worked the furnaces
Kept em hotter than hell
I come home from nam worked my way to scarfer
A job thatd suit the devil as well
Taconite coke and limestone
Fed my children and made my pay
Them smokestacks reachin like the arms of god
Into a beautiful sky of soot and clay
Here in youngstown
Here in youngstown
My sweet jenny Im sinkin down
Here darlin in youngstown
Well my daddy come on the ohio works
When he come home from world war two
Now the yards just scrap and rubble
He said them big boys did what hitler couldnt do.
These mills they built the tanks and bombs
That won this countrys wars
We sent our sons to korea and vietnam
Now were wondering what they were dyin for
Here in youngstown
Here in youngstown
My sweet jenny Im sinkin down
Here darlinin youngstown
Here in youngstown
From the monongahela valley
To the mesabi iron range
To the coal mines of appalachia
The storys always the same
700 tons of metal a day
Now sir you tell me the worlds changed
Once I made you rich enough
Rich enough to forget my name
And youngstown
And youngstown
My sweet jenny Im sinkin down
Here darlin in youngstown
When I die I dont want no part of heaven
I would not do heavens work well
I pray the devil comes and takes me
To stand in the fiery furnaces of hell
song performed by by Bruce Springsteen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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