And for all my rampant technological optimism, sometimes I think I'd be more comfortable if I were regarding these transcendental events from one thousand years remove... instead of twenty.
quote by Vernor Vinge
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This He Is Going to Fix
The breaking down and restructuring,
Can not be missed.
Not even if you still fantasizing.
A collapsing underneath us,
Has clearly begun.
If you don't believe that yet...
Forget about your agendas.
You best to get comfortable...
With the coming of a basicness.
And sadness and regret all around,
Will be seen and easily found.
And rampant will be those crazed into a rage.
And rampant will these minds snap quick.
And rampant...
Comes a higher consciousness,
Clearly splitting...
Those faithful from those of wickedness.
And rampant with those whose eyes dry quick!
When sudden wave of serenity...
Blesses them into bliss.
You'll see.
Rampant will God come to show...
This He is going to fix.
And rampant will those wicked folks,
Be shocked by the quickness of it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Twenty-nine Thousand Four Hundred Seven Sunsets
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
In the early days by my mother’s side,
Though she’d often tell me of the sun and of the sea,
I seldom watched, and never for long,
The slow dissolve,
The melt and plunge,
Now you see it, now you don’t-
So many sunsets lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
The years of my youth were marked by friends and sport,
Often whole days on the beach-
Raging winds and mammoth waves
Or a still, glass sea, not a cloud in the sky,
And every shade in between.
I rarely fathomed the myriad shapes and colors,
An ever-changing landscape-
So very many sunsets lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
The middle-aged years pinned me to my work;
Yet through a window from time to time,
Or on holiday, if I risked the break,
I’d notice how lovely a sunset could be-
So very many sunsets lost forever.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
At last, in these final days, each sunset is anticipated, craved.
Regardless the mood of the sea, it will receive the sun.
No matter the face of the sky, it will let go the same.
The sun itself, always churning, always burning,
Swells with new brilliance, new radiance and splendor
Each time it approaches the sea,
Then morphs into a molten pool on the sea’s surface
Before plunging from view-
Never more a sunset lost.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
Then one glorious day,
The day of my twenty-nine thousand four hundred and sixth sunset,
And I at my usual place along the shore,
Saw the sun rise out of the sea from where it had just set!
The sun rose back up into the sky, and
In the very next moment on the very same day, it set again.
I experienced my twenty-nine thousand four hundred and seventh sunset,
The second in one day!
Oh glorious day!
A sunset gained.
Twenty-nine thousand four hundred seven sunsets
With one same sun on the one same sea.
(In 2 Kings 20: 9-11 the Lord made the shadow go back 10 steps. Certainly, at that exact moment, somewhere in the world, someone saw the sun dissolve on the horizon and then rise again.)
When you play this game twenty years, go to bat ten-thousand times, and get three-thousand hits, do you know what that means? You've gone zero for seven-thousand.
The design of the God
Growth and generation for twenty years.
Health and reproduction for twenty years.
Breath and degeneration for twenty years.
Since then live sans passion, the God’s design.
20.11.2011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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O Do Not Forsake Me (Demo)
O, do not forsake me, my indolent friends
O, do not forsake me for you know I must spend
All my darkest hours talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
One thousand years old
Sure you think that's old
ONe thousand years old, but what do you know?
In my darkest hour I'm talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
Oh, some have forgotten the flower of speech
And walks through the garden where
I go to defent misbegotten notions while talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
One thousand years old
Sure, I'd say that's old
ONe thousand years old, but what do I know?
In your darkest hour, my indolent friends, we'll be one thousand years old
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O, Do Not Forsake Me
O, do not forsake me, my indolent friends
O, do not forsake me though you know I must spend
All my darkest hours talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
One thousand years old
Sure, you think thats old
One thousand years old
But what do you know?
In my darkest hour Im talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
Oh, some have forgotten the flower of speech
And walks through the garden where I go to defend
Misbegotten notions while talking like this
For I am one thousand years old
One thousand years old
Sure, Id say thats old
One thousand years old
But what do I know?
In your darkest hour, my indolent friends
Well be one thousand years old
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twenty years a child; twenty years running wild; twenty years a mature man -- and after that, praying.
Twenty years a child twenty years running wild twenty years a mature man-and after that, praying.
Twenty Years Hence
Twenty years hence my eyes may grow
If not quite dim, yet rather so,
Still yours from others they shall know
Twenty years hence.
Twenty years hence though it may hap
That I be called to take a nap
In a cool cell where thunderclap
Was never heard,
There breathe but o'er my arch of grass
A not too sadly sighed Alas,
And I shall catch, ere you can pass,
That winged word.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Ten Grey hairs and a silver one
I discovered my first grey hair
when I was Seventeen years old
It had to do with broken up my first relationship
I discovered my second grey hair
when I was Twenty years old
It had to do with the quarrels at home
I discovered my third grey hair
when I was Twenty-one years old
It had to do with searching for work
I discovered my fourth grey hair
when I was Twenty-three years old
It had to do with loosing my job
I discovered my fifth grey hair
when I was Twenty-five years old
It had to do with giving up my unborn child
I discovered my sixth grey hair
When I was Twenty-eight years old
It had to do with opening my pub
I discovered my seventh grey hair
When I was thirty years old
It had to do with giving birth to my daughter
I discovered my eight grey hair
When I was thirty –two years old
It had to do with the first day at the kinder garden school
I discovered my ninth grey hair
When I was thirty-four years old
It had to do with to find out that some thing was missing
I discovered my tenth grey hair
When I was thirty-five years old
It had to do with the fights between my sisters and mum
My one Silver hair I discovered lately
Has to do with you
Because I miss you so hard …
poem by Pascale Ost
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So now, thirty years, forty years later, I mean, I could find a whole orchestra of a thousand to put these things together in New York City alone. In those days, if I could scrape up twenty musicians to do this it was something extraordinary.
quote by Gunther Schuller
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We Americans are the best informed people on earth as to the events of the last twenty-four hours; we are the not the best informed as the events of the last sixty centuries.
quote by Will Durant
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Most of us spend too much time on the last twenty-four hours and too little on the last six thousand years.
quote by Will Durant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twenty Years Ago
It's been a long time since I walked
Through this old town
But oh how the memories start to flow
And there's the old movie house
They finally closed it down
You could find me there every Friday night
Twenty years ago.
I worked the counter at the drugstore down the street
But nobody's left there I would know
On Saturday mornings that's where
All my friends would meet
You'd be surprised to know what a dime would buy
Twenty years ago.
All my memories from those days come gather round me
What I'd give if they could take me back in time
It almost seems like yesterday
Where do the good times go?
Life was so much easier twenty years ago.
I guess I should stop by Mr. Johnson's hardware store
His only son was my friend Joe
But he joined the army back in 1964
How could we know he would never come back
Twenty years ago...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twenty Days
Twenty days are barely gone,
I was merry all the day.
Folly was my butt of scorn.
Now the fool myself I play.
Wit and learning ruled my head,
Logic and economy.
All the books I ever read
Taught me only vanity.
Most of all it moved my mirth
Womankind the world should rule.
Man, the lord of all the Earth!
He, forsooth, a woman's tool!
Cherry lip and glancing eye!
What were rosy cheeks to me?
Beauty's truth was but a lie--
Witness tomes of history!
Twenty days had barely run.
Twenty years they well might be.
All my wisdom was undone,
Reason bade good--night to me.
Her hair was of the red red gold,
Her blue eyes looked me through and through.
She was twenty--three years old,
I was twenty years and two.
Fortune, fame, I freely give,
Honour's self, if so she please,
Sweetly in her smile to live
Other twenty days like these.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Twenty Years
There are twenty years to go
Twenty ways to know
Who'll wear
Who'll wear the hat
There are twenty years to go
The best of all I hope
Enjoy the ride
The medicine show
Thems the breaks
For we designer fakes
We need to concentrate on more than meets the eye
There are twenty years to go
The faithful and the low
The best of starts, the broken heart, the stone
There are twenty years to go
The punch-drunk and the blow
The worst of starts, the mercy part, the foam
Thems the breaks
Before we designer fakes
We need to concentrate on more than meets the eye
Thems the breaks
Before we designer fakes
But it's you I take cos you're the truth, not I
There are twenty years to go
A golden age I know
But all will pass and end too fast you know
There are twenty years to go
And many friends I hope
Though some may hold the rose
Some hold the rope
That's the end - and that's the start of it
That's the whole - and that's the part of it
That's the high - and that's the heart of it
That's the long - and that's the short of it
That's the best - and that's the test in it
That's the doubt - the doubt, the trust in it
That's the sight - and that's the sound of it
That's the gift - and that's the trick in it
You're the truth, not I
You're the truth, not I
You're the truth, not I
You're the truth, not I
You're the truth, not I
You're the truth, not I
You're the truth, not I
You're the truth, not I
song performed by by Placebo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh Mummy, Oh Mummy
Oh Mummy, oh Mummy
where are you?
You were in your sarcophagus yesterday
but now you are gone.
Oh Mummy, oh Mummy
where may you be?
Has someone in the night
come in and stolen thee?
Oh Mummy, oh Mummy
I know you are two thousand years old
and just a box of bandages,
but about you, I care so.
I found you in that pyramid
amongst all your treasures
for the after life.
Oh Mummy, oh Mummy
there you are hiding away from me.
Hey, what are you doing?
Oooh Mummy stop doing that,
you are two thousand years old
and I am only twenty-three.
Oooh Mummy. Oooh Mummy
don’t stop now.
Oooh Mummy you are a sexy beast.
4 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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The God Of Fire
The God of fire
It took him twenty years
to write his novel.
Twenty refusals later
he gave the manuscript
to the fire which
greedily absorbed it.
A phone call from nowhere,
send us another novel.
It took twenty more years
to write a new book
and the god Agni
burnt his hands.
As a thank you.
Success at last he cried
to a man with a yellow helmet
carrying an axe.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Mystery is gone to the certainty of technological principles. So the real terror, the real aggression against life comes in the form of the pursuit of our technological happiness.
quote by Godfrey Reggio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There's probably a little greater case for pessimism than optimism. But I do not rule out optimism.