Harvard was a kind of luxurious afternoon.
quote by Lincoln Kirstein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Harvard Crimson
Harvard..
crimson with the blood of hundreds of millions of animals
dead in their underground vivisection labs
Harvard crimson, as the US university with the largest endowment,
invested in war, animal and fish flesh, factory farms, killer drugs
Harvard crimson, with the dollars it has stolen from the US poor.
Harvard which lost prion discoverer Stanley Prusiner, who was tired
of the university's animal flesh investments putting his research on
the back burner.
Harvard economists, destabilizers of the Russian economy
Harvard, driving the poor out of their homes, paying $4000 in the 70's
for homes in surrounding neighborhoods
Harvard, way behind Oberlin in ending exclusion of women and African
Americans
***************** ****************
Boston is the vivisection capital of the US, and Harvard receives more
vivisection dollars than any other university.
poem by O. Anna Niemus
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Afternoon Tea
Tea time wont be the same without my donna
At night I lie awake and dream of donna
I think about that small cafe
Thats where we used to meet each day
And then we used to sit a while
And drink our afternoon tea
Ill take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
If you take it with me (afternoon tea)
You take as long as you like
cause I like you, girl
I take sugar with tea (afternoon tea)
You take milk if you please (afternoon tea)
Like you talking to me
Because you ease my mind
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Tea time still aint the same without my donna
At night I lie awake and dream of donna
I went to our cafe one day
They said that donna walked away
Youd think at least she might have stayed
To drink her afternoon tea
Ill take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
If you take it with me (afternoon tea)
You take as long as you like
cause I like you, girl
I take afternoon tea (afternoon tea)
Every day of the week (afternoon tea)
Please come along if you like
Because I like you, girl
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba (afternoon tea)
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I won't say there aren't any Harvard graduates who have never asserted a superior attitude. But they have done so to our great embarrassment and in no way represent the Harvard I know.
quote by Derek Bethune
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This is a man who graduated summa cum laude from Harvard University in three years, editor of the Harvard Law Review, argued 39 cases before the Supreme Court.
quote by Rod Parsley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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An Afternoon Poem Is Rare
AN AFTERNOON POEM IS RARE
An Afternoon Poem is rare-
Afternoon is long after the first light-
Afternoon is a time of heaviness and quiet
A time of rest-
Afternoon is after the morning work has been done-
Afternoon is the weight of the day-
Afternoon is the time after the day has lost its freshness-
Still there must be afternoon poems-
There must be a beauty that emerges
In its own way,
Perhaps from where lovers meet
Perhaps from ‘ripeness is all’
Perhaps from the anticipation of evening
Perhaps from winter where it is the warmest time of day.
There must be afternoon poems-
Poems that celebrate all that warmth can bring-
Poems of rest poems of sleep-
Poems of waiting to believe
That in the evening
A new day and a new world
Will make life easier again.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Biasin
Biasin, basin, sin, in, as, bin, ban!
Hotel Biasin;
Louis and Louise,
To be in love;
And, were met at the Hotel.
The kiss,
Hot, . cold!
Way in and way out;
Like Harvard man and Harvard woman.
Amazing!
The atmosphere;
Come, welcome!
Efficient, sufficient;
And, with a compromise.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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We've had risk assessments performed by Harvard University, which said that even if we did have a small number of cases in this country that the likelihood of it spreading or getting into any kind of human health problem is very, very small.
quote by Ann Veneman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paris Went to Hilton, Uhm, Harvard
Paris, Paris you finally made it to Harvard.
Let’s party and you’ll cry if you want to,
50 Cent can be your own personal muse, Urban Poet, a poetic sage,
When he said to you, Paris, “Get the F$$k off of my stage.”
(see observation It’s My Party)
Was it because you found the solution the world’s problems?
Had you discovered how to extract in formation from DNA within seconds?
Had you discovered the link between gravity and the electromagnetic spectrum?
Or had you brokered peace between the Israeli and the Palestinian Nations,
That would end violence?
But you declared “Harvard is Hot”,
Amazing you can put three words together two of which had the same starting letter.
You are a GENIUS!
NOT! ! ! ! !
You are epitome, that means you are the highest, of a joke that Harvard Lampoon honored,
You were dishonored and rightfully so,
I hope you will peel off your blinders to hopefully see,
You are wasting your life and providing fodder for the paparazzi.
Your grandfather wanted nothing to do with you.
Paris when you’re out money, when you had fallen from the top,
Maybe I’ll find your Lampoon Award in a pawn shop.
(2-10-2008)
poem by Joe Rosochacki
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When Tree Branches Rub Against The Roof
When tree branches rub against the roof
the small bulbul runs past
during the afternoon hour
to the pool where it dives and rolls,
stretches out wings and shoot them out straight,
walking boldly up and down
stretches out wings,
stretches out wings
as he walks to and thro.
When tree branches rub against the roof
a light breeze blows,
while the sun burns hot as fire
and the neighbouring child calls
when the afternoon comes with its peace,
with thoughts from the past
when the afternoon comes,
when the afternoon comes
and sometimes I forget the present.
When tree branches rub against the roof
birds peck around everywhere
while moments are lingering
as leaves blow to the ground,
and I think of God as if He is here,
while the shades bring a kind of tranquillity
and I think of God
and I think of God
and find some deeper meaning to life.
poem by Gert Strydom
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When the wind started blowing in the afternoon
When the wind started blowing in the afternoon,
some African red-knobbed coots rose in a screaming row,
while the sun hanged over the water red like fire
and the twilight only lasted moments
while they flew past with slapping wings,
when the wind started blowing in the afternoon,
I felt a light breeze blowing against my cheek,
there was serenity and peace that came to me
while the sun hanged over the water red like fire,
there was a kind of bliss in nature
when dappled Egyptian goose also tried to avoid me,
when the wind started blowing in the afternoon,
I was caught by the sheer beauty,
I heard the call of birds cutting through the reeds,
while the sun hanged over the water red like fire
while the sky was darker and no more azure,
while ducks glide magically through the water,
when the wind started blowing in the afternoon,
the sun hanged over the water red like fire.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Tuesday Afternoon
Tuesday afternoon.
I'm just beginning to see,
Now I'm on my way.
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.
Something calls to me.
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why.
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.
I'm looking at myself, reflections of my mind.
It's just the kind of day to leave myself behind.
So gently swaying through the fairy-land of love,
If you could just come with me and see the beauty of
Tuesday afternoon.
Tuesday afternoon.
Tuesday afternoon.
I'm just beginning to see,
Now I'm on my way.
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.
Something calls to me.
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why.
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Forever Afternoon (Tuesday?) / Time To Get Away
Tuesday afternoon.
I'm just beginning to see,
Now I'm on my way.
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.
Something calls to me.
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why.
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.
I'm looking at myself, reflections of my mind.
It's just the kind of day to leave myself behind.
So gently swaying through the fairy-land of love,
If you could just come with me and see the beauty of
Tuesday afternoon.
Tuesday afternoon.
Tuesday afternoon.
I'm just beginning to see,
Now I'm on my way.
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.
Something calls to me.
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why.
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Afternoon: Forever Afternoon
Tuesday, afternoon,
I'm just beginning to see,
Now i'm on my way,
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.
Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why
Those gentle voices i hear
Explain it all with a sigh.
I'm looking at myself, reflections of my mind,
It's just the kind of day to leave myself behind,
So gently swaying thru the fairy-land of love,
If you'll just come with me and see the beauty of
Tuesday afternoon.
Tuesday afternoon.
Tuesday, afternoon,
I'm just beginning to see,
Now i'm on my way,
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.
Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why
Those gentle voices i hear
Explain it all with a sigh.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Afternoon: A. Forever Afternoon (Tuesday?) / B. (Evening) Time To Get Away
Tuesday, afternoon,
I'm just beginning to see,
Now I'm on my way,
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.
Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.
I'm looking at myself, reflections of my mind,
It's just the kind of day to leave myself behind,
So gently swaying thru the fairy-land of love,
If you'll just come with me and see the beauty of
Tuesday afternoon.
Tuesday afternoon.
Tuesday, afternoon,
I'm just beginning to see,
Now I'm on my way,
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.
Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Disco
every night is disco night
with you im living every moment for you
seeing things in a different way
of my god im thankful that youre leaving
is there something we can do, this afternoon
is there nothing left to say
oh your love, cautions you
you are something new
afternoon
ill make it up to somehow
im laughing and youre dancing like my mother
ill teach you to go off on me
shake, shake from the horror
mirror naked feeling hot
your radio is not store bought but stolen
another night is going out
its saturday and now youve got the fever
is there something we can do, this afternoon
is there nothing left to say
oh your love, cautions you
you are something new
afternoon
is there something we can do, this afternoon
is there nothing left to say
oh your love, warning you
and you are so beautiful
youll just have to do
is there nothing left to say
song performed by by Howie Day
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Friends
As pretty as a song
A song could ever be
Like Christmas on a river
Without a boat or Christmas tree
This afternoon with you was something like a letter
The kind that someone writes but never sends
And when you look at me
You remind me that someday it's gonna end
And when you pass on
I bet you miss your friends
As simple as a breeze
Tugging hard upon the sail
Been moving through these streets forever
From Istanbul to Amsterdam
This afternoon with you was something like a letter
The kind that someone writes but never sends
And when you look at me
You remind me that someday it's gonna end
And when you pass on
God, I bet you miss your friends
As pretty as a song
A song could ever be
Like Christmas on a river
Without a boat or Christmas tree
This afternoon with you was something like a letter
The kind that someone writes but never sends
And when you look at me
You remind me that someday it's gonna end
And when you pass on
God, I bet you miss your friends
Miss your friends
God, I bet you miss your friends
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Root Beer Float Afternoon
It was one of those
kind of afternoons
When ball games were heard
From open windows
And houses had porches
And porches had swings
Where voices murmured softly
Into velvet humidity
It was the most precious of things
In the most treasured of times
It was a root beer float…
Kind of afternoon
poem by David Whalen
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The Poem of the Afternoon
THE POEM OF THE AFTERNOON
The poem of the afternoon
Long and drawn out
Does not know why it is written
And what its true name is.
It does not ask or answer
Remember or remain
It simply appears
And disappears
As if its writing
Were yet
One more way of
Just being in the world
And passing its light.
The poem of the afternoon
Does not know why it is
Or why it should be
But now that it is here
It looks out at the trees
Through the sun of its pages
And prepares itself to be read and reread
As if someone somewhere
Searches and sees it.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Political Economy
'I beg you to note,' said a Man to a Goose,
As he plucked from her bosom the plumage all loose,
'That pillows and cushions of feathers and beds
As warm as maids' hearts and as soft as their heads,
Increase of life's comforts the general sum
Which raises the standard of living.' 'Come, come,'
The Goose said, impatiently, 'tell me or cease,
How that is of any advantage to geese.'
'What, what!' said the man-'you are very obtuse!
Consumption no profit to those who produce?
No good to accrue to Supply from a grand
Progressive expansion, all round, of Demand?
Luxurious habits no benefit bring
To those who purvey the luxurious thing?
Consider, I pray you, my friend, how the growth
Of luxury promises-' 'Promises,' quoth
The sufferer, 'what?-to what course is it pledged
To pay me for being so often defledged?'
'Accustomed'-this notion the plucker expressed
As he ripped out a handful of down from her breast
'To one kind of luxury, people soon yearn
For others and ever for others in turn;
And the man who to-night on your feathers will rest,
His mutton or bacon or beef to digest,
His hunger to-morrow will wish to assuage
By dining on goose with a dressing of sage.'
poem by Ambrose Bierce
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