Nearly everything in life goes in threes and fours.
quote by Ninette de Valois
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Misfortunes always come in threes. These things always come in threes.
On Gay Wallpaper
The green-blue ground
is ruled with silver lines
to say the sun is shining
And on this moral sea
of grass or dreams lie flowers
or baskets of desires
Heaven knows what they are
between cerulean shapes
laid regularly round
Mat roses and tridentate
leaves of gold
threes, threes and threes
Three roses and three stems
the basket floating
standing in the horns of blue
Repeating to the ceiling
to the windows
where the day
Blows in
the scalloped curtains to
the sound of rain
poem by William Carlos Williams
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That Beat
(berry/buck/mills/stipe)
(that beat, that beat, that beat)
Eastern calls from way out wherever
Away I go, anchored in that beat
Thirsting for us too, threes a no man, but
(chorus)
Remember, call that beat
Remember, call that beat
Finger lead them up, crime to rape the beat
Thirsting for us too, threes a no man, but
(repeat chorus 2x)
Finger lead them up (up), crime to rape the beat
Thirsting for us too (too), threes a no man, but
(repeat chorus 2x)
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sergeant Darkness
Written by gerry beckley, 1977
Found on harbor, america live, and highway.
Thank the morning for bringing you
Hope you never turn your head and run
And thank the sun for shining, too
Hope the darkness never comes again
What it does to me
Isnt good to see
You say that fortune brought you
Sailin cross the sea
I dont believe you
I dont see how its true
I think my dreamin brought you here
And if I wake tomorrow will you still be near
Once a miser, twice a son
Threes a devil, fours a lot of fun
Fun for living one and all
Start a battle, whos the first to fall
Hope it isnt me
Have to wait and see
You say that fortune brought you
Sailin cross the sea
I dont believe you
I dont see how its true
I think my dreamin brought you here
If I wake tomorrow will you still be near
Should I live with rain and then the sky will clear
song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Soft Accent
In soft accents the language results,
From what you say and endeavor,
Leaving the wastes and treasures,
Feeling your own puzzle at the eyes.
I have to cooperate once the astonishment
Heartens the blood, as the blood is my residue.
I had meant to be pleasing to the eye,
I was sorely disappointed due to ill-health,
My reasons for living were reduced
And afterwards the garrison was a bundle of joy.
After supper the same day, we began in threes and fours
To decide the fate of our ancestors.
We looked agitated when the handkerchiefs were rinsed
And with water the ladies of the night mistook
Us for children.
I have trouble talking to this woman,
I have reappeared for the main question.
Give the brush to my hair,
And comb like I do,
This was another garment of desire.
I have possessed the fine jewelry,
Another garrison of guardians are afoot,
With their campaigns of reality,
And stupidity, and lust.
In softer ways known to men,
I might need the lady who dims the lights
And folds her belongings one day
To see me finish the way I do.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Sign On The Window
Sign on the window says lonely,
Sign on the door said no company allowed,
Sign on the street says y dont own me,
Sign on the porch says threes a crowd,
Sign on the porch says threes a crowd.
Her and her boyfriend went to california,
Her and her boyfriend done changed their tune.
My best friend said, now didn I warn ya,
Brighton girls are like the moon,
Brighton girls are like the moon.
Looks like a-nothing but rain . . .
Sure gonna be wet tonight on main street . . .
Hope that it dont sleet.
Build me a cabin in utah,
Marry me a wife, catch rainbow trout,
Have a bunch of kids who call me pa,
That must be what its all about,
That must be what its all about.
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One To One
Tried to call you yesterday
But you were at the monday club
Or a communist demonstration
Who cares
Youre going somewere everyday
Vegetarians against the klan
Every woman against every man
Never
One to one
Whats wrong
Whats wrong with one to one
Just once
Just me and you
cause one to one is real
And you cant hide, just feel
That threes a crowd
I agree with what you say
But I dont wanna wear a badge
I dont wanna wave a banner like you
Though I dont mind it if you do
Youre beautiful when you get mad
Or is that a sexist observation
Or
One to one
Whats wrong
Whats wrong with one to one
Just once
Just me and you
cause one to one is real
And you cant hide, just feel
That threes a crowd
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Most of all the other beautiful things in life come by twos and threes, by dozens and hundreds. Plenty of roses, stars, sunsets, rainbows, brothers and sisters, aunts and cousins, but only one mother in the whole world.
quote by Kate D. Wiggins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pair up in threes.
quote by Joe DiMaggio
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Twos and Threes
Relationships live or die
from the Threes and Twos;
You and I
may love our best;
your needs
my needs
may meld or clash;
but as long as we're
the Twos
we will fail;
and the relationship
will delve down the deeps.
Yours vs. Mine
Right vs. Wrong
Your Family,
My Family,
Your View
My View,
Your Needs,
My Needs:
stuck in the Twos.
The Three is You and I
and understanding that
there is another person
in the relationship;
The US.
Then we see
that sometimes we have to
value US
more than
than You and Me.
What shall prevail:
the irritation over
the tooth paste tube,
the unmade bed
the chores or we Three?
Is Happiness
the sacrifice
for Three
we learn to make?
Yes it is.
The Three
you me and the kids
Us and our family
not versus,
but additions to
the love
we want to add to our lives.
The Three comprehends
that all belong in this tapestry.
No outsiders here.
No insiders either.
Nations too,
practice Two:
Us vs. Them
Good vs Bad
Foreigners vs Us
God with Us and
not with Them.
Civilizations thrive or die
by the Threes and Twos.
So do We.
So practice
Three
not Two;
You might
be
happier.
But then again
that is just my view.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Romance Of Patrolman Casey
There was a young patrolman who
Had large but tender feet;
They always hurt him badly when
He walked upon his beat.
(He always took them with him when
He walked upon his beat.)
His name was Patrick Casey and
A sweetheart fair had he;
Her face was full of freckles—but
Her name was Kate McGee.
(It was in spite of freckles that
Her name was Kate McGee.)
'Oh, Pat!' she said, 'I’ll wed you when
Promotion comes to you!'
'I’m much-obliged,' he answered, and
'I’ll see what I can do.'
(I may remark he said it thus—
'Oi’ll say phwat Oi kin do.')
So then he bought some new shoes which
Allowed his feet more ease—
They may have been large twelves. Perhaps
Eighteens, or twenty-threes.
(That’s rather large for shoes, I think—
Eighteens or twenty-threes!)
What last they were I don’t know, but
Somehow it seems to me
I’ve heard somewhere they either were
A, B, C, D, or E.
(More likely they were five lasts wide—
A, B plus C, D, E.)
They were the stoutest cowhide that
Could be peeled off a cow.
But he was not promoted
So
Kate wed him anyhow.
(This world is crowded full of Kates
That wed them anyhow.)
poem by Ellis Parker Butler
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Tortoise Shell
The Cross, the Cross
Goes deeper in than we know,
Deeper into life;
Right into the marrow
And through the bone.
Along the back of the baby tortoise
The scales are locked in an arch like a bridge,
Scale-lapping, like a lobster's sections
Or a bee's.
Then crossways down his sides
Tiger-stripes and wasp-bands.
Five, and five again, and five again,
And round the edges twenty-five little ones,
The sections of the baby tortoise shell.
Four, and a keystone;
Four, and a keystone;
Four, and a keystone;
Then twenty-four, and a tiny little keystone.
It needed Pythagoras to see life playing with counters on the living back
Of the baby tortoise;
Life establishing the first eternal mathematical tablet,
Not in stone, like the Judean Lord, or bronze, but in life-clouded, life-rosy tortoise shell.
The first little mathematical gentleman
Stepping, wee mite, in his loose trousers
Under all the eternal dome of mathematical law.
Fives, and tens,
Threes and fours and twelves,
All the volte face of decimals,
The whirligig of dozens and the pinnacle of seven.
Turn him on his back,
The kicking little beetle,
And there again, on his shell-tender, earth-touching belly,
The long cleavage of division, upright of the eternal cross
And on either side count five,
On each side, two above, on each side, two below
The dark bar horizontal.
The Cross!
It goes right through him, the sprottling insect,
Through his cross-wise cloven psyche,
Through his five-fold complex-nature.
So turn him over on his toes again;
Four pin-point toes, and a problematical thumb-piece,
Four rowing limbs, and one wedge-balancing head,
Four and one makes five, which is the clue to all mathematics.
The Lord wrote it all down on the little slate
Of the baby tortoise.
Outward and visible indication of the plan within,
The complex, manifold involvednes,s of an individual creature
Plotted out
On this small bird, this rudiment,
This little dome, this pediment
Of all creation,
This slow one.
poem by David Herbert Lawrence
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Books should to one of these fours ends conduce, for wisdom, piety, delight, or use.
quote by John Denham
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dark Angel
Dark angel of heartbeating pound,
sixth sense of premonition glide,
kin to his ways and scopes to bound,
steel spurs transmit the spell around,
that duel's guns and death astound,
companion keen to stand aside,
Dark angel of heartbeating pound,
sixth sense of premonition glide,
Gunfighters' walk on dust, midday,
where forty fours will blossom fire,
his eyes sweep on each detail,
a draw of bluff on deathwalk trail,
will have sixes' to beat double play,
black coat, gun belt - thorn dry briar.
Gunfighters' walk on dust, midday,
where forty fours will blossom fire.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Hard work!
What is life without difficulty?
Is there such meaning as simplicity?
Problems only make us more stress.
And also give us white hairs.
Here are the school work.
Crash! I knelt on the floor!
Here comes the homework.
Bam! I fell on all fours!
' What are you doing? '
My mother boomed.
' School work and homework, Mom! '
I grumbled.
To be continued...
poem by Otaku Nature Lover CSHY
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No caldron broths…
This madness has me by the balls
It rocks me rolls me on all fours
In her petticoat; furors…
Loves entanglement, has no faults?
No culpability's, no caldron broths…
No angel—devils disguised as moths.
Love is a heat sensing, system.
A viper's nest... the colder one feels
The more is disgorged, the more
It is in a deep disequilibrium…
The more it repeals, conceals true ideals.
Loves entanglement, has no faults?
No culpability's, no caldron broths…
No angel—devils disguised as moths.
Love is just a heat sensing, system.
The more madness has me by the balls
It rocks me rolls me on all fours
In her petticoat; furors…
poem by Mark Heathcote
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A boy cannot begin playing ball too early. I might almost say that while he is still creeping on all fours he should have a bouncing rubber ball.
quote by Christy Mathewson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Might, Not The Just, Rules
Five is bigger than three or two.
Two threes or three twos exceed five.
The weak grow mighty by joining
And overthrow the mighty one.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Twenty-Nine Hand
Whaling city, corner of Brownell and Court,
a screened in porch masks a red maple card table,
A worn deck of Bicycles neatly stacked atop a
Scrimshaw-laden cribbage board,
straddled by two glasses of bittersweet lemonade.
The game begins with Ned Martin's pregnant pauses
as Yaz slams one over the Green Monster,
and grandpa grins and gives me a wink.
His fisherman hands expertly riffle the cards.
Little ears perk to chants of ' Louie, Louie, Louie'
He pitched three fives, two threes and a Jack of Hearts.
Threes to the crib, an eight cut and double skunked again.
Another tragic season, the Red Sox get nineteen.
Quiet corner, Watson Road
old red brick farmhouse, sony TV with surround sound
atop a well-aged red maple card table.
'Gwenivere, the Green Monster is the wall in left field.'
I grin and give her a wink as the Red Sox
pitch to her a twenty-nine hand.
poem by Darlene Perry
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