And much as Wine has played the Infidel, And robbed me of my Robe of Honor Well, I often wonder what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the stuff they sell.
quote by Edward Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Please Tell Me, If You Ever Know...
who robbed us of the days
we laughed with childlike mirth?
who robbed us of the days
when vibrations flowed between us
like milk and curds in their
purest form that little krishna
filled his tummy with?
who robbed us of the days
we danced and sang on unknown
river banks competing against
wind water and amusing little ripples
set in those crystalline waters?
who robbed us of the days
we built any number of castles
by the mighty seas and swayed
to the rhythm of the waves?
who robbed us of
the air that giggled in glee?
who robbed us of
the days of milky moonlight?
who robbed us of
the first showers of monsoon?
who robbed us of
the days of peacok feathers?
who robbed us, dear friend?
can we retieve those days of
spontaneous giggles
unfretterd spirit
uninhibited expression...?
tell me, my friend
if you know the one
one who robbed us of the
very fundemental connection
is he the master-crafter time?
is she a naughty elf?
him or her i wish to meet
no, not to accost
but to see if the booty
really filled his or her heart
and if it did
i wish to leave all of it
for their happiness...
20sep2009
13.20hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Were I Man Grown
Were I man grown, I'd stand
With clean heart, soul, and hand,
An honor to this land.
I would be good and true.
I would not
smoke
and
chew
As many grown men do.
Tobacco is foul stuff.
Hogs
root it from the trough,
And serve it right enough.
I wish I'd every seed
And plant of that bad weed,
I'd make a fire indeed!
And these two lips of mine
Should never
taste of wine
,
Though it might glow and shine.
No wine, no beer, no gin,
No ale, no rum-within
Each drink lurk shame and sin.
And I'd not swear. Ah! when
We boys grow into men,
You'll see true manhood then.
For we shall be and do
Just what I've said; and you
Had better try it, too.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Cultural Infidel
I'm a cultural infidel
Painting in the dark
I'm a cultural infidel
Singin' in the park
Socrates, hypotheses, the music of Mozart
I'm a cultural infidel
Comin' from the heart
Free thinkin', hood-winkin', unblinkin' mon
Start trouble, burst bubbles, join my caravahn
Someones got to talk about accountability
Someones got to raise some hell
I guess it could be me
I'm a cultural infidel
Tryin' to draw a crowd
I'm a cultural infidel
Singin' right out loud
Philosophy is not for me, laughin' is my game
I'm a cultural infidel
Slap me with the blame
Loose cannon, armageddon, preachers at the door
Spittin' poison at the boys'n'girls on the dance floor
I hear them in the congress
I see them on TV
I hope the inquisition remains a memory
... horn/pan instrumental ...
Al diablo Picasso, al diablo Manet
Al diablo Fontainebleu, al diablo Hemingway
O diab dr. Thompson, o diab San Joan
O diab Village People, o diab Rolling Stone
(hoo hoo)
Someones got to talk about accountability
Someones got to raise some hell
It might as well be me
I'm a cultural infidel
believe in common sense
I'm a cultural infidel
Love the present tense
But we have to keep a lookout for those mean old backed up farts
I'm a cultural infidel
Comin' from the heart
My heart, my heart, my heart
Mon coeur...
Will I see you in heaven?
Will I see you in hell?
Will I see you in Rio
Only time will...
Will I see you in heaven?
Will I see you in hell?
Will I see you tomorrow?
Only time will tell
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett (1996)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A lot of people put all that stuff on a pedestal, and they won't touch it. But I don't think that's the reason they did that. I think they played that stuff out of pure joy.
quote by Brian Setzer
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I've played in pipe bands in Scotland, and I've always played guitars and drums and stuff.
quote by Ewan McGregor
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Wine (Love Poem)
Wine is for laughing
Wine is for talking all night
Wine is for living life out loud
Wine is for making us beautiful
Wine is for all-night conversations
Wine is for getting together again
Wine is for ‘never again’ tomorrow
Wine is for sleeping like a baby
Wine is for telling the truth
Wine is food for love
Wine is friendship
Wine is fresh
Wine
Can
Be
The
One
Perfe ct
Companion
At the end of a long day
poem by Ian Beckett
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See my father knew a lot about music, he played the piano and he would do theory and stuff like that, but I didn't learn anything from him, but I played that for him and he liked it a lot.
quote by John Fahey
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Flags & Tears & Heros
' For every flag, for every tear, for every Soldier loss.
A pride for One's Country and Freedom rings in Honor and Glory.
To die for Our Country is the most Distinguished Honor.
To all the fallen Soldiers and their Families,
There is never enough Thanks and Salutes for the Honor You gave to this Country.
Your Life is precious to all and you will be missed and remembered.
Watch over us in your new Mission from above.
The Sun will always remind us for the scarify you gave, to make it shine so bright.
The wind is your soul to touch our lives. TY for All you did My Fellow HEROS! ! ! ! '
poem by Michael Peterson
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The Demon Milk
'Yer honor, please!' the prisoner said,
'It isn't wot you think.
To look on wine when it is red
Or alco'olic drink
Is not among me little ways.
I been teetotal all me days.
It ain't the wine, it ain't the beer,
It ain't the gin-an'-two
That bows me 'ead in sorrer 'ere.
'Tain't no fermented brew
That druv me on to sin an' strife.
Hark: 'Ere's the story of me life.
When I was just a little kid
I was a model child.
Wot I was tole to do I did,
Reel innercint an' mild.
But, bein' wise, an' unlike some,
At one year old I 'owled for rum.
Me nurse, wot was a strict t.t.
Aimed my young soul to bilk,
An' every day she flooded me
Wiv quarts an' quarts of milk.
Oh, 'ow the stuff coursed thro' each vein
An' set on fire me tiny brain.
At five, as well may be believed,
I was a little tough;
For by that then I 'ad conceived
A cravin' for the stuff.
I swiped it from each neighbor's door,
An' roamed the district seekin' more.
The cravin', sir, it got me down,
When I grew to a man;
I raided dairies thro' the town,
Pinched bottle, billy-can,
An' never could resist no'ow
The fascination of a cow.
It ain't the rum, it ain't the beer
Oh, 'ow I wish it was!
That brings me ignominy 'ere.
'Ave pity, sir, becos
It was the demon milk, I vows,
That made me pinch that 'erd of cows.'
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Pedlar
Pedlar's coming down the street,
Housewives beat a swift retreat.
Don't you answer to the bell;
Heedless what she has to sell.
Just discreetly go inside.
We must hang a board, I fear:
PEDLARS NOT PERMITTED HERE.
I'm trying to sell what nobody wants to buy;
They turn me away, but still I try and try.
My arms are aching and my feet are sore;
Heartsick and worn I drag from door to door.
I ring bells, meekly knock, hold out my tray,
But no one answers, so I go away.
I am so weary; oh, I want to cry,
Trying to sell what no one wants to buy.
I do not blame them. Maybe in their place
I'd slam the door shut in a pedlar's face.
I don not know; perhaps I'd raise their hopes
By looking at their pens and envelopes,
Their pins and needles, pencils, spools of thread,
Cheap tawdry stuff, before I shake my head
And go back to my cosy kitchen nook
Without another thought or backward look.
I would not see their pain nor hear their sigh,
Trying to sell what no one wants to buy.
I know I am a nuisance. I can see
They only buy because they pity me.
They may . . . I've had a cottage of my own,
A husband, children - now I am alone,
Friendless in all the world. The bitter years
Have crushed me, robbed me of my dears.
All, all I've lost, my only wish to die,
Selling my trash that no one wants to buy.
Pedlar's beating a retreat -
Poor old thing, her face is sweet,
her figure frail, her hair snow-white;
Dogone it! Every door's shut tight. . . .
"Say, Ma, how much for all you've got?
Hell, here's ten bucks . . . I'll take the lot.
Go, get yourself a proper feed,
A little of the rest you need.
I've got a mother looks like you -
I'd hate her doing what you do. . . .
No, don't get sloppy, can the mush,
Praying for me - all that slush;
But please don't come again this way,
Ten bucks is all I draw a day."
poem by Robert William Service
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The Herbal Oil Vendor
My poor Mom was in the General Hospital
For an immediate surgery
And we take her meals everyday
Brother and I are alternatively.
The Herbal oil Vendor in his Sixties
Who stands at the entrance gate
And sell his precious stuff.
He boasts; ' These bottles are worth than money
Straight away from Himalayas
And the one and only remedy for loss of hair.'
He's totally a Bald headed
And nobody query why don't he applies this panacea?
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Half The World
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
Half the world hates
What half the world does every day
Half the world waits
While half gets on with it anyway
Half the world lives
Half the world makes
Half the world gives
While the other half takes
Half the world is
Half the world was
Half the world thinks
While the other half does
Half the world talks
With half a mind on what they say
Half the world walks
With half a mind to run away
Half the world lies
Half the world learns
Half the world flies
As half the world turns
Half the world cries
Half the world laughs
Half the world tries
To be the other half
Half of us divided like a torn-up photograph half of us are
Trying to reach the other half
Half the world cares
While half the world is wasting the day
Half the world shares
While half the world is stealing away
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hidden Life
To tell the Saviour all my wants,
How pleasing is the task!
Nor less to praise Him when He grants
Beyond what I can ask.
My laboring spirit vainly seeks
To tell but half the joy,
With how much tenderness He speaks,
And helps me to reply.
Nor were it wise, nor should I choose,
Such secrets to declare;
Like precious wines their taste they lose,
Exposed to open air.
But this with boldness I proclaim,
Nor care if thousands hear,
Sweet is the ointment of His name,
Not life is half so dear.
And can you frown, my former friends,
Who knew what once I was,
And blame the song that thus commends
The Man who bore the cross?
Trust me, I draw the likeness true,
And not as fancy paints;
Such honor may He give to you,
For such have all His saints.
poem by William Cowper
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Olney Hymn 47: The Hidden Life
To tell the Saviour all my wants,
How pleasing is the task!
Nor less to praise Him when He grants
Beyond what I can ask.
My laboring spirit vainly seeks
To tell but half the joy,
With how much tenderness He speaks,
And helps me to reply.
Nor were it wise, nor should I choose,
Such secrets to declare;
Like precious wines their taste they lose,
Exposed to open air.
But this with boldness I proclaim,
Nor care if thousands hear,
Sweet is the ointment of His name,
Not life is half so dear.
And can you frown, my former friends,
Who knew what once I was,
And blame the song that thus commends
The Man who bore the cross?
Trust me, I draw the likeness true,
And not as fancy paints;
Such honor may He give to you,
For such have all His saints.
poem by William Cowper
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Half The World
Half the world lives,
Half the world makes,
Half the world gives
While the other half takes.
Half the world hates,
Half the world runs away,
Half the world's late,
Half the world praises the day.
Half the world is,
Half the world was,
Half the world thinks,
Half the world does.
Half the world lies,
Half the world burns,
Half the world cries
While the other half turns.
Half the world cares,
Half the world weeps,
Half the world shares,
Half the world keeps.
Half the world sings,
Half the world laughs,
Half the world brings,
Half the world tries to be the other half.
End.
So, I just kind of played the way I played and then eventually we kind of figured out what worked best for the band. So, I definitely changed my stuff up and I think we're playing really tight now.
quote by Matt Cameron
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A sobering spirit in Lagen
Can be heard swearing 'Starving's a bargain!
But enough is enough
(Stuff, stuff, stuff, stuff, stuff) .'
Then retreats, hunting bargains again.
quote by by Douglas Scotney
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I could have played more complex stuff. I could have been a busier player. But that's not what I wanted to do. I played what I wanted to play.
quote by Don Henley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Marriage and Love
Marriage gives life to love and love gives life to marriage.
In marriage, love means:
To know in your heart you were meant only for each-other.
To know that Heaven grew you apart and brought you together after the time you were meant to be molded to fit each-other.
To discover what it is to be best friends forever.
To discover what it is to love someone more than yourself.
To discover you are actually only a half and how much you need the other to be complete.
To discover the bonds that form when times get tough.
To discover how much more joy is multiplied when there is someone you love to share it with.
Each day is a day of discovery, a day to build your love, a day to make your bond stronger.
Marriage is:
To together choose one way, not one's own way.
To respect and honor with love the other over oneself or anyone else.
To compromise with each-other but never compromising each-other.
To know you are loved, wanted and needed whether you are fat or thin, well or ill, chirpy or grumpy.
To live life's summer, winter, autumn and spring always being there for one another.
To blend as one that over the years you feel as one and speak as one.
To be savored like wine, enriched by the passing of time.
To honor Marriage is to honor its Maker. To commit in marriage is to commit to its Maker.
poem by Dennisa Davidson
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2010 World Cup
2010 World Cup,
Two brothers played against each other for different countries!
And they were 'Jerome Boateng' who played for Germany and,
His half-brother 'Kevin-Prince Boateng' who played for Ghana;
And Germany won the match by 1-0.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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