Related quotes: El Arabi! El Arabi! Burn...

At Bordj-an-Nus

El Arabi! El Arabi! Burn in thy brilliance, mine own!
O Beautiful! O Barbarous! Seductive as a serpent is
That poises head and hood, and makes his body tremble to the drone
Of tom-tom and of cymbal wooed by love's assassin sorceries!
El Arabi! El Arabi!
The moon is down; we are alone;
May not our mouths meet, madden, mix, melt in the starlight of a kiss?
El Arabi!

There by the palms, the desert's edge, I drew thee to my heart and held
Thy shy slim beauty for a splendid second; and fell moaning back,
Smitten by Love's forked flashing rod -as if the uprooted mandrake yelled!
As if I had seen God, and died! I thirst! I writhe upon the rack!
El Arabi! El Arabi!
It is not love! I am compelled
By some fierce fate, a vulture poised, heaven's single ominous speck of black.
El Arabi!

There in the lonely bordj across the dreadful lines of sleeping men,
Swart sons of the Sahara, thou didst writhe slim, sinuous and swift,
Warning me with a viper's hiss -and was not death upon us then,
No bastard of thy maiden kiss? God's grace, the all-surpassing gift!
El Arabi! El Arabi!
Yea, death is man's Elixir when
Life's pale wine foams and splashes over his imagination's rim!
El Arabi!

El Arabi! El Arabi! witch-amber and obsidian
Thine eyes are, to ensorcell me, and leonine thy male caress.
Will not God grant us Paradise to end the music Earth began?
We play with loaded dice! He cannot choose but raise right hand to bless.
El Arabi! El Arabi!
Great is the love of God and man
While I am trembling in thine arms, wild wanderer of the wilderness!
El Arabi!

poem by Aleister Crowley
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Courage consists of the power of self-recovery.

quote by Julie Arabi
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The men who come on the stage at one period are all found to be related to each other. Certain ideas are in the air.

quote by Julie Arabi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Battle of Tel-el-Kebir

Ye sons of Great Britain, come join with me,
And sing in praise of Sir Garnet Wolseley;
Sound drums and trumpets cheerfully,
For he has acted most heroically.

Therefore loudly his praises sing
Until the hills their echoes back doth ring;
For he is a noble hero bold,
And an honour to his Queen and country, be it told.

He has gained for himself fame and renown,
Which to posterity will be handed down;
Because he has defeated Arabi by land and by sea,
And from the battle of Tel-el-Kebir he made him to flee.

With an army about fourteen thousand strong,
Through Egypt he did fearlessly march along,
With the gallant and brave Highland brigade,
To whom honour is due, be it said.

Arabi's army was about seventy thousand in all,
And, virtually speaking, it wasn't very small;
But if they had been as numerous again,
The Irish and Highland brigades would have beaten them, it is plain.

'Twas on the 13th day of September, in the year of 1882,
Which Arabi and his rebel horde long will rue;
Because Sir Garnet Wolseley and his brave little band
Fought and conquered them on Kebir land.

He marched upon the enemy with his gallant band
O'er the wild and lonely desert sand,
And attacked them before daylight,
And in twenty minutes he put them to flight.

The first shock of the attack was borne by the Second Brigade,
Who behaved most manfully, it is said,
Under the command of brave General Grahame,
And have gained a lasting honour to their name.

But Major Hart and the 18th Royal Irish, conjoint,
Carried the trenches at the bayonet point;
Then the Marines chased them about four miles away,
At the charge of the bayonet, without dismay!

General Sir Archibald Alison led on the Highland Brigade,
Who never were the least afraid.
And such has been the case in this Egyptian war,
For at the charge of the bayonet they ran from them afar!

With their bagpipes playing, and one ringing cheer,
And the 42nd soon did the trenches clear;
Then hand to hand they did engage,
And fought like tigers in a cage.

Oh! it must have been a glorious sight
To see Sir Garnet Wolseley in the thickest of the fight!
In the midst of shot and shell, and the cannons roar,
Whilst the dead and the dying lay weltering in their gore.

Then the Egyptians were forced to yield,
And the British were left masters of the field;
Then Arabi he did fret and frown
To see his army thus cut down.

Then Arabi the rebel took to flight,
And spurred his Arab steed with all his might:
With his heart full of despair and woe,
And never halted till he reached Cairo.

Now since the Egyptian war is at an end,
Let us thank God! Who did send
Sir Garnet Wolseley to crush and kill
Arabi and his rebel army at Kebir hill.

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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All good men are happy when they choose to be their own authors. Those who choose to have others edit their pathways, must live on the edge of another man's sword.

quote by Julie Arabi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds, adored by little statesmen and philosophers and divines. With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do.

quote by Julie Arabi
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Der Einfall, Remaining Light In Duino

[Beginning with two lines from Duino Elegies by Rainer Maria Rilke]

'You that fall with the
thud only fruits know, unripe, '
here wait to be shaken.

Here we carry, or ought to, driven so much past
bitter root,

sugar,

not for selves but for the gods to sweeten their too
objective palates

(at least they have tongues/mouths,
we know they have teeth)

to open them into our subjectivity which, secret told, is
what they crave, our realist sufferings, such are sweet
to them, makes them, too, more solid -

what they seek - solidity beyond our capacities to reify
but for Imagination which conducts/births them into material
being.

Our extreme suffering compensates for, gravitates their
too refined coldness toward heat.

They, like scattered flour, having no leaven,
dream/desire us-the-leaven; they seek/swell

into what we have, what we bring, we, the most baked,
to be torn into, eaten, too, for yearning gods' sake.

They come/fall compelled to colors, palettes, ours, upon
worn pallets, these acrobats, as yet enfleshed lovers in
not yet felt world and literal sense, they

do balance, risk, stumble, break, stutter/cry utter such
further dimension into

desire's bodies' breath, ashes,
importantly, always just arriving

forgetting the arguing seed's
previous vertical discontentment.

Such skies already known

limb by limb escape

slowly their shaping.

They suspend, extend then

into their felt fall,

hard land into waking.

What uses for tears there

are gather there from

the eye, pours upon the

cheek from which miscreant

tongues may most drink.

Think again upon these things which go about

in darkness and stumble against us begging no

pardon, intent still on passage, confused for words

or Ibn Arabi's 'Black Light' no light at all or

thing but a gnossis found, or given.

Gnossis, most striven for, in minutest motes, is.

All this to say, Ready.

Darkness. Expand/extend

further beyond (yet into)

unsaid street corner,

into inarticulate cathedral,

into unutterable mosque,

into wholly other loci

dependent upon uninhabited

blue field, crust, what

passes for, or has, Light,

just overtones 'beyond the fiddle.'

Now here must stop

in what is remaining light to cook

must bend to the purple cabbage at hand,

the courage of the knife

the helpful drive of hunger,

marvel yet again, it's faceted pattern when

halved, same as the onion, the leek

Such facets in me too reveal when

I dare to be loved in two

**The quote in the poem is from the Duino Elegies

poem by Warren Falcon
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The Jacket

Through the Plagues of Egyp' we was chasin' Arabi,
Gettin' down an' shovin' in the sun;
An' you might 'ave called us dirty, an' you might ha' called us dry,
An' you might 'ave 'eard us talkin' at the gun.
But the Captain 'ad 'is jacket, an' the jacket it was new --
('Orse Gunners, listen to my song!)
An' the wettin' of the jacket is the proper thing to do,
Nor we didn't keep 'im waitin' very long.

One day they gave us orders for to shell a sand redoubt,
Loadin' down the axle-arms with case;
But the Captain knew 'is dooty, an' he took the crackers out
An' he put some proper liquor in its place.
An' the Captain saw the shrapnel, which is six-an'-thirty clear.
('Orse Gunners, listen to my song!)
"Will you draw the weight," sez 'e, "or will you draw the beer?"
An' we didn't keep 'im waitin' very long.
~For the Captain, etc.~

Then we trotted gentle, not to break the bloomin' glass,
Though the Arabites 'ad all their ranges marked;
But we dursn't 'ardly gallop, for the most was bottled Bass,
An' we'd dreamed of it since we was disembarked:
So we fired economic with the shells we 'ad in 'and,
('Orse Gunners, listen to my song!)
But the beggars under cover 'ad the impidence to stand,
An' we couldn't keep 'em waitin' very long.
~And the Captain, etc.~

So we finished 'arf the liquor (an' the Captain took champagne),
An' the Arabites was shootin' all the while;
An' we left our wounded 'appy with the empties on the plain,
An' we used the bloomin' guns for pro-jec-tile!
We limbered up an' galloped -- there were nothin' else to do --
('Orse Gunners, listen to my song!)
An' the Battery came a-boundin' like a boundin' kangaroo,
But they didn't watch us comin' very long.
~As the Captain, etc.~

We was goin' most extended -- we was drivin' very fine,
An' the Arabites were loosin' 'igh an' wide,
Till the Captain took the glassy with a rattlin' right incline,
An' we dropped upon their 'eads the other side.
Then we give 'em quarter -- such as 'adn't up and cut,
('Orse Gunners, listen to my song!)
An' the Captain stood a limberful of fizzy -- somethin' Brutt,
But we didn't leave it fizzing very long.
~For the Captain, etc.~

We might ha' been court-martialled, but it all come out all right
When they signalled us to join the main command.
There was every round expended, there was every gunner tight,
An' the Captain waved a corkscrew in 'is 'and.
~But the Captain 'ad 'is jacket, etc.~

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Wars In Queen Victorias Reign

We will now sing in thoughtful strain
Of wars in Queen Victoria's reign,
The Russian Bear did ages lurk
All ready for to spring on Turk,
For Russian Statesmen did divine
That they should conquer Constantine;
But like a Grey hound after Hare,
The Lion did drive back the Bear,
And made it feel the British rule,
At gates of strong Sebastapool,
Then insolent was Persia,
Till Lion had to dictate law;
And while engaged in scenes like these,
He was attacked by the Chinese.
And for this outrage all so wanton
He then resolved to seize on Canton,
But soon there came a dismal cry
Of slaughtered Britons from Delhi;
The Bengal Tiger, sick with gore,
Did tremble at the Lion's roar,
But Briton's got a serious shock
By losing of brave Havelock,
But Campbell, 'mid a numerous foe,
Full quick these armied hordes did o'erthrow
In Abyssinian dungeons vile
Lay captives of Great Britain's Isle,
But soon the tyrant Theodore
Lay sadly weltering in his gore.
The savage tribes of Ashanteee
From British troops did quickly flee.
In Afgan and Zulu wars
Many did find their deadly scars.
In the land of the Pharaohs
The Christians suffered cruel woes,
Till in Alexandria Bay
The British iron clads did display
The mighty power they did wield,
While their steel sides from harm did shield
And British army on the land
Marched bravely o'er the burning sand,
And Arabi found 'twas useless labor
His strong trench of Tel-el-Kebir.
Egyptians did not wish to feel
In their breast cold British steel.
Their great power was soon laid low
And Wolseley entered Grand Cairo.
Egyptians now no more revile
The Christians on the Banks of Nile.
We here have sung three heroes' names,
Havelock from the land of Thames,
And Campbell from the banks of Clyde,
And Wolseley from Liffey's side.
When rose, thistle, shamrock unite;
They do prove victors in the fight.
Now Britain once more does command
Respect alike on sea and land.
But now may wars forever cease
And mankind ever live in peace.

poem by James McIntyre
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The Grief Of Love

Love, I am sick for thee, sick with an absolute grief,
Sick with the thought of thy eyes and lips and bosom.
All the beauty I saw, I see to my hurt revealed.
All that I felt I feel to--day for my pain and sorrow.

Love, I would fain forget thee, hide thee in deeper night,
Shut thee where no thought is, in the grave with tears.
Love, I would turn my face to the wall and, if needs be, die;
Death less cruel were than thy eyes which have blinded me.

Since thou art gone from me, glory is gone from my life;
Dumb are the woods and streams, and dumb the voice of my soul;
Dead are the flowers we loved, blackened and sere with blight;
Earth is frost--bound under my foot where our footsteps trod.

Give me back for my sorrow the days of senseless peace,
Days when I thought not of thee, or thought in wisdom;
Let me see thee once more as thou to my folly wert,
A woman senseless as sounding brass or as tinkling cymbal.

Why didst thou show me thy heart, which I thought not of?
Why didst thou bare me thy soul, who to me wert soulless?
Why didst thou kiss my mouth, when my mouth did mock?
Why didst thou speak to my lips of love, ere my lips had spoken?

Love, thou hast made me thine, thine, and in my despite,
Laying thy hand on my heart in the soft Spring weather;
Love, thou hast bought my soul at a price, the price of thine,
Never again to mock at love, ah, never, never!

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Give to Love

Love came knocking on thy door
With you in sight to love and adore
But thine did give
All that thou have and
need to live?
You gave thine lips for love to speak
You gave thine heart for love's heart's weak
You gave thine face, to love to trace
its tears across thee a sorrowful place
thou give to thy loss when it comes to love!
You gave thine soul to love's control
You gave love thy hand to hold
You gave thy feet for love to kiss
You gave thy happiness to love's bliss
You gave thy breast for love to touch
You gave thine body for love to clutch.
But what did love give thee?
Love took and took and left thee with nothing!
With nothing now you are at peace, thou art free!
This is what love did to me!

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Pog

With thine kiss mine heart leap
into thee where my love grow
With thine kiss thy beauty I reap
and thy love mine heart sow
My beauty so kiss me
So love can feel
What beauties kiss
and thine heart reel
into majestic mist
where we can love
and our hearts seal…

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Beautiful Breast

Dainty, delicate and delicious doth meet
On thine breast tender, mild and sweet
Beauty in thy heart veiled by a beauteous breast
Seizes mine sight and mine heart arrest
Thou art a manifestation of tranquil beauty
Nurturing life, possessing love's duty
Enticingly sweet thy gravitate to me
With all love's passion glistening on the breast of thee
Thou kiss mine lips with thine tender breast
And I doth taste thy flesh while thine heart caress
Mine heart too, wert love in us doth meet
On thine tender, mild breast, lovely and sweet

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Will death spare thee?

Will death spare thee? Whose life doth bless
Beauty perfected by love's tender stroke
Enthralled in a frame for my eye to caress
Dressed in raiment elegant as baroque
Grandiose in light colors of black, of red
Thou infest mine heart and communicate emotion
An internal beauty, which can never be said
Speaks in awe and humbles by veneration
Refusing to quench death's blood thirst
Thy remain flawless, beyond the limit of time
In a paradise of beauty, wert beauty is nursed
To there mine soul elevates, transcends and doth chime
With the angels unseen and wert earth is abound
In heaven's symphony, in heaven's sound
Wert art live in paradise found…….

Will death spare thee?

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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If God Made Thee Mine

If God made thee mine, and willed that I be thine,
What wondrous love with thee I'd daily share!
The world could not contain the joys of Lovers' Lane
Nor bind our hearts more tightly, this I swear!
If God made me thine, I'd kiss those lips of wine,
Anointing them with sighs straight from my soul!
My heart burns like a flame when whispering thy name
To melt within all thoughts of self-control!
If God made thee mine, my precious Valentine,
The yearning years at last would thus be stilled!
My pining would be done for I'd be with the one
Whom God had made to help me be fulfilled!
If God made me thine, I'd praise His love divine
And pray He grant us heirs and happiness!
A gorgeous girl and boy and times we could enjoy...
Yes, if God made thee mine to love and bless...

poem by Denis Martindale
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Kisses For You...

I once heard these words in a song;
'You must remember this...a kiss is
just a kiss...a sigh is just a sigh, ' etc.

With you...nothing...nothing, could be
further from the truth.

Your kiss, is a ride among the stars,
a shower of moon beams and a
sailboat ride, in the Garden Of Eden.

Kissing you...is an out of body experience,
a transport to paradise and a creation
of ultimate passion and joy.

Kissing, every part of who you are, is
truly a banquet of love.

Let me feast of your love and of your lips,
for I am in love with you. Let me always
kiss your mouth...eyes...all of you.

Let us ride the feathers of angels, through
starlit nights-holding...kissing, for now...
and evermore.

Your kiss...touch...embrace, has captured
my heart...my very soul.

I send you this kiss...for the lips
I can not do without.

*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss *..........Kiss*
*Kiss*......Kiss*
*Kiss*.. .*Kiss*
*Kiss*.*Kiss*
*Kiss*......*Kiss*
*Kiss*........*Kiss*
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.........* Kiss*
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.........*Kis s*
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...........* Kiss*
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..*Kiss*....... .*Kiss*
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..*Kiss*.....*Kiss*
..........*Kiss

To kiss you...love you...has made my
life worthwhile. Has given meaning, to
each day I live.

A day without your kiss, is as a day
without sunshine. Just the thought
of you, gladdens my heart.

*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss*. .........Kiss*
*Kiss*......Kiss*
*Kiss*...* Kiss*
*Kiss*.*Kiss*
*Kiss*......*Kiss*
* Kiss*........*Kiss*
*Kiss*............*Kiss**Kiss*...............*Kiss*

.........*Ki ss*
.........*Kiss*
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............*Kiss*
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.........*Kiss*.*Kiss*.......*Kiss*
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..*Kiss*.....*Kiss*
..........*Kiss

ONE LAST KISS, FOR ALL THAT YOU ARE.
FOR ALL THAT YOU DO.

WHY DO I LOVE YOU?
BECAUSE...YOU ARE YOU.

YOU ARE MY WORLD. MY LOVE.

*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss*.. ........Kiss*
*Kiss*......Kiss*
*Kiss*...*K iss*
*Kiss*.*Kiss*
*Kiss*......*Kiss*
*K iss*........*Kiss*
*Kiss*............*Kiss*
*Kiss*...............*Kiss*

.........*Kis s*
.........*Kiss*
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..... ....*Kiss*
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............*Ki ss*
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.Kiss*.......*Kiss*
..*Kiss*.....*Kiss*
...........*Kiss

poem by Joe Fazio
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Banquet Of Love