History makes one admire Napoleon's bloody romanticism just as cartoons make one grow fond of the loathsome mice.
aphorism by Valeriu Butulescu from Immensity of the Point, translated by Eva A. Ziem
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Napoleonic Fable
A fable that’s agreed upon
according to Napoleon
is what we should call history,
but ascribe its mystery
to recollections that are wrong
of brief events stretched into long,
in contrast to the brief report
that should, like our own lives, be short.
About this poem’s serious moral
A good historian would not quarrel:
Your history, if you are able
to write it up, is just a fable.
Napoleon once asked rhetorically: “What is history but a fable that is agreed upon? ”
1/3/10
poem by Gershon Hepner
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That Which Plagues the History Bandits
The History Bandits swinging...
Swinging in History roll.
Up comes one leader,
Ousted or assassinated by another.
The complaints of many
Feeding the avarice of one,
Makes the humdrum into history.
An idealist Wilson, a vengeful Clemenceau or
A prudent Lloyd George...who wishes to know?
The inspiring evil Hitler or politically capitalistic Americans
Or the fearless bloody Communists...
Mould the mounds of history.
A guilty country pleading innocence,
A Rasputinian government brought down by Rasputin
Or a prince who fashioned the legends of the creatures that
Plague the human existence.
What makes History?
Of what use is History?
The questions that plague the History Bandits.
Take up the sword of ink,
Oil the wheels that turn in your head,
And ponder anew on the questions that
Makes you wonder.
Go forth the History Bandits...
Go forth, and claim your rightful path.
poem by Cheryl Jacob
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Just For Fun
Cartoons
Just for fun
Just sitting around doing nothing
Having no worries, no responsibilities
No school
Just cartoons
And sugar cereal
Just cartoons
And more sugar cereal with extra sugar on it
Just cartoons
And more sugar cereal with extra sugar on it
It is fun to be a kid when you can be a kid
And when no one is watching, you put even four sugars on your sugar cereal
Or you just scoop up a few spoons of sugar into your mouth and love the way it melts in your mouth, just for fun
And when no one is watching you jump on the couch and the bed and you run through the house and you knock things over and you don’t pick them up because you are kid and you are just having fun
And you laugh and you giggle and you dance funny dances
You watch more cartoons
Eat more sugar cereal and dig through the box for the toy
And take more spoons of sugar
While watching cartoons
Just for fun.
poem by Connie Webb
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fate And Destiny!
**FATE AND DESTINY!
I couldn’t quite figure out till date,
If destiny makes us or we make our fate!
If what is destined can never be changed,
Why struggle at all, just blame it on fate? !
But today I recall that old story line,
Young Napoleon was once a truant child!
His worried mother took the child, -
To seek a fortuneteller’s advice!
The old teller had smiled and said, -
‘Madam your son has no line of fate! ’
Young Napoleon took out his pen knife,
Cut his palm to carve his fate line!
Rest is history nothing more need be said;
You may now decide about that line of
fate!
-Raj Nandy
06 May 09
(After writing about serious historical stuff,
I wanted to write about lighter things!)
.
Maria's Lullaby
An extract from a poem written for my grandchildren to Brahms Lullaby
Sleep; little mice sleep
Mother will watch over you
Shut your eyes and don't peek
Tomorrow the skies will be blue
Sleep; little mice sleep.
Sleep; little mice sleep
No harm will come whilst I am here
The sun has gone down by the peak
When the day dawns it will appear
Sleep; little mice sleep.
Sleep; little mice sleep
Your father is watching the house
That no owl or cat dares to seek
Harm to creatures or mouse
Sleep; little mice sleep.
Sleep; little mice sleep
Tomorrow you run and play
Now is not time to speak
When you awake a new day
Sleep; little mice sleep.
Sleep; little mice sleep
Rest now for your own sake
Shut your eyes now be asleep
I will be here when you awake
Sleep; little mice sleep.
poem by Thomas Golding
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Like most of those who study history, he (Napoleon III) learned from the mistakes of the past how to make new ones.
quote by A.J.P. Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bloody Luxury
(coverdale)
Now when I first met you
I was rolling along,
Just a bar room crooner
Singing heartbreak songs,
An I supposed I could never get next to you
But, you seemed quite happy with my company
You kept my body heat steady at 103,
With your mouth full of gimme
An your body full of much obliged
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
What you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
Youre a five star woman,
An you know what to give
To fill a part time loser
Full of reasons to live,
But, theres no doubt about it
Im taking a chance on you
Becos you get my heart beating heavy,
Make my knees go weak
You get me so damn nervous
I can hardly speak,
But, nothings gonna stop me
Hanging on my good luck charm
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
What you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
Honey what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
Bloody luxury
Honey what you do to me
Its bloody luxury
What you mean to me,
cos no matter what you do to me,
No matter what you do to me,
No matter what you do to me,
Its bloody luxury
Bloody luxury
Bloody luxury...
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All this is only for the mice and myself to admire!
quote by Catherine the Great
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Gorillaz cartoons seem more real to me than the actual people on TV. Because at least you know that there's some intelligence behind the cartoons, and there's a lot of work that's gone into it, so it can't all be just a lie.
quote by Damon Albarn
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What Difference Does It Make ?
All men have secrets and here is mine
So let it be known
We have been through hell and high tide
I can surely rely on you ...
And yet you start to recoil
Heavy words are so lightly thrown
But still i'd leap in front of a flying bullet for you
So, what difference does it make ?
So, what difference does it make ?
It makes none
But now you have gone
And you must be looking very old tonight
The devil will find work for idle hands to do
I stole and i lied, and why ?
Because you asked me to !
But now you make me feel so ashamed
Because i've only got two hands
Well, i'm still fond of you, oh-ho-oh
So, what difference does it make ?
Oh, what difference does it make ?
Oh, it makes none
But now you have gone
And your prejudice won't keep you warm tonight
Oh, the devil will find work for idle hands to do
I stole, and then i lied
Just because you asked me to
But now you know the truth about me
You won't see me anymore
Well, i'm still fond of you, oh-ho-oh
But no more apologies
No more apology
Oh, i'm too tired
I'm so very tired
And i'm feeling very sick and ill today
But i'm still fond of you, oh-ho-oh
Oh, my sacred one ...
Oh ...
song performed by by Smiths
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Irritating Sky
The sky is always changing –
Can't it settle down?
Shades of blue, then reddy hue,
Puffs of grey and white;
And then it's bloody night!
At least I see a smattering
Of twinkly little things,
A silver globe occasionally
Which admittedly it brings
A sort of pleasant feeling,
Warming to the soul,
But overall it's so annoying –
Irritatingly droll!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Sky sky bloody sky, bloody sky sky
Sky sky bloody sky, sky bloody sky
Sky bloody sky bloody sky sky sky
Sky bloody sky bloody sky sky sky
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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I'm a great admirer of cartoons, because I can't do cartoons.
quote by Bruce McCall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday
Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Envy and Admiration
Oh how I envy my sister
Every time she talks
Every time she walks
Every time she goes somewhere
I envy my sister every minute of the day
She talks like there’s no stopping her
She owns her walk all the time
She gets to have freedom to go wherever she wants
She gets to drive when she wants to
She is the lucky sister that I very much envy
But yet I still admire her with all of my heart
I admire her for her strength
I admire her for her willingness to speak out
I admire her for her ability to stand out in the crowd
She is the sister that I admire every minute of the day
How can I envy and admire her both?
She makes my insides fill with jealousy
But yet she fills my heart and brain with admiration
After confessing this, I still feel envy and admiration for my older sister…will it ever end? ? ?
poem by Casey Lyon
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What Difference Does It Make?
All men have secrets and here is mine
So let it be known
We have been through hell and high tide, I can surely rely on you?
And yet you start to recoil, heavy words are so lightly thrown
But still Id leap in front of a flying bullet for you
So, what difference does it make?
So, what difference does it make?
It makes none but you have gone
And you must be looking very old tonight
The devil will find work for idle hands to do
I stole and I lied, and why? because you asked me to!
But now you make feel so ashamed because Ive only got two hands well, Im still fond of you
So, what difference does it make?
It makes none but you have gone and your prejudice wont keep you warm tonight
The devil will find work for idle hands to do
I stole and I lied, and why? just because you asked me to! but you know the truth about me you wont see me anymore, Im still fond of you
So, no more apologies no more apologies Im too tired Im too sick and tired and Im feeling very sick and ill today
But Im still fond of you
song performed by by Face To Face
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Why does this person who is sitting behind a desk and never watches cartoons is arguing about what cartoons should be like. Its so creepy realizing that this person is a lunatic.
quote by Jhonen Vasquez
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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History is a set of lies agreed upon.
quote by Napoleon Bonaparte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is history but a fable agreed upon?
quote by Napoleon Bonaparte
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Come Day Go Day
Another birthday comes
& pushes me even further
over the hill
iil
unwell
(sick of being sick)
pushing this bloody boulder
like Sysiphus up the bloody hill
yet the touch
of your hand
makes me young
& willing
make me so glad
to be
a man
with you
my woman.
poem by Dónall Dempsey
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