Related quotes: When the scheming Fusion few...

The Wobblers

When the scheming Fusion few
Sought to snare the Lib'ral crew,
It was plain for all to view
That they wobbled.
And when later in the day
They gave liberty away,
One might very truly say
They were hobbled.

Later on, in caucus met,
They were wont to fume and fret,
And 'tis hinted even yet
That they squabbled.
It is said they fought and scratched,
Till the Fusion scheme was hatched,
Then their diff'rences were patched
Crudely cobbled.

Then, the Commonwealth to rob,
They put up the 'Finance' job,
And 'twas patent to the mob
They were nobbled.
Now their ev'ry word and act,
Ev'ry measure they enact
Illustrates the dismal fact
They've been gobbled.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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The Hulk

Now, 'ere's my tip
Fer the Fusion ship,
An' I tells it straight an' square.
I'm a rare old tar
As nigh an' far
You'll not meet ev'rywhere.
I've seen 'er sail
In many a gale,
But she's done 'er final trip;
So I 'itches me breeches, an' a simple tale I pitches
O' this good ole Fusion ship.
'Twas Alf an' Joe,
Long years ago,
They built 'er any 'ow.
Twas a strange ole skiff
With 'er keel skew-wiff,
An' a double-ended bow.
Yus, a nose each end,
An' a grecian bend
Amidships, quaint an' queer.
When I seen 'er take the water, 'Ho!' ses I, 'she is a snorter!'
An' I gives a 'earty cheer.

An' sail she did.
But I'l lay ten quid
No ship, befor enor since,
Done 'ark 'er tricks;
'Er darned ole fix
'Ud make longshoremen wince.
She'd bob and bow,
The blamed old scow,
Like a wet an' foolish 'en;
An' 'er subsekint behav'er an' the effects fer to save 'er
Was a treat fer sialor-men.

An' Alf 'e was
'Er skipper, 'cos
No other could be got
To sail that craft!
An' fore an' aft
They was a rare ole lot.
So queer a crew
I never knew
An' Joe, 'e was fust mate.
An' to 'ear 'im scold and rate 'er, when 'e tried to navigate 'er -
Well, I tell yeh, it was great!

Fer some they said
To point 'er 'ead
Fer nor'-nor'-east by east,
Fer Tory Bay,
An' some said 'Nay,'
An' the langwidge never eased.
An' some they pressed
To sail doo west,
Fer the ole Freetection port.
An' the way she waltzed an' wobbled, while they 'owled an' fought an' squabbled.
Ho, I never seen sich sport!

An' poor ole Joe!
'Is watch below
Was mostly short an' sweet;
Fer 'e never knew
Wot time that crew
Might up an' change 'er beat.
But Alf, the boss,
'E took 'is doss,
An' 'e let 'er sail or stop;
Fer in days when seas was finer 'e was skipper of a liner,
An' 'e sorter felt the drop.

Now, she dropped at last
'Er anchor fast
In the 'arbor of Recess.
'Er sheets is tore,
An' 'er plates is wore,
An' she'll sail no more, I guess.
Alf got the pip
On 'er final trip,
An' there's some as said 'e swore
'E was sickened of 'er capers; so 'e 'anded in 'id papers,
An' she'll put to sea no more.
But it's 'ip, 'ip, 'ip!
fer the Fusion ship,
Fer the navigatin' 'en!
Since 'er cruise begun
She 'as give great fun
To us 'eart sailor-men.
We 'ave cheered an' laughed
An' joked an' chaffed
Since the day she put to sea;
So I takes a pull and 'itches (as our 'abit is) my breeches,
An' I give 'er three times three.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Our present nuclear fusion reactors are classified by the methods used to support the nuclear fusion reaction, which takes place at a temperature much hotter than the surface of the Sun.

quote by Wilson Greatbatch
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Song at Cock-Crow

1918 -- Ille autem iterum negavit.

The first time that Peter denied his Lord
He shrank from the cudgel, the scourge and the cord,
But followed far off to see what they would do,
Till the cock crew--till the cock crew--
After Gethsemane, till the cock crew!

The first time that Peter denied his Lord
'Twas only a maid in the palace who heard,
As he sat by the fire and warmed himself through.
Then the cock crew! Then the cock crew!
("Though also art one of them.") Then the cock crew!

The first time that Peter denied his Lord
He had neither the Throne, nor the Keys nor the Sword--
A poor silly fisherman, what could he do,
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
But weep for his wickedness when the cock crew?
. . . . . .

The next time that Peter denied his Lord
He was Fisher of Men, as foretold by the Word,
With the Crown on his brow and the Cross on his shoe,
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
In Flanders and Picardy when the cock crew!

The next time that Peter denied his Lord
'Twas Mary the Mother in Heaven Who heard,
She grieved for the maidens and wives that they slew
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
At Tirmonde and Aerschott when the cock crew!

The next time that Peter denied his Lord
The Babe in the Manger awakened and stirred,
And He stretched out His arms for the playmates
He knew--
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
But the waters had covered them when the cock crew!

The next time that Peter denied his Lord
'Twas Earth in her agony waited his word,
But he sat by the fire and naught would he do,
Though the cock crew--though the cock crew--
Over all Christendom, though the cock crew!

The last time that Peter denied his Lord,
The Father took from him the Keys and the Sword,
And the Mother and Babe brake his Kingdom in two,
When the cock crew--when the cock crew--
(Because of his wickedness) when the cock crew!

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The fundamental purpose of a novel like Count Julian is to achieve the unity of object and means of representation, the fusion of treason as scheme and treason as language.

quote by Juan Goytisolo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When we look up at night and view the stars, everything we see is shinning because of distant nuclear fusion.

Carl Sagan in Cosmos
Submitted by Catalin Popescu
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The Chaos Of Chaos

sun from another universe
to sun to another universe

the planets of the two universes
and even the distant stars

have always feared their fusion
but no matter what: love they say

has its own reasons of fusion
and whatever destruction is caused

to the surrounding planets and
neighboring stars, the wild rupture

the massive explosion, love they say
always triumphs with justifications saying

there is another new smarter beginning
and what is it but love & love just the same

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Naming The Stars

This present tragedy will eventually
turn into myth, and in the mist
of that later telling the bell tolling
now will be a symbol, or, at least,
a sign of something long since lost.

This will be another one of those
loose changes, the rearrangement of
hearts, just parts of old lives
patched together, gathered into
a dim constellation, small consolation.

Look, we will say, you can almost see
the outline there: her fingertips
touching his, the faint fusion
of two bodies breaking into light.

poem by Joyce Sutphen
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Commonwealth

Immigrants. Wilson Health said to the immgrants you better get back to the
commonwealth homes. Yeah, yeah, yeah I said Get back home. Now Enoch Powell was
said to the folks color of his skin. He said don't care. So he said you better
get up. He said he said to Enoch Powell. You better go home. So Wilson said to.
We got to swing. We have to go the hill. So Wilson Health said to Enoch Powell
we got to the commonwealth. Commonwealth yeah commonwealth yeah commonwealth
yeah commonwealth yeah.
Commonwealth yeah. If you don't want trouble you got to go home. To Indania.
I've have enough of that. I'm coming back yeah to England. Dirty Enoch Powell.
Commonwealth. Commonwealth yeah. Don't you hear me commonwealth yeah. Well I
check Austria England India. Enoch powell. Oh commonwealth yeag. Oh
commonwealth yeah. Yeah commonwealth yeah. Commonwealth yeah. It's to common to
me. I came down the street to New Zealand. Commonwealth. Commonwealth yeah.
Commonwealth yeah. Enoch Powell commonwealth yeah. Immigrants commonwealth
yeah. Market.

song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Valentine Tweets

Hi, are you my valentine?
If not, why I hear this symphony of silence—
Playing secretly drums in my heart:
Playing the piano strings over my emotions?
2
Hey, are you my valentine?
If not, why am I lost in your eyes
Swimming deep into your mind lake
Searching for my lost other half?
3
Oh, are you my Valentine?
If not, why this effervescence of excitement
Lights array of lamps in our eyes
Linking us in a luminescent loop?
4
Oh, Ho, are you my valentine?
If not, why emotions liquefy into tears
Why the rays of light draw rainbows in them
Why am I humming rhyme-less rhymes?
And singing lyric-less lyrics to please you?
5
Hey, hi, are you my valentine?
If not, why am I painting this silent symphony?
Composing music for the throbbing emotions?
Why am I finding harmony in the fusion of minds?
6
Hi, hey, are you my valentine
If not, why I miss you more than my I-phone
Why missing you more than my Facebook and tweets?
7
In the fusion of music
Being played out of the cacophony of feelings
Why are we feeling the fusion of love
Why are we enjoying the symphony of love
Why are we in bliss
You must be truly my valentine!
*******

poem by Kp. Shashidharan
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Soul Love

Stone love - she kneels before the grave
A brave son - who gave his life to see the slogan
That hovers between the headstone and her eyes
For they penetrate her grieving
New love - a boy and girl they talking
New words - that only they can share in
New words - a love so strong it tears their hearts
To sleep - through the fleeting hours of morning
Love is careless in its choosing - sweeping over cross a baby
Love descends on those defenseless
Idiot love will spark the fusion
Inspirations have I none - just to touch the flaming dove
All I have is my love of love - and love is not loving
Soul love - the priest that tastes the word and
Told of love - and how my God on high is
All love - though reaching up my loneliness evolves
By the blindness that surrounds him
Love is careless in its choosing - sweeping over cross a baby
Love descends on those defenseless
Idiot love will spark the fusion
Inspirations have I none - just to touch the flaming dove
All I have is my love of love - and love is not loving
Lai lai la-la la-la la-la la lai lai
La-lai la-lai la-lai lai lai lai
La-la la-la la-la la-la-la la la la-la la la-la la la

song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do you think...

Do you think that our love's vibration
And consonances will disappear in the oblivion?
I think that the flight started, where we first met
To give birth to our universe of meaning...
Our meeting was like a fusion of stars...
And our star's core fusion was for poetry,
And it was certainly for love....
Our divine love
Like the light, which glows more than ever
In the darkness of our pain....
So let my short absence be not death
And stay with me forever....
Don't leave me,
Just love me
And stay with me
Forever......

poem by Marieta Maglas
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Choose More of This As a Happening

You can turn your world around.
Turn it upside down.
And give it brand new meaning...
Without a hint you plan to scheme.

You can turn your world around.
Turn it upside down.
And give it brand new meaning...
Without a hint you plan to scheme.
'Cause scheming wont lift your voice to sing,
Paises, praises.
Scheming wont lift your voice to sing,
Paises, praises.
See yourself freed of petty things!
And want more happiness in life to bring,
Praises, praises.
Choose more of this as a happening!
Praises, praises.
Choose more of this as a happening!
Choose more of this as a happening!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Scheme

the scheme is concealed and you keep
it for a long time now
you murmur deep, deep inside you
like
you know well
how you sound
inert, inward, secretly whispering self
unto self
it is a pact between the heart and the mind
a fusion of the bodily and the spiritual
inside your sweet being
you take a deeper breath
whole and fresh
so slowly like savoring
a soul
this time you plunge yourself in the magnificence
of contented silence.
there is so much beauty
when light is finally turned off.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Three years after starting, by physically doing everything from raising the finance to special effects, we'd finally cobbled together our low budget film.

quote by Yahoo Serious
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song

'Why do I sing--Tra-la-la-la-la!
Glad as a King?--Tra-la-la-la-la!
Well, since you ask,--
I have such a pleasant task,
I can not help but sing!

'Why do I smile--Tra-la-la-la-la!
Working the while?--Tra-la-la-la-la!
Work like this is play,--
So I'm playing all the day--
I can not help but smile!

'So, If you please--Tra-la-la-la-la!
Live at your ease!--Tra-la-la-la-la!
You've only got to turn,
And, you see, its bound to churn--
I can not help but please!'

The farmer pondered and scratched his head,
Reading over each mystic word.--
'Some o' the Dreamer's work!' he said--
'Ah, here's more--and name and date
In his hand-write'!'--And the good man read,--
''Patent applied for, July third,
Eighteen hundred and forty-eight'!'
The fragment fell from his nerveless grasp--
His awed lips thrilled with the joyous gasp:
'I see the p'int to the whole concern,--
He's studied out a patent churn!'

poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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A poem records emotions and moods that lie beyond normal language, that can only be patched together and hinted at metaphorically.

quote by Diane Ackerman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To Enact

To use statistics like fanatics.
To control and to attack!
With one purpose to achieve...
The holding of 'some' people back!

To enact...
A meaningful existence.
To enact...
A control without resistance.
To enact...
A rule no one refuses.
No matter who's abused.
Or who's left to be confused!

To use statistics like fanatics.
To control and to attack!
With one purpose to achieve...
The holding of 'some' people back!
And this is done effectively...
To hide this as a fact!

To enact...
A meaningful existence.
To enact...
A control without resistance.
To enact...
A rule no one refuses.
No matter who's abused.
Or who's left to be confused!

To enact,
Like a coup...
A meaningful existence.
To enact,
As they choose...
Control without resistance.
To enact...
A rule no one refuses.
No matter who's abused.
Or who's left to be confused,
Or fooled!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Song Of The Croaker

An old frog lived in a dismal swamp,
In a dismal kind of way;
And all that he did, whatever befell,
Was to croak the livelong day.
Croak, croak, croak,
When darkness filled the air,
And croak, croak, croak,
When the skies were bright and fair.

'Good Master Frog, a battle is fought,
And the foeman's power is broke.'
But he only turned a greener hue,
And answered with a croak.
Croak, croak, croak,
When the clouds are dark and dun,
And croak, croak, croak,
In the blaze of the noontide sun.

'Good Master Frog, the forces of right
Are driving the hosts of wrong.'
But he gave his head an ominous shake,
And croaked out, 'Nous verrons!'
Croak, croak, croak,
Till the heart is full of gloom,
And croak, croak, croak,
Till the world seems but a tomb.

To poison the cup of life,
By always dreading the worst.
Is to make of the earth a dungeon damp,
And the happiest life accursed.
Croak, croak, croak,
When the noontide sun rides high,
And croak, croak, croak,
Lest the night come by and by.

Farewell to the dismal frog;
Let him croak as loud as he may,
He cannot blot the sun from heaven,
Nor hinder the march of day,
Though he croak, croak, croak,
Till the heart is full of gloom,
And croak, croak, croak,
Till the world seems but a tomb.

poem by Horatio Alger Jr
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A Recipe of Success

the pick is nothing, only a state of the mind that
foretell the next step; a goal of not to touch, sublime
the witnessing golden view of wisdom

life never goes longer and older, if the top
shows no weird of attitude, it’s simply a recipe of
wealth, bucket with ecstasy; lured to smell the fume
of treasure in the hand that grip the dust at the end

grit the stone of the mind and ponder till grain pour
out from the rain, no one has monopoly of time, only
the idle of waste in your dream and let the power of
inner passion fuel; to explode in your skill to reach
the ideal of your ambition

prowess sparks the ingredients of your goal, the
vision to drive each fusion of dream to conquer you
ideal, forward and crunch each minute; as the smoke
comes from the fire of success, for this day maybe
the future of today, until the direction comes no
more

save that belief, understand as you go and gone is
the past that tears will turn you apart; always be a
visionary, an eve of eye can always see the coming
morning glow

let each day be the zeal to sharpen the moment that
hear the calling Bell; whisper the wind, that your the
best, in the past and better for the future.......

poem by Antonio Liao
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We have such a mixture now, such a fusion of different genres.

quote by Ryszard Kapuscinski
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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