Latitude and Longitude
Years ago I learned about longitude in high school
It was, they taught, an important geographic tool
But now with my grown-up sophisticated attitude
I find longitude no more prodigious than latitude
With longitude and latitude I can travel across the nation
You know where you’re at when used in combination
But with total honesty I must confess
I’m lost one mile away from my home address
poem by Stanley Cooper
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Related quotes
Map of the World
I dragged the vertical and horizontal lines
Longitude & Latitude,
And where they crossed I found my critical position.
Oh! This peevish aimless boat
Still toss in the dumb Ocean.
Where is my destiny of this illusive voyage?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Forever Friends
On a distant domain of this globe
I know not on which crossroad
Of which latitude
And which longitude, she dwells.
What thoughts are brought
by the favorable wind
from the greatest of all empires?
What fragrance is carried
from the land of poetry and beauty
where my bosom friend for ever
dwells?
The quintessence of a divine aroma
grips me when am in the
tight tentacles of my friends'
immaculate personality.
I get a second life
of timeless longevity
as I tread and breathe the
air and listen to the whisper
of my friend coming from her abode.
As I hug the wind, the air the scent
that emanates from the soil and scenery
of your native
I get a surreal ecstasy in my soul.
Scarlet And Sheba
Scarlet wants to hold me, wearing just a red-veiled hat
Sheba's in the shadows waiting for her turn at bat
In the parlour where the lights are low
A vulture sister act, I watch their show
They're trying to kill me, want to pick my bones
Methodically, erotically
I just want your body, Sheba
I don't want your brain
Scarlet gets what's left of my remains
I just want your body, Sheba
You lock me up in chains
Scarlet, she can referee the game
Scarlet likes to scold me, showers me with all her love
Sheba's in a bad mood, sharpening her black fur glove
With blood and honey attitude
They'll never know my gratitude
I'm crossed with longitude and latitude
Upon my back... with a crack
I just want your body, Sheba
I don't want your brain
Scarlet gets what's left of my remains
I just want your body, Sheba
You lock me up in chains
Scarlet, she can referee the game
I just want your body, Sheba
I don't want your brain
Scarlet gets what's left of my remains
I just want your body, Sheba
You lock me up in chains
Scarlet, she can referee the game
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Voyage on the Dark Seas
I’ve seen all
I’ve heard all
I’ve absorbed all
Routine dawns fading into
Ruthless dusks into
Ravaging nights…
Haven’t I heard
Nights wailing like
An abandoned infant
At the street end?
Haven’t I felt
The leprous skin
Of the night—
Ugly and haunting?
Haven’t I heard
The palpitating nights
Breaking into an
Uncontrollable sweat?
Haven’t I seen
Nights showing defiance
In reluctant surrender
And cold embraces?
Haven’t I seen
Nights raise in rebellion
Against an unwilling body
And disinclined mind?
Haven’t I absorbed
Nights of callousness
Stomping me under
Hitler’s heavy boots?
I simply looked in disinterestedness
As night’s finger lifted with the pointedness
Of a cartographer to draw new lines of longitude
and latitude on the terrain of my skin-scape
I simply looked in passivity
As nights wrapped me in a blanket of suspicion
And experimented with my emotional
And bodily contours…
Haven’t I seen the ugly manifestations of
Dissatisfaction and jealous
And the elsewhere desires
Satiated through erotic zones?
This too I have seen:
Stark daylight mocking me
With its twisted lip
No longer, I said
No more, I warned
Enough, I pronounced
Of this seemingly unending
Lonesome voyage through the dark seas
And that too have I seen...
13mar2010
03.40hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Wild & Crazy Dude
You may think me insensitive 'n rude
Unaware I’m just a wild 'n crazy dude
So don’t get tough 'n give me attitude
Get over my talking a wee bit crude
I ask from you kind sir some latitude
ROTMS
poem by Ray Lucero
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Forever—it composed of Nows
624
Forever—it composed of Nows—
'Tis not a different time—
Except for Infiniteness—
And Latitude of Home—
From this—experienced Here—
Remove the Dates—to These—
Let Months dissolve in further Months—
And Years—exhale in Years—
Without Debate—or Pause—
Or Celebrated Days—
No different Our Years would be
From Anno Domini's—
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Coming From the Sky
Coming from the sky
The gyrating moments for all
Going here low and high
Till those luminous fall
Inside the fluttering bliss
The day of the evening goes
Everything that let to this
For all the fading glows
Yesterday was once new
Till it burned up in the evening
With the dark night to renew
And latest dawn to bring
Full of flowering and leaves
Of blossom’s speculation
With their longitude and briefs
Of its wordily education
Coming to this earth
Our wishful thoughts to give
Arrangements and its birth
That truly must grow to live
Nothing is new to be born
In every aspect of learning
Through revelation it’s worn
To every circle ways turning
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Love & Latitude
To love from afar
-Little tip-
Then to scurry and call
Your name to the sky
Through wires & machines
Across the continental
Drift,
Is like breathing
With a beaker for a helmet
-Suffocation-
And starves all the string orchestras
Playing in all the nations;
Love songs glowing in the dark
-Old-time radios gathered-
When I love what is
Not mine to love
It becomes the leak of love,
The foiled radiation
From a humming radio
Not tuned to love songs,
But to speeches of hatred.
I do much better with longitude,
Where one hat works for the same rain.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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I Sent My Child To School Today
I sent my child to school today
With his little lunch box
When he came home he said his friend
Had gotten the chickenpox,
I sent my child to school today
And asked him what he learned
He told me about firemen
They taught him how not to get burned,
I sent my child to school today
He said, 'Do you know what they taught me? '
He told me they taught him numbers
As well as his ABC’s,
I sent my child to school today
A smile on his face
I gave him a kiss and a hug
And said, 'See ya funny face! ',
I sent my child to school today
His smile bright and wide
But an older child brought in a gun
How did he get it inside? ,
I sent my child to school today
As in every day
But the child with the gun started shooting
The reason? No one could say,
I buried my child after school today
All I can do is cry
I lost my child at school today
And nobody can tell me why.
poem by Doug Hollywood Davis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sophisticated Lady (She's A Different Lady)
Written by Chuck Jackson, Marvin Yancy and Natalie Cole
Sophisticated lady, sophisticated lady
She's a different lady with a different style
She stands tall and steady like the Eiffel Tower
She is hip to politics but loves her jazz
She's got lots of rhythm she's got lots of class
Everybody knows how she got her name, yeah
Oh, ha, she wears knee length dresses with her high heel steppers
She's not no back stabber but she's sure a pleaser
She talks quiet and gentle, she acts very cool
She sticks close to her lover, she obey God's rules, woh
(Sophisticated lady) Sophisticated lady, yeah
(Sophisticated lady) Oh
(Sophisticated lady) That's her name, that's her name
(Sophisticated lady) Woh, woh
Everybody knows how she got her name
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah----
Woh--, oh, oh, oh, oh
She's the kind of person that you'd like to meet
'Cause she's always smiling and she's always neat
She can start a fire in the coldest man
She's a hip slick sister known throughout the land, oh
(Sophisticated lady) That's her name
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) yeah
Oh, well, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, hoo, that's her name
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) lady, lady
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) oh
Sophisticated lady, (sophisticated lady) ah
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady)
Ooh, ooh (sophisticated lady)
Repeat (Sophisticated lady
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Face To Face (feat. Linda Davis)
In the beginning
The nights were long
Under the moonlight
I could do no wrong
You told me
I was everything you wanted me to be
Then summer was over
And the nights grew cold
You got restless
And hard to hold
I tried to be
Everything you wanted me to be
Now you keep staring
At that open door
You got what you wanted
And you still want more
Well look at me
I'm everything you wanted me to be
Chorus:
Well if I don't keep you satisfied
You can't say that I haven't tried
And if I'm not what you want by now
For the life of me I can't see how
I'll ever be
Everything you want me to be
In the beginning
The nights were long
Under the moonlight
I could do no wrong
Remember me?
I was everything you wanted me to be
(Randy Sharp, Jack Wesley Routh)
Copyright 1994 Longitude Music Co.
song performed by by Reba Mcentire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Women & Men
Uh, uh, uh, here we go
say women and men, what a magic combination
women and men what a magic combination
women and men what a magic combination
tada- what a magic combination
said men and men what a magic combination
said men and men what a magic combination
said women and women what a magic combination
tada- what a magic combination
said you in a shirt what a magic combination
said Spock and Captain Kirk what a magic combination
said pain and hurt what a magic combination
tada- what a magic combination
said Ike and Tina-T
yo it was tragic
Pam and Tommy Lee
yo it was tragic
Your girl and me
yeah it's maagic!
what a magic combination
said whoo i like that magic combination
said whoo what a fine combination
said whoo i liked that magic combination
tada
what a magic combination
so women and men what a magic combinationx3
tada
what a magic combination-nation-nation
song performed by by Ok Go
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The human soul has need of consented obedience and of liberty. Consented obedience is what one concedes to an authority because one judges it to be legitimate. It is not possible in relation to a political power established by conquest or coup d'etat nor to an economic power based upon money. Liberty is the power of choice within the latitude left between the direct constraint of natural forces and the authority accepted as legitimate. The latitude should be sufficiently wide for liberty to be more than a fiction, but it should include only what is innocent and should never be wide enough to permit certain kinds of crime.
quote by Simone Weil
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sophisticated Lady
Written by chuck jackson, marvin yancy and natalie cole
Sophisticated lady, sophisticated lady
Shes a different lady with a different style
She stands tall and steady like the eiffel tower
She is hip to politics but loves her jazz
Shes got lots of rhythm shes got lots of class
Everybody knows how she got her name, yeah
Oh, ha, she wears knee length dresses with her high heel steppers
Shes not no back stabber but shes sure a pleaser
She talks quiet and gentle, she acts very cool
She sticks close to her lover, she obey gods rules, woh
(sophisticated lady) sophisticated lady, yeah
(sophisticated lady) oh
(sophisticated lady) thats her name, thats her name
(sophisticated lady) woh, woh
Everybody knows how she got her name
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah----
Woh--, oh, oh, oh, oh
Shes the kind of person that youd like to meet
cause shes always smiling and shes always neat
She can start a fire in the coldest man
Shes a hip slick sister known throughout the land, oh
(sophisticated lady) thats her name
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) yeah
Oh, well, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, hoo, thats her name
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) lady, lady
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) oh
Sophisticated lady, (sophisticated lady) ah
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady)
Ooh, ooh (sophisticated lady)
Repeat (sophisticated lady)
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Lamps Are Out
Every now and then I open the book
by Agee and Evans about those tenants
in the summer of 1936 living not far
from the geographic center
of the North American cotton belt
**All over Alabama the lamps are out**
Two stores, four houses at a crossroads
called Madrid, seven miles to Cookstown,
which landlords and tenants call home
and where three hundred souls reside
Children in school there stay alive
by one form or another of cowardice
or brutality or deception taught
by sick women or sicker men
devoid of natural honesty and vigor
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Mr. Murray (Strahan, Tonson Lintot Of The Times)
Strahan, Tonson Lintot of the times,
Patron and publisher of rhymes,
For thee the bard up Pindus climbs,
My Murray.
To thee, with hope and terror dumb,
The unedged MS. authors come;
Thou printest all - and sellest some--
My Murray.
Upon thy table's baize so green
The last new Quarterly is seen,--
But where is thy new Magazine,
My Murray?
Along thy sprucest bookshelves shine
The works thou deemest most divine-
The 'Art of Cookery,' and mine,
My Murray.
Tours, Travels, Essays, too, I wist,
And Sermons, to thy mill bring grist;
And then thou hast the 'Navy List,'
My Murray.
And Heaven forbid I should conclude
Without 'the Board of Longitude,'
Although this narrow paper would,
My Murray.
Venice, March 25, 1818.
Escaping Into Solitude
Escaping into solitude,
avoiding hunters’ need to roam,
I long for the latitude
to find my longitude, my home,
where the goddess who presides
over hearth and in the kitchen
born one week before the Ides,
lets me worship her and richen.
Michiko Kakutani reviews Diane Middlebrooks’ “Her Husband: Hughes and Plath: A Marriage” (Viking) in The New York Times, October 14,2003:
The portrait that emerges is that of a selfish artist who 'lived for poetry, with single-mindedness of the sort he had long ago discerned in W. B. Yeats, the first poet who ever seized his imagination.' Together, he wrote in a letter quoted in this book, Plath and he found a way to 'sacrifice everything to writing.' Without each other, he contended, he would probably have wandered off to Australia, and she would have become a professor and written books on the side. He told a friend that the marriage had been 'marvelously creative' for him for half a dozen years.
But he found it surprisingly easy to move on then, leaving Plath and their two children, when he 'wanted to be out from under her watchfulness, ' in Ms. Middlebrook's words. Because the marriage was an emotionally fraught and artistically productive relationship, the narrative of 'Her Husband' cannot help but fascinate, providing new tidbits of information and insight to anyone who has followed the melodrama of the poets' relationship and the scholarly deconstruction of their art and their lives.
The problem is that Ms. Middlebrook insists on subjecting Hughes's life to a relentlessly Freudian and often highly speculative reading, not dissimilar to that in her 1991 biography of Anne Sexton. And in placing Hughes on the couch she demonstrates an unfortunate tendency to overemphasize the autobiographical elements in his poems (at the expense of his imaginative transactions) and to gloss his actions and choices with a thick patina of psychological determinism.
She writes that the Hughes poem 'Song' is 'quite evidently a poem about the impact of Sylvia Plath on Ted Hughes, even if it was inspired by another woman and written more than half a dozen years before Hughes met Plath.' And she predicts that 'Hughes's access to poetic inspiration was eventually going to require two specific forms of rebellion against domesticity.' Both 'would be enacted against the women in his life, selfishly and sometimes cruelly': the first being an 'escape into solitude, ' the second being what she calls 'the hunter's freedom to roam, ' a need nourished, she contends, in his childhood, when he would escape his mother's suffocating hold by going out on the moors to hunt with his older brother, Gerald.
Hughes was a devotee of Robert Graves's book 'The White Goddess, ' which held that poetry evolved from masculine rituals of devotion to the Goddess thereby preserving humanity's connection to nature's cycles of birth and destruction. It is Ms. Middlebrook's theory that he found his muse in Sylvia Plath and that he saw their marriage as 'the doing of the White Goddess, ' which he was powerless to resist.
10/14/03
poem by Gershon Hepner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Transatlantic Westbound Jet
(elliott / sylvester)
Spread your wings, Im all set
Trans atlantic westbound jet
Heading out to jfk
Ill play my guitar along the way
Its the only thing I can do
Stick with me and well see it through
Make the most, without delay
Im gone tomorrow but here today
Travel through the nation
In need of stimulation, oh yeah
Travel through the nation
In search of situations, yeah
Boogaloo well walk on through
My prescriptions good for you
Be my guest and fly with me
Its a way of life, a high for free
Travel through the nation
In need of stimulation, oh yeah
Travel through the nation
In search of situations, yeah
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Listen to the mid night falling rain
Listen to the mid night falling rain
It has such a magic divinity sound
when it hits the tardy ground.
I am going now to spend some time contemplating and warming
The rain has stopped suddenly without any warning
As if it will not disturb me in thoughts of you
Or may be it is curious about the lines I owe
to you and to your pangs and pains.
It is good that it stopped with no regain
The drops of rain that fall in the dark of the night
On their way down without a guide of light.
The moon is shy and behind a cliff cloud it hides
They fall they tumble and bounce
Reaching every corner in the garden without announce
One from the lap of a balmy rose under the moon gloom
The other from the earring of unknown bloom
And the third just slide along the blade of a longitude grass there
To face a frightened rabbit in its lair.
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