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RAJ NANDY Sep 2018
Dear Poet Friends, Torin Galleshaw from Charlotte NC, a Member of this Site, had requested me to compose about the Rise of Third *****. Therefore, I have commenced with the causes for its Rise in my Part One posted below. Planning to compose Part Two with ******’s Blitzkrieg campaign of Poland later. It is unfortunate that I am unable to post related Maps & Photos for better appreciation of my Readers! Such options are not available for us here! However, I have managed to post a copy with maps & photos in the E-mail ID of my friend Torin!  Kindly give comments only after reading this researched work of mine, during your spare time.  Thanking you, - Raj, New Delhi.

            STORY OF SECOND WORLD WAR – PART ONE
                            RISE OF THE THIRD *****
                                       By Raj Nandy

                                  INTRODUCTION
In this part I shall mainly deal with the causes leading to the Second World War,
Which had also created favourable conditions for the rise of Third ***** under ******.
The word ‘*****’ derives from old German word ‘rihhi’ meaning ‘realm’;  
But is also used to designate a kingdom or an empire in a broader sense.
Historically, the First ***** was the Medieval Holy Roman Empire which lasted till the end of the 19th Century.
While the Second ***** was the First German Empire from 1871 to 1918, when dynamic Otto Von Bismark had united all of Germany,
Which ended with its defeat in World War One and birth of the Weimar Republic.
The Third ***** refers to the **** German Empire under ******, Which lasted from 1933 till 1945, for twelve traumatic eventful years!
Historians opine that the ending of a war is equally important as
its beginning;
Since the causes for the start of a war is often to be found embedded in its ending!
The First World War came to an end on 28th of June 1919 as we all know.
With the signing of the Treaty at Versailles by the German Foreign Minister Hermann Muller and the ‘Big Four’.  (Britain, France, America, & Italy)
Yet it is rather ironical, that this Peace Treaty of Versailles, considered as President Woodrow Wilson’s ‘brain child’,
Had sowed the seeds of discontent resulting in the outbreak of the Second World War, and Adolf ******’s dramatic rise!

Though several causes are attributed for the outbreak of the Second World War by our Military Historians.
Let me try to summarise those causes which are considered to be more relevant.
Commencing with the harsh Treaty of Versailles, the British and French Policy of Appeasement, followed by Hyperinflation and the Great Depression of 1929, and failure of The League of Nations to maintain peace;  
Are relevant factors which collectively combined resulting in the outbreak of the devastating Second World War, scarring human memories for all time!
But not forgetting ******’s forceful and persuasive eloquence which mesmerised the Germans to rise up as a powerful Nation once again.
Since ****** promised to avenge the humiliation faced by Germany following the Treaty of Versailles,
Which was drawn up with vengeance, and dictated by the victorious Allies!

THE  ARMISTICE  AND TREATY OF VERSAILLES:    
Armistice means a truce for cessation of hostilities, which provides a breathing space for negotiating a lasting peace.
Now the Armistice ceasing the First World War was signed inside the railway carriage of the Allied Supreme Commander Marshal Foch, in the Forest of Compiegne,
On the 11th of November 1919, sixty km north of Paris, between the victorious Allies and vanquished Germany.
But in the meantime naval blockade of Germany had continued, and the German Rhineland was evacuated and partly occupied by the combined Allied troops!
Release of Allied POWs interned civilians followed subsequently; And the Reparations Clause of monetary compensation was strictly imposed on Germany!
Now, following a wide spread German Sailor’s Revolt towards the end of October 1918, Emperor Kaiser Wilhelm-II had abdicated;
And on the 9th of November Friedrich Ebert, as the new Social Democrat President of Germany, authorised his representative to sign the Compiegne Armistice.
We should remember here that this Armistice seeking cessation of hostilities did not stipulate any unconditional surrender;
And the signing of the Armistice by the German Social Democrats, was considered as ‘a stab in the back of the German army’ by majority of the Germans!
These issues get repeatedly mentioned by Adolf ****** in his eloquent speeches subsequently,
To arouse the spirit of German Nationalism, and resurgence of the ‘Master Aryan Race’ of the Germans, - in Germany!

The Versailles Treaty was signed on 28th of June 1919, exactly five years after the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand which had sparked World War One.
Let me mention few aspects of this Treaty which was detested by the Germans!
Germany lost 13% of its land, 12% of its people, 48% of its iron resources, 15% of its agricultural production, and 10% of its coal, following its implementation!
German army was reduced to 100,000 men, its Navy reduced to 36 ships with no submarines, its Air Force banned, and its union with Austria forbidden.
Now to use a Shakespearean phrase the ‘unkindest cut of all’ came in the shape of Article 231,  the ‘War Guilt Clause’ of the Versailles Treaty,
Which provided the legal basis for the payment of war reparations by Germany.
The reparation amount of 132 billion gold marks (US $33 billion) to cover the civilian damage caused during the war, now had to be paid by Germany!
Thus the humiliation, resentment, and the virtual economic strangulation following the Versailles Treaty,
Was exploited by extremist groups such as ******’s **** Party.
And in the decades to follow, ******’s Nazis would take full control of Germany!

NOTES: Following Versailles Treaty, Alsace-Lorraine captured by Germany in 1870 was returned to France. The SAAR German coalfield region was give to France for 15 yrs. Poland became independent with a corridor to the sea dividing Germany into two. Danzing, a major port in East Prussia, became a free city under the League of Nation. Finland, Lithuania, Latvia, & Czechoslovakia became independent. Industrial area of German Rhineland, forming a buffer zone between Belgium &France,was
demilitarised.

WOODROW WILSON’S  14 - POINT PEACE INITIATIVE  & THE LEAGUE OF NATIONS:
American President Wilson was an idealist and a visionary, who in a speech to the US Congress on 8th Jan 1918,
Introduced a 14 Point Charter as a platform for building global peace, based on the principles of transparency, self-determination, and Democracy.
But for the first time in US history, the Republican-led US Senate rejected this Peace Treaty, and prevented America from joining the newly created League!
The US Senate wanted to retain its sovereignty without external entanglements;
Free from the League of Nation’s political dictates in its foreign commitments!
The Irish immigrants refused to support Wilson's Fourteen Points because Wilson was concerned about stopping WWI, rather than forcing the British to set Ireland free.
Many Jews also refused to back Wilson, since he was paying too much attention to the War, and not enough to the Balfour Declaration of 02 Nov 1917, -
Which promised an Independent Jewish State with a distinct Jewish identity.

The League of Nations had emerged from Wilson’s 14 Points on the 10th Jan 1920, with its HQs at Geneva, Switzerland, but it had no peacekeeping forces those days!
The League had failed to prevent invasion of Chinese Manchuria in 1932 by Japan;
Italy’s invasion of Ethiopia in 1935; annexation of Sudetenland and Austria by Germany!
The Axis countries Germany, Italy, and Japan, withdrew from the League subsequently.
Thus the League of Nations was disbanded in 1946 officially!
But President Wilson’s ceaseless efforts for global peace did not go unrecognised,
Since on the 10th of December 1920, he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize!
While his disbanded League of Nations, as the first global humanitarian organisation,
Continued to survive in spirit with the establishment of United Nations Organisation on the 24th October, 1945.

ECONOMIC CAUSES - FOLLOWED BY THE GREAT DEPRESSION OF 1929 :
Germany emerged from the First World War with loss of 25,000 square miles of territory;
Loss of seven million inhabitants, and a staggering debt imposed by the Versailles Treaty!
The Wiemar Republic, after abdication of Emperor Kaiser Wilhelm-II  to Holland,
For the first time in German history, established a Democratic Constitution with Friedrich Ebert as its first President.
But The Republic first had to consolidate itself by squashing the Spartacist Revolt of January 1919 led by the extreme Leftists, and inspired by the Russian Bolshevik Communists!
The Freikorps, in March 1920, an Ex-Soldiers Rightist Group, tried to overthrow the Wiemar Republic with support of their Rightist allies and their own veteran troops!
This was soon followed by a Communist attempt to takeover of the Industrial Rhur;
But fortunately, all these uprisings against the Republic were effectively subdued!
But the 33 Billion Dollars of Reparations hung over the Wiemar Republic like the legendary ‘Sword of Damocles’, followed by the Great Depression of 1929;
Coupled with the ‘Policy of Appeasement’ practised by the British and the French;
Became the most important causes for ******’s expansionist ambition and his short- lived meteoric rise to fame!

GERMAN PAPER CURRENCY & HYPERINFLATION:
Gold Mark was the currency used by the German Empire from 1873 to 1914 only.
But to pay for the costs of the ongoing First World War, Germany suspended the gold standard, and decided to fund the war by Borrowings entirely,
Hoping to pay back the loans after Germany achieves Victory.
But having lost the war, and faced with a massive debt imposed by the Allies,
Exchange rate of the Mark against the US Dollar steadily devalued and declined!
Papiermark became the German currency from 04th August 1914 onward, when link between the Mark and gold reserve was abandoned,
In order to pay for the ongoing expenses of the First World War with paper marks, which was constantly being printed!
But later after the war, when the London Ultimatum of May 1921 demanded payment of war reparations in gold or in foreign currency only,
Even more paper marks got printed by the Republic to buy those foreign currency !
By December 1922 hyper-inflationary trends emerged, when the US Dollar became equivalent to 7,400 German Marks, with a 15-fold increase in the cost of living !
By the fall of 1922 when it became impossible for Germany to make further payments,
The French and Belgium armies occupied Germany’s Ruhr Valley area, its prime industrial region!
French and the Belgians hoped to extract payment in kind, but a strike by the workers of the Ruhr area their hopes belied!
The Wiemar Republic printed more paper notes to pay and support the workers of the Ruhr area,
When hyperinflation had peaked at 4,210,500,000,000 German Marks, to a US Dollar!
Paper currency having become worthless, some form of ancient barter system began to be used instead!

STABILISATION OF GERMAN ECONOMY WITH ONSET OF  THE GREAT DEPRESSION:
Following the hyperinflation Chancellor Josef Cuno’s cabinet resigned in August 1923,
When Gustav Stresemann became the new Chancellor of Germany.
Stresemann’s Government had introduced the Rentenmark as a new stable currency,
To end the hyperinflation which had plagued Wiemar Germany.  
Rentenmark was backed by real goods, agricultural land and business,
Since gold was not available in a beleaguered German economy those days!
When One Rentenmark was equivalent to One million, million, old German Mark;
While One US Dollar was equivalent to only 4.2 Rentenmarks.
Though Stresemann’s Government lasted for 100 days only, Stresemann continued to serve as the Foreign Minister in successive Coalition Governments of the Republic,
Till his death in the month of October 1929, but working for the betterment of Germany all the while!
His ‘Policy of Fulfilment’ stabilised German economy with a 200 Million Dollars loan from America under the Dawes Plan in 1924,
Which had also ensured the evacuation of France from the occupied Ruhr area, with their future reparations payments ensured.
Stresemann’s signing of the Locarno Pact in London on 1st Dec 1925 with France, Belgium, Great Britain, and Italy, was considered as his achievement and a feat!
Since it made Germany to enter the League of Nations ensuring stability and peace;
While the Noble Peace Prize was awarded to Stresemann for his efforts in 1926!
Later, the Young Plan of 1929 further reduced German reparations payment by 20%, while extending the time frame for the payments to 59 years!
But following a sudden Wall Street Stock Market Crash in late October of 1929,
The American Banks were forced to recall money from Europe and the Young Plan;.
Which created acute financial distress when unemployment soared to 33.7%  in Germany in 1931, and quickly rose to 40% during the following year!
Lausanne Conference was held in Switzerland in 1932 by Great Britain, Germany, and France, to further reduce the War Debts imposed by the Versailles Treaty.
But in Dec 1932, the US Congress had rejected this Allied War Debt Reduction Plan completely.
However, no further payments were made by Germany due to the Great Depression;
And by 1932, Germany had paid only 1/8 of the total sum required to be paid as per their pending wartime reparations!

NOTES: Rentenmark was issued on 15 October 1923 to stop the hyperinflation in Wiemeer Germany. Reichmark was the currency in Germany from 1924 to 20 June 1948 in West Germany , when it was replaced by the Deutsche Mark; but had continued in East Germany until 23 June when it was replaced by East German Mark.
During the Stresemann Years of Stability from 1924 to 1929, (prior to the onset of the Great Depression), with help of American financial aid, created more housing & production in Germany. Dada & Expressionist Art forms flourished, followed by modern architecture; also the Philosophy of Existentialism of Thomas Mann – influenced the Western culture. Paul Whiteman's Band for the first time brought in American Jazz to Germany, and Jazz signified the liberation of German youth and women folks of the younger generation generally. But the US Stock Market Crash had unfortunately ended this short lived euphoria, and as it soon became a global phenomena!                                


FAILURE OF THE WIEMAR REPUBLIC & THE GREAT DEPRESSION WHICH BENEFITED THE NAZIS:
Last Days of Wiemar Republic:
Ever since Otto Von Bismarck that ‘Man of iron and steel’, united Germany into a single Empire in the year Eighteen Hundred & Seventy One,
For the first time a Constitution for a Parliamentary Democracy was drawn up in August 1919, in the eastern German city of Wiemar.
Wiemar was the intellectual centre of Germany associated with musicians like Franz List, and writers like Goethe and Schiller.
The Wiemar Republic of Germany which had lasted from 1919 till 1933 had seen,
20 different Coalition Governments, with frequent elections and changing loyalties!
Due to a system of proportional representations, and the presence of very many political parties those days,  
No single party could obtain absolute sole majority in the Reichstag Parliament!
The longest Coalition Govt. was under Chancellor Bruning, which had lasted for only 2 years and 61 days!     (From 30 March 1930 to 30 May 1932)
Now, to understand the reasons for the failure to maintain a Democratic form of Government by the Wiemar Republic,
It becomes necessary to monitor its ‘dying gasps’ during its closing years so to speak!
Since faced with the economic depression Chancellor Bruning had worsened the unemployment situation by adopting stringent and unpopular measures!
Thereby having lost popular political support, Bruning with the approval of President Hindenburg, invoked emergency powers under Article 48, to survive his last few months and years!
During the years 1931 and 1932  it is seen, Bruning had used this Emergency Clause 44 and 66 times respectively!
Thus his so-called ‘Presidential form of Govt.’ had undermined Wiemar Democracy!
If Burning was the ‘Republic’s Undertaker’, now remains a debatable issue of History!
But Burning’s vigorous campaign made Hindenburg to get re-elected as the President;
Thereby he had removed the defeated Adolf ****** out of the Presidential race!
Therefore, later when ****** became the Chancellor on 30 Jan 1933, Bruning had very wisely fled from Germany!

Following Bruning’s resignation in May 1932 came Chancellor Papen’s ‘Cabinet of Barons’ consisting of individuals who were not members of the German Reichstag!
While in the election of July 1932 ******’s **** Party won 230 seats, making it the largest party in the Reichstag.
But ****** refused to form a coalition with Papen, because he wanted to become the Chancellor himself !
Now General von Schleicher advised President Hindenburg that the German Army,
Would not accept Papen’s use of Article 48 to remain as the Chancellor of Germany!
Therefore following Papen’s resignation, Schleicher took over on the 04th of December 1932 as the new German Chancellor.
Schleicher tried to restore a democratic form of government to get the Wiemar Republic back on its feet.
But in the ensuing political power struggle Papen wanted to take revenge on Schleicher for his removal from power and defeat.
So Papen persuaded Adolf ****** to become the Chancellor, and retain for himself the post of Vice-Chancellor.
In doing so, Papen mistakenly thought that he would be able to reign in the self-assertive Adolf ******!
Papen finally made President Hindenburg agree to his proposal, and on 30th of Jan 1933,
****** became the New Chancellor, with approval of the President!
A month later a sudden fire in the Reichstag made ****** invoke Article 48, in order to squash the suspected Left Wing Communists;
But while doing so, the Press was muzzled, and many Civil Rights of the German people were abolished, inclusive of their right of assembly and free speech!
****** acted swiftly, and by passing the Enabling Act on 23 March, 1933, armed himself  with dictatorial powers for enacting laws without the approval of the Reichstag whenever necessary!
Thereby ****** threw Democracy to History’s wasteland most unfortunately!
Following the death of Hindenburg on 29 June 1934, ****** combined the powers of the President and the Chancellor, and became known as the FUHRER!
Historians generally agree the Enabling Act of 1933, as the date for establishment of The German Third *****.

THE POLICY OF APPEASEMENT AND GERMAN AGGRESSION:
The horrors of trench warfare with the rattling of machine guns and bursting of poisonous nerve gas shells,
Even after 20 years remained fresh, in the minds of all World War One participants!
Therefore, it was natural for British and French Prime Ministers Neville Chamberlain and Edouard Daladier initially,
To grant political and material concessions to an aggressive Germany, for the sake of peace and stability.
Thus the diplomatic stance of Appeasement between 1935 and 1939 followed by the French and the British, was mainly to avoid another dangerous armed conflict!
But the trusting Mr. Chamberlain had underestimated ******, who had served in the German Army as a Corporal, winning the Iron Cross during the last Great War!
****** was not afraid of war, but wanted to avenge the Treaty of Versailles and its punitive dictated peace;
And also establish for the superior German Aryan race a lasting Third *****!
Therefore, having consolidated his power as the Fuhrer along with his trusted **** Party cronies, he withdrew from the League of Nations in October 1933.
Introduced conscription in March 1935 in Germany, and embarked on a mission to rebuild a new modernised German Army for combat on land, air, and sea!
In March 1936, in another open violation of the Versailles Treaty, ****** re-occupied the demilitarised Rhineland, followed by a Treaty of Alliance with Japan and Italy.
The much desired Anschluss (or merger) with Austria, the country of birth of ******,
Saw the German Army in March 1938, triumphantly and peacefully marching into Vienna!
Now with the Munich Conference of 19 September 1938, this Policy of Appeasement is said to have reached its climatic peak!
The Sudetenland area, consisted of 3 million Germans were made
to join Czechoslovakia when the frontiers were drawn in 1918-19,
Much against the wishes of the Germans!
When ****** wanted to annex this Sudetenland area, Britain, France, Germany and Italy, met at Munich to diffuse an explosive situation peacefully.
It was agreed at Munich that once Sudetenland joins Germany, ****** will not invade Czechoslovakia and honour the terms of peace.
But on 15th March 1939, in violation of the Munich Agreement, ******’s army invade and occupied Czechoslovakia, thereby openly flouting the Policy of Appeasement!

NOTES: ******’s desire for ‘LEBENSRAUM’ or ‘increase of living space’ for the Germans, commenced with his ‘Border Wars’, which soon turned into a Global War because of the ‘appeasement policy’ of the Allies. ****** had secured his Eastern Front with a treaty with the Stalin, since fighting on two fronts would have been very difficult for the Germans.

Now when ******’s army invaded Poland on 1st of September 1939, it became ‘the last straw on the camel’s back’ for the Western Allies!
Committed to the Anglo-Polish Defence Pact of 25 August, 1939, both Britain and France declared war on Germany,
Which I propose to narrate in Part Two of my Second World War Story.  
The Policy of Appeasement no doubt gave some time for Britain, to regain its depleted military strength,  but Adolf ****** had viewed it as a sign of weakness!
With Russia and America initially as non-participants, ****** became more confident and arrogant!
Thereby turning his border wars into a global conflagration lasting six long years.
When the use of advanced technology, resulted in greater loss and casualties;  
Which was followed by the holocaust and unprecedented human suffering!
I would like to conclude my present narration with a poem by English soldier-poet Seigfried Sassoon, who participated in the First World War on the Western Front.

DREAMERS  -  by Siegfried Sassoon
Soldiers are citizens of death's gray land,
Drawing no dividend from time's to-morrows.
In the great hour of destiny they stand,
Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows.
Soldiers are sworn to action; they must win
Some flaming, fatal ****** with their lives.
Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin
They think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives.

I see them in foul dug-outs, gnawed by rats,
And in the ruined trenches, lashed with rain,
Dreaming of things they did with ***** and bats,
And mocked by hopeless longing to regain
Bank-holidays, and picture shows, and spats,
And going to the office in the train.
…………………………………………………………………………
Thanks for reading patiently, from Raj Nandy of New Delhi.
  *ALL COPYRIGHTS ARE WITH THE AUTHOR ONLY
laurie Jul 2014
Family feuds you refuse to see this despair,
damaged relationships, something we just can't repair.

All of this drama it's wearing me down,
thinking of leaving this god awful town.

I can't take it no longer I'm tired of the fight,
worried sick your keeping me awake at night.

Your my mother not my child,
your off the rails you've gone wild.

Abuse your violent mentally ill,
you've tortured my mind I can't keep still.

I've tried and tried to help you get well ,
your beyond this now I really can tell.

I have my own family, got to live my own way,
I can't keep feeling hurt by the things that you say.

I know your trapped in this mental frame,
too much to handle, I cry with the pain .

Family feuds I can no longer connect,
it's making me Ill, myself I need to protect
Terry O'Leary Feb 2017
Awaking blithe each morning,
with eyes upon the World,
I wonder, are we mourning
with ebon flags unfurled –
or are they but a warning,
some draped like snakes and curled,
stray stars and stripes adorning,
sent from the netherworld.

I wander through the garden
with nothing on my mind
and say 'I beg your pardon'
alarmed at what I find
as winds begin to harden
and fate begins to grind.

Confused, I watch my neighbours,
they're wide-eyed, unafraid
to halt all useful labours
and join the death brigade;
the ritters rattle sabres,
the frail and fragile fade,
morticians tap on tabors,
the potentates parade.

The military blesses
(in tunics somewhat browned)
its crimson-stained successes,
hell bent and heaven bound.
Such scenes no more distress us:
a ****** battleground,
dissevered heads with tresses
and arms and legs abound;
the fourth estate suppresses
the heaps of bodies  found
(collateral excesses
discarded in a mound).

Society regresses,
now living by the sword,
with torture and its stresses
upon a waterboard;
a captive kid confesses,
his innocence ignored -
fallacious facts and guesses,
the guts of justice gored!

With canting vindication
a big brass bully brags
(with pearls of perspiration
and swollen tongue that gags)
of third world  subjugation
for gelt and oily swags,
of human rights' castration,
and on and on it drags.

The manifold migration
of refugees in rags
while searching for salvation
soon finds compassion lags;
uprooted populations
are fleeing from their flags
else dying of starvation
as naked hunger nags.

With trump cards politicking,
two little hands (all thumbs)
may send the Mad Dog siccing.
Insane! All sense succumbs.

Atomic timepiece ticking
until the Reaper comes
as Geiger counters clicking
drown out the droning drums.

Cast out for not conforming,
I wander day by day
to find the earth deforming
as nature wastes away,
with bees no longer swarming
(expunged with garden spray)
and ocean depths transforming
(neath plastic overlay).

With CO2 performing
the climate's led astray,
the atmosphere's been warming,
the grasses ashen gray,
eternal tempest storming
while permafrosts decay,
and ozone holes are forming
in deadly disarray.

The people profiteering
descend a slip'ry *****
destroying, never fearing        
of running out of rope;
instead they sit back sneering
“our wealth’s your only hope”.

Yes, Armageddon's nearing,
it's doubtful that we'll cope,
for Evolution's jeering,
she's scanned our horoscope:
we'll soon be disappearing
with whale and antelope.


           Epitaph

The multitudes were jumbled,
some milling ’round the mall,
while politicians bumbled
when bracing for the brawl.

The World around us rumbled,
our backs against the wall,
as bombs were tossed and tumbled
across our broken ball.

My kneecaps creaked and crumbled
but I, too proud to crawl,
took but a step and stumbled  
yet found no place to fall.

And no one heard me grumble
although I tried to call,
or maybe I just mumbled,
as strength began to pall.

Well now the World’s been humbled
I seek an urban sprawl,
but since the feuds were fumbled
there’s nothing left at all.
“I cannot but remember such things were,
  And were most dear to me.”
  ‘Macbeth’

  [”That were most precious to me.”
  ‘Macbeth’, act iv, sc. 3.]


When slow Disease, with all her host of Pains,
Chills the warm tide, which flows along the veins;
When Health, affrighted, spreads her rosy wing,
And flies with every changing gale of spring;
Not to the aching frame alone confin’d,
Unyielding pangs assail the drooping mind:
What grisly forms, the spectre-train of woe,
Bid shuddering Nature shrink beneath the blow,
With Resignation wage relentless strife,
While Hope retires appall’d, and clings to life.
Yet less the pang when, through the tedious hour,
Remembrance sheds around her genial power,
Calls back the vanish’d days to rapture given,
When Love was bliss, and Beauty form’d our heaven;
Or, dear to youth, pourtrays each childish scene,
Those fairy bowers, where all in turn have been.
As when, through clouds that pour the summer storm,
The orb of day unveils his distant form,
Gilds with faint beams the crystal dews of rain
And dimly twinkles o’er the watery plain;
Thus, while the future dark and cheerless gleams,
The Sun of Memory, glowing through my dreams,
Though sunk the radiance of his former blaze,
To scenes far distant points his paler rays,
Still rules my senses with unbounded sway,
The past confounding with the present day.

Oft does my heart indulge the rising thought,
Which still recurs, unlook’d for and unsought;
My soul to Fancy’s fond suggestion yields,
And roams romantic o’er her airy fields.
Scenes of my youth, develop’d, crowd to view,
To which I long have bade a last adieu!
Seats of delight, inspiring youthful themes;
Friends lost to me, for aye, except in dreams;
Some, who in marble prematurely sleep,
Whose forms I now remember, but to weep;
Some, who yet urge the same scholastic course
Of early science, future fame the source;
Who, still contending in the studious race,
In quick rotation, fill the senior place!
These, with a thousand visions, now unite,
To dazzle, though they please, my aching sight.

IDA! blest spot, where Science holds her reign,
How joyous, once, I join’d thy youthful train!
Bright, in idea, gleams thy lofty spire,
Again, I mingle with thy playful quire;
Our tricks of mischief, every childish game,
Unchang’d by time or distance, seem the same;
Through winding paths, along the glade I trace
The social smile of every welcome face;
My wonted haunts, my scenes of joy or woe,
Each early boyish friend, or youthful foe,
Our feuds dissolv’d, but not my friendship past,—
I bless the former, and forgive the last.
Hours of my youth! when, nurtur’d in my breast,
To Love a stranger, Friendship made me blest,—
Friendship, the dear peculiar bond of youth,
When every artless ***** throbs with truth;
Untaught by worldly wisdom how to feign,
And check each impulse with prudential rein;
When, all we feel, our honest souls disclose,
In love to friends, in open hate to foes;
No varnish’d tales the lips of youth repeat,
No dear-bought knowledge purchased by deceit;
Hypocrisy, the gift of lengthen’d years,
Matured by age, the garb of Prudence wears:
When, now, the Boy is ripen’d into Man,
His careful Sire chalks forth some wary plan;
Instructs his Son from Candour’s path to shrink,
Smoothly to speak, and cautiously to think;
Still to assent, and never to deny—
A patron’s praise can well reward the lie:
And who, when Fortune’s warning voice is heard,
Would lose his opening prospects for a word?
Although, against that word, his heart rebel,
And Truth, indignant, all his ***** swell.

  Away with themes like this! not mine the task,
From flattering friends to tear the hateful mask;
Let keener bards delight in Satire’s sting,
My Fancy soars not on Detraction’s wing:
Once, and but once, she aim’d a deadly blow,
To hurl Defiance on a secret Foe;
But when that foe, from feeling or from shame,
The cause unknown, yet still to me the same,
Warn’d by some friendly hint, perchance, retir’d,
With this submission all her rage expired.
From dreaded pangs that feeble Foe to save,
She hush’d her young resentment, and forgave.
Or, if my Muse a Pedant’s portrait drew,
POMPOSUS’ virtues are but known to few:
I never fear’d the young usurper’s nod,
And he who wields must, sometimes, feel the rod.
If since on Granta’s failings, known to all
Who share the converse of a college hall,
She sometimes trifled in a lighter strain,
’Tis past, and thus she will not sin again:
Soon must her early song for ever cease,
And, all may rail, when I shall rest in peace.

  Here, first remember’d be the joyous band,
Who hail’d me chief, obedient to command;
Who join’d with me, in every boyish sport,
Their first adviser, and their last resort;
Nor shrunk beneath the upstart pedant’s frown,
Or all the sable glories of his gown;
Who, thus, transplanted from his father’s school,
Unfit to govern, ignorant of rule—
Succeeded him, whom all unite to praise,
The dear preceptor of my early days,
PROBUS, the pride of science, and the boast—
To IDA now, alas! for ever lost!
With him, for years, we search’d the classic page,
And fear’d the Master, though we lov’d the Sage:
Retir’d at last, his small yet peaceful seat
From learning’s labour is the blest retreat.
POMPOSUS fills his magisterial chair;
POMPOSUS governs,—but, my Muse, forbear:
Contempt, in silence, be the pedant’s lot,
His name and precepts be alike forgot;
No more his mention shall my verse degrade,—
To him my tribute is already paid.

  High, through those elms with hoary branches crown’d
Fair IDA’S bower adorns the landscape round;
There Science, from her favour’d seat, surveys
The vale where rural Nature claims her praise;
To her awhile resigns her youthful train,
Who move in joy, and dance along the plain;
In scatter’d groups, each favour’d haunt pursue,
Repeat old pastimes, and discover new;
Flush’d with his rays, beneath the noontide Sun,
In rival bands, between the wickets run,
Drive o’er the sward the ball with active force,
Or chase with nimble feet its rapid course.
But these with slower steps direct their way,
Where Brent’s cool waves in limpid currents stray,
While yonder few search out some green retreat,
And arbours shade them from the summer heat:
Others, again, a pert and lively crew,
Some rough and thoughtless stranger plac’d in view,
With frolic quaint their antic jests expose,
And tease the grumbling rustic as he goes;
Nor rest with this, but many a passing fray
Tradition treasures for a future day:
“’Twas here the gather’d swains for vengeance fought,
And here we earn’d the conquest dearly bought:
Here have we fled before superior might,
And here renew’d the wild tumultuous fight.”
While thus our souls with early passions swell,
In lingering tones resounds the distant bell;
Th’ allotted hour of daily sport is o’er,
And Learning beckons from her temple’s door.
No splendid tablets grace her simple hall,
But ruder records fill the dusky wall:
There, deeply carv’d, behold! each Tyro’s name
Secures its owner’s academic fame;
Here mingling view the names of Sire and Son,
The one long grav’d, the other just begun:
These shall survive alike when Son and Sire,
Beneath one common stroke of fate expire;
Perhaps, their last memorial these alone,
Denied, in death, a monumental stone,
Whilst to the gale in mournful cadence wave
The sighing weeds, that hide their nameless grave.
And, here, my name, and many an early friend’s,
Along the wall in lengthen’d line extends.
Though, still, our deeds amuse the youthful race,
Who tread our steps, and fill our former place,
Who young obeyed their lords in silent awe,
Whose nod commanded, and whose voice was law;
And now, in turn, possess the reins of power,
To rule, the little Tyrants of an hour;
Though sometimes, with the Tales of ancient day,
They pass the dreary Winter’s eve away;
“And, thus, our former rulers stemm’d the tide,
And, thus, they dealt the combat, side by side;
Just in this place, the mouldering walls they scaled,
Nor bolts, nor bars, against their strength avail’d;
Here PROBUS came, the rising fray to quell,
And, here, he falter’d forth his last farewell;
And, here, one night abroad they dared to roam,
While bold POMPOSUS bravely staid at home;”
While thus they speak, the hour must soon arrive,
When names of these, like ours, alone survive:
Yet a few years, one general wreck will whelm
The faint remembrance of our fairy realm.

  Dear honest race! though now we meet no more,
One last long look on what we were before—
Our first kind greetings, and our last adieu—
Drew tears from eyes unus’d to weep with you.
Through splendid circles, Fashion’s gaudy world,
Where Folly’s glaring standard waves unfurl’d,
I plung’d to drown in noise my fond regret,
And all I sought or hop’d was to forget:
Vain wish! if, chance, some well-remember’d face,
Some old companion of my early race,
Advanc’d to claim his friend with honest joy,
My eyes, my heart, proclaim’d me still a boy;
The glittering scene, the fluttering groups around,
Were quite forgotten when my friend was found;
The smiles of Beauty, (for, alas! I’ve known
What ’tis to bend before Love’s mighty throne;)
The smiles of Beauty, though those smiles were dear,
Could hardly charm me, when that friend was near:
My thoughts bewilder’d in the fond surprise,
The woods of IDA danc’d before my eyes;
I saw the sprightly wand’rers pour along,
I saw, and join’d again the joyous throng;
Panting, again I trac’d her lofty grove,
And Friendship’s feelings triumph’d over Love.

  Yet, why should I alone with such delight
Retrace the circuit of my former flight?
Is there no cause beyond the common claim,
Endear’d to all in childhood’s very name?
Ah! sure some stronger impulse vibrates here,
Which whispers friendship will be doubly dear
To one, who thus for kindred hearts must roam,
And seek abroad, the love denied at home.
Those hearts, dear IDA, have I found in thee,
A home, a world, a paradise to me.
Stern Death forbade my orphan youth to share
The tender guidance of a Father’s care;
Can Rank, or e’en a Guardian’s name supply
The love, which glistens in a Father’s eye?
For this, can Wealth, or Title’s sound atone,
Made, by a Parent’s early loss, my own?
What Brother springs a Brother’s love to seek?
What Sister’s gentle kiss has prest my cheek?
For me, how dull the vacant moments rise,
To no fond ***** link’d by kindred ties!
Oft, in the progress of some fleeting dream,
Fraternal smiles, collected round me seem;
While still the visions to my heart are prest,
The voice of Love will murmur in my rest:
I hear—I wake—and in the sound rejoice!
I hear again,—but, ah! no Brother’s voice.
A Hermit, ’midst of crowds, I fain must stray
Alone, though thousand pilgrims fill the way;
While these a thousand kindred wreaths entwine,
I cannot call one single blossom mine:
What then remains? in solitude to groan,
To mix in friendship, or to sigh alone?
Thus, must I cling to some endearing hand,
And none more dear, than IDA’S social band.

  Alonzo! best and dearest of my friends,
Thy name ennobles him, who thus commends:
From this fond tribute thou canst gain no praise;
The praise is his, who now that tribute pays.
Oh! in the promise of thy early youth,
If Hope anticipate the words of Truth!
Some loftier bard shall sing thy glorious name,
To build his own, upon thy deathless fame:
Friend of my heart, and foremost of the list
Of those with whom I lived supremely blest;
Oft have we drain’d the font of ancient lore,
Though drinking deeply, thirsting still the more;
Yet, when Confinement’s lingering hour was done,
Our sports, our studies, and our souls were one:
Together we impell’d the flying ball,
Together waited in our tutor’s hall;
Together join’d in cricket’s manly toil,
Or shar’d the produce of the river’s spoil;
Or plunging from the green declining shore,
Our pliant limbs the buoyant billows bore:
In every element, unchang’d, the same,
All, all that brothers should be, but the name.

  Nor, yet, are you forgot, my jocund Boy!
DAVUS, the harbinger of childish joy;
For ever foremost in the ranks of fun,
The laughing herald of the harmless pun;
Yet, with a breast of such materials made,
Anxious to please, of pleasing half afraid;
Candid and liberal, with a heart of steel
In Danger’s path, though not untaught to feel.
Still, I remember, in the factious strife,
The rustic’s musket aim’d against my life:
High pois’d in air the massy weapon hung,
A cry of horror burst from every tongue:
Whilst I, in combat with another foe,
Fought on, unconscious of th’ impending blow;
Your arm, brave Boy, arrested his career—
Forward you sprung, insensible to fear;
Disarm’d, and baffled by your conquering hand,
The grovelling Savage roll’d upon the sand:
An act like this, can simple thanks repay?
Or all the labours of a grateful lay?
Oh no! whene’er my breast forgets the deed,
That instant, DAVUS, it deserves to bleed.

  LYCUS! on me thy claims are justly great:
Thy milder virtues could my Muse relate,
To thee, alone, unrivall’d, would belong
The feeble efforts of my lengthen’d song.
Well canst thou boast, to lead in senates fit,
A Spartan firmness, with Athenian wit:
Though yet, in embryo, these perfections shine,
LYCUS! thy father’s fame will soon be thine.
Where Learning nurtures the superior mind,
What may we hope, from genius thus refin’d;
When Time, at length, matures thy growing years,
How wilt thou tower, above thy fellow peers!
Prudence and sense, a spirit bold and free,
With Honour’s soul, united beam in thee.

Shall fair EURYALUS, pass by unsung?
From ancient lineage, not unworthy, sprung:
What, though one sad dissension bade us part,
That name is yet embalm’d within my heart,
Yet, at the mention, does that heart rebound,
And palpitate, responsive to the sound;
Envy dissolved our ties, and not our will:
We once were friends,—I’ll think, we are so still.
A form unmatch’d in Nature’s partial mould,
A heart untainted, we, in thee, behold:
Yet, not the Senate’s thunder thou shall wield,
Nor seek for glory, in the tented field:
To minds of ruder texture, these be given—
Thy soul shall nearer soar its native heaven.
Haply, in polish’d courts might be thy seat,
But, that thy tongue could never forge deceit:
The courtier’s supple bow, and sneering smile,
The flow of compliment, the slippery wile,
Would make that breast, with indignation, burn,
And, all the glittering snares, to tempt thee, spurn.
Domestic happiness will stamp thy fate;
Sacred to love, unclouded e’er by hate;
The world admire thee, and thy friends adore;—
Ambition’s slave, alone, would toil for more.

  Now last, but nearest, of the social band,
See honest, open, generous CLEON stand;
With scarce one speck, to cloud the pleasing scene,
No vice degrades that purest soul serene.
On the same day, our studious race begun,
On the same day, our studious race was run;
Thus, side by side, we pass’d our first career,
Thus, side by side, we strove for many a year:
At last, concluded our scholastic life,
We neither conquer’d in the classic strife:
As Speakers, each supports an equal name,
And crowds allow to both a partial fame:
To soothe a youthful Rival’s early pride,
Though Cleon’s candour would the palm divide,
Yet Candour’s self compels me now to own,
Justice awards it to my Friend alone.

  Oh! Friends regretted, Scenes for ever dear,
Remembrance hails you with her warmest tear!
Drooping, she bends o’er pensive Fancy’s urn,
To trace the hours, which never can return;
Yet, with the retrospection loves to dwell,
And soothe the sorrows of her last farewell!
Yet greets the triumph of my boyish mind,
As infant laurels round my head were twin’d;
When PROBUS’ praise repaid my lyric song,
Or plac’d me higher in the studious throng;
Or when my first harangue receiv’d applause,
His sage instruction the primeval cause,
What gratitude, to him, my soul possest,
While hope of dawning honours fill’d my breast!
For all my humble fame, to him alone,
The praise is due, who made that fame my own.
Oh! could I soar above these feeble lays,
These young effusions of my early days,
To him my Muse her noblest strain would give,
The song might perish, but the theme might live.
Yet, why for him the needless verse essay?
His honour’d name requires no vain display:
By every son of grateful IDA blest,
It finds an ech
ryyan May 2011
Once upon a time.
In a land far far away.
Their existed a rhyme,
About the greatest game ever played.
This is the said rhyme 
preserved from the acclaim the game has gained.
Passed on to generations about the game at it’s prime. 

A game that should be reclaimed from the fame its gained at the present time.
This game came from the brain of a person
who aimed to have the time of his life. 

Town ball was for all. In any season: spring, summer, winter, or fall.
Town ball was a ball for all: no despair, grief,  or strife, could spawn.
The rules were simple
Hit ball: bases touch all. 

Teams were never full. 
And the field could sprawl.
Everything was in play just like everyone could play.
No obstacle was in the way, no direction out of play.
Yet, according to the natural law of capitalistic America,
An evolution began to make money.
**** you Jean-Baptiste Pierre Antoine de Monet!!
You may have nothing to do with baseball, 

But you spawned the evilest idea of them all. 

That evolution is caused by natural law, 

and the evolution of baseball is the downfall of all that is America.
Baseball was at one time a game of fun; 

good times shared with one another under the sun. 

Eventually they agreed to decree the official rules, 

And it was not Abner Doubleday who would have the last say in history,
for that story is a myth that we should flee from like fools.
Instead it was Alexander Cartwright who penned the knickerbocker rules.
These rules spread to the rest of the clubs,
and eventually it was coined the New York game. 

No longer could anyone play but only the ones who could slug.
If you wanted to win, it would be a sin,
to put in the has been who brought the game shame.
This game spread during the civil war. 

In down time to escape they played for fun instead of being bored.
The game spread like never before,
and soon the game covered the entire eastern shore.
The N.A.A.B.B.P was formed and by 1867 four hundred teams were born,
and in 1870 the Chicago Cubs actually won!
They actually were good before 1908,
heck some people might even say they were great. 

I don’t mean to taint their slate or bait your hate.
I just wish to point out that its been some time since that date,
and you Cub fans still must await.
Meanwhile these gentleman clubs would compete in the heat,
for they wanted to prove they were the ones to beat. 

Yet promoters wanted money so they charged the food you eat.
Then they fenced in the meet.
No longer could you watch the teams compete from the street.
If you wanted to know who would defeat you must enter with a receipt
to show that you payed for your seat.
There you would meet, eat, and greet,
and keep track of the game on your score sheet
Eventually the wood frames turned to concrete

in order to hold more people inside their games.
And the players started to earn fame.
And eventually everyone knew their name.
No longer was the game a game for games sake,
instead it was meant to entertain the fame-craved.
All that matter was the money made at the gate,
and since then the game has never been the same.
Before players would score more and their would be less of a bore.
Fielders caught with their fingers the stingers thrown,
but for catchers that was absurd.

Before, fans would abhor to the idea of a fielder with a glove adorned,
but eventually the planted seed, grew steadily, and the fielders glove was born.
At first their was no web extended between the finger and thumb.
Because that would make it so easy to catch it would be just dumb. 

Yet, somehow the web spread and eventually it won. 

Now any *** could catch between finger and thumb
and the hand would not become numb.
This lead the dead ball era dread at the start of nineteen hundred.
And ego went to Owen Wilson’s head as he lead the league with triples.
Thirty six triples the record was set
and will never be broken it has been said.
But instead its embed into the unread
record book for others to go ahead and try to break with dread.
There were several reasons that lead to the dead ball.
First of all, the same ball was used until it started to unravel.
Second, was that you would draw a strike for every foul ball,
And lastly was the spit ball which would dance to any squall.
All these reasons made the pitchers un-hittable. 

And batters seeing their batting average fall
would take a bar crawl and bawl.
But then a savior came to us all. 

This man hit the ball so far that it would fall somewhere past Senegal.
The claims were esteemed that this man was best of them all. 

Yet, he was traded for money to fund a curtain call. 

This man’s name was George “the Babe” Herman Ruth. 

A pitcher turned outfielder because he was a great hitter is the truth.
The great bambino or Sultan of Swat,
nothing could stop him when he was hot. 

And he hit the dead ball era out of the park and it was forever lost. 

He had more home run’s as an individual, than any team,

Except for the Phillies who were good it seems.

Babe was the hit man

Pitcher he was no longer

The same change came

With this emphasis:
Babe Ruth symbolized what was

the rest of the game. 


They said pitch no more.
Sluggers are what fans adore
outfields became small. 


Power was the talk

Every team must have a guy
who hits with power. 


George “babe” Herman Ruth
and Lou Gehrig, the Yankee’s
became the very best.

Then the depression came and rained on the parade of the baseball game.
Yet, families with radio’s would listen to the games as a sort of hope. 

To escape from the world that they known. 

To escape to a game that reminded them of better days.
Then WWII came and stole away the players. 

Baseball’s talent level was now in multiple layers. 

and because of lack of talent Ted Williams batted over .400 percent
and Joe Dimaggio hit the ball again and again. 

for 56 consecutive games he hit the ball back to where it was sent.
Yet, eventually the players would return and baseball would mend. 

But not before the ladies got their own league. 

and men it did intrigue.
Is this for real?
Or a joke?
They would laugh.

Then they would choke. 

When they saw that this wasn’t just an act.
The girls continued,
“Everyone used to be able to play the good old town ball game!
“This is no longer town ball,” the men said, “the present game is not the same,
Instead its now played for money and fame.”

Oh how the good old days always change.

“Give us money” the women exclaimed,
“We’ll take your fortune we’ll take your fame!”

Some men said, “you complain! Its not the same,
you have to be good to play this game,
you can have your separate league if you need,
But this game of fame is only for white men of age!”

Oh how problems never change
Instead they always stay the same.
Yet, it wouldn’t be long
Before the trumpet would sing its song. 

That segregation would possibly end. 

Not for women but for African Americans. 

Segregation had always gone on. 

***** leagues rose up, but finally segregation’s time was gone 

due to a man named Jackie Robinson. 

And in 1947 he broke through with the Brooklyn Dodgers.
Because his team was convinced they’d make more money by Lou Durocher
Yet it came with its troubles because Not everyone on the team was happy 
And some fans were just down right ******.
Some teams such as our beloved St.Louis Cardinals even threatened to strike. 

They were not going to play if Jackie played because they had that much dislike. 

But Jackie and the Dodgers pushed through all the hate that spewed. 

Other players, managers, and fans  were rude, crude and would start feuds. 
Then they would brood every time Jackie’s name the roster would include.
But after awhile people would conclude that he was actually very good.
And after review others would start to include rather than seclude,

But this integration was long over due.
30 years till segregation could be totally subdued.
The lessons we learn are hard ones that is true. 

And it takes awhile for an entire nations perspective to take a different mood.
Now with baseball integrated the game be televised. 

This allows the money in the game to rise. 

The league now expands west; 

New markets they must test.
But hey! the players want some of this. 

They want to start a free agency. 

But this is the last thing the owners need! 

But the players want to be able to move between teams.

The players want money. Oh how things never change.
But the players got what want. 

They now can negotiate and the owners this does haunt. 

The game now is wrapped inside this twisted shame of money. 

Thats all any body wants so they find ways to scheme. 

Thus steroids came to the scene. 

Players now could be payed more if they played well. 

This meant that to hit the ball far, big muscles they would have to build.
In order to get that edge over everyone else. 

These players used steroids to get their help. 

Yet that was not cool with the public 
Because steroids put you at risk. 

They are dangerous at best,
and the league didn’t want to run the risk. 

Plus what about records that have stood the time test?
Are they going be broken now and no longer exist?

All because someone drugs themselves to have a bigger biceps and chest?
Someone please lay this all to rest! 

Baseball today is such a shame. 

Its boring with all of the commercial and pitcher change breaks. 

Something needs to change. 

Because its been turned into a sideshow. 

Thats the only reason why kids even go. 

To see the park, get hot dogs,
and baseballs that when put in the dark they glow. 

Then when you get home. 

you ask them what they remember about the game 

and they say, “I don’t know”. 

This game used to be interesting. 

But now I find my channels flipping. 

Even Golf is more fun to watch. 

at least they hit that ball a lot!
Baseball should but I doubt ever will, 

Get rid of all the pitchers it has to refill. 

No more pitching changes; That would increase the thrill!

Maybe players could hit the ball if wasn’t coming 100 mph every throw. 

and instead of pure talent pitchers had to use strategy,
of when to and not to throw 

That 100mph hour fastball.
Get rid of the sideshow. 

Then maybe kids would go. 

Maybe then we’d go back to being enthralled. 

Back when Baseball was actually Baseball. 

But I doubt it will because money is what matters now.
Sideshows make money so its always going to be allowed.
But I’d like to disavow
I’d like to dropout. 

I never really watched it much in the first place. 

but now I know of a better game.
Oh and one final thing to say. 

We should just go back to town ball. 

That game sounds so much cooler than baseball. 

You could really make some unique obstacles

Put in a fountain or maybe even a wall.
It just sounds like a lot of fun. 

I plan to play it this summer some. 

Everyone will be welcome. 

And we’ll have fun under the sun. 

And it won’t really matter who will win. 

Because its about having fun, building character,
and growing relationships
The end.
judy smith Sep 2015
In just a little bit, we’ll begin to see Christmas holiday decorations, which start showing up even before Halloween. And along with the strings of lights all over the place will be a set of emotions that accompany the presents we are supposed to give.

A recent question from a reader provides an opportunity to talk about gift-giving expectations for all occasions. In this case, an upcoming wedding triggered the gift dilemma. As part of a regular feature on family financial feuds, I will address the issues the person raised.

The background: The reader’s niece is getting married. The bride and groom both work part time. The reader relayed that her niece had dropped out of college after a year and a half. The reader checked out her niece’s bridal registry and was “kind of blown away” by the high-end items, including pots and pans that cost $200 each and Kate ***** dish towels.

“I sent my sister a gentle text about being surprised that Kate ***** even made dish towels,” the reader wrote during one of my online discussions, “and she responded saying, ‘Don’t buy her anything. I will get you the information on her student loans (which she has not been responsible about) and pay those down instead of buying her anything.’”

The gift suggestion about the student loans didn’t sit well with the aunt, who already is upset since she co-signed. “My credit score is down 100 points because of it,” she wrote.

The conflict: “There are many issues here to deal with,” the aunt explained, not the least of which is that when her own daughter got married several years ago, the reader’s sister did not give a wedding present.

She continued: “I know my sister has struggled financially since her divorce, so I didn’t let it bother me. It just feels weird to pay down someone’s student loans as a wedding gift. My husband thinks I shouldn’t pay down the student loans. I am inclined to pay down something, but also get her some small items (no Kate ***** dish towels!). Any ideas?”

The bottom line: Here’s the crux of the family financial drama: “My sister [is] basically asking me for money, when she did nothing — not even a card — for my daughter’s wedding.”

There are three issues as I see it: the student loans, the pressure to buy from a registry, and retribution.

The student-loans problem shouldn’t be lumped in with the whole gifting issue. The reader refers to the debt as “someone’s student loans.”

But those are her loans, too. When you co-sign, you’re not merely providing your good credit name as a reference. Paying the loans isn’t a gift. It’s her responsibility.

If I were the reader, I would sit down with my niece and talk about how we are going to handle the debt going forward. It may be that she has to make payments until the niece is in a financial position to pick them back up.

As for the gift registry, some people list big-ticket items they can’t afford, or they expect that perhaps a group of friends or relatives may share the cost. However, sometimes it does feel like registries are an excuse for the couple to be greedy. I routinely ignore what’s picked out if I can’t find something in my budget. A registry shouldn’t be seen as a mandatory shopping list.

By the way, just because someone is underemployed or having financial troubles doesn’t mean he or she shouldn’t want nice things or even brand-name items.

Now, let’s address the core issue here. The reader is hurt that her daughter didn’t receive a wedding present.

Gifts are sometimes interpreted as a symbol of what people think of you. But if the reader’s sister and niece attended the wedding and wished the bride and groom well, shouldn’t that count for as much as, if not more than, some gaudy gift?

As Judith Martin, the etiquette columnist known as “Miss Manners,” says, a wedding invitation is not an invoice. Yes, it’s a thoughtful gesture when people give. Nonetheless, be careful about your sense of entitlement whether it’s for a wedding or the holiday season.

I believe it’s our presence — not presents — that matters most.

You might wonder: Well, should the reader in return simply attend the wedding and wish the couple well?

If she doesn’t give a wedding gift in retribution, that’s being ill-mannered.

Just because you didn’t get doesn’t mean you shouldn’t give. And if a family member fails to give, be gracious and remember it really is better to give than to receive.

read more:www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses

www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-adelaide
PNasarudheen Sep 2013
ODE TO  RIOTERS
The clouds rumble , O! sons of Malice ,hear
The smoke of arson and roar of lies
In the name of God in heaven; to the tune of lords near
Ignorant men  , followers of Dionysus fly like flies.
Think ! read ,what the history of man tells
Of fire that Prometheus brought for our happiness
But, ingratitude of satanic forces by  spells
Inflame the fire of Ire and burn the huts; brings unhappiness.
Tempters like Hera of Zeus pleasantly smile
Resting in Bars or legislatures , counting votes on computer screen
Echo of slogans on Equality, Fraternity, Liberty from a mile
Makes in social conscience  a  scathing scene.
The land of Buddha. Abraham Lincoln, prophets of peace all
Sent by God to every race and all clans dull,
Told the people all over to be kind
Loving ,lovable and of service mind.
(2).
O! political crookedness, in struggle for power  you tempt
People to compete and hate and conquer
By communal spirit forgetting  Divine Spirit and contempt
Religious heads and political aspirants together
Like criminals think and twist the holy ideas, even
They hold holy books in left hand and in right hand gun
And advice disciples to die and **** for heroic heaven
For them, as if death is an easy going fun;
The First Estate of France still as  impulses here in world
Reign the countries as rulers  of Democracy mocking
And they jointly exploit subjects ; and devotees of the spiritual world,
Misguide men and women  by prayers rocking
Hope of Heaven and horror of Hell
Make the people, forget all , and yell
When the villainous leaders signal by baton
The desperados become boys wanton.
(3)
O! devilish War-Lords, do you read Vedic Books?
What they mean ? for you mean? as they tell of God ,the sole Creator
The Creator of you and the “Other”  in your hooks.
The Preserver and Destroyer , may not be for you Pharaohs greater,
O! Pharaohs , you don’t  cause rain, make the Sun rise
And the greenery, birds and fish flourish .
When the Earth rumbles and tsunami rages you give the price
The rewards of hatred you sowed nourish-
All around ,as chemical war terrorism-a horrible nightmare
But, Epicureans! All are from Him and unto Him all shall return.
Marketing competitions and sale of arms cause the Wars
As history reminds us :none gained but failed to sustain peace;
Still, the blunder of division of people and exploitation stars
Rise , at the West with the dying Sun’s horses and Mars.
Politics and Economics -two horses of Civilization unbridled
Terribly gallop with men on them girdled.
(4)
O! cruel  egoistic  businessmen ,you globalize immorality
By greed, you trade with  fanatics and  terrorists,
Spur clashes: Multiculturism versus monoculturism  denying plurality
Challenging Eternity; certainty of scientists.
At Saranath,Lord  Buddha told  disciples on the Middle Path of  life
To Torah “The Lord our God , the Lord is One”, so Jesus taught us all
And guided to worship  God in” Spirit and truth “ in our life
No other Lord but Allah deserves worship of us all-
Allah is the Light of the Earth, and of the Sky ,O! Lord
God is the Eternal  Light  to illuminate all  ;to be worshiped
Bhagavat Gita says,"The body is the temple of God
In the Spiritual realm : all are from the One ,the  worshipped.
God is the only One without birth and death
The Unique unlike the creatures on earth
The Force is called “atma” by Vedas no trade and
Sciences  tell: it is Eternal  , cannot be made by human hand. .
(5)
O! the ill -taught  simpletons , think !why shall we spoil life
in feuds communal or political  for the luxury of masters
Suicide never a sacrifice; if at all ,it is beheading of human in life
At the altar of regal, egotist power-mongers.
The Only God is the  Seed of all; names may differ by language difference
Holy books use all noble qualities to the name the Supreme Lord
Then, why the sons of that One Lord, in repentance
Think on action : virtue  or evil and pray: forgive ,O! Lord
In democracy, we are free to believe  the God or not
Still, we can be human by refraining from paining others
Freeing ourselves from communal hatred, the vicious knot
As the political fences   encircle us that make us enemies of others.
Stars in the sky and the Sun and the Moon
Are mortal ones from God for our boon.
Let us be men and women loving all , serving all;
Not severing heads; but lead a life ,culturally tall.
                                             ***********
Note:atma=soul.
In the time between the worlds feuds
A mighty crash left our country subdued
Infertility plagued the land
While everyone put out their hungry hand.
People so fragile, plunged to their death
Not even taking a second to hold their breath
Women were forced to give up inside life
Turning to coat hangers, instead of surgical knifes.
While many men turned to a homemade noose
To be found in a closet by those they would lose.
Thursday became known as a blackened date
As a reminder of countries’ terrible fate.
High on the mountain, overlooking the valley,
the valley where I was born, is a wooden bench.
Standing to attention are the bottom of the deep V
are houses, all the same, all in a row.
From the bench the village can be watched
It's comings and goings, the neighbours gossiping
talking about nothing and everything.
Everyone is there down below,
John the butcher, Dai the milk, Mair the bread,
Oliver's shop, where anything and everything was for sale.
A picturesque Welsh valley, where everyone is actually
Psychotic, and where you'll never leave except in a coffin feet first.
Those of us that get out, stay out.
Old feuds still burn, families not talking,
not remembering how it started.
Chocolate box prettiness masks the tension,
the hate, the jealousies, the negativity held
in the ***** of the valley.
How green was my valley?
It wasn't green, it's colour was red, like a hell fire.
Oh, the trees were green, the mountain was glorious
but that valley was poison.
© JLB
07/06/2014
A seventies child
Born in Wales, one of the four
Countries of The UK.

I remember brown as the colour
of the day.
Fabric embossed wallpaper
all the neighbours names, who married who,
who was carrying on, the alcoholic, the beaten wives,
Even, get this the peadophiles (or kiddy fiddlers as was known)
Dai the milk, Mair the bread, the shop of infinite items.

Rugby practice for dad, baking for mam
(Cake and babies) gossip over the garden hedge
Fish on a Friday a Sunday roast, hot sweet tea.
Bubble and squeak, post delivered before you
left for school. Mist on the mountain, dew on the grass.

Welsh valley life, sounds idyllic
but scratch the surface and a darker colour
than brown emerges. Petty squablings leading to
familial feuds, the Williamses don't get on with
the Joneses, and as for the Pritchards, less said the better.

School, local, no not for me. I was sent to a Welsh
School, taught and learnt the language denied to my
Parents by English politics. Cat amongst the pigeons there.
Did I think I was special? Ideas above her station. That's what
the neighbours say.

Well, you all had the option.
Dr Forbes FRCS
Delivered babies buried men and women
Loved by all, especially his lollipop sweets.

I wasn't a child to get *****, or rip wrapping paper
off of gifts, I liked to go under the stairs (like Harry Potter)
and read. I left the dirt for my sister born 4 years later.
Then in 1982 came my brother, tidy my mother describes it.
'74,'78,'82 poor dad to have to wait I say!

More pubs than chapels, more walking than driving
more rain than sun, more music than ever was sung.
The '80's came, and we had strikes, no electric, candles
toast made with a toasting fork over the fire.
No mines, no steel, no jobs.

Picket lines, dole queues, women in work
latchkey kids, Thatcherism, ******* times.
Falklands war, IRA bombs, Royal weddings
Tory rule

But, the fire in the dragon never went out
and Tom Jones still sings his heart out.
Cymru cysglyd gwlad y gân, deffrwch
nawr, dyma'ch tro.
© JLB
Cymru cysglyd gwlad y gân, deffrwch
nawr, dyma'ch tro
Translation: tired Wales land of song, wake now, it's your time.
George Henry Jun 2015
I laughed in places
   Where Laughter was not asked for,
     In granite market towns
       Beneath refugee palm trees shivering.
                                    

Running from giant hands
That were covered in car wash fluids,
   The back of children's heads imprinted
     On their palms.

I laughed during disciplinary procedures,
  Before authority figures
    With cornflakes in their red beards
       And my laughter crept over the edges of their flowerbeds
         And the grass laughed with me.

I laughed at funerals,
The sounds of horses beyond the churchyard
   And a messenger ran down the aisle
    panting and exhausted,
     He had a message for my laughter
      ' Quick you must come at once'.

I laughed during marital feuds,
Laughter rising out of its own body
  above broken guitars and dried up bonsai,
   Above all the things I said
    That contradict me now.

I laughed during serious films,
The tulips drooping on top of the T.V.
   The sun slumped against the door,
     Behind heavy curtains
        I mistook for pigs on hooks.

I laughed over exercise books,
Above algebra and history
  Behind impossible bra straps
    That appeared out of acne and ink flicked backs.

I laughed at the swimming pool
Hiding birthmarks like stains,
  Drowning above the water saying
   'I am a fish I must get back in!'.

I laughed in surgeries among migraines
and told my mother that robots were taking over,
  in the same rooms where they removed my brothers' verucas
   And I saw the doctors small blade
     escape through the window.

I laughed during friends confessions,
In between the silences of repeated songs
  While pantomime dames walked past windows
     make-up running in black and yellow rain.

I'm laughing while making coffee in a campervan,
I'm laughing because its a monday morning,
  Because everyone else is busy,
   Because we have an oil lamp from a pound-shop
    Burning beneath the sound of rain on the roof,
     Because the radio's silent…..

And because sausages are best done slowly.
Deepsha Jul 2012
Screeeeeeeechhh!
Thud!
Silence!
Hearts stopped
Faces turned
Jaws dropped
Prayers began

He left his assembled bricks and wood and furniture
and ran
ran towards the sunset
with nothing
but his silhouette following him
even years later
it felt like yesterday
possessed
he ran as fast as he could

Prayers began
blurry shapes hoarded around the car
his eyes refused to close
against the horror
of what lay beside
his high crushed
into water
his delusion failed him
his brain froze

He ran as fast as he could
to the beach
wanting to walk into the water
wanting to stop breathing
seeking unfathomable peace
that final peace

His brain froze
get out of the car
people shouted
was a life lost
he didn’t dare to find out
he just wanted
a few seconds back
just a few
seconds
back
please

That final peace
eluded him
waves silenced
by his cornucopia of emotions
his eyes now refused to open
the saltiness of the beach
was overcome
by tears
that flowed in secrecy
inflaming everything within reach
embracing his cheeks
toying with his lips

Please
callanambulance
sheisbleeding
somebody
tieyourshirta­roundherbleedinghead
isittoolate
is it too late

Toying with his lips
tears turning into questions
could I ever forgive myself
his sobbing heart
didn't acknowledge the question
it just faded
he lived
with himself
he died within

Is it too late
his wife asked
holding his hands
breathing heavily
her eyes averred
every moment that they shared
their feuds
their make ups
their teasing
their loving
her eyes were done speaking
and now they rested

He died within
wailing like a baby
he slept there
with parched eyes
reminiscing her parting words
etched in his heart
etched so deep
that it bled internally
bled and ached
to release a shriek through muteness
muteness, deafening
deafening his emotions
making them oblivious to his existence
his fists clenching
the vacuum of solitude
the moon and waves began their tango
and the water rose
higher and higher
embracing him within
maimed to be saved
releasing a gushing hymn
for she was now deemed
forever with him.
It was either whole or just the last, I'm still confused. But didn't feel like throwing away what I started with however bad or elaborate the start felt. (silly attachments)
Aden Burns Apr 2015
In taming fire,
Tongues often burn.
Fire cannot be,
Unless it takes in return.
Trevor Gates Mar 2013
On a night like this, of full-moon bliss
Of the midnight winds and collecting mists
I remained, forevermore
Chained, to the floor
A victim of joy’s…goodbye kiss

In a dungeon I lie, hidden from the sky
A shadow untamed with vile red eyes
I waited, I hungered
Without proper slumber
In my mistress’ pit, awaiting time

It was from lust and desire to fuel and empower
For whom she wishes for me to devour
I restrained, she teased
I grew hard, to please
The widowed Countess: my dark sire.

Though my story may seem bleak
But not to those, whom morally weak
A tale, a fable
However which label
Entitles this to civilized freaks

I moved from town to town, home to home
In search of a life wherever I would roam.
At last, I came
To an estate of name
Belonging to a Countess of ancestral Rome

Countess Donatella, eyed my work and demeanor
From afar I could tell, I sensed, I smelled her
Her scent, so tempting
Was she attempting…
To allure my beastly form into something beneath her?

One night she called for me, alone in her quarters
She treated me to delicacies from rich exporters
She asked my name
I said none, I refrained
“Mysterious and Strong.” She said in order.

She walked over, to the silk on the bed
Colored in gold and shimmering red
Curling her finger
To me, and eager
“Remove your clothes” the Countess said

I did as I was told. I abide her command.
She seduced like a mistress of the eternally ******
Caressing my skin
Licking my chin
And instructed me to please her demands.

My strength increased as I ripped apart her dress
“Yes, my dear, rough and brute.” She stressed
My *** throbbing
Her head bobbing
She turned into an animal I could not resist

Through the night our lust ignited
Into a furious intoxication, organs united
A symphonic ******
Winds, rain and thunder
Matching the sweltering copulation benighted

In the glow of after, past the ****** she gathered
Breathing deeply she said, “You are mine. I am master”
For too long, I thought
I was ridden of what I sought
One to counter my thirst for lust, the tiring caster.

For many nights I swooned, I pleasured her in ways
No other human could fathom or reclaim
My art was of the flesh
And her succulent *******
Feasting like the dog of Hell’s fame

But in this time I feared
For my secret was severe
To show, to hide
My inner design
Of nocturnal savagery that is devilishly revered.

It was upon a warm night of *******
That the moon left me horrified and shaking.
I ran from the master
To evade disaster
Of displaying my transformational awakening.

I trampled in the woods and screamed into the night
The beast of the void howled under the moonlight
I ventured, I hungered
Awaken from slumber
A slave to Lycanthrope, a feral disease of might

The Countess’ workers hunted; “A monster!” they deemed
But I killed many before I was to be seen
Ripping, tearing, slashing, eating,
Guts, bones, skin, feeding
My viciousness, my curse, my bane and dream.

After my episode of moral slaughter
The workers found me curled in a fetal posture
I would have been killed
But the Countess, sealed
Me away in the cryptic tomb of her father.

I was left to suffer in the underbelly of my sins.
Shadows and demons moaning like the wind
My master kept me
Protected me
In her care I would no longer win

Now I lay, waiting for the my master to show
So the door above me will open and glow
The white orb
That will mourn
The lives I have taken, eaten and in my intestines flow

The tomb dungeon unlocks, creaking loudly with rust
The master, the beautiful Countess that I must
Please and satisfy
Penetrate, rectify
The punishment that was bestowed by the just.

“So you are known by many names.” She utters
I look up at her with eyes of thirst, my lover
“You are unique.
So much to keep
For myself, my beastly treasure and no other.”

She walks to the shadowed wall and pulls down a lever
And stands in front of me, **** and forever
A pale seductress
Her eyes focus
With mine, for I wait for the power that was severed

“Now I will be pleasure by that of a beast, that of a god.”
She says as she massages my erecting rod
“Now, my dear.”
As I hear.
“Enter me and leave me in pleasurably awe.”

With the chains around my wrists, ankles; my neck and waist
She mounts me in the moonlight space
Our sweat collects
Drips and specs
Glossing her pale skin and my ever changing face.

I stare into the moon as I ******, my moans of pain matching her voice
She yells from the seismic endurance, her dooming choice
To unleash my monster
With blood thirst conquered
No, it is not, it is her, growing with every other screaming voice

Moans of pleasure soon turn to moans of distress
The wolf of the night is coming, no less
My teeth protrude
My mind feuds
With reason and passion, where blood replaces the mess

My fur is black, my claws like steel
My fury is lustful, the deeper I feel
The Countess is in fear
I ignore her tears
And devour her, ravish her, take her skin and peel

Her lovely face is first to go, once flawless now disfigured
I tear her arms from her body, her liver in my teeth lingered
Blood, tears, flowing juices
Guts, gore, nail amuses
The laughing jackals and demons in a Hell for me that’s bigger

There is no more Countess. No more Donatella, nor master
The moon reflected in a red pool of suffering disaster
Of the ******* monster in our wake
Of the true one she had forsake
In the whims of lustful pursuit with death proceeding faster

Through the lubrication of excessive blood and ****** fluids
I slipped and broke from my chains and fled from the ruins
I remained the beast
Through the forest at least
And return to the woods, away from the her influence

I left the Countess estate as I arrived
Homeless wanderer who survived
Another full moon night
And devil’s sight
Of my life forevermore, the way of the morally derived

Where my nightmares are revived …

…Beyond my human disguise.
I was once working on a collection of interlocking short stories that detailed personal viewpoints of happening in popular horror stories. It would have gone through the Tale of Frankenstein's monster, to Bram Stoker's Dracula and to the wolfman, Invisible man and Jekyll and Hyde. Now it was only an idea, and now reading that description it sounds like a hash version of League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. But I would have changed it all up so it was different.

I never really got around to writing any drafts for those stories, but the basic outlines were always lingering in my head. This extended poem is base on the Wolfman outline I would've used.

I would be lying if I said that this was the intentional goal or writing this poem. It gradually became that. Sometimes if I have unfinished works that have met road blocks, then I try combining them. I've learned after awhile that it's better to have a few completed stories than several unfinished outlines just waiting for inspiration. The act of revising and combining ideas can really get the creative juices going. So that method pretty much birthed this poem, "Primal Lore"

You can find the other posting of this here: http://fav.me/d5xgbju
And if you like my work, like my FB page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Trevor-Gates/224601067564715?ref=hl
saige May 2018
the day ends again
so the feuding begins
because folks 'round here
like shooting in the dark
and my life's on the line
it whines behind my eyes
but my mind's on
wherever you are

it's been a lifetime of
long, long days
and even longer nights

so let me fight
for a fool
i've done a lot of things right
you can't deny
though i'm a fool
i'm still the last one on
your side
soon the sun will rise
and maybe i'm a fool for
laying down my life, oh i'm
just a fool, but i'll die
your hero any night
lord knows why
all this fighting for you's
keeping me alive...
brooke Jan 2018
well i would
disdain 'gainst
the McCoy name
to prove just how
much quarrel has
to do with what
you mean to me.
(c) Brooke Otto 2018
Ann M Johnson Jul 2014
It is Christmas in July
The neighbor's having  BBQ's
Inviting not just a few, but as many as they can fit
To roast Smores and sing songs around the fire pit
They even gave a poor boy a soft ball mitt
They fed some local homeless men and women too
They also inspired some random acts of kindness
I hope the trend spreads like wildfire
It is a wonderful time to put aside any family feuds
I don't know if the story will make the news

It is really up to me and you, to make it Christmas In July and all year too!
This is how it should be generosity not just ,on Christmas but all year long
Alexa Sz Apr 2010
F
Fathers faking false feuds
french folk fills fun facts
fringing fat failure flips Fredricks fame
Frappe from France
Fit from Finland
Far from Fiji
Flat fix from Florida
Fini finished!
betterdays May 2014
Now,
We are mellow.
Having spent the evening exploring the threads of friendship.
That had come adrift of warp, weft and weave.
Time and distance had
silks, snag-tagged-torn,
on the bustling-busy,
hectic-hustling of work
and family.

Teasing-taunt,
needle-gnawing,
small, gap-rip-rents
in the snug comforter
that is... the wonder of us.

Us, so many secrets woven. So many, nights of tissues and sobbing tears.
Darning in daring exploits. Cutting away knotted,
fear-angry-scream-fighting feuds.

Cutting work, for days of delight and nights of desperate yearning.

We used anything at hand, rough wools, pieces of string and twines.
To weave a blanket,
to hide us from life's storms.

We were,
so young, so strong, recklessly-brash,
stupidly-joyous
and braveheart-fools.

And now, time and age,
has softened our work. Felted and fuse-melded,
the fibres into a beautiful entity.

That we store-save in the heart's cupboard,
of special and precious  things.
It is an heirloom of sorts.
We bring it out,with occasional, humble-grace,
to be dandled and stroked with reverence.

Caressed and cossetted are our memories held within the abstract weave.

We are the dwindling
of a youthful exuberance
flung-thrown-heaved
to the wild winds.

So now, we are grateful to be curator-custodians of the retrospective nature
as we augment-append
and reiterate-repair.

A new thread here,
now,
embellish-embroider,embed
and tatt-stitch.
My son and your twin girls, squeezed, splashing
into your tiny bathtub
big-grin-giggling in the gurgling water.

Our future, here and now,
is the brightest of silks,

Our past, mellow and yielding in,
the luminent opulence,
angelically-asleep in,
the other room.
Big Virge Sep 2017
These rhymes ... Reflect ...
APOCALYPTIC Times ... !!!

Times where minds ...
are ............... Dismissing .................................................. Signs ...... !!!!!

That times ahead .....
Will see ... BLOODSHED ...
and ... Loss of Life ... !!!!! ...

Times where ... Crimes ...
Refine ... Bloodlines ... !!!!!!

Like ... " Old Designs " ...
Primed to ... " ***-id-e " ...

Apocalyptic ... times ...
Reside inside ...
Deep Seas with ... " Tides " ...
Now On ... The rISE ...
Just like ... The Minds ...
of ... WICKED ... Types ... !!!!!!
whose Pride ... DENIES ...
to help the ... " Plight " ...
of those who ... STRIVE ...
Just to ... " Survive " ...
and Live a ... " Good Life " ...

The Type ... who like ...
to see us ... Fight ...
Like ... " Dogs in Bogs " ...
Fed On ... WAR Songs ...
and Words of ... HATE ... !?!

A Time and Place ...
where ... Technological Tools ...
are used to ... School ...
our youth to ... Abuse ...
Like ... VIOLENT Fools ... !!!!!

VIOLENCE ... Will Rule ... !!!

Like DEVILS ... Who ...
Infuse with ... Views ...
That ... Lead to ... FEUDS ... !!!

Which would ... You Choose ... ?!?

APOCALYPTIC ... News ... ?
or a place where ... " Love " ...

REIGNED ... Up Above ... !!!!!!

Just like ... SUNSHINE ...
in the ... " Summertime " ...

Well ....
Rhymes Like ... " These " ...
Paint ... Different ... scenes ...

Scenes ... OBSCENE ... !!!!!
and ....... Far From .................................................................­..... Clean ... !!!!

Where ....
Peoples' Dreams ...
are ... "FILLED WITH" ... SCREAMS ... !!!

Am I .... SCARING You ... ?!?

If so ... Not Cool ... !!!

Why would you choose ... ?
to take ... The View ...
That ... What I Say ...
Makes You ... AFRAID ... ?!?!?

Apocalyptic Trips ...
May Well .... ECLIPSE ... !!!

The Place in which ...

Your Thinking ..... " Lives " ......

OUTSIDE ... "TheBox" ...
is where ... Mine Is ... !!!!!!

NOT IN .... " Laptops " ....
or .... VIOLENT ... Stings ... !!!

I Deal with ... NOW ...
and what ... Surrounds ...
Before i'm ... CLOWNED ...
and end up ... "Drowned" ... !!!!!

Or ...
Worse yet ... DEAD ...
Like ... Youthful Heads ...
As ... " Current Trends " ...
would now ... " Suggest " ...

In Fact .... CONFIRM .... !!!!!!

Does it make you ...
........ " Squirm ........ ? "
to Read ... Such words ... !?! ...

Well .......

Here's a ... " Verse " ...
to ... CALM ... Your Nerves ... !!!

They're ONLY ... " Words " ... !!!!!!

That show ... CONCERN ...
About the world ...
and how ... it turns ...

If we ... " Observe " ...
We may just ... " Learn " ...
How to ... STEM This ... SURGE ... !!!
of Pain and ... Hurt ... !!!!!!

and make a ... RETURN ...
to Life being ... PRESERVED ... !!!!!

Let The DEVILS ... Burn .......................................................

and Make ... PEACE WORK ... !!!!!

Like ... UNITY ...
cos' things like ... " These " ...
Will Help ... " Relieve " .................................

Our Streets of ... BEASTS ... !!!
And .... " POVERTY " ....

And .... News Stories ...
of ... KILLING Sprees ... !!!?!!!

Our Youth ... are DYING ...

Don't You ... SEE ... ?!!!? ...

These words are ... TRYING ...
to FEED ... Our Seeds ...
with ... Something MORE ...
Than ....... " MTV " ........ !!!!!!!!!!

BUT ....
Here's The ... SCORE ... !!!

Too Many ... " Elders " ... TOO ... !?!
are PROMOTING .... Wars ......
WITHOUT .... A Cause .... !!!?!!!

and NEED TO ... " Reduce " ...
Their ... ANGRY ... Moods ... !!!

" Don't try to front ! "

" You know it's true ! "

Why take the view
that I'm ... TOO BLUNT ... ?!?

The time has ... COME ...
to .... " Listen Up " ......
and Fill .... " Eardrums " ...
Like Kweli' ... Does ... !!!

with words that ... " Soothe " .........................
and HELP ... " Improve " ...
The Minds who ... " Choose " ...

APOCALYPTIC ... Moves ... !!!!!

Like ...
Dropping .... BOMBS ...
That Breed ... " Phantoms " ...
and .... " Tsunamis " .... !!! ....

Do you ....
Get The .... " Scene " .... ???

NO TREES ....
NO LEAVES ....

NO ...
Ice Caps left ....

Just .... WAR and DEATH ... !!!!!

I Guess .... ?
to ... " Most of You " ...

This seems ............................................................. " Far Fetched " ......

But ...
THINK IT .... Through ......

What's coming .... " Next " .... ?!?

FLOODING ... Here ...
and Flooding ... THERE ... !!!!

and then .... HEATWAVES .... !!!
that send ... SHOCKWAVES ... !!!

As Fires ... BLAZE ...
For .... DAYS and DAYS .... !!!!!

APOCALYPTIC .... Yes ... !!!

So ....
What do you say ... ?

Does THIS Poem ...
and it's ... Wordplay ...
Make ...  You Think ...

I NEED A ... " Shrink " ... ?!?

Maybe ... I DO ... ???

But here's the ... " Koo' " ...

Apocalyptic things ....
ARE ...... Happening ...... !!!!!

CLOSER ... to home ...
and that's ... NO JOKE ... !!!!!

Most folk ... are BROKE ... !!!
Or ... SNORTING ... Coc' ... !!!

With ....
NOWHERE ... to go ...
to find some ... " Hope " ... !!!

" OH I'M A PESSIMIST ! "

" If You Insist ! "

I'm simply ...

writing things ...
Through ... " Poetic Scripts " ...

That ... Reflect how ...

I Feel ...
Right NOW ...

Some Music ... " FILLED " ........
My Mind with .... THIS ....

Thoughts of ... GLOOM ...
and MUCH ... "Darkness" ... !!!!!

A ... " Discreet Flava " ...
DARKER THAN ... " Vader " ... !!!

Try to .... DENY ...
and you ... " May Find " ...

That ....
What You ... FIGHT ...
Inside ... " Your Mind " ...

is the ....

TRUTH About .........
What's ..... Coming .....

" Apocalyptic Times "
This Seems Rather Appropriate right now ! As I am currently residing in the Caribbean, these words are RINGING ... A Little TOO TRUE ..... Sadly .... !!!!
Big Virge Sep 2020
Now I'm An UNTOUCHABLE... !!!
UNLIKE.... Cliff Huxtable... !!!
Or YES I Mean... " Bill "... !!!

I'm UNTOUCHABLY... ILL...
When It Comes To My Will... !!!

I Lyrically ****...
Well I Hope... NOT ****.... !!!

But WILL- FULLY Build...
Verse That INSTILS...
UNTOUCHABLE Levels...
of Using Your MENTAL... !!!

Stencilled Pencilled...
... Mental Rhymes....

Kinda Like UNTOUCHABLE Guys...
When It Comes To The Mic... !!!

ME... Well INDEED...
Some Do Believe...
That I Flow My Rhymes Alright...

Now That's A Humble Line...
UNTOUCHABLY Designed...
To Let... YOU Decide...
If I Flow Like MIKE... ?!?
AIR JORDAN Like... !!!!!!

Well ONE THING I'll Claim... !!!
Is That My Wordplay...
Deserves A Place...
In Halls Where Fame...

ONLY HOLD What's GREAT... !!!!!

But Skill On A Mic' Is NOT A Claim...
I... Choose To MAKE... !!!

Because UNTOUCHABLE Names... !!!
DESERVE.... Such PRAISE...
In How They're Viewed...
And That's The TRUTH... !!!!!

I'm UNTOUCHABLE Yeah...
Just Like... " JERU' "... !!!

Because I've Walked Through...
Where... DARKNESS RULES... !!!

But Moved TOO COOL...
For UNTOUCHABLE Crews...
To... Want To PULL...
Their TOOLS And ABUSE...

Because They KNEW...

" Big Virge Is Cool !
AND UNTOUCHABLE Dude ! "

Because I Choose...
To Just... " Hang Loose "...

EVEN WHEN Violence Is Used...
Because of... Moods...
UNTOUCHABLY Crude... !!!

Where IGNORANCE Moves...
To... FEEDING FEUDS... !!!!!

I RISE......... ABOVE.......
So DO NOT Touch...
The... IGNORANT... !!!!!!

Because In TRUTH...
They're UNTOUCHABLE Too... !!!!

Because of How...
Their Energies Sound...

FAR TOO LOUD.... !!!!!!
For Me To Receive... !!!!!!!!
Because Like THIEVES...

They Feed DECEIT And ROBBERY... !!!
of Things I KEEP... UNTOUCHABLE... !!!

Like The Way My CHI...
DENIES These FIENDS...

A Chance of Getting...
TOO CLOSE To....... ME...

UNTOUCHABLE... IS...
The Theme of THIS Piece...
Because YES It's TRUE... !!!!

My Poetry Is UNTOUCHABLY....
A Way For Me To Offer YOU...
A Piece of..... ME.....

A Piece of My Heart...
And YES... My Soul... !!!

Now It Can Get DARK...
Like...... Al Capone...... !!!!!

But Shows MORE LOVE...
Than... GANGSTER Thugs... !!!!
It's More Like... " NESS "... !!!
When I EXPRESS... !!!!!!

NOT ELLIOT....
Or... Loch MONSTER Bred... !!!

I'm Just Blessed With A... NESS...
That Moulds And Blends In...

With......... " FINESSE ".......... !!!!!!!

That's ME... BIG VIRGE... !!!

So My Final Words...
In TRUTH... " ACCEPT "...

That When It Comes To...
... Government...
Their Court Systems...
And FEDERAL Friends...

They'll TRY Their Best... !!!
To Cause... PROBLEMS...

BUT NO Matter WHAT... !?!
They TRY TO.... PULL....
My SPIRIT Will Stay UNCRUSHABLE... !!!

So I'll... ETERNALLY Be...

...... " UNTOUCHABLE "..... !!!
YUP.... This was actually inspired by the, Bill Cosby situation, as well as my love for the movie, with De Niro, Connery & Costner !
Maddie Borisov Nov 2015
the intimate stares
2 A.M. reaching for me
late night conversing

the beautiful lust
fervent true kisses at dawn
drowsy morning eyes

the heartbreaking feuds
sleepless bickering phone calls
slamming sunrise doors

the dreadful regret
day and night dreaming of you
midnight drunk texting

the fresh beginning
the first date jittery hands
read from line 1 now
eleanor prince Nov 2023
Run... run while you can
before the envelopment entraps you
encapsulating escape with leaden clouds
skies darkened by searing missiles
unburdening caches waiting
for the stirring of conflict
so easy to hijack
as hatred
screams
loudest
drowning
out the pleas
of nursing mothers
as children's faces fend off
old feuds and avarice of arms dealers
sparked by grief over the slaughter and scarring of children and families due to avarice of war
Prabhu Iyer Aug 2013
An abyss that echoes shrieks of eagles circling above:
the moon lies smashed in her sunken depths by nights,
this pit of enveloping darkness, a vessel emptied of life.

Brick by brick, aeons layer her walls, who knows when
she was dug? she carries fragrances of primordial waters
gathered in the heart of earth to the winds of the present.

Long before Joseph's well, she stood when desert land
was verdant wood, and before the earth was tread
asunder by the chariot, this graveyard of the stars.

Plunder she has seen, and abuse as she towers over the past.

Not a wellspring, emptied dry, but a bowl abegging.
The bowl that gave a creed to a continent?
Caravans pass by disgraced crevices remnant
of that era, gone long of stone. Effeminate, she pawned
her bricks over for a life. Or a well to collect the dead,
frightened by the hundreds by the colonial bullet.

Rise and fall, she carries in her wheel of life, her spoked zero.
Of which yet arises a homespun yarn of dreams.

Darkness wells forth from this abysmal chasm, and her
waters cause feuds by brother to brother. Men of straw,
of whom in a few years, no trace would remain,
yet remain and the dove that flew the night a tryst was made
still challenges the jacketed savant on Parliament square.
A pair of inverted eyes guard the gates of darkness.

And now and again, you see yet a star
shooting out to the skies again from the waters: to the moon,
a mushroom cloud, a circling satellite, and an octet notes.

She's not one well: her waters brackish, are
a thousand islands, that came together under the shadow
of an empire on whom the sun never sets.
Count the roots of the banyan, trees.
Her sons grow weak and lumpen. Her daughters rise.
And so she endures, this ancient mother.

In her depths, on the day, when the star of David is reversed,
she endures the ******* reversed, that shined in her of ages ago.
Of men, two quarters great, arise from the same shadow:
The eagle on the west, and the dove on the east.
The not is the all, the zero is everything.
Eternity, two zeros conjoined.
Happy Independence Day - that's 15th of August to Indians !

The well, is a zero from the top, a spring at the bottom, a brick cylinder bridging them, a repository of the stars, an echoic abyss, a source of life...

In my mind I picture the well dug up at Mohenjo-daro in the Indus valley, where it is generally agreed, the story of India began - http://www.harappa.com/indus/11.html

'Men of straw, of whom in a few years, no trace would remain' - words from Churchill whose statue is on Parliament square in London, at India's independence in '47.
Taylor Martin Aug 2013
Homesick or just sick
Unsettled by the clock's tick
Thinking of posters on my wall, of furry paws in my face
Longing for familiar footsteps in the hall, for discussions of grace
I want fangs and feuds and cutthroat nights
Not to look over my shoulder between homebound lights
Homebound, not for months and seasons
I want to call but I have no reason
Even my imagination left some things behind
They lived at home though I thought they lived in my mind
Now I feel truly alone
But who wants to hear untroubled youth moan?
Not sick for home but sick for my friends
An empty ache I don't think time can mend
And I won't feel better locked in this new room
Knowing I'll be gone when hometown flowers bloom
December, holidays, so far from home
For a frightened foolish freshman who wanted to roam
Afraid to move forward and out
Terrified whispers and tears masked by shouts
Same album plays again and again
Hoping some peace will find its way in
Maybe
If I just take the clock off the wall
Time would stop, or go back, and we'd forget it all
Tie our highway hopes tight with small road ropes
And collegiate walks back to high school talks
Could I dream
Awake
Alone
With you
I know it's true
But I can't imagine that you're lonely too
Basically today is my second day of college and I'm nine hours from home and I feel ****** and I'm a little freaked out and lonely.
You know how my bio says "write more, filter less"? I mean it. This poem is incredibly unpolished and probably sucky but I'm posting it anyway.
Joseph Childress Oct 2010
I REFUSE TO LOSE…
Most dudes are confused,
Stuck between the two,
Wondering if the one is really you,
Or if their mind is playing tricks,
So they just never mind, which is a terrible thing to do.
It’s easy to walk away, and just say,
“I’ll try another day”
Or “I’ll try another way”
The answer is right in their face.
Fear of commitment is what it usually boils down to,
Afraid…
Afraid they’ll give you all their trust, just to get played.

But I’m not confused nor afraid,
See, I’m confident in my confidence,
I know that you’re the way.
You’re the path that god has paved,
And I won’t be led astray.
I’m not like those other dudes,
Confused minds have made them fools,
Fear filled hearts have changed their moods,
I’m smarter, so many mistakes, I know, I grew,
It’s altered my personality and my point of view,
On love, relationships and even you,
You see I’m ready to do, what I know have to,
Packed my thoughts, I’m ready to move,
But there is a problem between us being two,
And my love that problem is you.
Still I REFUSE TO LOSE.
Most girls know what to do,
Confident on who to choose,
No hesitation, no interludes,
No deep thinking, it would just prelude
To lose, who they wanted to give all their love to.
It’s easy to say, “We’re meant to be”,
“He’s meant for me”,
And “Just wait, you all will see”,
Or “I do!”, really fast, before the question has been asked.
Fear of loneliness is the problem
When you look inside,
Afraid…
Afraid they’ll be alone for the rest of their lives.

But those girls are nothing like you.
You're unsure what to do,
Indecisive with your decisions.
Your insecurity has you imprisoned,
Steel bars made from your blurred vision,
And you’ll never break the tension.
You’re not like other women,
Your mind is not confined,
It’s just your heart being blind.
You’ve made mistakes but have yet to grow,
Past regrets will stunt your growth,
You have to Learn, Live and Love to make the most,
Throw away those futile, feudal thoughts,
And let me show,


You don’t have to worry
About those problems and mental feuds,                                                                                 When you REFUSE TO LOSE.
Amitav Radiance Aug 2014
Let the playgrounds be there for children
Hosting games which are played fairly
Formative minds exercising for healthy future
Open grounds let’s them breathe fresh air
Embracing bonhomie and fair play
Giving equal opportunity and space to each other
Playgrounds will nurture the formative years
Learning to play with dignity throughout life
Growing up to be torchbearers of the nation
Healthy mind resides in a healthy body
Playgrounds be the venue for diverse congregation
Spreading the message that games are not trivial
So many feuds are resolved with dignity
Children can teach the art of resolving strife
A playground can be the hallmark for diversity
Giving equal opportunity to all the players
Let’s not botch up every possible place for our needs
In the name of development, only concrete structures
Only meandering roads leading nowhere
Let the playgrounds be there for children
Nike Kaffezakis Sep 2010
I always keep a wish list
I write what I want
And the price I’ll pay.
Be it a target for a twenty
Or love for an arm and a leg.
I’ll pay fifty for a new game
And my soul for popularity.
Music is a dollar a song.
Friendship is always priceless.
Racing suit costs me eighty
And family costs a few feuds.
The shiny new watch sells for forty
Success sells for just too much.
The only thing that’s ever free
Is the happiness that surrounds me.
All that cost is one’s own decision
To tell sadness, good riddance.
Sara Skora Oct 2011
the blasphemer and the blushing bride
have no recollection of things like pride
one detests ceremony while the other revels
in vows and prayers and all such spells
one waits for a day of celebration and rejoices
the other rebels against insincere voices
and if the two were to ever meet
or stranger still to share the same seat
all feuds might be forgotten for the sake of the truth
whatever one chooses to believe in one's youth
the importance should be placed on agency
rather than the pomp of unsavory pageantry
Big Virge Aug 2020
THIS Piece of Poetry...
Is To... My Mans'... !!!!!!

Whether GOOD or BAD... !!!

RESPECT To BADMan...
NOT For Being BAD... !!!

But For Staying TRUE...
To Their TIGHT CREWS...
Who Make STRONG MOVES...
That Have NO USE For KILLING Feuds... !!!!!!

Bad Man Who KNOW...
About How... " Tings' Go "...
And KNOW The Coup...
So DEAL In... TRUTH... !!!!!!!!

Men Like THESE...
Are A... Minute FEW... !!!!!!!!!!

So PLEASE Believe Me...
The Respect I Give Is RELATIVE...

Because The TRUTH Is THIS...
That's NOT How I Live... !!!!!!!!!!!!

My Mans' Have To EARN...
RESPECT From BIG VIRGE... !!!!!

So DON'T Expect Respect...
Because You've DONE... " Bird "...

RESPECT To My Mans'...
Who Use CONSCIOUS Words... !!!
In A... Hip Hop Stance...
or... Song FILLED Verse...

RESPECT To Charlie Parker... !!!
KEEP Flying... " Bird "... !!!

Through The Fingers of...
Todays' Jazz Herds... !!!!

And...

RESPECT To My Mans'...
In... Reggae Bands...

RESPECT To... " Rootsmans' "...
Who.... OVERSTAND'....
The Way... " Dem Ah FEAR !!! "....
When We Come NEAR... !!!!!!

ESPECIALLY The Mans'...
Who SEE... " Tru' Dem' Plans "...

I Gi Dem' My RESPECT,
til the day dat' me DEAD !

But Let Me QUICKLY STRESS...
Men Like THESE I Do Suggest...

Are RARE Like Policies... !!!
That ALLOW Such Men...
To Speak FREELY About REALITY... !!!

Men Like... MARLEY...
PETER TOSH and BUNNY...

The Wailers... THREE... !!!!!!!!

Who Chose To REACH OUT...
To The People With BEATS...
Musically FILLED With Conscious Speech...

Like... " BURNING SPEAR "...
For Di'... " Man Up In The Hills "...

A Place Where My Mans'...
Could TRULY... CHILL... !!!!!!
And NOT Adhere To...
... Government Will... !!!

Time Will Tell If Life's HARD SELL...
Will Let My Mans' EVER Live Life WELL... ?!?

This Piece As I've Said...
Is To... " My Mans' "...

Those Now DEAD...
In.... " Foreign Lands "...

FIGHTING The Fight...
And Taking A STANCE... !!!

But It's... ALSO To...
My STRONG Womans'... !!!
Who NURTURE Children...
And Give Guidance... !!!!

My Mans'... In TRUTH...
ALREADY Live Cool... !!!

And KNOW WHO They ARE...
Because They LISTEN To Views...
WISE ONES'... Impart... !!!

They're QUICK To Diminish...
What Weak Ones Start... !!!

But Do This With...
The... BEST of Hearts... !!!

But... WATCH Your Step... !!!
Because What Comes NEXT...
If You DISRESPECT...
Is... SERIOUS STRESS.... !!!!!!

So Show... RESPECT...
When You Are Around Them... !!!

Then MAYBE... Yes... ?
They'll Be Your Friend...

BETTER That I Suggest Than Get Them VEX...
And FACE The Prospect of... DISTRESS... !!!!!!!!!

My Mans' BELIEVE ME Are TRULY God Blessed... !!!
And DON'T Retreat From Lifes' TOUGH Tests... !!!!

Their BEST DEFENCE Is Common Sense... !!!

Which Formulates Their Arguments...
So YES This Piece Is Just For... THEM... !!!

NOT For Pounds Or For Cents... !!!

It's... Just For THEM... !!!
And For Crews Who Deal In TRUTH... !!!

If I Don't Know You Just Do Your Do...
Then If We Meet We'll SHARE Some Food... !!!

YES I Mean... VIEWS... !!!
Then I'd Imagine We Will Be COOL...

This Is For... " My Mans' "...
YES... ALL of YOU... !!!
Who Choose To INCLUDE...
Rather Than..... EXCLUDE.....

And Who Choose To Receive THIS Poetic Piece...
Which In Truth Reflects Love For HUMANITY...... !!!!!

And ALL Lifes' Tests YES.... REALITY.... !!!

A Part of Our Lives...
From Which We CAN'T HIDE... !!!

We're ALL Humans... !!!
So Why Divide... Our - Sel - ves... ?!!!?

I DON'T Believe...
That's Going To HELP...
MAINTAIN Our Health... !!!

My Mans' AREN'T The Ones...
Who'll BURN In... " HELL "... !!!

Because My Mans' DON'T Have...
THOSE...... " Funny Smells "...... !!!!!!

I Wish Them WELL...
WHEREVER They Dwell... !!!

I'm Sending Out LOVE With My Writing Hand...
Through THIS Poem I've Used To EXPRESS...

........ My Love And RESPECT........ !!!

To Those Who've HELPED Me...
Through Their WISE Guidance... !!!

THIS Piece of Poetry...

Goes To................................. ....

......... " My Mans' ".........
Listen Here : https://soundcloud.com/user-16569179/my-mans
Diana E Dec 2015
Wilting as bullets flee.
Open guns and unsettled feuds

April 20th, 1999.

Dylan and his pal are hanging around, coming closer with every breath

be careful-

they might hear the sound of your rapid-beating heart.
If only this was a perfect world
Where all could be set free
Where words were expressed
And read with love and devotion

If only there was never feuds
Where friends fell out at times
Where friendship was created
And it always reigned true

If only people could be equal
And forgive any injustice
So everyone could fit in
Instead of competing to win

If only poetry was that simple
To touch everyone in so many ways
That we could understand the true meaning
Where so many poems mean so many things

If only I could find the solution
To help make everyone find happiness
Where we love the friendship we have
Because then, I would find happiness too
copyright Chris Smith 2011
Maunica Kolla Feb 2014
Obsession
Watching you from distant, is an edgy feast
As you crawl in, like a feisty beast
I am forced to ignore all that’s around me
While the spirits wither and whisper
Tell me that you could set me free
Your tales from the battles
Your victories and conquests
Fascinate me all the more
You aren’t trustable, to myself I swore
Then comes out your witty compassion
That’s when I accommodate you in a whole new fashion
Try to make settlements with my mind
To my surprise, you are one of a kind
So blindfolded I become, wander alone in the woods
Trying to solve these perplexing feuds
You miss no opportunity to haul my attention
You compress all of my growing suspicion
The blend of truth and lie
I want to peek in and pry  
Engrossed into the evil within your heart
Now, only death could do us apart
Dark n Beautiful Feb 2017
The memory of you comes in different shades of gray
Like the Caribbean Sea breeze that stylized your hair
Saturated stain on my pink satin sheets
That was the moment when we knew that
Those two souls could never be discreet

Uncertainties heavily laden on my heart,
It’s a strange and confusing time to depart
In you her DNA float like acid rain:
fogging your brain
years of turmoil and silent torment:

Here I am lamenting with you:
You recalled that day when your light turned blue
You said that it felt like love and hate moving toward the kiss of death
The moment of truth landed like a erupt volcano on your desk

A God-fearing man, a gentle soul
Years of searching for motherly love, so it was told
Only to find Low self-esteem and low-grade fatigue
Trust equal lust: led to a fraud for a wife.

You hide your sorrow in your smile,
******* is nothing but a slow dying disease

Mother of your child, a son whom you once adore
They both put locks on the front door.
Then there is that woman from his past,
Oh, how she saves him from the edge of madness:  

Court full of lawyers, a judge on the bench
Fire and brimstones, infinite punishment for finite sins
The sun might shine but the camera will not flash
Because of a daunted woman,
Whose feuds are too hot to defuse?

Oh, the mad woman of sea view
She made her bed, now she must lie on it
Brick stones are stronger that old boards
From now on the shower heads will turn cold, before the sun goes down
The mist off the ocean should stink like acid rain
Abomination on the lips of lying wife:

One day shall easily crack: when the
Truth shall reveal itself
To be here, to be there, and not to be;
   Thou hath the whole rivers inside of me,
Thou art a night, a lonely sunny day;
   That hath melted my souls away.
To be thy blood, thy lover, thy asylum;
   To dwell within thee, to become thy poems.
Thou hath carried all my dried wounds away;
   Thou art meant for me, and I shall stay.

Their peaceful songs, too much noise;
   Titled feuds, crowned falsehoods,
My homeland, unknown to my youth;
   Stealing my sanity, my warmed voice.
Their music too, from a broken home;
   Telling me they would ne’er come;
My hometown, yet foreign to me;
   Adrift in bulk, losing my poetry.

To be here, to live, but not to see;
   Yet to be unchained, and break free,
Thou art a yard, a bush, a pear tree;
   Thou yield the whole love inside of me,
Thou stirred the birth of my presence;
   Thou breathed love to my concerns.
Thou art my reverence, my faith;
   Thou revoked my disgrace, my hate.

Their masterpiece, vainly serene;
   When they could sing, I was not seen;
Too common, like the youth about us
   Not knowing when life could go past.
Today shall end, but merely so
   They could not smell yesterday, no;
Nor shall their hard grieves glance further,
   Now, everlastingly, forever.

I long to be in tales faraway;
   That they shall not see me in today;
Not in winter, nor the heat of June;
   Not in daylight, nor under the moon.
Not in water, nor stark frost;
   They could not see me under their rose;
Then I could break free, I could see you
   To tell you about the truth, to give you—my love.

One island is too grey to me;
   To the southern edge of Earth;
If I said I could sail for thee;
   Would thou be my tree, my hearth?
But not to be here, ever and again;
    To clear my soul of their sold pain,
To be alone, but I could be fine;
    To head to the North with my mind.

One soil thought she was too charming;
    Nor that I knew them, that morning,
And in spring, their snarky heirs
    Bowed down to *** and stark roses;
None of what I did look fair,
    Nor the clean spruce of my prose.
Everywhere I went, just the ground
    Grinning kindly at my crusted sounds.

One land was too high, and glamour
    Encapped the heights of its odour;
Encompassing the love I had, and here
    This is the land of birth, but hear—
Love is felt nowhere close to me, so
    I shall be bound to the other I know;
I shall launch my sails, and my voyage
    Departs at time’s coming of age.

One ground became too proud, and he
    Lifted himself off the myriads of me;
The rebel, the judge, the jubilant
    The only consolation I wanted;
He could not catch in me, my sanctity
    And all love putrefied, and died.
To whom, that I became, still a mystery
    A waste, a wailing, a soiled story.

To run free, to breathe away from here
   To become the whole calls I hear;
Being the roads with stars and sunlight
   By the rosebuds of the Northern Light.
To be the prominent in me, and to thee
   That I come home, every day and night;
To be free to love, and blindly sing
    Until dawn comes to force, on chaste mornings.

To come closer, to be with you
    To drift away from wrong to true;
And call my love back again, from the woods
    Planted wild in mists and dreamful shadows.
To call you home, by the green fields
    With careened paths and gravel shields;
To be the poet again, the one I have—
    To embrace all that I once left.

To be thy finger, thy wrist, thy face;
   To be sole white and pure of lace;
To be the accessories of thy dreams;
   To be the wife of thy white nights.
When thou heard the frost, and screamed;
   My nights went more fearful then they seemed,
Too much fate and moist, poorly blended;
   My nightmares then ne’er ended.

To be the living, the door, the house;
   To drench the desires thou aroused,
To be the winter, the lilac to behold;
   To be felt as my love goes too bold,
And not ignored as I go beyond;
   Not to be halted, be scorned, be torn,
I have loved every day, every night—
   Then I have dreamt of your bluest sight.
  
To cherish my breath, my air, my chest;
   The living power of all our flesh,
The hungriness, but knowledge of my heart
   Not to take our exchanged poems apart;
For I have played my part, and kept my love
   For you, and as here ‘tis not enough;
I have loved, and unloved again
   My heart hath been a scorching pain.

To swim in this image of thine, and see
    Which memory I shall keep to me;
In which my arts shall come to presence
    From noon to night, and prevalent;
In which t’ere is only omnipresence
    With luminous pages, and their scent;
Too ambiguous too deny, clear to hate
    They shall admire it, though ‘tis late.

To be the vine, and grapes of thy yard
    To be the fine fruits of toil, so hard;
To be the last one to read the sky, that
    I shall still embrace, to the last.
Not to be here, in that life again;
    Only the sorrows and dramas of pain,
I shall soar for a greater gain;
    Feeding off clouds, drinking the rain.

To be the tales, rhythms of my heart;
    To admire from far away,
And unite back again when ‘tis time;
    All those cascades of madness and solitude;
Now, all smaller poesies shall rise and rhyme;
   Calling the same hymns and magnitude;
I shall be there, and not long now—
    I’ll stand still, and not flinch somehow.

To be the dress, the fashion of my love;
    My feelings now imitate the skies,
All emotions are moderate, and enough
    My heartbeat shall tell no lies;
Then, all torn sonnets cross my mind;
    At that time though, thou shall be mine;
I shall be there soon, tomorrow—
   Wait for me there, as thou shall know.

To be the kind, the temperate of my heart
   To be the pen and the poem, the bard;
All notions are justified, and seen
    It shall be autumn that I arrive in;
When, all stanzas clearly written
    And all workings exotic and firmed;
At that time though, thou shall see—
   All the loving and excitement in me.

To be the warmth, the sustained cold
    And the reason my sight still beholds;
All thoughts are visible, and bearable
    All daydreamed paths grow’n feasible;
That, all visions notably bound
    Thou shall embrace my tones and sounds;
With graceful moves, lithe and sleek
    I cometh to love thee, every day of the week.

To be the charm, the one in thy arms
    I shall surrender to Midnight’s swarms;
And be the one for thee, for the night
   Over all brief and lengthy sights;
There, holding thee all winter and summer
   A destination that lasts forever;
At that time soon, thou shall love me
   And my presence of eternity.

To be the destiny, on carpeted nights
   That magic works through our frights;
Making fears but a buoyant gift,
   And the beauty of the night so deep.
Holding me, lulling thyself to sleep
   A slumber to remember, too keep.
Thy florid hair falling into my face;
   Thy locks flirting with my embrace.

To be the envisioned, the right
   To be thy illusion, thy envied night;
And be the one who shall not fail
   I shall crumble out of my wooden shell;
To throw myself into that golden mark
   That becomes thee, oft’ by fall’n sparks;
To come with boughs of joy, and laugh;
   To fulfill thee with all my love.
JAFAR SADIK Jan 2015
Red ants
of unsettled feuds
ail in my cerebrum
and spinal cord…
dear friend,
give me the medicine
of poetry,
let get my blood cold…
Spread the sedative
of poem
before taking me the knife.
People seem to say, "Oh, it's totally fake!"
"Why would you believe anything you see them do?"
"It's all acting."
And that isn't entirely true, at all, but many people won't believe me.
Now, don't tell me I'm wrong, because this is my opinion.
I won't say you're right or wrong in thinking wrestling is fake.
All I'll say is, if you think it's completely fake, then I disagree.
And here's why.
I always ask those I talk to about this the same question.
I ask, "If wrestling is fake, then why do people actually get hurt?"
Then I say, "If wrestling wasn't real, then people would never get injuries that either cost them a few months, or force them to retire."
The reason why I always say this, is because wrestling isn't a joke.
I see people actually get hurt because they botch a move, or land wrong.
I've seen punches and kicks actually connect, and cause someone to get a concussion.
I've seen people get dislocations and broken bones, and wonder how long they'll be out for.
Sure, there are things that can be overexaggerated.
And I won't doubt that injuries can be purely storyline driven.
But, when the person is actually hurt, and needs surgery, how can you call that fake?
How is it fake if the injury causes someone to have to hang up their boots for a while, and go into physical therapy to recover?
How is it fake if it can cost people their careers, or their lives?
Remember what happened to Owen Hart?
He was supposed to come down from the ceiling, but the thing broke, and he fell all the way down to the ring.
People didn't know whether it was real or not, but he ended up dying from injuries sustained from that fall that same night.
Wrestling isn't fake, but it is scripted.
The storylines are scripted, I don't doubt that for a minute.
There are many wrestlers who have feuds on camera, but are friends behind the scenes.
There are people who act like heels, but are the nicest people you'll ever meet, or the other way around.
Mistakes are real, and the bumps they take will actually hurt.
There are things you can fake, and it does take acting in order to portray the right emotion.
But when someone breaks something while wrestling, and is out for a long period of time due to surgery and recovery, then it's hard for me to believe for a second that it's completely fake.
I prefer scripted, so that's what I call it.
Raw is on tonight, so I had this thought in my head, and decided to get it out.
Okay, that's my library post of the day.
I'll talk about something else tomorrow, or the same thing, I don't know.
I just write whatever I feel like, and I thought about this, so I wrote it.
See you tomorrow, bye!
Dark n Beautiful Apr 2012
While the children sleep
I learn from my immediate elders who taught me
the good, the bad and the ugly;
however, my strength is hiding deep within.
If only the pain weren’t so severe.

An ugly duckling who suffers Verbal and physical abuse
From the cool, pretty crowds of clueless incompetent?
You with your tawny hair, they often shout
Flat jacks with granny strap
String beans without the lean

So cruel; so mean those  terrorist sounds  
That goes round and round on the playground
While the children sleep  through the night
I play with night flyers
Golden wings and friendly flittering smiles we dance,
Into Twinkling lights of the meadow;
Late at night without the feuds or the abuse of the inferiors
I got teary eyes as I say farewell to my misty friends

Bigotry and hatred, Playgrounds terror,
  Children of the cornfields rules the inner cities school
Throughout kindergarten into high school

You must process the Skill of a tiger, speed of a leopard
Going to school going isn’t any fun anymore

This is the day of trouble, and of rebuke, and blasphemy: the
The children are coming to birth and there is not strength
To bring forth:(bibical)

— The End —