"potter" poems
The comic convention
has cardboard cutouts of
all of the main characters of
Harry Potter.
Harry,
Ron,
Hermione,
etc.
All motionless in a river of people,
glossy but worn down,
bathed in cold white halogen.
And one by one,
the cosplayers—
the Harrys
Rons
Hermiones,
etc.
Have their pictures taken
with the cutouts,
one cardboard cutout cut out
and replaced with a real human being.
Being human, we
crave companionship,
fear solitude,
crave solitude,
fear companionship.
We try to avoid becoming cardboard
cutouts of ourselves, but sometimes
a retreat into inanimacy
is what the animus needs.
The cosplayers continue to shuffle forward in line
each waiting to pose for a selfie. Each
politely smiling at the living Harry Potter characters around them,
but not striking up a conversation.
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 8:35 PM UTC
Outside of a bar in a North Carolina strip mall, stone cold sober because I am scared to use my fake, I feel drunk as you sit next to me. Perhaps I am. I'd have to be to think maybe, maybe, maybe, when I know, I know, I know.
Your hand brushes against mine, and you're saying the most beautiful words I've ever heard, and the fire in my heart spreads up, down, left, right. But it cannot spread just four inches outside of my body. It cannot set you on fire, too.
We listen to each other and hear two very different things. You are birdsong outside of my window that I am eager to hear; I am traffic outside of your window you've learned to tune out at bedtime.
If there are nine million bicycles in Beijing, then Beijing is my insides and bicycles are your name, because it is written on my insides nine million times. But there are no bicycles on Antarctica. There is no use for them there, just as there's no use for my name to be perched on a straight girl's ribs.
You tell me my weird hobby of listening to French rap music is awesome, that it's so cool that I'm teaching myself three languages, and that you want to be me when you grow up - I laugh, because you're several years older than me. Selfishly I catch every droplet of your praise. I ruminate on it for hours, for days. It means more to me than it should.
My name sounds like a compliment from your mouth. I try not to say yours too often, so you don't grow tired of me being around. If I can't set your insides on fire, I want you to want to be my friend. Even that feels like I ask for too much.
In every scene, I see you in the foreground of the narrative. For me, it would be on honor to be one of your background characters. Narratives are richer with them anyway.
I look at you and you are the Harry Potter movie marathon I wait months for. For you, I am the 2 am infomercial you fell asleep to. But I don't mind half as much as I should. Even white noise has its place in someone's life.
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 10:17 PM UTC
Don't think for a second I am going to wear a dress and watch Titanic or The Notebook with you- We are going to have a Firefly marathon whit too much food and I'll wear a hoodie, or Watch Mad Max Fury road, but darling, don't expect me to be like the other girls- on somedays I even ain't one, and even when I am- Star Wars and Harry Potter are still favorite- Star Trek and Supernatural, Sherlock and Doctor Who, so you better keep up with my geekyness or you won'the know when I love you.
I love you- I know
Because sweetie I am a geek and a fangirl ;)
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC
Isang mensahe na ipinapahatid ni "Ariii Potter" sa kanyang alaga na si "Hedwig" the Snowy Owl.
Sa naghihimultong pagmamahal ko sayo.
Mahal.. oo, mahal nga ang tawag ko sayo
Nagbunga kasi ang pagkagusto ko sayo,
Nagbunga ng isang pagmaMahal
Yung feeling na "gusto kita"
Naging "mahal na kita" real quick
Inakala ko talaga sa diagon alley ka lang gumagala
Eh bat ka na sorted dito sa puso ko
Bakit nga ba..
Patawad sa mga katagang sinabi ko, ay mali. hindi ko lang pala sinabi.
Ipinagsigawan ko pa. Ang corny no?
Pero...
Pagbigyan mo sana ako na ihatid ang mga salitang gustong ipabatid ng puso ko
Idadaan ko lang muna sa isang tula.
--
Umpisa.
Sa kung paano mo ako nginitian
At tinanong kung "potterhead kaba?"
Hindi ko alam kung ginamitan mo ako ng "petrificus totalus"
Dahil sa tuwing tinatawag mo akong ng"Ariii" na fre-freeze ang aking hypothalamus
Na halos masabog-sabog na tong pagmamahal na ihahantulad ko sa isang bulkan
Hindi ko man lang namalayan na umabot ito ng isang buwan
Pati na ang nakatagong pag-ibig dito sa aking damdamin
Ay sadyang naging malalim
Na kahit gumamit man ako ng salitang "alohomora"
Para mabuksan ang pintuan ng puso **** nakasara
Kahit maging seeker man ako sa quidditch
At ikaw ang magiging "snitch"
Hindi parin kita maka-catch
Sapagkat ang tayong dalawa ay imposibleng maging match
O makipaglaban man ako sa Wizard's Chess
Para makamtan ang iyong sorcerer's heart
Ay hindi parin sapat
Alam mo kung bakit?
Dahil hindi ako karapat-dapat
At ang karapat-dapat
Ay ang ika'y pakawalan
Dahil alam ko naman sa kahuli-hulihan
Ako parin ang masasaktan
Kaya salamat,
Salamat sa pansamantalang kilig
Sa tuwing ika'y nakatitig.
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 10:34 AM UTC
The gusts of wind rustle through his dark hair as he rides his broomstick
In the search of the golden snitch – In the search of the ferrety golden snitch.
And in his mind whizzes past an image – at lightning speed, very swiftly,
As his expert eyes go after the small shiny metallic ball.
The Nimbus 2000 he once owned has now been replaced with another
In the attempt to make him quicker – In the attempt to make him quicker.
His eyes look like his mother Lily’s – His father James was a Seeker,
This is an analogy of a natural case of heredity in Harry.
The old broomstick Nimbus 2000 he owned was broken into pieces
In his third year at the school of magic – In his third year at Hogwarts.
Dementors attacked him – in the Quidditch pitch during a match,
And he fell several feet below from air before Dumbledore saved him.
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 3:20 AM UTC
The already preset disposition of being Asian.
I must've been accidentally mixed in the wrong laundry basket,
because they tell me I'm white-washed.
Born with foreign looks but a native tongue
my birth certificate calls me *****
I would be the blonde-hair-blue-eyes of a country on the other side of the world
but here,
I'm still considered an immigrant
in my own home.
When you are Asian-American,
you are also the stereotypes that trail your title.
You are sushi
You are jackie-chan
You are karate
You are good grades
You are the slant-eyed pignose supporting character
WELCOME TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
LAND OF THE FREE, HOME OF THE BRAVE
WHERE UNITED IS TRANSLATED AS DISCRIMINATED!
BUT DON'T GET IT TWISTED, ASIANS ARE PRETTY COOL!
Excuse me straight misogynist white male,
your Godzilla type of Asian,
or my culture?
When have I
as an individual
played a character in these quote on quote American movies?
Hmm oh yeah, that's right!
I was in Fast and Furious!
Didn't I also make an appearance in Harry Potter as the cute innocent
Cho Chang?
If this also applies to you can I please have your autograph
because I'm pretty sure I've seen you star in every movie
I've ever seen.
Or at least your people, right?
Don't try to tone down the damage
I already know I'm categorized in this Asian fetish
that all you'll ever see in me is rice and anime,
nothing more, nothing less.
And if I were to become an author instead of a doctor,
I'd be considered as a social unnorm
a disgrace
but isn't it already disgraceful that in this bleached-colors world
I have lost touch of my heritage,
my roots replaced with a skeleton idea of who I'm supposed to be
I wear a mask.
My friends speak to my mom in their native language.
Sitting there,
disoriented,
lost in pronunciation
I ask my mother why she did not teach me her natural tongue.
She says,
"because you are American."
And I still do not believe her.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 11:48 PM UTC
Hi! The creator too is blind,
Struggling toward his harmonious whole,
Rejecting intermediate parts,
Horrors and falsities and wrongs;
Incapable master of all force,
Too vague idealist, overwhelmed
By an afflatus that persists.
For this, then, we endure brief lives,
The evanescent symmetries
From that meticulous potter's thumb.
7.6k
I don’t know your favourite colour
Or what you sing in the shower.
But I want to.
You’re a stranger,
Yet you held my hand and told me everything you thought of
And all I forgot to think of.
You kissed me,
With your scary hazel eyes
Following my every emotion.
I still don’t know how to feel.
You’re a stranger,
Yet you have a name,
Eight siblings,
A love for Harry Potter.
You have a smile that really does make me feel ugly.
How can you be so calm?
How can you feel so sure of who you are and what you want?
You’re a stranger,
But not for long.
Even if there are no more kisses,
I want to know what you think about alone at night;
how you like your tea.
I want to know every inch of your soul,
Because if you can see even an ounce of good in me,
You must be a sort of dreamer
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 6:02 AM UTC
I am a nerd:
* DnD
* Harry Potter
* Lord of the Rings
* WoW
* Anime
* Reading
* Video Games
* Comic book heroes
* Science
* Math
* Hunger games
* Steampunk
* Disney!!!
* Futurama
* Star Wars
* Doctor Who
* Breaking Bad
* Archer
* 90's Cartoons
* Invader Zim
I am a Metal head \m/
* Nightwish
* Sabaton
* Ozzy Osbourne
* Iron Maiden
* Epica
* Van Canto
* Dealian
* Hammerfall
* DragonForce
I love my life:
* My love
* My family
* My Job as a preschool teacher
* having fun
This is who I am and I don't care if any one thinks of me!
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 12:19 AM UTC
I’m not good at being forward
I have this habit of becoming disordered
I let my emotions change the color of my sleeve
In my aspirations I hope to find belief
I walk through jungles and rainforests
Once in a while I see through the canopy
Into the skies of my memories
And request that stars dance to the rhythm of us
I keep them alive to avoid the gathering of dust
My memories, caught in the Pensieve of your eyes
Have ignored all the times I told myself lies
I may not be your ideal Superman
But I’d accept Peter Pan if you’ll go with me to Neverland
I’ve rarely been so captivated by a girl
Sure, Zooey Deschanel is quirky in New Girl
And Emma Watson bewitched me from the start
Anna Kendrick was perfect in Pitch Perfect
Alex Morgan is the luckiest 13 I’ve ever seen
But I choose you! To fill my canteen
You quench my thirst when the loneliness dries me
I was not made to walk in a desert
My heart is an amphibian
Living like a Floridian in the ice-cold tundra we call Rexburg
You still need the sun, no matter how much it snows
I’ll trudge on in the jungle; dormant in the night
I’ll carry on with you in mind, until the time is right
Once I’ve faced death, or even a spider
Then, I think I’ll top the greats; George of the Jungle, Aslan, Mogly, Tarzan, Batman, Peter Pan, Harry Potter, Genghis Kahn, Michael… Jackson or Jordan
They’re all kings and I’ll be in their league
As I shake off the fatigue and find courage in you
To make it through the awkward moment of simply saying
“You’re a real kind of gorgeous”
In that chorus, played on my rhythm of heartbeats
I found my way out of the back streets
From deep in the jungle I’ve come to know as Fear
A jungle that disappears when your presence is near
Sometimes I have to stop walking, stop thinking
I feel like I’m on the verge of something spectacular
Anything normal might ruin that
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 11:14 PM UTC
If Doraemon is real,
I'll use his 'Hopter' to go above the clouds
Shout all my pains and get out from the crowd,
Wait for the rain and see the lightning strike the ground.
If Doraemon is real,
I'll use his 'anywhere door' to travel around the world
Oh, I'll bring my wardrobe, my lover, my bed and even my dog
With one step, I can go anywhere and write it on my blog.
If Doraemon is real,
I'll use his 'copying toast' to get different certifications
I'll memorize Merriam, Websters, Harry Potter and have an oration
I'll be the smartest person alive and wait I can feel the mutation!
If Doraemon is real,
I'll use his 'dress up camera' to get all all the dress that I want
I'm going to wear Gucci, Prada, Channel and even Dolce and Gabbana
I'll be more than the Hollywood stars, yeah I don't need Santa.
But Doraemon is not real,
He's not even mine, he is Nobita's childhood best friend.
That show taught me a great lesson - you don't need any gadget
to be happy, to have friends, to be satisfied or to feel loved.
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 10:29 PM UTC
She was carefully crafted to be fragile but choose to be a diamond over a coal.
Her skin reminds me of bed where I can be both vulnerable and secured.
A place to rest my head.
She may not know it but to me
her hair smelled like home on a summer night.
Her hands were so small yet when she holds mine,
she holds my whole world along with it.
She loves cats, vintage cameras, Ed Sheeran, the beach
road trips, the rural life, Harry Potter, of course she's a potterhead
These are the things that bring color to her.
Then fireflies emerge from their slumber to gather around her.
If I were to paint just her eyes I'd get a night sky
And in it lies her vast number of quirks in which,
more often than not
I find myself lost.
Her voice echo with melodies beyond what I could comprehend
But this is love, not logic.
I believe I was not meant to understand her.
I believe I was meant to love her.
Jun 17, 2017
Jun 17, 2017 at 8:48 AM UTC
The proudest thing I think I've ever done,
Such artistry, such skill I have attained!
The semi-glaze reflecting of the sun,
The richness of the blue, so lightly stained;
So perfect is the pointed pouring spout
That sits upon a rim of gold emboss,
And proudly do the handles both stick out,
Exquisite is the painted Celtic cross;
I toiled and slaved for oh so many years,
My fingers ever wet and moist with clay,
But now at last I'm free of all the fears
And doubts that clouded me until this day;
I know you'll all be very pleased for me,
So thanks, my friends, on Hello Pottery!
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 6:50 PM UTC
vintage polaroids
mountain air
girl scout cookies
summer hair
ed sheeran lyrics
mint lemonade
blowing bubbles
christmas parade
harry potter
winter park crew
biscoff spread
morning dew
british accents
plaid shirts
old castles
chocolate desserts
breakfast for dinner
big bang theory quotes
shakespearean language
cape cod sailboats
sweet nostalgia
the smell of books
longing wanderlust
forest nook
80s movies
neon lights
time with friends
caramel delights
the great gatsby
walk the moon
old typewriters
plumerias bloom
bombay bicycle club
chinese cuisine
abstract art
seafoam green
vineyard vines
life of pi
scuba diving
monarch butterfly
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 9:54 PM UTC
Snitch-catcher.
Cauldron-stirrer.
Wand-waver.
Quidditch-player.
Stone-retriever.
Riddle-killer.
Buckbeak-rider.
Triwizard-enterer.
Phoenix-member.
Snape-hater.
Voldemort-fighter.
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 4:20 PM UTC
Sometimes the words I love you swarm like hornets behind my teeth, a phrase so heavy it only has eight letters just like I lost you.
Sometimes in the pause you take before you speak, I wonder if you’re fighting to keep down the same things as I am; trying to swallow a confession that seems less like a secret and more like stating the obvious.
We were funny, we were bad at holding hands, I hated when a car goes over the tracks, you had this way of making silence the loudest sound in the room when it hit the floor.
I made a home out of your hands just like how many beautiful things go without reciprocation.
We seem to have found fault in being whole, somewhere alone the way, we’ve started enjoying breaking things;
Like my ribs when you’re gone and I want to know if you can tell the difference between the absence of my voice and silence.
You are the only thing I’ve ever let go that makes my hands ache.
I’m still trying to piece together what made you lose your faith in me, was it how everything starts with gritting teeth and everything ends with you walking away? I should’ve known, the way you used to hold my back like you were checking it for exit wounds.
It took me 2 car wrecks and 6 shattered mirrors for me to realize that the world has so much more to say when it is silent;
if I didn’t bruise so easily, if I wasn’t looking for a way to be made of a river, if I needed the silence to mean something, then I would ask you to build me out of quiet revenge and goodbyes that stick in your sides like tree branches, I would need you to build me out of reasons to believe instead of reasons to be afraid, I would turn my kneecaps into strawberries in exchange for potter’s hands so I could mild you a bulletproof spirit.
It was silence and your lighter, I was cold, you were drinking; that was our backbone.
You were alone, I was going too fast because sometimes you don’t have to be in the wrong place to be looking for the wrong thing.
I am afraid and you are warm; this is the beginning of a forest fire filled with broken glass shattering in broken homes with broken people inside on a broken piece of land in a city that has too much rain for someone to build an emergency room in.
I spend nights up until my body can’t handle itself any longer,
mornings have come like a hammer to my head-
instead of my face, all I can see in the mirror is an unfamiliar expression,
something like a dead battery.
All I ever wanted was for you to be my fire, I am tired of these old lives and would like to see them burn.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 3:31 AM UTC
Megan
my partner in crime
my bumble bee twin
my best friend
Best friends since second grade
that's.... what 15 years now? 16?
Sleepovers at eachothers homes
Pixie stick highs and slushy brain freezes
Trips to my grandmother's,
for a Harry Potter Marathon
Rocking out to Halestorm
Daughters of Darkness through and through
Foil art doodling and reading through the night
Did I mention the trip to Walmart?
ten at night just for a loaf of bread?
Screaming at eachother, throwing punches
Calling names so bad tears start to form
Saying we're through we're done mo more friendship
two minutes later laughing stupidly together
Our favorite place, Weedamo woods,
High Rock, queens of the world
I visit those memories in my dreams
I miss my soul sister my best friend for life
I miss being able to call you up and yell
*"YO ***** come get me I need to talk."*
You're still my bestie and you always will b
This separation don't forget is only temporary.
I'll move down there soon
and together we can rec havoc once more
until then please don't forget me
I know I haven't forgotten you.
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 11:30 AM UTC
Library - It is a world full of books
All are interested, whether they are engineers, peons or cooks
Books of all genre you will find
It never fails to attract one's mind
But please remember the Golden Rule
Please be silent; it isn't a sin
Never be violent or else you'll disgrace your kith and kin
You may even make the librarian your friend
And ***** will provide you with books of the latest trend
Harry Potter, The Godfather and The Da Vinci Code
Not that keen? Well you could always try The Princess and the Toad
Books are for everyone; age doesn't matter
Idiot box or reading? I'd rather choose the latter
Whether you want science or fiction
The Library is a world of addiction
Once you pick up a book you will get glued
You'll shout yourself hoarse if anyone dares to intrude
You'll be reading it in class, the toilet or the bus
And when the teacher confiscates it you'll create a big fuss
Oh, Miss please! Just one more page!
It's the ****** part between the pirate and the sage
We should thank Gutenberg for inventing the press and bestowing upon us this boon
Else we'd all still be stuck watching cartoon!
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 11:41 AM UTC
Harry Potter marathons
Keeps my mind going strong
Feeds my imagination
Hogwarts is my destination
Fun times can be found
Magical abilities will abound
Harry has a path to follow
Leading up to Deathly Hallows
Ron and Hermione his best friends
Stick with him to the bitter end
Dumbledore a blessing to behold
Guides Harry as his life unfolds
Snape was such a scoundrel
Turns out he's quite wonderful
In the end you will see
There's nothing better than family
Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 4:14 PM UTC
Harry Potter's on
With Star Trek, sudoku, and
A book on Aaron Swartz
Sep 3, 2016
Sep 3, 2016 at 5:08 PM UTC
I happened by a store one day, it was to the side of the road and out of the way. Inside were many curious things. On a shelf, by an old wooden bench, I saw a worn out pair of shoes for sale. I couldn't help but notice how the laces were worn bear and how the souls were almost worn through. I ask the man behind the counter, how much the shoes were and he said for you just a few dollars will do. I considered the purchase and tried them on my feet. The shoes fit perfectly, which was a surprise to me. I ask who used to own the shoes and the man said a potter I think. He wore them as he traveled around finding broken things to fix. I thought about it some more and decide I would buy the shoes. I paid the man and left with them on. They were very comfortable and as I walked down the street, I met a man who looked like he could use something to eat. I offered him a kind word and gave him a few dollars, then I went on my way. I thought nothing of my actions. As time went on, it seemed that each day brought something new. A person in need of a kind word or a helping hand. For years I wore the old shoes, but they never seemed to wear out. Though I had many other pairs, they just sat collecting dust. Then one day a young man came by as I was sitting on my front porch. The shoes were sitting on a table beside me and the young man asked me about them, so I told him the story. Marveling at what I said, he seemed anxious to try the shoes on. I let him and they fit perfectly on him as they once did me. He asked if he could buy them and I told him the price. He paid me a few dollars and was on his way. That night as I lay sleeping, I began to dream and I saw the man who had sold me the shoes. He was wearing robes, dressed all in white with a radiant face that shone like the sun. As I felt peace come over me, I saw him wearing the old pair of shoes and he said to me child well done.
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 11:38 PM UTC
*This poem is dedicated to the memory of Admiral Albert ***** Potter who displayed amazing bravery by wearing full drag through several major sea battles. He was cashiered for insisting the Admiralty rename his ship HMS Butch instead of HMS Fearless. In fact the vessel was eventually renamed HMS Damp **** because it was full of ******
A life on the ocean wave, **
In the olden days of sail
When England's ships were proud and brave
And their crews were very male.
The Captain stood upon his bridge
Looking smart and flash;
But below the decks, the orders were
*** and *** and the lash.
The bosun went to the main gunroom,
**** Deadeye at the ready;
Initiation time had come
For little midshipman Freddy.
"Strap him o'er that cannon, lads!"
Roared the hirsute fellow,
"Gag his mouth securely, lads,
In case he tries to bellow!"
The sailors did as he had bid -
Refused and they'd be punished -
And they knew their turn would come
After the bosun had finished.
The bosun went up the poor young lad
And soon was going strong;
Midshipman Fred looked rather pained -
The Bosun was THICK and LONG.
Then came the turn of the other men
And they set to with a will;
Little Fred could not say no
Until they'd had their fill.
What a life our sailors had then,
Always singing shanties;
When men were men and big and butch
And cabin boys wore silk *******
A life on the ocean wave, **
With the rolling sea and the spray.
Sinking the Frogs and murdering Wogs
Kept England's sailors so gay.
OLÉ! OLÉ! OLÉ! OLÉ! OLÉ! OLÉ!
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 6:37 PM UTC
Here are the names of my lovers,
The women I sleep with, whom
I use, like they use me.
Spent, they discard me, for when their pleasure needs
Satiated, they climb aboard another man.
What they do not know,
Is that in my mind, in my ears,
everywhere,
I did not let them, or you go,
We are still romping,
For I
Take them as needed.
I need them all,
For my pleasure needs, like my unshaped heart,
Addictive, endless.
If your is name is here, I do not
Apologize.
Pink
Adele
Lilly Allen
Anna Nalick
Bess Rogers
Beyonce
Brandi Carlisle
Cat Power
Colbie Callait
Duffy
Eva Cassidy
Evanescence
Alison Sudol
Fiona Apple
Florence Welch
Grace Potter
Ingrid Michaelson
You
Joni Mitchell
K.D. Lang
Kate Nash
Kate Voegele
Leona Lewis
Lizz Wright
Madeline Peyroux
Marie Digby
Mary Wells
Norah Jones
Regina Spektor
Sara Bareilles
You
Sara Haze
Taylor Swift and Tracy Chapman
Tristan Prettyman
Vanessa Carlton
So many others, used so long ago, I can't remember the faces,
Which can't be googled.
Use them hard, use them often, more than daily.
Bluntly, I tell you
Your name is on my list,
Even if I do not disclose it.
Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 9:31 AM UTC
…These men are worth your tears:
You are not worth their merriment.
-Wilfred Owen, “Apologia Pro Poemate Meo”
When that loudmouth on the wireless machine
Alludes to Western Civilization
What does he mean? Paradise Lost? Probably not
Nor Saint Paul speaking on the Field of Mars
The Kalevala, Hagia Sophia
With its pendentives lifting up our prayers
Horatius fighting to defend his bridge
And Wilfred Owen dying bravely on his
Lord Tennyson and Idylls of the King
Chapultepec, Henry V, Becket
The paratroops at Arnhem, Saint Thomas More,
His King’s loyal servant, but God’s first
The Stray Dog poets of Saint Petersburg
The brave last stand of Roland at Roncesvalles
Lewis and Tolkien and glasses of beer
Montcalm and Wolfe on the Plains of Abraham
Hildegard von Bingen, Siegfried and the Rhine
Magna Carta, HMS Hood, the Thames
The Grove of Daphne, “The Old Rugged Cross”
Beatrix Potter and her little pet rabbit
El Cid, Anne Frank, John Keats, Saint Benedict
“I Have a Dream,” Dostoyevsky, and Greene
Viktor Frankl, Dag Hammarkskjold, and Proust
Good Chaucer’s naughty pilgrims telling tales
The Gettysburg Address, Willie and Joe
Stern Saint Augustine of North Africa
Wodehouse writing a jolly bit of fun
Saint Corbinian and Bavaria
The ancient glories of Byzantium
Pius XII contra the bombs and lies
The 602nd TD Battalion
Saint Joan, the Prado, and Robert Frost
And far, far more.
When that loudmouth on the wireless machine
Alludes to Western Civilization
What does he mean?
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 4:06 PM UTC