nicky wire's legs
sexily aging 90's britpop stars > irish wiggers
jesus could be a member of suede, i guess
True Poems, with a Morrissey flavour
- Thread starter goinghome
- Start date
nicky wire's legs
sexily aging 90's britpop stars > irish wiggers
well, yeah, i know. duh.by T.S. Elliot
i've always loved this. it appeals to my amoralism.
Aubrey McFate
Burn down the disco
nicky wire's legs
sexily aging 90's britpop stars > irish wiggers
Those Winter Sundays
BY ROBERT HAYDENSundays too my father got up early
and put his clothes on in the blueblack cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he’d call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love’s austere and lonely offices?
ZOOM FROM GLOOM
the thorn in your side. BOOYAH!
.
The Gods! The Gods!
People were bathing and posturing themselves on the beach, and all was dreary,
great robot limbs, robot breasts, robot voices, robot even the gay umbrellas.
But a woman, shy and alone, was washing herself under a tap and the glimmer of the presence of the gods was like
lilies, and like water-lilies.
- D.H. Lawrence
The World Is Too Much With Us
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune,
It moves us not.—Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
- William Wordsworth
The Gods! The Gods!
People were bathing and posturing themselves on the beach, and all was dreary,
great robot limbs, robot breasts, robot voices, robot even the gay umbrellas.
But a woman, shy and alone, was washing herself under a tap and the glimmer of the presence of the gods was like
lilies, and like water-lilies.
- D.H. Lawrence
The World Is Too Much With Us
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune,
It moves us not.—Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
- William Wordsworth
ZOOM FROM GLOOM
the thorn in your side. BOOYAH!
huh? have you heard him play piano?! forget it.
goinghome
you must not tamper with arrangements
The Soul selects her own Society (303)
by Emily Dickinson - 1830-1886The Soul selects her own Society —
Then — shuts the Door —
To her divine Majority —
Present no more —
Unmoved — she notes the Chariots — pausing —
At her low Gate —
Unmoved — an Emperor be kneeling
Upon her Mat —
I've known her — from an ample nation —
Choose One —
Then — close the Valves of her attention —
Like Stone —
(c. 1862)
nicky wire's legs
sexily aging 90's britpop stars > irish wiggers
The Concert
by Lisel Mueller
in memory of Dimitri Mitropoulos
The harpist believes there is music
in the skeletons of fish
The French horn player believes
in enormous golden snails
The piano believes in nothing
and grins from ear to ear
Strings are scratching their bellies
openly, enjoying it
Flutes and oboes complain
in dialects of the same tongue
Drumsticks rattle a calfskin
from the sleep of another life
because the supernatural crow
on the podium flaps his wings
and death is no excuse
by Lisel Mueller
in memory of Dimitri Mitropoulos
The harpist believes there is music
in the skeletons of fish
The French horn player believes
in enormous golden snails
The piano believes in nothing
and grins from ear to ear
Strings are scratching their bellies
openly, enjoying it
Flutes and oboes complain
in dialects of the same tongue
Drumsticks rattle a calfskin
from the sleep of another life
because the supernatural crow
on the podium flaps his wings
and death is no excuse
sea salt
Princess Diana
Do you mean Jesus wouldn’t be good enough or too good? Honest question. I mean, you don’t have to be the most accomplished piano player to be in suede. Neil Codling is hardly Rachmaninov, even Bernard Butler played The Next Life better LOL.
nicky wire's legs
sexily aging 90's britpop stars > irish wiggers
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
i dont even know what to say!!!!!!! other THAN: apart from being in suede neil codling is also in penguin cafe!!!!!!!! he didnt get that position because of his looks!!!! he is multi talented!!!! jesus could be in suede, but he could NOT be in penguin cafe!!!!!!!!
nicky wire's legs
sexily aging 90's britpop stars > irish wiggers
@Born to Harangue you remove that dislike right now!! there is no reason for you to dislike that poem!!!
sea salt
Princess Diana
I don’t want to sound mean but I think what happened was that his friend who was in Penguin Cafe felt a little sorry for Neil after he left suede and so he gave him a job. The piano parts in Penguin Cafe aren’t really that sophisticated. Jesus could definitely pull it off.
nicky wire's legs
sexily aging 90's britpop stars > irish wiggers
you're wrong!!! penguin cafe represents the highest musical standards!! jesus does NOT have the musical acuity to be in penguin cafe!!! also, forgive me, but i dont recall the Berklee College of Music ever asking jesus to do a music tutorial!!!
nicky wire's legs
sexily aging 90's britpop stars > irish wiggers
i know jesus likes to have his finger in every pie, but im afraid he's just gonna have to sit this one out!!
goinghome
you must not tamper with arrangements
Cats
Cats sleep, anywhere,
Any table, any chair
Top of piano, window-ledge,
In the middle, on the edge,
Open drawer, empty shoe,
Anybody's lap will do,
Fitted in a cardboard box,
In the cupboard, with your frocks-
Anywhere! They don't care!
Cats sleep anywhere.
- Eleanor Farjeon
Was I ever any good
Labour to my death.
Is this REALLY a poetry thread ?
Or just for folks who think God
Might have existed .... Which is very scary.
Or just for folks who think God
Might have existed .... Which is very scary.
Was I ever any good
Labour to my death.
DEAR GOD.. PLEASE HELP THEM.
Was I ever any good
Labour to my death.
YOU KICK US WHEN WE
FALL DOWN.........
FALL DOWN.........
ZOOM FROM GLOOM
the thorn in your side. BOOYAH!
yes, on second thought. If a person can supposedly turn water into wine, make the blind see,etc,etc. then it’s most likely possible that he (Jesus) can conjure up the piano skills to play in Suede, or at least enough skill to play a mean rendition of Chopsticks!
