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Viewing 15 posts - 166 through 180 (of 1,050 total)
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  • in reply to: Music Association Game #177919
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      Dr. Dog – Distant Light

      in reply to: Favourite Pomes #177900
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        Untitled by Elizabeth Bishop

        It is marvellous to wake up together
        At the same minute; marvellous to hear
        The rain begin suddenly all over the roof,
        To feel the air suddenly clear
        As if electricity had passed through it
        From a black mesh of wires in the sky.
        All over the roof the rain hisses,
        And below, the light falling of kisses.
        An electrical storm is coming or moving away;
        It is the prickling air that wakes us up.
        If lightning struck the house now, it would run
        From the four blue china balls on top
        Down the roof and down the rods all around us,
        And we imagine dreamily
        How the whole house caught in a bird-cage of lightning
        Would be quite delightful rather than frightening;
        And from the same simplified point of view
        Of night and lying flat on one’s back
        All things might change equally easily,
        Since always to warn us there must be these black
        Electrical wires dangling. Without surprise
        The world might change to something quite different,
        As the air changes or the lightning comes without our blinking,
        Change as the kisses are changing without our thinking.

        It may not have mattered or been clear to the reader that this was a lesbian love poem,
        but it apparently did so to Bishop, who censored herself, being still uncertain about
        her sexual inclinations at the time. It was written, according to Alice Quinn’s detailed
        and invaluable notes, either in the late 1930s for Louise Crane, a college friend,
        or for Marjorie Stevens, a woman she was living with in Key West between 1941 and 1946.
        (from NYRB 27.04.2006)

        in reply to: Favourite Pomes #177823
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          This poem is thought to have been inspired by the breakdown of marriage negotiations
          between Queen Elizabeth I and Francis, Duke of Anjou in 1581.
          She was quite fond of him and called him her “frog”.

          On Monsieur’s Departure
          by Queen Elizabeth I

          I grieve and dare not show my discontent,
          I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,
          I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,
          I seem stark mute but inwardly do prate.
          I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned,
          Since from myself another self I turned.

          My care is like my shadow in the sun,
          Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it,
          Stands and lies by me, doth what I have done.
          His too familiar care doth make me rue it.
          No means I find to rid him from my breast,
          Till by the end of things it be supprest.

          Some gentler passion slide into my mind,
          For I am soft and made of melting snow;
          Or be more cruel, love, and so be kind.
          Let me or float or sink, be high or low.
          Or let me live with some more sweet content,
          Or die and so forget what love ere meant.

          in reply to: Music. What song are you listening to? #177820
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            70’s country rock and flute
            for an Aisling lookalike

            in reply to: Music for a Pussyhound #177782
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              This just had to be done

              I love it

              in reply to: Music. What song are you listening to? #177757
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                in reply to: Music for a Pussyhound #177751
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                  two minds have met in the middle and have produced this ->
                  toro toro taxi see you tomorrow my son

                  in reply to: Music. What song are you listening to? #177744
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                    for a retro foodie Aisling look-a-like
                    love ya to bits and back …

                    in reply to: Music for a Pussyhound #177722
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                      it’s about time ….

                      in reply to: Music for a Pussyhound #177691
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                        more Riff Raff on KEXP !

                        in reply to: Favourite Pomes #177652
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                          The Monkey Puzzler
                          by Marianne Moore

                          A kind of monkey or pine-lemur,
                          not of interest to the monkey,
                          but to the animal higher up which resembles it,
                          in a kind of Flaubert’s Carthage, it defies one —
                          this ” Paduan cat with lizard, ” this ” tiger in a bamboo thicket. ”
                          ” An interwoven somewhat, ” it will not come out.
                          Ignore the Foo dog and it is forthwith more than a dog,
                          its tail superimposed upon itself in a complacent half spiral,
                          incidentally so witty;
                          but this pine-tree — this pine-tiger, is a tiger, not a dog.
                          It knows that if a nomad may have dignity,
                          Gibraltar has had more —
                          that ” it is better to be lonely than unhappy. ”
                          A conifer contrived in imitation of the glyptic work of jade and
                          hard-stone cutters,
                          a true curio in this bypath of curio-collecting,
                          it is worth its weight in gold, but no one takes it
                          from these woods in which society’s not knowing is colossal,
                          the lion’s ferocious chrysanthemum head seeming kind in
                          comparison.
                          This porcupine-quilled, infinitely complicated starkness —
                          this is beauty — ” a certain proportion in the skeleton which gives
                          the best results. ”
                          One is at a loss, however, to know why it should be here,
                          in this morose part of the earth —
                          to account for its origin at all;
                          but we prove, we do not explain our birth.

                          1925

                          in reply to: Music. What song are you listening to? #177427
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                            in reply to: Music. Songs that touch you #177425
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                              In a moment of pain,
                              she threw away the key.
                              She said, there ain’t a love out there
                              that’s big enough for me

                              in reply to: Music. Sliding Into The Covers #177419
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                                Mandolin Orange cover Neil Young’s Unknown Legend

                                …she rides a Harley Davidson

                                in reply to: Music for a Pussyhound #177415
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                                Viewing 15 posts - 166 through 180 (of 1,050 total)