Jan. 22nd, 2012

[identity profile] punkinelf.livejournal.com
I love this!

Darkness (excerpt) by Lord Byron

I had a dream, which was not all a dream:
The bright sun was extinguished, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless and pathless, and the icy Earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air!
Morn came, and went, and came - and brought no day.
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chilled into a selfish prayer for light.
And they did live by watchfires - and the thrones,
The palaces of crownéd kings, the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons. Cities were consumed,
And men were gathered round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other's face.
Happy were those which dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch!
A fearful hope was all the World contained -
Forests were set on fire, but hour by hour
They fell and faded, and the crackling trunks
Extinguished with a crash, and all was black.

Excerpt from "Darkness" by Lord Byron
med_cat: (Default)
[personal profile] med_cat
Gift from Heaven

(A husband is a gift from Heaven to a woman, says a prominent sociologist.--News item.)

Does your gift from Heaven give you all the money that you need?
Does he bring men home for dinner when but two you'd planned to feed?
Does your gift from Heaven always do exactly as he should?
Does he hang up his pajamas or just leave them where he stood?
As a husband have you thought him in his manners rather slack?
Well, he's now your gift from Heaven!  Would you like to send him back?

Does your gift from Heaven, lady, stay out rather late at night?
Does he grumble in the morning if the coffee isn't right?
Does he whistle while he's shaving?  Does he toss his things about?
When you make a bid at contract does he always take you out?
Does he frequently annoy you by the silly things he'll do?
Then remember, little lady, he was Heaven's gift to you.

A scientist has told us that he thoroughly believes
A husband is a present which from Heaven the wife receives,
And I know the men will hail him as a friend, but I shall fear
To quote my Heavenly rating for I know she'll say, "My dear,
You may be a gift from somewhere, but you can't be Heaven sent,
The professor's made an error--'twas the other place he meant."

(Edgar A. Guest)

[identity profile] elenbarathi.livejournal.com

What Almost Every Woman Knows Sooner or Later

Husbands are things that wives have to get used to putting up with.
And with whom they breakfast with and sup with.
They interfere with the discipline of nurseries,
And forget anniversaries,
And when they have been particularly remiss
They think they can cure everything with a great big kiss,
And when you tell them about something awful they have done they just look unbearably patient and smile a superior smile,
And think, Oh she'll get over it after a while.
And they always drink cocktails faster than they can assimilate them,
And if you look in their direction they act as if they were martyrs and you were trying to sacrifice, or immolate them,
And when it's a question of walking five miles to play golf they are very energetic but if it's doing anything useful around the house they are very lethargic,
And then they tell you that women are unreasonable and don't know anything about logic,
And they never want to get up or go to bed at the same time as you do,
And when you perform some simple common or garden rite like putting cold cream on your face or applying a touch of lipstick they seem to think that you are up to some kind of black magic like a priestess of Voodoo.
And they are brave and calm and cool and collected about the ailments of the person they have promised to honor and cherish,
But the minute they get a sniffle or a stomachache of their own, why you'd think they were about to perish,
And when you are alone with them they ignore all the minor courtesies and as for airs and graces, they uttlerly lack them,
But when there are a lot of people around they hand you so many chairs and ashtrays and sandwiches and butter you with such bowings and scrapings that you want to smack them.
Husbands are indeed an irritating form of life,
And yet through some quirk of Providence most of them are really very deeply ensconced in the affection of their wife.

by Ogden Nash

[identity profile] sashay-away.livejournal.com
Taken from the poetryfoundation.org

Weakness, Truth, Swearing, Precision, More Lies, and the Social Contract

My favorite kind of pie is cake. I have a giant umbrella that protects no one. My father is a sadist and I am my father’s son. These statements are not lies but perhaps they lack a certain clarity. When one lies, one undermines trust in society—which is not my intention—but if there is a Truth out there, to be had clearly and definitively, I’m not sure I’m the kind that can get to it; and if I can get to it I’m not sure I should be the one entrusted with it. I’m a doubter. I’m suspicious of context. I have enough trouble figuring out where to put the punctuation and I type like a hundred monkeys stuck in taffy, putting the commas where I breathe and the periods where I breathe more. Most of the time I feel like I’m barking and pointing, but one of the tricks to making decent art is to address your weaknesses. If I bark, I might as well bark pretty. If I point, I might as well point whole-heartedly.


In my town some people use the f-word. In public. As an adjective. )

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