POET'S LAIR - Page 2




 
--
POET'S LAIR
 
June 27th, 2007  
Donkey
 
 
POET'S LAIR
We all create our lives so let yourself be free and you will know

Think outside, change yourself within, project out, and let your thoughts flow

In turn reap what you grow and earn what you sew

Create your life, just be free, and grow

Rather simplistic, how I create, maybe it's for a lack of better but who will really ever know

~Donkey Original


June 28th, 2007  
Rob Henderson
 
 
Gunpowder, Treason, and Plot

Remember Remember the fifth of November

The gunpowder treason and plot

I see no reason why gunpowder treason

should ever be forgot

Guy Fawkes Guy, 'twas his intent

to blow up king and parliament

Three score barrels were laid below

to prove old England's overthrow

By God's mercy he was catched

with a dark lantern and lighted match

Holler boys Holler boys let the bells ring

Holler boys Holler boys God save the King

I LOVE this poem. Ever since V For Vendetta came out I've become fascinated with the legend.
June 28th, 2007  
Del Boy
 

I guess you know then that we still celebrate this every Nov 5th . But until very recent years it was always celebrated as a giant event, with huge bonfires all over the country, lots built in the streets, piled up as big as houses, and smaller fires in peoples' back gardens. On the very top went stuffed figures of Guy Fawkes. All done by the people as individuals, no public organising etc., all off the cuff , locals joining in together at the moment and the kids taking a big part. Once when my kids were small I had to drag Guy off, because they were upset - they recognised he was wearing my old clothes. Fireworks exploded all over town, on the streets, kids causing general mayhem with bangers and jumping jacks and having a great time for a couple of days. For some weeks before poor kids pushed prams or carts around with effigies of Guy, asking Penny for the Guy, so that they could collect fire-work money.

Historically of course, Guy went to the rack. So indeed we did always remember the fifth of November.

Here's another traditional street song and dance that always appeared on festive street occasions in London.

Sons of the Sea
All British born
Sailed every ocean
Laughing foes to scorn.

They can build their ships my lads
Think they know the game
But they can't beat the boys of the Bull-Dog breed
Who made old England's game.
--
POET'S LAIR
June 28th, 2007  
Rob Henderson
 
 
Quote:
Originally Posted by Del Boy
I guess you know then that we still celebrate this every Nov 5th . But until very recent years it was always celebrated as a giant event, with huge bonfires all over the country, lots built in the streets, piled up as big as houses, and smaller fires in peoples' back gardens. On the very top went stuffed figures of Guy Fawkes. All done by the people as individuals, no public organising etc., all off the cuff , locals joining in together at the moment and the kids taking a big part. Once when my kids were small I had to drag Guy off, because they were upset - they recognised he was wearing my old clothes. Fireworks exploded all over town, on the streets, kids causing general mayhem with bangers and jumping jacks and having a great time for a couple of days. For some weeks before poor kids pushed prams or carts around with effigies of Guy, asking Penny for the Guy, so that they could collect fire-work money.

Historically of course, Guy went to the rack. So indeed we did always remember the fifth of November.
Hanged, then drawn and quartered. Then his Fawkes family jewls cut off and burned, then...Well...Here's the rest. "He was finally hung, drawn and quartered which was the traditional punishment for traitors on January 31, 1606. Guy Fawkes was hung until he was half dead and then his genitals were cut off and burned in front of him. Whilst still alive, his heart and bowels would be removed from his body, he would be decapitated and his limbs removed from his body. Finally, his body parts would be publicly displayed and left for the birds to eat them."
June 28th, 2007  
Del Boy
 

Right. Yeah, but he didn't get away with just that until after the stretching on the rack to let him know what a serious business this was! We did lots of that stuff in those days. William Wallace went the same way, in public of course. Nice.
June 28th, 2007  
Rob Henderson
 
 
Had to be public...It's not NEAR as effective in private.
June 29th, 2007  
Del Boy
 

It just doesn't seem real now, does it?

Anyone got a good poem??
June 29th, 2007  
Rob Henderson
 
 
O magnum mysterium,
et admirabile sacramentum
ut animalia viderent Dominum
natum, jacentem in praesepio!
Beata Virgo, cujus viscera
meruerunt portare
Dominum Christum.
Alleluia.
____________________________

English Text: O great mystery,
and wonderful sacrament,
that animals should see the new-
born Lord, lying in their manger!
Blessed is the Virgin whose womb
was worthy to bear the
Lord Jesus Christ.
Alleluia.


This made my choir teacher cry when we performed it at the Spring Finale Concert.

http://music.download.com/el_toro_hi...100217956.html

A link to the actual song. Click on O Magnum Mysterium.
June 29th, 2007  
bulldogg
 
 
Choir teachers are odd.

This poem was written by a friend...

Is The Dream Still With You?

Is the Dream still with you?
You that left
It all behind?
Said farewell
To your brothers,
Left high road for low;
Exchanging burdens for breeze.
Does your head still turn?
- do your ears still burn?
You who emptied your gun,
And took sacred bowl,
Curved from hand-me-down and gentle sip.
Silken dreams give pleasure
- no yardstick is there to measure.
And in your hands lay worlds,
Where Truth revealed
Your mind unfurls.
And does It live - and does It stay?
And is It with you - anyway?

Paul William Tait
http://www.poetry.com/Publications/d...06&BN=999&PN=1

This one makes me cry but then its personal.
June 29th, 2007  
Rob Henderson
 
 
Choir teachers also devote more to their subject than any other teacher...Other than the theatrical arts. Do you know how many years of theory they have to go through? Not to mention learning piano so they can show their students how to perform the correct note...Off topic.

Mao Zedong's Mountains
Mountains!
I whip my swift horse, glued to my saddle.
I turn my head startled,
The sky is three foot above me!

Mountains!
Like great wave surging in a crashing sea,
Like a thousand stallions
In full gallop in the heat of battle.

Mountains!
Piercing the blue of heaven, your barbs unblunted!
The skies would fall
But for you strength supporting.
 


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