āThe Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.ā
ā Omar KhayyĆ”m
" Every Night & every Morn
Some to Misery are Born
Every Morn and every Night
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to Endless Night"
-From The Auguries of Innocence, by William Blake
A basic training cadence from the mid 80s. We HAD to YELL IT! MY DI was old school and we had one of the first female recruit classes on campus, two buildings down. He parked our whole company in front of their barracks and we chanted the foulest shit the Sergeant could think of during PT.
A yellow bird
With a yellow bill
Was sitting on
My windowsill
I lured him in
With a piece of bread
And then I smashed his
F*****g head
Sound off 1, 2, sound off 3,4
bring it on down
1,2 3,4ā¦1ā¦2ā¦3,4!
The Ammoniated Misunderstanding
(A duet to the tune of The Mexican Hat Dance)
by
Mason Williams
1st Person: Ammonia! Ammonia! Ammonia!
2nd Person: Get off! Get off! Get off!
1st Person: Ammonia! Ammonia! Ammonia!
2nd Person: Get off! Get off! Get off!
1st Person: Ammonia! Ammonia! Ammonia!
2nd Person: Get off! Get off! Get off!
1st Person: Ammonia! Ammonia! Ammonia!
2nd Person: Get off! Get off! Get off!
1st Person: I donāt mean that Iām on you, I mean ammonia!
Ammonia!
2nd Person: I donāt care what you mean, just get off! Get off!
Get off!
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, donāt deal in lies,
Or being hated, donāt give way to hating,
And yet donāt look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dreamāand not make dreams your master;
If you can thinkāand not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth youāve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build āem up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: āHold on!ā
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kingsānor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty secondsā worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything thatās in it,
Andāwhich is moreāyouāll be a Man, my son!
by Rudyard Kipling
Here I sit broken hearted, tried to shit but only farted.
Beans beans thine magical fruit, the more you eateth the more you shall toot.
I only know this poem through a comedy T.V show. Cant place the show. Frasier?
I did not hear this in a show but rather something my mother told me when I was young and it stuck with me. Here is some info on it.
RubĆ”iyĆ”t of Omar KhayyĆ”m is the title that Edward FitzGerald gave to his 1859 translation from Persian to English of a selection of quatrains (rubÄŹæiyÄt ) attributed to Omar Khayyam (1048ā1131), dubbed āthe Astronomer-Poet of Persiaā.
Thereās a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but Iām too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, Iām not going
to let anybody see
you.
thereās a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
heās
in there.
thereās a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but Iām too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
thereās a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but Iām too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybodyās asleep.
I say, I know that youāre there,
so donāt be
sad.
then I put him back,
but heās singing a little
in there, I havenāt quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and itās nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I donāt
weep, do
you?
I figured it out. Relief lol I was going nuts there for a sec. recognized it cause T.V like I know Classical Music through bugs bunny sorta thing lol https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Odz-fB72Ko
LOL, donāt you hate when things get stuck in your head like that.
Vinita:
'Where Dark unites the Light
To annhilate the former world
Create another,
Brings another life, i thought
Where young dosnāt grow old
Or cold so hot
To create newer worldsā¦
Where there is no new, no old
No hot no cold
No light no dark
No night no morn
is where sings the larkā¦
Definitely. I have been stumped with friends and family, I figure it out, I call right away,even at 4 in the morning I do not care. Always get a āThatās what it is.ā Never do you know what time it is. lol
ahhh the memories good times good times
A great ring of pure and endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart
And breaks apart the dusky clouds of night.
The end of all is hinted in the start.
When we are born we bear the seeds of blight;
Around us life and death are torn apart,
Yet a great ring of pure and endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart.
It lights the world to my delight.
Infinity is present in each part.
A loving smile contains all art.
The motes of starlight spark and dart.
A grain of sand holds power and might.
Infinity is present in each part,
And a great ring of pure and endless light
Dazzles the darkness in my heart.ā
ā Madeleine LāEngle
here i sit
broken hearted
paid a dime
and only farted
please i need a life
Your heart isnāt broken, youāre looking outwards for that which you can only find inside your own heart.
āWrite it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year. He is rich who owns the day, and no one owns the day who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety. Finish every day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities, no doubt, crept in. Forget them as soon as you can, tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely, with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense. This new day is too dear, with its hopes and invitations, to waste a moment on the yesterdays.ā
ā Ralph Waldo Emerson