Sunday, April 13, 2008

TO GEORGE SAND ON HIS DESIRE by E. Browning

Thou large-brained woman and large-hearted man,Self-called George Sand ! whose soul, amid the lions
Of thy tumultuous senses, moans defiance
And answers roar for roar, as spirits can:
I would some mild miraculous thunder ran
Above the applauded circus, in appliance
Of thine own nobler nature's strength and science,
Drawing two pinions, white as wings of swan,
From thy strong shoulders, to amaze the place
With holier light ! that thou to woman's claim
And man's, mightst join beside the angel's grace
Of a pure genius sanctified from blame
Till child and maiden pressed to thine embrace
To kiss upon thy lips a stainless fame.

TO GEORGE SHAND, A RECOGNITION by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

True genius, but true woman! dost deny The woman's nature with a manly scorn
And break away the gauds and armlets worn
By weaker women in captivity?
Ah, vain denial! that revolted cry
Is sobbed in by a woman's voice forlorn, _
Thy woman's hair, my sister, all unshorn
Floats back dishevelled strength in agony
Disproving thy man's name: and while before
The world thou burnest in a poet-fire,
We see thy woman-heart beat evermore
Through the large flame. Beat purer, heart, and higher,
Till God unsex thee on the heavenly shore
Where unincarnate spirits purely aspire!




SHALL I COMPARE THEE..... by W. SHAKESPEARE

Shall I compare the to a Summer's Day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.
ON HIS BLINDNESS by JOHN MILTON

When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide,
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide,
'Doth God exact day labor, light denied?'
I fondly ask. But Patience to prevent
That murmur soon replies, 'God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly: thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.'

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

INVINCIBLE AND SHORT CHANGE: NO MORE (Anonymous)

The title s the easy part. if you get my drift, Drift
Short of change don't go looking in Curly's jacket
Pocket, now will you then.
Your sister from Bethlehem in the O F of S is on her way
Taking the Tribunal down from Hannekom train station.

Zelda's mother's been poorly, I believe.
Moved her from left wing into right corner
She's there at The Rugby Memorial Nursing Homes
For geriatrics and Allzies. My mom's booked in for next year.

Arthur, that's Zelda from Bethlehem, is here for 2 weeks
He's come to see Brashalley whose had a spot on his lung
The doctors say it's nothing but a smudge on the lense
Oh perhaps he said the plate - all the same it appears
That he doesn t have the C word or anything.

Did you HEAR - Johnny s been having it off with Delilah
that's one of the baker's assistants in the baking section
Takes real risks, he does. His old lady does the banking
and the books four days a week. Likely to come across
the two of them one of these days!

Her name's Delisha and he's an I Tie by name of Guiseppe.

Well Buds, that's all thats hot off the press for the mo.
Send my regards to Mathilda, Bethany and Seth.

Take care, your friend

Bartholomew.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

TRASH MAIL, SPAM. (Entitled).

Freedom comes on a rainy day,
Like Ice and chilled guacomale - that s . . . that's
Mushed avocado and mayonnaise.
No Rules, No excuses, No good. . . . No good good.

Freedom and the Verse, canticles, sermons
Avocado Man stands, hugging the third pew.

Freedom and the ability to say . . How's it Bro, How's it, MY bro
That's okay, I'm cool, pass the bag of ice back to the...
The one who wants Ice not hot pot from offa
The stove.

Stove. Stove, hotch potch stove, whose goona make my sandwiches
When I'm sick and the folks are out there, queues
Pa's still on the dole. Mamma a part time nurse.
Hotch potch cross over - you got yourself a bun!

Hop scotch . . fairies fly when brothers grow moustaches
Twins, both beards by the time they're 10.

I'm leaving the planet . . Ice, sun. . The scent of the the roses - this here a song? No, nor neither a rhyme. A liturgy for who? A first, a last, the clock tower at the Waterfront . . . . Bought a vase, bought a bin. Got no plant, no paper to put in. Yet. A nursery is a shop that sell mainly plants - Got a lot of those, tomorrow gonna buy me a fairy. Ireland is where they come from. . . . Chelsea Britannia and Brittany Bay, Botany Harbour. . . . . boats, ships, trips!

Thursday, March 20, 2008

JOKERS AND JACK APPLES . . . (Illuminous).

Hey Johnathan, got a fig? Want one, four if you can spare, alright.
Alright . . yeah mate, that's okay by me but first gotta check it out
with my old lady, that's Eve.
I'm doing Mountcasino later. Are you game? And. . . don't forget the
figs, bro - check it out with your vrou (a grin with black eye teeth).
Yeah, that's cool .... Hey man, call me scone!

Stars start to shine. . . .but not all bright like. Its 7 by Green . . . Hey
mate, you can't take your own snacks, in! But slip me those figs. You
hear? You hear me, or what... The dogs got your knock knocks in a
harbour net? Hey?

Next time youse ouens, better wear a suit, okay a tie and lets check
how you look like that. At the one arms . . .Bad news for mate - R500
Slukked in the first 20 mins and like major descent! Poker on a pool
table. Fuck that's novel. I'm cool man, cool. . . . . . but are you, Mr
Croupier and can I shake your claw? Jokes Utah, Jokes.

. . . . . ... Mum would say - The Heathens, The Wicked, The Ignoramus,
The closeted in The Dark . . . . Steal, gamble, prostitute
And other devilish pursuits. . . .. . . Steal, murder, adulterate . . .
The Deadly sins? More like 70 than.....7!
Look at Phyllis, Constance's daughter. She ran off with Johnathan O! ..
Oh! o'Bailey! Bairns involved wasn't they. Lust, pastor Green said -
Lust and carnage, murder . . . Sleet, stone, torment, filth and the
Hung and quartered spoussis? Knock down shame! Isn't it.

I, I Mavis was tempted - by Rathfelder, that's Jones's boy,
He took a shiver up my spine, apples he bought and sweet,
Sweet gluwein. No cheap figs, bah! The Lord does say - Beloved,
When temptation chills your conscience? Flail yourself through
And through! Better to sit on the lip of heaven than to drag
your feet through the lichen clad floor of Satan's village.

Phyllis had her story too. Sorrows and more sorrows. WAS it
worth it, Phyl? No. Just no? Just no, said Phyl, so traumatised
By the event. Jonathan' s mum, also a Mavis, said that yesterday
Felicity, Johnathan's wife, took herself, the 6 bairns and threw
Herself and the lot of them off Crabtree Cliff, Saunders Gorge
Is where theyse all went splat! Phyl said nothing. But her sister,
Hettie said that Phyllis will never ever leave the house again -
Penance.

The politics of Dancing, the Roux, eggs,
Sugar, milk.
Stiches for knife wounds and how do you do?
The semantics of psychotherapy? Yoo Hoo!