Just like the title states, what is your favorite poem?
Mine is London by William Blake.
I wander through each chartered street,
Near where the chartered Thames does flow,
And mark in every face I meet,
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every man,
In every infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forged manacles I hear:
How the chimney-sweeper's cry
Every blackening Church appals;
And the hapless soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down palace-walls.
But most through midnight streets I hear
How the youthful harlot's curse
Blasts the new-born infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the marriage-hearse.
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I actually found it from this song (that is based on it):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LIbIK6NSLNU
What is your favorite poem?
The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes
The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding--
Riding--riding--
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.
He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, and a bunch of lace at his chin;
He'd a coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of fine doe-skin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his thigh!
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle--
His rapier hilt a-twinkle--
His pistol butts a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred,
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--
Bess, the landlord's daughter--
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
Dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim, the ostler listened--his face was white and peaked--
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter--
The landlord's black-eyed daughter;
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say:
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light.
Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."
He stood upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair in the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the sweet black waves of perfume came tumbling o'er his breast,
Then he kissed its waves in the moonlight
(O sweet black waves in the moonlight!),
And he tugged at his reins in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon.
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon over the purple moor,
The redcoat troops came marching--
Marching--marching--
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.
They said no word to the landlord; they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed.
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets by their side;
There was Death at every window,
And Hell at one dark window,
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.
They had bound her up at attention, with many a sniggering jest!
They had tied a rifle beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say,
"Look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though Hell should bar the way."
She twisted her hands behind her, but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!
The tip of one finger touched it, she strove no more for the rest;
Up, she stood up at attention, with the barrel beneath her breast.
She would not risk their hearing, she would not strive again,
For the road lay bare in the moonlight,
Blank and bare in the moonlight,
And the blood in her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love's refrain.
Tlot tlot, tlot tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hooves, ringing clear;
Tlot tlot, tlot tlot, in the distance! Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding--
Riding--riding--
The redcoats looked to their priming! She stood up straight and still.
Tlot tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment, she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight--
Her musket shattered the moonlight--
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him--with her death.
He turned, he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the casement, drenched in her own red blood!
Not till the dawn did he hear it, and his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs in the golden noon, wine-red was his velvet coat
When they shot him down in the highway,
Down like a dog in the highway,
And he lay in his blood in the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.
And still on a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a gypsy's ribbon looping the purple moor,
The highwayman comes riding--
Riding--riding--
The highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred,
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter--
Bess, the landlord's daughter--
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
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Will You Be There - Michael Jackson
This Part,...
In Our Darkest Hour
In My Deepest Despair
Will You Still Care?
Will You Be There?
In My Trials
And My Tripulations
Through Our Doubts
And Frustrations
In My Violence
In My Turbulence
Through My Fear
And My Confessions
In My Anguish And My Pain
Through My Joy
And My Sorrow
In The Promise Of
Another Tomorrow
I'll Never Let You Part
For You're Always
In My Heart.
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One of my favorites by William Buttler Yeats
From whence did all this fury come
From empty tombe or virgin womb
Saint Joseph thought the world would melt
But liked the way his finger smelt
There once was a man from Nantucket....
MOD EDIT: Watch the Language!
I have 2 actually
If
by Rudyard Kipling
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, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and 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 you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em 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: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor 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 seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
The Cremation of Sam McGee
by Robert Service
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Now Sam McGee was from Tennessee, where the cotton blooms and blows.
Why he left his home in the South to roam 'round the Pole, God only knows.
He was always cold, but the land of gold seemed to hold him like a spell;
Though he'd often say in his homely way that "he'd sooner live in hell."
On a Christmas Day we were mushing our way over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your cold! through the parka's fold it stabbed like a driven nail.
If our eyes we'd close, then the lashes froze till sometimes we couldn't see;
It wasn't much fun, but the only one to whimper was Sam McGee.
And that very night, as we lay packed tight in our robes beneath the snow,
And the dogs were fed, and the stars o'erhead were dancing heel and toe,
He turned to me, and "Cap," says he, "I'll cash in this trip, I guess;
And if I do, I'm asking that you won't refuse my last request."
Well, he seemed so low that I couldn't say no; then he says with a sort of moan:
"It's the cursèd cold, and it's got right hold, till I'm chilled clean through to the bone.
Yet 'tain't being dead — it's my awful dread of the icy grave that pains;
So I want you to swear that, foul or fair, you'll cremate my last remains."
A pal's last need is a thing to heed, so I swore I would not fail;
And we started on at the streak of dawn; but God! he looked ghastly pale.
He crouched on the sleigh, and he raved all day of his home in Tennessee;
And before nightfall a corpse was all that was left of Sam McGee.
There wasn't a breath in that land of death, and I hurried, horror-driven,
With a corpse half hid that I couldn't get rid, because of a promise given;
It was lashed to the sleigh, and it seemed to say: "You may tax your brawn and brains,
But you promised true, and it's up to you, to cremate those last remains."
Now a promise made is a debt unpaid, and the trail has its own stern code.
In the days to come, though my lips were dumb, in my heart how I cursed that load.
In the long, long night, by the lone firelight, while the huskies, round in a ring,
Howled out their woes to the homeless snows — Oh God! how I loathed the thing.
And every day that quiet clay seemed to heavy and heavier grow;
And on I went, though the dogs were spent and the grub was getting low;
The trail was bad, and I felt half mad, but I swore I would not give in;
And I'd often sing to the hateful thing, and it hearkened with a grin.
Till I came to the marge of Lake Lebarge, and a derelict there lay;
It was jammed in the ice, but I saw in a trice it was called the "Alice May."
And I looked at it, and I thought a bit, and I looked at my frozen chum;
Then "Here," said I, with a sudden cry, "is my cre-ma-tor-eum."
Some planks I tore from the cabin floor, and I lit the boiler fire;
Some coal I found that was lying around, and I heaped the fuel higher;
The flames just soared, and the furnace roared — such a blaze you seldom see;
And I burrowed a hole in the glowing coal, and I stuffed in Sam McGee.
Then I made a hike, for I didn't like to hear him sizzle so;
And the heavens scowled, and the huskies howled, and the wind began to blow.
It was icy cold, but the hot sweat rolled down my cheeks, and I don't know why;
And the greasy smoke in an inky cloak went streaking down the sky.
I do not know how long in the snow I wrestled with grisly fear;
But the stars came out and they danced about ere again I ventured near;
I was sick with dread, but I bravely said: "I'll just take a peep inside.
I guess he's cooked, and it's time I looked"; ... then the door I opened wide.
And there sat Sam, looking cool and calm, in the heart of the furnace roar;
And he wore a smile you could see a mile, and said: "Please close that door.
It's fine in here, but I greatly fear, you'll let in the cold and storm —
Since I left Plumtree, down in Tennessee, it's the first time I've been warm."
There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.
Nothing beats Jabberwocky:
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
He chortled in his joy.
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
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Love's Philosophy
Love's Philosophy - Percy Bysshe Shelley
The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix forever
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In another's being mingle --
Why not I with thine?
See, the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower could be forgiven
If it disdained its brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea; --
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?
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Shared by 2 as was a poem i sent my loved one...
my sis wrote this for me
Wat hs lyf taught me, numbr f things i din want 2 learn.
2 b on ma own,2 care 4 none
reality striked hard upon me
showed me wrld as hell 4 luv
doomed wid hatred as crown
i hd nothin 2 do bt 4 frown
me.. cry wid reality stingin hard on me
cry wid d changes witherin ...
Bt bad alwayz hs sumthin gud 2 show
sumthins u nvr xpct 2 be
god always hs his angels sent 2 ground
n here dey r 2 luk aftr thee
n wid 'u' ma dear bro
i believe he hs evn snt one 4 me.......
Oh freddled gruntbuggly,
Thy micturations are to me
As plurdled gabbleblotchits
On a lurgid bee
That mordiously hath bitled out
Its earted jurtles
Into a rancid festering [drowned out by moaning and screaming]
Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustles
Are slurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts
And living glupules frart and slipulate
Like jowling meated liverslime
Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turlingdromes
And hooptiously drangle me
With crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon
See if I don't.
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by prostetnic vogon jeltz
thank you
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
By: Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae, MD (1872-1918)
Canadian Army
my vote: meatballs
olives.....
1 vote for cheese
For me it needs tomato sauce and cheese........lol
Seriously though, I like it hot & spicy, so peppers, chillies, chicken & onions would do it for me....sometimes with extra sweetcorn or something like that
Then again, you just can't beat the classic margharita!!
Fresh dried tomatos, olives, cheese, & anchovies
Bacon. Lots of it.
Tomato, mozzarella, onions, mushrooms & pesto.
N1c0_ds said:
Bacon. Lots of it.
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*Hiss*
Tunafish and onions
Pesto & mozzarella!
French fries (on a plain Jane Cheese pizza)...don't knock it 'til you've tried it.
sausage & green peppers
F'N YUM!
Bacon, Chicken, Onions, Feta, BBQ-sauce....!
chicken, bacon, red peppers, olives and mushrooms
hmmm...
Best single topping: Pepperoni
Best Topping Combination: X Pepperoni, Bacon, Meatballs
pepperoni would be a better contender if THICK CUT pepperoni was standard on pizza
Ok... we all know that the best answer is CHEESE, as said earlier.. but the best topping besides cheese is Pineapple, or "cube style" pepoeroni
Rusticana.
Definitely human appendages
I like sausages and tomato sauce !
JAguirre1231 said:
Definitely human appendages
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I'm guessing that includes male genitalia.
Everyone posts a joke in this thread. Let's go~
Me first：
A man always cuts cheese when he wakes up every morning. His wife is unable to bear that anymore ，so she tells her husband："If you keep doing that, your bowels will be blown out from your body someday"
Of course her husband dosen't believes her words.He keeps farting every morning.
One morning,wife woke up while her husband was still in bed .She went to the market and bought some chicken and some chicken bowels.When she went back home , her husband was still sleeping. At that moment, an evil idea came into her mind. She filled all the chiken bowels into her sleeping husband's underwear then went into the kitchen.
After a moment ,her husband woke up with a scream and rushed into the bathroom. The woman was so glad that she punished her husband successfully.
30 mins later, her husband went out form the bathroom .
"You are right, honey. I am so sorry ,I didn't follow your words. That horrible thing just happend." Said the husband. "But now everything is all right ! I used my fingers and some petroleum jelly ,I think I just put all my bowels back into my body!"
i would give some but youd have to put up a disclaimer against depravitty on the thread title
I heard this one on the radio:
Have you heard of the octo-mom special going on at Denny's?
It comes with 14 eggs, no sausage and the guy next to you is footing the bill.
did anyone hear bout the dyslexic who walked into a bra?
no??
oh well anywy the other one then
theres this guy called jeff goes into a rooftop bar and orders a pint he starts drinking it
another guy comes over and says scotch is better, it can make you fly so jeff says of course it cant
so the other guy down a scotch and jump out the window and then walks back in minutes later
so jeff asks how does that work, the guy explains that if you down it fast it rasies body temperature therefore hot things rise and you float to safety
so the guys bins the pint orders a scotch drinks it, jump out the windows and smashes into the floor outside
the barkeep tuts looks round at the guy who manged yto complete the challenge and says "superman you really are a wanker when ur drunk"
Im a dyslexic agnostic insomniac...
I stay awake at night wondering if there really is a dog.
A skeleton walks into a bar. The bartender looks at him kind of funny but decides to serve him anyway. He asks "Mr. Skeleton, what can I get you?". the Skeleton says "I'll have a beer and a mop".
Irish bloke goes for a job interview as a blacksmith.
Blacksmith asks "so then son, have you ever shoe'd a horse before"??
Irish bloke then replies "NO but I once told a donkey to F**K off"
I thank you.......
What do you do if you see a spaceman.................
Park in it man.....
I tried to walk into Target but I missed.
Q:Why did the Pope cross the road?
A:He crosses everything! (no offense to Catholics but I don't find this offensive and I'm Catholic.)
Guy: You want to hear a joke?
Friend: Sure.
Guy: Women's Rights (no offense to women)
Guy: You want to hear a joke?
Friend: Sure.
Guy: Civil Rights (no offense to people that find this offensive.)
Guy: You want to hear a joke?
Friend: Sure.
Guy: Steve Jobs
Guy: You want to hear a joke?
Friend: Sure.
Guy: iPad
Guy: You want to hear a joke?
Friend: Sure.
Guy: Apple's products
Knock Knock
Who's There
I eat mop
I eat mop who (sounds like I eat my poo if said aloud)
Q:Why do midgets laugh?
A: The grass tickles their balls.
If a bunch of midgets do the wave, would it be called the ripple?
She was only the admirals daughter, but her navel base was filled with discharged seamen...
Post the lamest jokes you can think of, and lets ROFL everyone!
I'll start:
What did the fish say when it hit the wall?
"Dam!"
Why did the chicken cross the road? Because it wanted to go to the other side.
Swyped from my HTC Sensation
Two cupcakes are sitting in an oven. One cupcakes turns to the other and says, "Man, it's hot in here." The other one looks at him and shouts, "AHHH!!!! A TALKING CUPCAKE!"
A horse walks in a bar and the bar tender asks him "why the long face?"
A mushroom walks into a bar. The bartender says "we can't serve your kind here". So the mushroom says "ah c'mon I'm a fun guy!"
What does a menstruating robot use to catch the bleeding?
An iPad.
"Doc, I can't stop singing 'The green, green grass of home'."
"That sounds like Tom Jones syndrome."
"Is it common?"
"Well........It's not unusual........."
What is a grasshopper's favorite sport?
Cricket.
Two oranges walk into a bar. One turns to the other and says, "You're round".
idavid_ said:
Why did the chicken cross the road? Because it wanted to go to the other side.
Swyped from my HTC Sensation
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This is so stupid I lol
Sent from my SGH-T959 using XDA App
Anyone watching it tonight? I can't watch it! can you guys update here please.
What a upset...... to me it didn't really matter who won but it ticks me off that marquez got robbed.... What is boxing coming to, first ortiz, then hopkins and now marquez
Close fight. I think Marquez should have gotten this one or at least a draw.
The funny thing is, Pacquiao did throw more punches/power punches(according to stats).
I'll copy and paste my post from the other thread:
I agree, Marquez worked Pacman over in that fight and got mugged off by the judges. This is another reason that boxing is dying, the fights are fixed. They did it to ensure a big money fight with Mayweather who must now be able to grow a pair, after seeing that fight, and take the fight with Pacman instead of ducking him.
On the other hand, Junior Dos Santos defeated Cain Velasquez decisively via TKO in the first round to win the UFC heavyweight title whilst carrying a torn meniscus. Whilst there were a few weird judging scores at the UFC event it didn't end up robbing the true winner of the fights as the other judges got it right.
did anyone see the ufc championship it was such a fast ko thought it would be a better fight now lets bring back lesner
Lesnar will get annihilated by Alistair. Once Alistair hits him the first time he will turtle up and run like he always does since he doesn't like getting hit and Alistair his HARD!
The belt will be between JDS and AO. That will be a cracking fight.
Intratech said:
Lesnar will get annihilated by Alistair. Once Alistair hits him the first time he will turtle up and run like he always does since he doesn't like getting hit and Alistair his HARD!
The belt will be between JDS and AO. That will be a cracking fight.
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i cant wait to see it! anderson silva is still pound for pound champ