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The Blog at The End of the Universe : Musings on Life, the Universe and Everything
Archive for Poetry
July 29, 2010 at 1:28 am · Filed under Making fun of ridiculous beliefs, Poetry, Religion
Down With Fanatics!
If I had my way with violent men
I’d simmer them in oil,
I’d fill a pot with bitumen
And bring them to the boil.
I execrate the terrorist
And those who harbour him,
And if I weren’t a moralist
I’d tear them limb from limb.
Fanatics are an evil breed
Whom decent men should shun;
I’d like to flog them till they bleed,
Yes, every mother’s son,
I’d like to tie them to a board
And let them taste the cat,
While giving praise, oh thank the Lord,
That I am not like that.
For we should love the human kind,
As Jesus taught us to,
And those who don’t should be struck blind
And beaten black and blue;
I’d like to roast them in a grill
And listen to them shriek,
Then break them on the wheel until
They turned the other cheek.
- Roger Woddis
July 19, 2010 at 4:47 pm · Filed under Poetry
I Had a Hippopotamus
I had a hippopotamus; I kept him in a shed
And fed him upon vitamins and vegetable bread.
I made him my companion on many cheery walks,
And had his portrait done by a celebrity in chalks.
Read the rest of this entry »
June 29, 2010 at 4:10 pm · Filed under Poetry
I’ve always been happy about the fact that whatever other stupid shit I may have been guilty of, I never wrote the kind of self-indulgent “poetry” that makes me want to smack every skinny jean wearing haiku-spouting hipster I meet in the face with a potato.
Until now.
I am going into hiding, pending the arrival of a barrage of potatoes headed in my direction. Until I return (post potato-fusillade), please enjoy tolerate this verse, about Looking back on my Twenties
twenties were messy apartments, late mornings
lazy afternoons, crazy nights, hazy sunrises
rooftop beers with friends, ideas and bubbly pipes
The Thirties are going to be awesome…
June 27, 2010 at 3:25 am · Filed under Poetry
Television
The most important thing we’ve learned,
So far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near your television set –
Or better still, just don’t install
The idiotic thing at all.
Read the rest of this entry »
January 30, 2009 at 7:55 pm · Filed under Poetry
King Francis was a hearty king, and loved a royal sport,
And one day, as his lions fought, sat looking on the court.
The nobles filled the benches, with the ladies in their pride,
And ‘mongst them sat the Count de Lorge, with one for whom he signed:
And truly ’twas a gallant thing to see that crowning show,
Valor and love, and a king above, and the royal beasts below.
Ramped and roared the lions, with horrid laughing jaws;
They bit, they glared, gave blows like beams, a wind went with their paws;
With wallowing might and stifled roar they rolled on one another,
Till all the pit with sand and mane was in a thunderous smother;
The bloody foam above the bars came whisking through the air;
Said Francis then, “Faith, gentlemen, we’re better here than there.”
De Lorge’s love o’er heard the King, a beauteous lively dame,
With smiling lips and sharp bright eyes, which always seemed the same;
She thought, The Count my lover is brave as brave can be;
He surely would do wondrous things to show his love of me;
King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the occasion is divine;
I’ll drop my glove, to prove his love; great glory will be mine.
She dropped her glove, to prove his love, then looked at him and smiled;
He bowed, and in a moment leaped among the lions wild:
The leap was quick, return was quick, he has regained his place,
Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the lady’s face.
“By Heaven,” said Francis, “rightly done!” and he rose from where he sat;
“No love,” quoth he, “but vanity, sets love a task like that.”
- James Leigh Hunt
January 12, 2009 at 2:24 pm · Filed under Poetry
A man said to the universe:
“Sir I exist!”
“However,” replied the universe,
“The fact has not created in me
A sense of obligation.”
by Stephen Crane
December 14, 2008 at 3:17 am · Filed under Poetry
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly. And listen to others, even to the dull and ignorant, for they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, for they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for there will be always greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements, as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble. It is a real possession in the changing fortunes of life.
Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is. Many people strive for high ideals and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love. For in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings, for many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars. You have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive him to be. And whatever your labours and aspirations in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.
This prose poem was written by Max Ehrmann (1842-1945) in the 1920s. Desiderata is Latin for “desired things”.
by Gaddis
by Harris
by Sachs
