Discussion Thread II: Bots? What bots?
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- Maxine MagicFox
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- Location: Pennsylvania
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The Hollow Men
T. S. Eliot
Mistah Kurtz—he dead.
A penny for the Old Guy
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
Remember us—if at all—not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.
II
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death’s dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind’s singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.
Let me be no nearer
In death’s dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer—
Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom
III
This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man’s hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.
Is it like this
In death’s other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.
IV
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river
Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death’s twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.
V
Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o’clock in the morning.
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
tl;dr a lovely poem
T. S. Eliot
Mistah Kurtz—he dead.
A penny for the Old Guy
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;
Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
Remember us—if at all—not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.
II
Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death’s dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind’s singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.
Let me be no nearer
In death’s dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat’s coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer—
Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom
III
This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man’s hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.
Is it like this
In death’s other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.
IV
The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms
In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river
Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death’s twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.
V
Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o’clock in the morning.
Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow
Life is very long
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
tl;dr a lovely poem
- Kinokokao
- ItL Moderator
- Posts: 11414
- Joined: Thu Jun 05, 2008 4:24 am
- Location: Las Vegas, NV
- Contact:
Sighing, and sadly sitting by my love,
He asked the cause of my heart's sorrowing,
Conjuring me by heaven's eternal King
To tell the cause which me so much did move.
Compelled (quoth I), to thee will I confess,
Love is the cause, and only love it is
That doth deprive me of my heavenly bliss.
Love is the pain that doth my heart oppress.
And what is she (quoth he) whom thou dost love?
Look in this glass (quoth I), there shalt thou see
The perfect form of my felicity.
When, thinking that it would strange magic prove,
He opened it, and taking off the cover,
He straight perceived himself to be my lover
~Richard Barnfield~
KKINO I FUKKIN LOVE YOU MAN
-
Twat
- Our Returned Beloved
- Posts: 7375
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Maxine, o' Maxine. But a moment on the itinerary of life I would ask you to bless of me.
Winter fades and spring sets in,
The smell of the air is intoxicating,
While love an passion are growing thin,
A pain settles in my heart, I'm waiting.
Yet love still flows like freshly melted creeks,
The sound almost as angelic as your voice,
I rub my hand across your cherry cheeks,
Wanting to stay, afraid its not my choice.
A noble mist beyond the mystic falls,
Portrays an astounding sight for the eyes,
Grief of words past written on invisible walls,
In search of a pure truth beyond the lies.
Forget it were my slips that made us tumble,
I can't walk without your hand holding mine,
All loves will trip, yes all will surely stumble,
Though ours with time gets sweeter like wine.
A beautiful face appears in the dark calm of night,
Warm breezes caress me like your gentle breath,
I can see through the mist, so close yet not quite,
Life without you the one thing worse than death.
Freely as rivers flow thoughts of you they roam,
I promise I'll always be there to answer your calls,
Keep porch lights on In case you decide to come home,
Waiting forever alone, in the mist beyond the falls.
Winter fades and spring sets in,
The smell of the air is intoxicating,
While love an passion are growing thin,
A pain settles in my heart, I'm waiting.
Yet love still flows like freshly melted creeks,
The sound almost as angelic as your voice,
I rub my hand across your cherry cheeks,
Wanting to stay, afraid its not my choice.
A noble mist beyond the mystic falls,
Portrays an astounding sight for the eyes,
Grief of words past written on invisible walls,
In search of a pure truth beyond the lies.
Forget it were my slips that made us tumble,
I can't walk without your hand holding mine,
All loves will trip, yes all will surely stumble,
Though ours with time gets sweeter like wine.
A beautiful face appears in the dark calm of night,
Warm breezes caress me like your gentle breath,
I can see through the mist, so close yet not quite,
Life without you the one thing worse than death.
Freely as rivers flow thoughts of you they roam,
I promise I'll always be there to answer your calls,
Keep porch lights on In case you decide to come home,
Waiting forever alone, in the mist beyond the falls.
- Maxine MagicFox
- ItL Webmaster
- Posts: 13474
- Joined: Wed Feb 27, 2008 12:20 pm
- Location: Pennsylvania
- Contact:
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