Poetic Mechanicals & bloody Laureates

[Sam Lord]

Thanks for posting, Sam. Listened to that twice through and probably will again tonight.

De nada. It's always been a favourite of mine. I used to be able to recite chunks by heart.

Took the philosophy to heart as well ....

[Sam Lord]

The Kamkhars, Persian group, singing the words of Khayam.

YouTube - Khayyam brings out the best of the Kamkars (2009)

And thank you, Cactus.

That was so damn good I stopped drinking for eleven minutes ...

[C. Flower]

And thank you, Cactus.

That was so damn good I stopped drinking for eleven minutes ...

They have more songs.....

[Sam Lord]

They have more songs.....

You can get too much of a good thing ....

[Sam Lord]

Iraq

by Mary Oliver


I want to sing a song

For a body I saw

Crumpled

And without a name

But clearly someone young

Who had not yet lived his life

And never would.

How shall I do this?

What kind of song

Would serve such a purpose?

This poem may never end,

For what answer does it have

For anyone

In the distant

Comfortable country,

Simply looking on?

Clearly

He had a weapon in his hands

I think

He could have been no more than twenty.

I think whoever he was

Of whatever country,

He might have been my brother

Were the world different.

I think

He would not have been lying there

Were the world different

I think

If I had known him

On his birthday,

I would have made for him

A great celebration.

[5intheface]

oops wrong thread

[Sam Lord]

Sex is better in Regina

by Jeanette Lynes

There is now scientific truth, the climax
of long scrupulous research. you've
measured this with the utmost objectivity
in you favourite regina hotel, the one
with the new name each time you come,
the same synthetic rocks in the lobby.
When you enter the lounge for a quiet
drink with an old friend, it's like
stepping into memory's flickering cave.
let's define our terms - old friend -
ex-lover you'll never sleep with
again (those horses paddocked
long ago). Old friend: a man you still
care for enough to nag (he'd better
buy an overcoat if he wants to live);
but not enough not to leave him
slumped over his glass much later
while you shoot up the lift alone
to your room. Your research really
begins here, in the ear, the body
parts bouncing on the bed in the next
room for one hour, nine and a half
bronco-busting 'rock me' minutes.
You're positioned at an objective
distance alone in bed. You hear
the female's yes yes yes,observe
how she agrees with everything
the male says, though he says
very little, how the past is gone
leaving only the doomed utopian future
they marathon to,
how she, if your calculations are correct,
agrees again just at the moment your old friend
downstairs is in all likelihood being shown
the door, the winter night beyond. Agrees
one last time and sounds suddenly very sad

[PaddyJoe]

Sad to hear that Marquez is suffering from dementia:

The brother of Gabriel Garcia Marquez says that the Colombian writer and winner of the 1982 Nobel Prize for Literature is suffering from dementia.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-latin-america-18749389