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Posted on 02/21/2005 9:37:14 AM PST by Soaring Feather
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Hello, bentfeather!
Congrats on the 17th
thread. It's bookmarked.
Hi Uncle, thanks for popping round.
Happy new thread, Miss Feather! How are you today? Enjoying a day off today here, the last day of my long weekend.
WOO HOO Colonel. Hope you are having some rest Colonel.
Kids okay??
LOL it is a funny photo.:-)
Finally caught up to the new thread.
*sigh*
Helga ja I come home, Hagar vants dinner and vere arrrre youuu?
ja poooor Luuudwig hungry tooo!
Ja dere Norskie, Helga is in. Had to move the Long Boat hitting too, many posts.
Hand dere Luuudwig a fish and call it good, he like herring??
Helga got some daisies today, she put some on top of the page for dere Norskie.
Oh my! Enigma!
Poe takes a person in. I just walked in and to see this, I must share that as I am looking direct out my window at several big fat ravens and in my mind I`m hearing rapping tapping! This makes it very hard to come into Enigma when I am hearing cadence to the Raven! One has to really ponder Poe`s writings. What a brilliant writer he was. I wonder what he might have done in later years with this tremendous gift. I am now thinking of The Bells. I remember this one from years ago, taking me on a ride into sound. If any writing can do this The Bells does it.
I have been writing about sound and no sound for two weeks, the contrast of sound. Thank you for posting this. Tonight I will read again, The Bells.
He is brilliant.
Wonderful graphic for this too. Very fitting.
Care to comment on this poem Enigma? I am curious about it, how you came upon it today.
I need to become a figment and get a bite to eat. I have Ludwig kitty too. ;)
Who said? "The hardest thing in life is to know which
bridge to cross and which to burn."
Hint: Writing in the Academic Disciplines:
A Curricular History
Today is Monday, Feb. 21, 2005 with 313 to follow.
The moon is waxing.
The morning stars are Mars,
Venus, Neptune, Jupiter and Pluto.
The evening stars are Mercury, Uranus and Saturn.
Ohhh I don`t wish to be envious of anything in this life, but to hear with my ears Vincent Price to read both of these, I would think I would land on the moon. How fortunate you are.
I hope you can find this song Deep Purple. I love it too. I have a story with my Mother about it. It is one of those songs that plays in your mind.
Bentfeather, I can read it personally, but if you could find it, could you please post The Bells for everyone to see? Maybe some one has not read it. Each person would have their own experience or even non-experience in fairness to each person, but to have it be seen would be something special.
Remember your poem last week with all the ll`s? It really touched me. I had written one and tossed it, it had so many ll`s. I had forgot about The Bells. It would just be so special, if you can find it.
Here ya go MM....
HUGS
The Bells
by Edgar Allan Poe
I
Hear the sledges with the bells-
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
II
Hear the mellow wedding bells,
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten-golden notes,
And an in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells,bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!
III
Hear the loud alarum bells-
Brazen bells!
What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor,
Now- now to sit or never,
By the side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of Despair!
How they clang, and clash, and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows:
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells-
Of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells,bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!
IV
Hear the tolling of the bells-
Iron Bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people- ah, the people-
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All Alone
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone-
They are neither man nor woman-
They are neither brute nor human-
They are Ghouls:
And their king it is who tolls;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A paean from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the paean of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the paean of the bells-
Of the bells:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells-
To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells-
Of the bells, bells, bells:
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells-
Bells, bells, bells-
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
The Raven
by Edgar Allan Poe
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-
This it is, and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door;-
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,
fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"-
Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
'Tis the wind and nothing more."
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and
flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed
he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no
craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown
before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never- nevermore'."
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and
door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he
hath sent thee
Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or
devil!-
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or
devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore-
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked,
upstarting-
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my
door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the
floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted- nevermore!
funny--strange...
I did not have time to post this morning very much, but someone mentioned purple, I think it was LunaRed, and I had read a tiny poem this morning titled ;
The Purple Cow
I never saw a purple cow,
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you anyhow,
I`d rather see than be one.
Gelett Burgees
forgive me on the spelling of name, if wrong.
Then you mention Purple Dream!
Also, I did not see your post here about burning bridges.
I read a poem this very morning by;
Dorothy Parker
SANCTUARY
My land is bare of chattering folk;
The clouds are low along the ridges,
And sweet`s the air with curly smoke
From all the burning bridges.
Interesting .... parallel
Miss you Ms. Feather!
Oh yes, indeed miss you as well. I know you are very busy and it's a good and healthy thing to be busy.
We do so love having you stop into the Lair with a lovely song and graphic. You have such refined, good taste.
HUGS
Thank you Ms. Feather, for the very nice compliment!
I love being here in The Lair, and soon I hope to join you more. Just a few more weeks, then I get to enjoy our poetry. Loved the Poe!
I'll see you soon Ms. Feather!
Thank you Bentfeather.
They make us all think.
This is what life is about. We have an opportunity here to think, and each one make our choices.
I am writing an essay on opposites.
There are mild to extreme opposites in life.
Whose writing or poetry would now be opposite to Poe`s, taking us to light? Does anyone come to mind?
http://scs.student.virginia.edu/~ravens/
http://www.pbs.org/wnet/americanmasters/database/poe_e.html
http://www.tqnyc.org/NYC040522/shortstories/telltaleheart/tellheartmain.htm
http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/poe/
Bentfeather, here is some reading I did this evening to add to this thread file for later reading for anyone.
Thank you for posting for me.
nite nite *
MM
| You Know The Drill Click the pics 
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Coffee & Donuts
ARISE, MY MUSE
John T. Baker
Sam, a perfect poem for calling in the muse. I am enjoying the new song format. Great tunes today.
Thanks much for everything.
Good morning LunaRed. I have brought your poem to the new thread.
Posted by LunaRed to bentfeather
On General/Chat ^ 02/22/2005 7:50:43 AM EST · 1,003 of 1,003 ^
JUDGE YE NOT.....
Before I set about to judge
the people of the world; let
me first dwell wholly within
myself; in all the light and
hidden places.
Let me see the essence of every
fiber, study then analyze it.
To be;
Honest unto honestly
Understanding totally;
The good of me, the bad
The happy, the sad,
The depth and the shallow,
The fulfilled and the lonely,
The near and the far,
All that is all.
Then only, set me free upon
the world, if I yet dare.
I read that someone had lost their muse.
Don't feel too bad, some people never even have a muse to lose. ;-)
The business of life is to go forwards; he who sees evil in
prospect meets it in his way; but he who catches it by
retrospection turns back to find it. That which is feared
may sometimes be avoided, but that which is regretted today
may be regretted again tomorrow.
--Samuel Johnson, Idler #72 (September 1, 1759)
Good afternoon Bentfeather,
Everyone, :-)
...today I hear different bells! *
Poe can take us for a whirl ~
I slept peaceful, and when I awkoke, I found 3 words in my mind.
~ Jerusalem of Gold ~
Forest Gump said that Life was like a box of Chocolates. We never know what next.
It`s like getting on a bus each day and sometimes life has detours. Scenery changes, and I am so happy that it does.
A quote I read by;
Shel Silverstein
"Maybe the way to make everything right is for God to reach out and just turn off the light."
Jerusalem of Gold
The olive tree that stands in silence Upon the hills of time
To hear the voices of the city as bells of evening chime
The Shofar sounding from the temple To call the world to prayer
The Shepard pauses in the valley And a peace is everywhere
Jerusalem, Jerusalem Forever young, yet forever old
My heart will sing your songs of glory
Jerusalem,Jerusalem Oh, city with a heart of gold
My heart will sing your songs of glory
Sean Pambianco (translated) from Hebrew to English
There appears to be several translations of ths song as it was written in Hebrew.
Another translation from Hebrew to English, is by;
Rabbi Jack Gabriel
I walk among your streets and houses
I feel your breath of spring (or and the smell of pine trees)
The song that cries from your stillness
no human tongue can bring
I dream a dream of holy places
within your timeless soul
I am your child across the water
I share the truth you hold
Jerusalem, made of gold
you`re made of copper burning bright
your every song makes me a singer
I need you your light
There is a fourth verse, I believe that can be found on the link that I will post at end.
Forth verse song expresses the sadness that Jerusalem was a divided city. The last line that is quoted to read.
`haloh le` chol sheerayick ani keenor.` Literally, it means "if not for all your songs, I am your violin."
It is generally understood to mean `I am an instrument/vehicle for singing your praise."
http://www.phish.net/faq/yerush.html
The Career of a Song
http://www.jerusalemofgold.co.il/thesong.html
Shoshana Meerkin
Watercolors ~
Old City Charm
http://israelvisit.co.il/shosh/shoshi1.jpg
Jerusalem Morning
http://israelvisit.co.il/shosh/shoshi2.jpg
Yemin Moshe
http://israelvisit.co.il/shosh/shoshi3.jpg
Jerusalem Market Day
http://israelvisit.co.il/shosh/shoshi4.jpg
Eternal Jerusalem
http://israelvisit.co.il/shosh/shoshi5.jpg
Via Delorosa
old city Jerusalem
http://israelvisit.co.il/shosh/shoshi6.jpg
Western Wall Shadows
http://israelvisit.co.il/shosh/shoshi7.jpg
Old City Walls
view towards Damascus gate
http://israelvisit.co.il/shosh/shoshi8.jpg
Jerusalem of Gold
panoramic view
http://israelvisit.co.il/shosh/shoshi10.jpg
http://www.jerusalemofgold.co.il/jeru_gold.jpg
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FLAN
Ingredients:
-3 whole eggs
-3 egg yokes
- 1/4 teaspoon grated lemon rind
-6 Tlbs sugar
-2 1/2 cups whole milk
For Carmelized Sugar
-10 Tlbs sugar
-5 teaspoons water
Instructions:
To make carmelized sugar,
heat the sugar and the water in a small skillet over medium high flame, stirring constantly, until the sugar has turned a golden color.
-Remove from the heat immediately and pour into 6 ovenproof custard cups.
-To make the custard, beat together lightly with a wire whisk the whole eggs and the yokes.
-Add the lemon rind, sugar, and milk.
-Pour into the carmeized cups and place the cups in the pan of hot water.
-Cook on top of the stove over a medium flame for 1 hour.
-Transfer to a 350* degree oven and continue cooking for 25 minutes, or until a knife inserted in the custard comes out clean.
-Remove the cups from the water and cool, then refrigerate.
-To serve, loosen the sides of the custard with a knife and invert onto dessert dishes.
Smile :) eat!
* Be HaP
~ awkoke haha Awoke! ~
you knew that ;)
What a delightful little poem LunaRed, I love it! :)
( I would not wish to be scrubbed with lye soap though!)
I read that tomatoe juice is suppose to take skunk odor away. Fortunately I have never had to find out!
Love da Daisies, Helga!
...vherrre you be? Out in da Long boat wit Hagar? or hmmm...drivin` da Bentley?
norskie ;)
Sammmm!!!
I can hear your muZic ~ I can hear your music every song, all the way to herrrre. I couldn`t before, but today it comes through ~
now I can listen like everybody else can :-)
This is so grand!
Flan how I love Flan. Now you would have to know I am trying to stay away from sweet stuff. LOL I can whip up a wonderful custard with lots of nutmeg sprinkled on the top. I am just nuts about the smell of nutmeg or any spice for that matter.
So glad you can hear the music now. The other format Sam used was called a ram file. I could here it fine, but now we can all hear the tunes Sam plays every day.:-)
I am going for an attitude adjustment to remember my first thoughts upon awaking. Won't promise anything, but I will try.
Hei Hei back to you! :-)
I am glad you enjoyed. I enjoyed the paintings too.
I wish I could serve you some Flan. lol ;) It loves us too. Once in awhile though, it is good to indulge.
Did you happen to catch Sam`s reply to your post about the muse?
Read his tag line, then read his reply. Is he trying to `amuse` ??
or did he just do it on purpose!
Uff`da! :)
dere Helga been cleaning dat closet! Dere Hargar got it stuff with clothes he des not wear. hehehehe.. it's Helga's old clothes not dere Hagar he wears animal skins. uff'da!!
An old college course books.
One book though dere Helga is keeping is "Realm of the Universe." Dere Helga took this course too, and loved it. The professor was a hippy and did not demand tests, provide we came to class, did the reading and in place of tests with his approval we could do projects relating to whatever we were studying at that point. I did a huge abstract picture using melted wax, water colors, daubs of clay -what ever I could get to stick to the heavy paper.
He loved it and gave me a good grade. Then took it to his other class he taught to use in the sessions there- younger students.
He died a few years ago, he was a good professor, one that knew how to teach.
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