Not that I care about the wedding, you understand. But this poem was reportedly read during the ceremony and I like it. Just thought I’d share.
The Life That I Have
The life that I have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have
Is yours
The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.
A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause
For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.
Leo Marks
So you also subscribe to Reader’s Digest?
Yes, actually, but my subscription goes to my mom at her nursing home. I never see it.
I wish this one had been read out during my wedding:
[i]"I’m not in this world, to live up to your expectations,
Neither are you here to live up to mine, yeah.
I don’t owe no one no obligation,
No I don’t mean none, so everything is fine, fine.
I said, I am that I am, I am, I am, I am.
I am that I am, I am, I am, I am.
I am that I am, I am, I am, I am.
I am that I am, I am, I am, I am.
Don’t underestimate, my ability,
Don’t definate my character.
Don’t belittle, my authority,
It’s time you recognized my quality.
I said, I am that I am, I am, I am, I am.
I am that I am, I am, I am, I am.
I said, I am that I am, I am, I am, I am.
I am that I am, I am, I am, I am.
Learn to love, to love your brother,
Don’t covet your neighbour.
Flee from the city,
It’s getting shitty.
It is full of out-a-quity.
I said, I am that I am, I am, I am, I am.
I am that I am, I am, I am, I am.
I am that I am, I am, I am, I am.
I am the rock of the ages, you cannot move I at all.
I am the son of the lightning, you cannot move I at all.
I am the son of Jacob, you cannot move me at all.
I am the son of Moses, you cannot move I at all.
I am the son of David, you cannot move I at all.
I am a firm ripe diamond, no you cannot move I at all.
You could a shed more tears, you cannot move I at all.
You could a full of evil, you cannot move I at all.
You could a try more nutting, you cannot move I at all.
And you can try make a something, that can’t move I at all.
And could a come with ism, you can’t move I at all.
And could come with skism, that can’t move I at all…"[/i]
P.Tosh
This one read at my wedding:
Not Waving but Drowning
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
Obviously not. What’s bred in the bone…
I like the poem. Thanks housecat.
(Sniff) I’m so proud…
I’ve been watching this little girl since “the ugly years” at Sidwell Friends. I remember when she gave up her cherry to that Stanford swimmer, Matthew Pierce… Then six months later, she got all depressed when he dumped her, but caught his fellow swimmer Jeremy Kane on the rebound… Then off to Oxford for a romance with American footballer Ian Klaus (one missed period, but that was a false alarm–probably stress)…
Pimped out by her mom for the campaign against Obama… A bit of a makeover with some celebrity fashion types, and voila! No more horse-face, AND a USD 100,000-a-year consulting job for doing God knows what. Her daddy probably arranged that, as well as her marriage–groom’s family is a bunch of Jewish financiers, don’t ya know. Otherwise she would have picked some athlete.
So, how long do you give them until the divorce?
By the way, Rhinebeck happens to be the headquarters of the Omega Institute (kind of like New York’s answer to Esalen).
A kid maybe two, and the marriage will fizzle, she will rise like a phoenix in some significant way - maybe she’ll start a save the pooch foundation or work for women’ rights and declare war against mistresses or something. She will be back in the limelight and this time her own, the husband however would carry on in the background doing whatever he should not be doing. I give 5 years before fizzledom hits.
Why can’t she be more like Bristol?
When You are Old
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
–W. B. Yeats
Probably not so appropriate for a wedding. More for the spinster or bachelor, but it’s beautiful.
Just not much of a risk-taker, I guess…
Or she could be more like Angelina!
Some Clinton photos have yet to be released…and I don’t mean from the wedding! Yeah, they say Bill’s manhood is spiral-y, like a pig’s. (From overuse?) I wonder if this has had any genetic influence on the morphology of Chelsea’s nethers? (She’s probably just flared real wide like her mother. Surrounded by curly red hair…sigh!) Somebody should definitely write a poem about that. Too bad I won’t be there to toast the happy couple…
[quote=“Jaboney”]housecat, there’s more on the history of the poem here.
Interesting, tragic story.[/quote]
Good catch Jaboney. Saw that also.
[quote=“Jaboney”]housecat, there’s more on the history of the poem here.
Interesting, tragic story.[/quote]
Indeed, nice catch. Something about that poem keept tapping at the back of my mind, but I couldn’t get it. It think I knew this before, but had forgotten it. Reading the article, I do remember a prof talking about poetry as code durring the war. Anyway–thanks!