[5488] in Central_America
New quotes for Mon Jun 20
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Central America)
Mon Jun 20 03:02:34 1994
Date: Mon, 20 Jun 1994 03:02:01 -0400
From: Central America <root@charon.MIT.EDU>
To: ca-mtg@charon.MIT.EDU
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sgw (stephen g. wadlow):
And now I know
Spanish Harlem are not just pretty words to say
I thought I knew
But now I know that rose trees never grow in New York City
Until you've seen this trash can dream come true
You stand at the edge while people run you through
And I thank the Lord there's people out there like you
I thank the Lord there's people out there like you
While Mona Lisas and Mad Hatters
Sons of bankers, sons of lawyers
Turn around and say good morning to the night
For unless they see the sky
But they can't and that is why
They know not if it's dark outside or light
This Broadway's got
It's got a lot of songs to sing
If I knew the tunes I might join in
I'll go my way alone
Grow my own, my own seeds shall be sown in New York City
Subway's no way for a good man to go down
Rich man can ride and the hobo he can drown
And I thank the Lord for the people I have found
I thank the Lord for the people I have found
Mona Lisas And Mad Hatters
- Elton John/Bernie Taupin
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sorokin (Jessie Stickgold-Sarah):
The longings of women
Marge Piercy
The longings of women:
butterflies beating against
ceilings painted blue like sky;
flies buzzing and thumping their heads
against the pane to get out.
They die and are swept off
in a feather duster.
The hopes of women are pinned
after cyanide by rows
labeled in Latin
the fragile wings fading.
The keeper speaks with melancholy
of how beautiful they were
as if he had not killed them.
The anger of women runs like small
brown ants you step on,
swarming in cracks in the pavement,
marching in long queues
through the foundation and inside,
nameless, for our names
are not yet our own.
But we are many and hungry
and our teeth though small are sharp.
If we move together
there is no wall we cannot erode
dust-grain by speck, and the lion
when he lies down is prey
to the army of ants.
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therese (Therese):
Don't jump too high, and knock out the sun
Don't stray too far, out on your own
When you finally come knocking, there'll be nobody home
Nobody home
- Heart
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yandros (Chad Phillip Brown):
So, depressing poetry doesn't seem to be Sal's thing, although I did
get some less negative comments (and even some poetry!) from some
other people.
Instead, today I'll simply include a description of this past week in
my life.
Wow.
There; that was easy, wasn't it?
--
<a href="http://www.mit.edu:8001/people/yandros/home.html">chad</a>
--- End of Central America ---
