Hobo Jungle
Is this any good?
628. Ode on Melancholy
NO, no! go not to Lethe, neither twist
Wolf's-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kist
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
Make not your rosary of yew-berries, 5
Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
A partner in your sorrow's mysteries;
For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul. 10
But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose, 15
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
Or on the wealth of globèd peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes. 20
She dwells with Beauty˜Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight 25
Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung. 30
628. Ode on Melancholy
NO, no! go not to Lethe, neither twist
Wolf's-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kist
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
Make not your rosary of yew-berries, 5
Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
A partner in your sorrow's mysteries;
For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul. 10
But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose, 15
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
Or on the wealth of globèd peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes. 20
She dwells with Beauty˜Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight 25
Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;
His soul shall taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung. 30
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San Diegan
It's the shades...chicks dig the shades.
"There is no limit to what a man can do or where he can go if he doesn’t mind who gets the credit."
MartyE.com and KodiakJunction.com Home to Kodiak Junction U.S.A.
MartyE.com and KodiakJunction.com Home to Kodiak Junction U.S.A.
I'm drinking a beer to the hobo right now. Might have two to him, so there.
"I sometimes think that women could change culture. The type of man attractive women decide they want changes everything. That’s what happened in the sixties. Women decided they wanted guys who believed in kindness and peace, suddenly a lot of men became that, and things started to really change for a while. Now I guess women have gone back to wanting the rich and powerful ones like always. Of course women are just as programmed and conditioned as men. Who knows? I guess it’s a pretty stupid idea."
--Kelly Harris
"I sometimes think that women could change culture. The type of man attractive women decide they want changes everything. That’s what happened in the sixties. Women decided they wanted guys who believed in kindness and peace, suddenly a lot of men became that, and things started to really change for a while. Now I guess women have gone back to wanting the rich and powerful ones like always. Of course women are just as programmed and conditioned as men. Who knows? I guess it’s a pretty stupid idea."
--Kelly Harris
New Joke
New Joke. for kelly.
So one night the moon is out full. And so is a penis. The moon says, "Hmmm, want me to Google you?" The penis says nothing, just pulses hard. Moon shines, as always. They both come together like crazY.
So one night the moon is out full. And so is a penis. The moon says, "Hmmm, want me to Google you?" The penis says nothing, just pulses hard. Moon shines, as always. They both come together like crazY.
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San Diegan
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