BuelahMan's Revolt

A Redneck's Guide To Reversing The Corptocracy Brainwashing

Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

I’d Rather Use A Cavalier Poet Than A Blue Pill

Posted by BuelahMan on May 6, 2012

From an old friend:

 

Erotic Verse for Erectile Dysfunction

I was at a party some years ago, and because I had had a few drinks I don’t remember what prompted it, but I found myself reciting Tennyson’s “The Charge of the Light Brigade.”  It was one of several poems my 11th grade English teacher had made us memorize back in the 1940s, and the only one that I still remembered.

One of the assembled group turned out to be a physician.  I gathered that he had had several drinks, himself.  He took me aside and told me that he had a poem to recite, but he couldn’t do it in mixed company.  He had heard it recited in medical school with great enthusiasm and to great effect by a lecturer on erectile dysfunction, which was called “impotence” in those days.  The lecturer, a man well into his 70s, told them that in the Victorian era doctors often gave erotic poems of this sort to their patients who complained of low charges in their sexual batteries, as he put it.

By the time this doctor had gone into practice, pornographic novels and short stories were more widely available and doctors were less apt to get in trouble with the law if they gave them to patients, as had been the case earlier.  For patients with shorter attention spans, the lecturer still thought the poem was effective, and he had passed out mimeographed copies to his students, all of whom were male, of course, .

The doctor said that in the early years of his practice he had used the poem, even giving it to women complaining of “frigidity,” and many of them had expressed gratitude afterward.  As poetry appreciation had virtually disappeared among the general population and much more graphic forms of stimulation had become widely available, the poem had long since gone into disuse.

With that background, the doctor then recited the following:

Memorable Encounter

It started with a winsome smile.

The inch forthwith became a mile.

My joy at drinking in her face.

Was multiplied by her embrace.

The course before me felt so right.

Like the daytime follows night.

And presently she did accede

To my quickly building need.

The door behind which treasures hide

For me, for once, was opened wide.

I found the world’s most perfect fit

And slipped into the heart of it.

Mounted for a bumpy ride,

I could not have been more satisfied.

Each jolt of sweaty syncopation

Filled me with exhilaration,

As I watched her ringlets bounce

And squeezed out pleasure by the ounce.

The splendor of that scenery

Was just about too much for me.

I fixed upon one peak of bliss

And planted there a parting kiss.

Neither of us was steady enough to do much writing, so I simply gave him my card and asked him if he would mail the poem to me, which he promptly did, written out in a much clearer hand than you see on the usual prescription.

I was naturally curious about the poem’s authorship, and the doctor told me that he was, too, after he had heard the unforgettable recitation.  The lecturer said that it was surely one of the English cavalier poets, possibly Robert Herrick.  He was known to have written much racier poems even than “The Vine,” but the others were too strong to publish, and were kept going as oral tradition.  This particular poem was so popular in that tradition, the lecturer said, that the “mounted” line was the real reason that they had acquired the name, “Cavalier poets.”  It was meant as a sort of inside joke.  Or, at least, that is what he had been told.

Not being much written down, it’s likely that it could have been modified through the years to conform more to the evolving language, and some lines could have been dropped.

It didn’t take me long to commit the poem to memory, the first time I’d done that since high school.  Now that I’m started on the computer, I thought I’d share it before it gets lost completely.

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Posted in BuelahFamily & BuelahFriends, Poetry | 11 Comments »

Obama 2012…. Please???

Posted by BuelahMan on April 12, 2012

I know you won’t let him down, either, even tho he has dicked you around. You poor, ignorant bastards.

From DCDave:

Mister Big

If you haven’t really thought it through,

You might declare otherwise,

But in America ultimate power resides

With the one who controls the lies.

Follow @BuelahMan

Did I rub you the wrong way or stroke you just right? Let me know below in the comments section or Email me at buelahman {AT} g m a i l {DOT} com

If for some reason you actually liked this post, click the “Like” button below. If you feel like someone else needs to see this (or you just want to ruin someone’s day), click the Share Button at the bottom of the post and heap this upon some undeserving soul. And as sad as this thought may be, it may be remotely possible that us rednecks here at The Revolt please you enough (or more than likely, you are just a glutton for punishment??), that you feel an overwhelming desire to subscribe via the Email subscription and/or RSS Feed buttons found on the upper right hand corner of this page (may the Lord have mercy on your soul).

All posts are opinions meant to foster comment, reporting, teaching & study under the “fair use doctrine” in Sec. 107 of U.S. Code Title 17. No statement of fact is made or should be implied. Ads appearing on this blog are solely the product of the advertiser and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of BuehlahMan’s Revolt or WordPress.com

Posted in Accountability, Responsibility & Answerability, Barack Obama, Big Money, Cheats and Scoundrels, Corruption, DC Dave, demoRATs, Demublican/Repubocrat Party, NeoLiberal Criminals, Poetry, REAL State of the Union | Tagged: | Leave a Comment »

If

Posted by BuelahMan on March 30, 2010

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream–and not make dreams your master,
If you can think–and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings–nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And–which is more–you’ll be a Man, my son!

–Rudyard Kipling

h/t stacyherbert at MaxKeiser.com

Posted in Max Keiser, Poetry, Video | Tagged: | Leave a Comment »

B’Man’s Sabbath Watch: Biblical Telle by StudwithSwag

Posted by BuelahMan on March 29, 2009

A Biblical Telle

I am worth more than these 6 colors, 4 initials, gay flags, and pride parades.
I am defined by more than my baggy pants, wife beater shirts and low cut fades.
But, lately, I find myself slipping into melancholy hissy fits, debating Religion and Sexuality with bible-thumping nit-wits.
They refer to the creator, who painted oceans red with blood and molded earth before giving us breath through love.
Him, who fought battles with darkness and light, only to lose the fight, win, and lose again.
Ultimately flooding the earth over because he might have messed up… in the beginning.
All the while my spirituality attempts to veer within reason, make understanding of me succumbing to my lesbian feelings.
Instead, I choose to further explore, no more fighting off those fears, I wanted a bite of that Apple, for it is that which I held dear.
They say it’s the Devil trying to entice me to him, I say where in the bible it says the Devil preferred men?
I remember way back when, asking my pastor some questions, but I told him, take your blinders off first, before answerin’ em. Then I asked how come religion is separated into Churches, Mosque’s, and Synagogues and people are taught differently using the Bible, the Koran and the Torah?
Why do different denominations nit pick at tid bits as if that 1 verse found in Leviticus makes all of the fuckin’ difference?
All the while every Sunday they’re asking for forgiveness, must be nice to fill them pews every weekend with repentive sinners and hung-over hypocrites.
And now everything is commercialized, pastors making millions as televangelists.
This ain’t what Jesus had in mind……………………….. further justifying my lack of respect of it.
Because inside all those religious walls you’ll find a similar mindset,
You can change the atmosphere, but it’s the same damn environment.
In God’s will I trusted and served and throughout my teenage years I never sexually interacted.
I learned the best knowledge one can discover can’t be learned in Church or map-quested.
But I never choose ungodly fashions, instead standing at His attention because in His name I manifested.
When it came to sexuality and women, every where I turned It seemed like I was tempted.
I chalked it up to my inner demons and lack of Christian-like intentions for wanting to fulfill carnal desires, masked as Jezebel like wickedness.
On Sunday’s proverbs and psalms were recited, inciting many epiphanies,
foretelling the separation of me from my church and various states of mental tease.
In one ear she’s whispering .. sweet nothings to me, “don’t worry about religion, just give me what my body needs.”
And damn those times when my flesh caught urges and my blood was hot inside of me.
And when release wasn’t found in another, I sought her, and she was far more womanly.
You see I watched her and it felt good watchin’, like that time I left my web cam on when we…. Oh shit…. wrong memory.
Now I’m not discounting the fact that I was baptized at 9, I’m a born again lesbian in that respect.
Nails against backs, nostrils flared, like heathens we’d pant as she baptized me in her sweat.
And in my thoughts, as I reflect, I secretly chanted and did a church dance.
I idolized the silhouette of her lying across my chest, unrushed, though from that point on they said the devil was inside of us.
I stood my ground despite my family’s fuss, exposed my soul and prepared for when tears and blood became synonymous.
I remember growing up, feeling the confusion of living under such stringent principles,
rgid concepts creating fear in the minds of those who neither protest nor question Religion in general.
Many a time I stumbled yet my pride refused to fall, so while I was suspended in midair I used that second to grasp my thoughts.
Finally realizing that the religion God speaks of is unconditional love.
Copyright ©2008

(submitted with permission)

Posted in B'Man's Sabbath Watch, Poetry, Religion | Tagged: | Leave a Comment »

Jen’s Update: From Her Heart To Yours

Posted by BuelahMan on January 19, 2009

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TR sent notification this morning (do I have to explain how I dread and look forward to these writings at the same time?)

I know that the “next” one will be the news. Each time I see the notice in my email inbox, I begin to shake. I can’t really explain how this woman has touched my life where it would make sense to anyone. I love Jennifer because she is one of the few truly open and honest people I ever knew. She cares for people and lets you know (much unlike me, where I do not communicate this as often as I should). She was there for me in a very hard time of my life (few people even know this).

If there is a God, this is the type of person He dwells within. If there are Godly attriubtes to describle Jennifer, it would be that she mimics (without intent and forethought) the teachings of Jesus Christ in the NT. She personifies Christianity to me… the REAL Christianity, not this bullshit stuff that our country has enveloped.

But today, which may be the last day on earth for my ‘Lil Sis, TR shared a poem Jen wrote about her mother, Kathy (and it is Kathy that has passed her grace to Jen, for they are very much alike in this way).


poem from the archives

entry by TRH from TN

despite the congenital tumor that will soon take my sister to God, she gloriously mined her talents, and according to her advisor Ann Loux at least, was the finest writer in her college class.

as most writers are, she is pretty private and critical of her own work, but i’m taking the liberty of posting this very special piece here as she nears her eternal reward:

“Mother”

By Jennifer Herzog Clark

You are the final raindrop of the sunshower

to be caught in the well-lined palm of the

child’s hand, my hand

until you melt into my existence

forever.

******

You are the face of the violet

strong and purple in selfless devotion

like the waltz of the sunset

on early spring evenings

there is rainbow in your voice which touches

me.

******

You are the branches of the dogwood

spilling out to cradle

white satin blossoms with

elegant balance

You spread out in fingers

You point to the

heavens.

******

Mother, you are love

in nature’s form

You bless me in warm sun

and grace liquid sky and thick earth

with your very

soft

breath …

Posted in Jen's Update, Poetry | Leave a Comment »

Poets Against War

Posted by Lynda on April 26, 2008

When I look around… I DO see and find people that are ‘taking a stand’ against wrongs.. When I came across this, I literally could ‘feel’ the ‘strength of his conviction’ in his words. I thought I would share….

lrose

Commentary by Poet Sam Hahill
Five years ago this week, Poets Against War was born as the poets of the United States, almost unanimously, made the decision to stand together to speak publicly against the murderous intentions of our government. But this is, alas, an anniversary for which there is little reason to celebrate. Over the past five years we remained nearly impotent as we witnessed the greatest assault on our civil liberties since the Civil War; we have been nearly impotent in the face of mass murder in Iraq, Afghanistan and elsewhere, almost impotent in our opposition to the exploitation of fear as our government’s primary political tool of expediency, impotent in our opposition to torture. As any reasonable student of history must admit, the United States government is, and for more than a century has been, the world’s most accomplished terrorist organization.

The great nineteenth century historian, Frederick Jackson Turner, observed in 1893, “For nearly three centuries the dominant fact in American life has been expansion,” predicting those policies, born in the genocidal solution to “the Indian problem,” would force overseas expansionism. The U.S. struggle for world dominance began with the Spanish-American War, where our government betrayed the trust of Cuban patriots struggling for democracy and our soldiers learned, in the Philippines, to pump salt water down the throats of people to make them talk. Whole towns and villages were razed, often with our soldiers killing every man, woman and child over the age of ten.

In 1902, when President José Santos Zelaya of Nicaragua refused to turn his country over to American businessmen wanting to built a canal between the Pacific and Atlantic oceans, his government was overthrown by our government. In 1903, when Colombia refused to cater to the whims of Washington, our government invented modern “gun-boat diplomacy,” and carved a new country, Panama, out of Colombian soil. And from those years of carnage, the “American century” was born. And for more than one hundred years we have propped up murderous dictators and sabotaged democracies to make the world safe for U.S. corporate murderers and thieves.

U.S. Marine Corps Gen. Smedley Butler, who twice received the Medal of Honor for his work in Central and South American, compared his work to that of Al Capone. Stephen Kinzer’s remarkable and thoroughly documented history of our corporate-government collaboration in worldwide terrorism throughout the 20th century, Overthrow, is chilling and compelling reading. It should be in every high school and college curriculum in our country.

To understand why the U.S. is so despised by so many Iranians, one needs to go back to 1953, when Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadegh, a progressive and democratic leader, decided that Iranians should share in the prosperity of their own natural resources, and nationalized his country’s oil industry that had been run by British corporations. He offered generous recompense, including a reasonable share in future profits. But the U.S. responded by creating chaos in his country, overthrowing his government and re-installing Mohammed Reza Shah on the Peacock Thrown, beginning Iran’s years of dictatorship and suffering that concluded in the eventual coup that brought Ayatollah Khomeini and fundamentalist Muslim fanatics into power. Our government (Reagan and Rumsfeld) followed these disgraceful actions by arming Saddam Hussein for his war against Iran.

The same stories have happened again and again: in Guatemala, Honduras, Nicaragua, El Salvador, Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, Chile, Argentina, Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, Panama, and on and on. Choosing time after time a leadership that arrogantly and ignorantly proclaims, “We are the greatest country on earth!” and “God is on our side!” we have left in our wake a veritable tsunami of human suffering. It is humiliating and intolerable that time after time U.S. international corporations have stuffed their pockets with despicable wealth as a result of that human suffering. And in recent years we have become increasingly aware that these profits also come at the direct expense of endangering the entire planet.

Democracy depends on tolerance and dialogue. As a nation, we have demonstrated neither. Nor are we democratic: if we had been truly democratic, George W. Bush would never have taken up residence in the White House. We are the most powerful nation on earth. But there is no virtue in absolute power. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. The corrupt and powerful corporate Americans that have financed the overthrowing of democratic governments and the installation of tyrants around the world also control mass media in the U.S.A.— the very mass media responsible for the successful indoctrination of the people in the peddling of and pandering to the politics of fear and hate and murder. The “liberal” New York Times played a major role in the lead-up to the present disastrous war, as it has in so many others.

It is time to declare an end to “the American century,” time to face our own history of demagoguery and hegemony. We who are poets are among the most literate people of our nation. We owe it to our country and to the world to become better citizens of this world, to stand for truth and compassion in the face of terror and mass murder.

Last week, Reuters news service reported that more than one million Iraqis have died in George Bush’s war. It is virtually impossible for anyone to comprehend what one million bodies looks like, impossible for one mind to comprehend what misery and sorrow and rage follows in the wake of one million dead people. The Iraqi people had nothing to do with the events of September 11, 2001. The Iraqi people never threatened the people of the United States in any way. Now their country lies in ruins and the true death toll will never be known. And their blood is on our hands.

Now we read about the madness of returning veterans, about the lack of hospital and psychological care and treatment for returning veterans, about the homelessness and depression of returning veterans. It is, alas, a very old, sad story.

One year ago, it was my privilege to travel through Vietnam with the good people from The Joiner Center for the Study of War and Social Consequences at the University of Massachusetts and to observe as they conducted interviews with 1st, 2nd, and 3rd generation victims of Agent Orange. I watched people—young and old— dying horrible deaths by cancer and saw children born with horrendous birth defects crying constantly in grief and agony. And I realized that thirty or forty years from now this will all be repeated in Iraq, a consequence of the use of depleted uranium we used in our weapons of mass destruction in our unprovoked attack.

Read article: Agent Orange Deforming a Third Generation in Vietnam By Tom Fawthrop, Comment Is Free
If we do not hear the cries of suffering from this world, what kind of people will we become? What kind of people are we? We have, as a nation, a long deplorable history of turning our backs on the suffering we author, both at home and abroad. We have a long inglorious history of turning a deaf ear to the cries of pain and pleas for mercy that follow in the wake of our violence.

Traveling the world these past five years, I have heard again and again, “Americans simply don’t learn from history.” From Vietnam to Egypt, New Zealand to Lithuania, Italy to Colombia and Venezuela, it has been the same story. And they are right, of course. We seem to have learned nothing from the defeat of French colonialism in Vietnam and Algeria, nothing from the defeat of English colonialism in India and Africa, nothing from our own experience in Vietnam. We repeat the same redundant misery-making, the same arrogant slaughters, while the Haliburtons and the Bechtels pocket billions of dollars.

But only in the United States have I been told that “poetry doesn’t matter any more,” that “poetry is useless.” Only in the United States have I been asked by journalists, “Why can’t you poets just leave the politics out of it?” What a remarkably, stunningly illiterate question. The answer to the latter: “Because we are citizens of this country and of the world, and we are all in this world together.” The answer to the former declaration: “Because poetry has the ability to open people’s eyes and hearts, to change lives one life at a time.”

Poets Against War has friends and allies all over the world. Everywhere I have traveled I have heard heart-felt declarations and seen real tears of profound gratitude for the stand we have taken. When we began five years ago, we were in a minority in our opposition to the war in Iraq. Today, seventy-five percent or more of the American people agree with us. Our world is less safe and our country is less democratic and less respected than ever before. Five years ago, George Bush’s approval ratings stood at eighty-one percent; today it is in the twenties. Our terrible predictions have been painfully realized.

War criminals like Reagan and Rumsfeldt (who armed Saddam Hussein and sponsored Iran-Contra), Henry Kissinger (who is responsible for millions of deaths in Southeast Asia and in Central and South America), Bush, Cheney and Karl Rove never stand trial for their crimes against humanity while lining their pockets and those of their cronies with blood money. We who have pen in hand can allow the Republicrat-Demopublican party to revise history, like Soviet historians, or we can insist on truth. Ronald Reagan didn’t bring down the Soviet regime; bad government did. Bad government is bringing down the American empire as well. Our government tells us that we can afford to spend hundreds of billions of dollars on the destruction of other peoples and countries, but we cannot afford a reasonable national system of health care—unlike every other industrialized country in the world. While the world addresses global warming and greenhouse gasses, the United States alone sabotages the Kyoto agreements.
We must condemn every act of violence, no matter the source, and insist that Palestinians and Israelis alike give up violence and accept borders as they were established many years ago. These children are the future of the world. We can teach them to hate and to kill, or we can insist that there is another way, a way that can be found only in mutual dialogue and in tolerance. And to those who say I speak of a utopian dream, I ask a simple question: How many murdered, maimed or orphaned children are enough?

In this election year, we will hear a lot about how “we live in the greatest country on earth.” Any politician who says such a thing is living proof to the contrary. There is no “greatest country on earth.” That is, in itself, an arrogant and infantile concept. We will become a great country only when we insist on real democracy, liberty, and the value of human life, only when we elect a government that believes truth and compassion—and a little humility—are the most meaningful ways to combat the politics of fear. It is time for us all—poets, farmers, business leaders, politicians, teachers, clerks—time for us all to become better citizens of the world. —Sam Hamill

 
“…Live Simply, Love Generously, Care Deeply,
Speak Kindly and Leave the Rest to God. …”

Posted in Dissent, Lynda, Poetry | 4 Comments »

alsvlog 25 they took away my country : Online Video | Veoh Video Network

Posted by BuelahMan on March 23, 2008

Al explains the state of his circumstance and condition (which is so similar to America’s circumstance and condition).

from www.veoh.com posted with vodpod

Posted in Accountability, Responsibility & Answerability, Corruption, Neocon Criminals, Poetry, REAL State of the Union, ReTHUGlican | Leave a Comment »

 
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