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You + Me. Food, Buildings, Animals, etc.

Funeral Home Reality Show

They should make a reality show that is also a contest between two families that takes place in a funeral home. The premise of the show would be to see which family could have the best funeral party ever. This guy up above would be the host - John Coffin.

Blue/Orange/White

I have figured it out. The reason as to why the New York Mets, Knicks, and Islanders all stink. Think about it. What do they have in common? Other than that they all stink. Think...think... Yes! It was so obvious wasn't it. Their colors! Orange, blue, and white. All three of them.

The Mets haven't won a World Series title since 1985. They've been back once since in 2000.
The Knicks haven't won since 1970. They haven't made it deep into the playoffs in ten years.
The Islanders were good from '77-'84 but other than that, no.

Here's my suggestion. The Knicks have always been orange and blue and those colors are theirs since they've been around longer. Keep that. Its a good look. The Mets should really change their style. Its lame. Its outdated. Its over. Go crazy, start fresh. That team really needs to get something going to get their fans riled up again. As for the Islanders, they should just fold altogether. Instead of wearing blue and orange jerseys start wearing black suits.

Something i wrote in the car

Where's this napkin? here we go.

God is why?
In the ticks
Before her final tock,
Do we all not ask,
"God please help us"?
Don't we all miss
Being youth?
Why am I considered?
No human is considered but,
Tall, Fat, Lazy, Brown Haired, Able.
A Proper Name is the clue here,
Go ahead and spin the wheel.

The Silken Tent

I know, but it helps me work more easily, having it right there and all...

She is as in a field of silken tent
At midday when the sunny summer breeze
Has dried the dew and all its ropes relent,
So that in guys it gently sways at ease,

And its supporting central cedar pole,
That is its pinnacle to heavenward
And signifies the sureness of the soul,
Seems to owe naught to any single cord,

But strictly held by none, is loosely bound
By countless silken ties of love and thought
To every thing on earth the compass round,
And only by one's going slightly taut

In the capriciousness of summer air
Is of the slightlest bondage made aware.

-Robert Frost
_____________________________________
One long sentence.

One student in class mentioned how the poem could be considered sexually mischevious. I say yes to that. And towards the end of class, it was brought up that this poem was created during the war. Almost every sentence could be sexual code for soldiers going to tents to find girls to please. When the breeze of a sunny summer comes and the ropes relent, it reminds me a calming feeling. Maybe to express the pleasure men receive.
And its supporting cedar pole, which could be a fallic symbol, points to Heaven. Perhaps to signify that its human nature to mate. Not mate, but to do the do. His sureness of the soul is his knowing the reason why we live. And he's not tied down by any one, strictly held by none. But he is loosely bound, by his trysts during war downtime. To every thing on Earth, the compass round. War is a global event. Soldiers go to foreign lands, everywhere on the compass.
Taut means tangled. A slighttest bondage, a connection but minor. Not deep, but just for kicks.

inspiring works

hd "epitaph"
brand new "seventy times 7"
brand new "jesus christ"
eminem "as the world turns"
MY NAME
"One night when the lawn was a golden green and the marbled moonlit trees rose like fresh memorials in the scented air, and the whole countryside pulsed with the chirr and murmur of insects, I lay in the grass feeling the great distances open above me, and wondered what I would become—and where I would find myself— and though I barely existed, I felt for an instant that the vast star-clustered sky was mine, and I heard my name as if for the first time, heard it the way one hears the wind or the rain, but faint and far off as though it belonged not to me but to the silence from which it had come and to which it would go."
-Mark Strand

sudden fiction "i love you"

 HOWL

                   For Carl Solomon

                          I

      I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
             madness, starving hysterical naked,
      dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn
             looking for an angry fix,
      angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly
             connection to the starry dynamo in the machin-
             ery of night,
      who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat
             up smoking in the supernatural darkness of
             cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities
             contemplating jazz, -allen ginsberg

Orlanda Blues - 9th chorus

Me, I'm worried I'm a secret sinner
 and God
         Ole Tangerine
        I call        Him
   because one day I was settin
 under trees
        in
        a
                 chair

And deciding what name
  to give to God, is it
    a personal God? & blam
    the little tangerine
              landed
            squarely
                on my
                  head
          like Newton's
            underwear,

   & so I saw it personal
And I say the moral is simple - jack kerouac

talib kweli, a rapper, has a good use of words. nice vocab.


"wanna be good to you"

We make the squares dance, and get the dough$$ like dosey
Y'all niggaz roll with pussy-cats like Josey
All spoiled rotten like ghetto groceries
I clutch the mic(rophone) like ya grandma clutch her rosary
Swooping the industry, like a bird to prey
My stanzas has got stamina, ya verses lack vertebrae
How many niggaz ever been in love?
How many niggaz really think they thugs
And can't think without the drink and drugs?
How many niggaz can't get in with hats and sneakers on?
Say 'fuck security' and get inside and keep them on
How many niggaz think that gats(guns) make the weaker strong
Can't do for self and wanna snatch the plate you eating on
That don't take heart, slave, nigga play ya part
I'd rather jump over board nigga, face the sharks

As if some little arctic flower...

As if some little arctic flower,
Upon the polar hem,
Went wandering down the latitudes,
Until it puzzled came
To continents of summer,
To firmaments of sun,
To strange, bright crowds of flowers,
And birds of foreign tongue!
I say, as if this little flower
To Eden wandered in--
What then? Why, nothing, only
Your inference therefrom!

-Emily Dickinson

http://www.poetry-archive.com/d/as_if_some_little_arctic_flower.html

When I first read this poem, I couldn't help but personify the little flower she speaks of. I actually pictured a little arctic flower, I gave it a cornflowery color, travelling down the latitudes closer towards the equator. Hotter and hotter. I figured that all the arctic flower has seen is white. No other beings, perhaps no other flowers either.

Emily takes the solitary flower from the Arctic frost, and puts it in the middle of all the action. "To the continents of summer." The flower has never known what summer is. Blazin' heat on your back. Trips to the beach, where the water is warm, not frozen. Running around with shorts and t-shirts on, free as a bird. "To firmaments of sun". It feels the power of the sun for the first time.

"To strange, bright crowds of flowers, And birds of foreign tongue!"

Is this what it's like to be a traveller to a foreign country? It's more than a flower. Flowers can not transport themselves to vast lands. Emily talks about people. People who know certain cultures and temperatures then go to another land where everything is opposite. (they drive on the left side of the road in Europe. the driver's seat is on the right side of the car)

"What then? Why, nothing, only Your inference therefrom!" - When I read this, I feel as if Emily is talking to us as if'd we'd ask, "what then?" or "ok, so what's the point of you telling us this?" Then she tells us "why nothing, only Your inference therefrom!" or "nothing. it's just for you to learn and think about. it's whatever you want to make of it" She's letting us take meaning out of this poem. Sometimes we are the arctic flower that comes from nowhere and ventures into a new zone we are unfamiliar with. Sometimes we are the birds flying around the strange, bright flowers we're used to, when suddenly we spot a new flower that is unlike any we've seen before.