“They saw their injured country's woe;
The flaming town, the wasted field;
Then rushed to meet the insulting foe;
They took the spear, - but left the shield.”
―Philip Freneau
.
And by a prudent flight and cunning save A life which valour could not, from the grave. A better buckler I can soon regain, But who can get another life again?
Archilochus
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Left Profits from Internationalized Politics?
Can Conservatives Match Them or Are We Too Divided by Patriotism?
NOTHING COMING, NOT A THING COMING”. The clatter of this noise. ‘I’ slithers up unheard, unnoticed… could be a mere orchestra of this din. Up close, I’s wallops were familiar… Wanton strides, the “Nothing” snug astride. Wish that explains this clumsy gait, the medallion wedged in its balls… titillations coming forth, pleasant vibes of the nether zones, an orgasm building up. The glimmer lost in visceral fluids. ‘I’ gropes then in a fantastic darkness. Groping for a grip… grabs upon the solitary medal and wipes off the muck … a fumble follows, the medal pocketed for another time. ‘I’ clears the throat and a clamor again … “Nothing Coming, Not a thing coming”. The ‘I’ vanishes alongside, was perhaps only a din.
Myrtle was thought a particularly potent aphrodisiac. The female pudendum, particularly the clitoris, was known as murtos (myrtle). As goddess of love and sex, Venus played an essential role at Roman prenuptial rites and wedding nights, so myrtle and roses were used in bridal bouquets; but the marriage itself was under the authority of Juno, not Venus; so myrtle was excluded from the bridal crown.
But Hrmodius! I will be like your myrtle, your myrtle in which the sword was hidden.
Why, what you tell changes the entire meaning of it. This is what i like about 'texts', they are eager to 'explode', as it were. ;) The sword hidden inside the myrtle! lol!
And thanks. I was familiar with a part of it but not all.
6 comments:
Never thought of it this way Actually, it can be a good talking point.
But, unfortunately, i am brain-dead these days:
NOTHING COMING, NOT A THING COMING”. The clatter of this noise. ‘I’ slithers up unheard, unnoticed… could be a mere orchestra of this din.
Up close, I’s wallops were familiar… Wanton strides, the “Nothing” snug astride.
Wish that explains this clumsy gait, the medallion wedged in its balls… titillations coming forth, pleasant vibes of the nether zones, an orgasm building up.
The glimmer lost in visceral fluids. ‘I’ gropes then in a fantastic darkness. Groping for a grip… grabs upon the solitary medal and wipes off the muck … a fumble follows, the medal pocketed for another time.
‘I’ clears the throat and a clamor again … “Nothing Coming, Not a thing coming”. The ‘I’ vanishes alongside, was perhaps only a din.
A little death...
btw - Ya gotta watch those "myrtle" stories... ;)
Myrtle was thought a particularly potent aphrodisiac. The female pudendum, particularly the clitoris, was known as murtos (myrtle). As goddess of love and sex, Venus played an essential role at Roman prenuptial rites and wedding nights, so myrtle and roses were used in bridal bouquets; but the marriage itself was under the authority of Juno, not Venus; so myrtle was excluded from the bridal crown.
But Hrmodius! I will be like your myrtle, your myrtle in which the sword was hidden.
Why, what you tell changes the entire meaning of it. This is what i like about 'texts', they are eager to 'explode', as it were. ;) The sword hidden inside the myrtle! lol!
And thanks. I was familiar with a part of it but not all.
It's what I love about them too. It also opens up Catullus a bit... and gives you a whole new appreciation for his insight as a poet. ;)
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