Topic: !*!*!*!*! <<< The New 4:20 Clubhouse>>> !*!*!*!*!*!* - part 2 | |
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How is everybody doing over here today?? I hope well!! |
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Samuel Taylor Coleridge---Kubla Khan
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree : Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round : And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover ! A savage place ! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover ! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced : Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail : And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean : And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war ! The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves ; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves. It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice ! A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw : It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware ! Beware ! His flashing eyes, his floating hair ! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise. |
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ODE TO THE WEST WIND
by: Percy Bysshe Shelly (1792-1822) I. O WILD West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being, Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, Pestilence-stricken multitudes: O thou, Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed The wingèd seeds, where they lie cold and low, Each like a corpse within its grave, until Thine azure sister of the spring shall blow Her clarion o'er the dreaming earth, and fill (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) With living hues and odors plain and hill: Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere; Destroyer and preserver; hear, oh, hear! II. Thou on whose stream, 'mid the steep sky's commotion, Loose clouds like earth's decaying leaves are shed, Shook from the tangled boughs of Heaven and Ocean, Angels of rain and lightning: there are spread On the blue surface of thine airy surge, Like the bright hair uplifted from the head Of some fierce Mænad, even from the dim verge Of the horizon to the zenith's height, The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge Of the dying year, to which this closing night Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre, Vaulted with all thy congregated might Of vapors, from whose solid atmosphere Black rain, and fire, and hail, will burst: oh hear! III. Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, Lulled by the coil of his crystalline streams, Beside a pumice isle in Baiæ's bay, And saw in sleep old palaces and towers Quivering within the wave's intenser day, All overgrown with azure moss and flowers So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou For whose path the Atlantic's level powers Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear The sapless foliage of the ocean, know Thy voice, and suddenly grow gray with fear, And tremble and despoil themselves: oh, hear! IV. If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear; If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee; A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share The impulse of thy strength, only less free Than thou, O uncontrollable! if even I were as in my boyhood, and could be The comrade of thy wanderings over heaven, As then, when to outstrip thy skyey speed Scarce seemed a vision; I would ne'er have striven As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need. Oh! lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud! I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed! A heavy weight of hours has chained and bowed One too like thee: tameless, and swift, and proud. V. Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is; What if my leaves are falling like its own! The tumult of thy mighty harmonies Will take from both a deep, autumnal tone, Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe Like withered leaves to quicken a new birth! And, by the incantation of this verse, Scatter, as from an extinguished hearth Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! Be through my lips to unwakened earth The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind, If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind? |
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Stanzas Written In Dejection---Percy Bysshe Shelly
The sun is warm, the sky is clear, The waves are dancing fast and bright, Blue isles and snowy mountains wear The purple noon's transparent might, The breath of the moist air is light, Around its unexpanded buds; Like many a voice of one delight, The winds', the birds', the ocean floods', The City's voice itself, is soft like Solitude's. I see the Deep's untrampled floor With green and purple seaweeds strown; I see the waves upon the shore, Like light dissolved in star-showers, thrown: I sit upon the sands alone, - The lightning of the noontide ocean Is flashing round me, and a tone Arises from its measured motion, How sweet! did any heart now share in my emotion. Alas! I have nor hope nor health, Nor peace within nor calm around, Nor that content surpassing wealth The sage in meditation found, And walked with inward glory crowned - Nor fame, nor power, nor love, nor leisure. Others I see whom these surround - Smiling they live, and call life pleasure; - To me that cup has been dealt in another measure. Some might lament that I were cold, As I, when this sweet day is done, Which my lost heart, too soon grown old, Insults with this untimely moan; They might lament -for I am one Whom men love not, -and yet regret, Unlike this day which, when the sun Shall on its stainless glory set, Will linger, though enjoyed, like joy in memory yet. Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony. |
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Fire it up
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Fire it up Smoke 'em if you got 'em |
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Fire it up Smoke 'em if you got 'em eeeeeeuuuuuuu..that baby needs some help don't you have another better picture to grace my 4:20 thread with ??? |
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hey nessa
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please pass it along if you have it this thread is for generous people who share it cause that is how it was when i was growing up & still is and babies and young children should not be here |
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hey nessa Hello Martin i was thinking of the name Warren when i forgot yours cause i have been listening to a lot of Warren Zevon lately but i knew that wasn't it.. .so i had to go back & look |
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too funny. i dont look like a warren, or do i? hmmmmm
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he looks more like a MARTY!!!!!!!!!
Hey vanessa!!!!!!!!!!! how are ya this evening????? |
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he lucky for you beckie i like it when women call me that
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too funny. i dont look like a warren, or do i? hmmmmm well, i don't think you look like a Martin either and Warren Zevon was the Bomb & soo talented too and he had an IQ higher than Einstein |
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he looks more like a MARTY!!!!!!!!! Hey vanessa!!!!!!!!!!! how are ya this evening????? Hi there Becky I'm doing alright thank you Sis could be doing lots better though i get crabby sometimes when i am out I wish i had some good smoke and one of Dee's Magic Bottomless Green Bud Pipes ...it's after 5 PM here and they still haven't fed my Mother and her neck hurts & she is uncomfortable & she's been in the Hospital for over 24 hours my Brother is calling her nurse to see what is up |
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i never did like hospitals
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he lucky for you beckie i like it when women call me that well all the girls better start calling you <<< Marty >>> then but i like full names usually i think Martin is cool I like different names ''' like Bartholemew .... but not Bart ... and I love the name Sebastian or Bastian was cute on the Never Ending Story that was a great movie |
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i never did like hospitals yeah...me neither but she is better off where she is than where she was all alone...& sick...& dehydrated and 800 miles away we could have easily lost her if everyone didn't act quickly I praise God that she is alright she is such a blessing |
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this is a picture of my beautiful & handsome Family on Easter Sunday 1958
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