Poetry and life
Feb. 3rd, 2009 09:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
acquiescenceSo life ... it's going, as usual.
I bought season 1 of 'How I Met Your Mother' today since it was super cheap at target. I don't know why no one told me about this show before now. I mean it's on it's 3rd season now? And Barney - he's perfect. Have I told you of my love for NPH?
I hate cedar. I think I'm going to be coughing and sneezing and sniffling for forever.
I have an appointment with my endocrinologist tomorrow morning - not sure what all he's going to tell me. I doubt he's going to say much though. I mean ... my endocrines they're not too bad. And I don't have cancer like he tried to scare me into thinking, so yeah. I suppose it's just a check up.
I need to go see my lady doctor at some point too before I'm booted off the insurance. It's been like 2 years now - but I don't like going to her:
1. I don't like taking off my clothes for people, even SOs.
2. She works with my mom
3. So while she is feeling me up and stuff she's chatting about my brother and sisters and my mom and playing catch up on the family gossip.
4. No one likes seeing the lady doctor.
But I suppose I should go - being that there have been several changes in my life since the last time I went to see her. Ah to be young and innocent again - and to be able to use the virgin excuse for not getting a pelvic exam. I miss those days.
And now finally, after all that. I saw this little thing on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dramaphile's lj and had to repost.
When you see this, post your favorite poem
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.
Oh Coleridge how I love your wonderful use of erotic imagery to describe the poetic process. One day I am going to finish that paper on catharsis and the creative process as exampled by the Romantic and Victorian poets, particularly Coleridge and Wordsworth.
I bought season 1 of 'How I Met Your Mother' today since it was super cheap at target. I don't know why no one told me about this show before now. I mean it's on it's 3rd season now? And Barney - he's perfect. Have I told you of my love for NPH?
I hate cedar. I think I'm going to be coughing and sneezing and sniffling for forever.
I have an appointment with my endocrinologist tomorrow morning - not sure what all he's going to tell me. I doubt he's going to say much though. I mean ... my endocrines they're not too bad. And I don't have cancer like he tried to scare me into thinking, so yeah. I suppose it's just a check up.
I need to go see my lady doctor at some point too before I'm booted off the insurance. It's been like 2 years now - but I don't like going to her:
1. I don't like taking off my clothes for people, even SOs.
2. She works with my mom
3. So while she is feeling me up and stuff she's chatting about my brother and sisters and my mom and playing catch up on the family gossip.
4. No one likes seeing the lady doctor.
But I suppose I should go - being that there have been several changes in my life since the last time I went to see her. Ah to be young and innocent again - and to be able to use the virgin excuse for not getting a pelvic exam. I miss those days.
And now finally, after all that. I saw this little thing on
dramaphile's lj and had to repost. When you see this, post your favorite poem
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.
Oh Coleridge how I love your wonderful use of erotic imagery to describe the poetic process. One day I am going to finish that paper on catharsis and the creative process as exampled by the Romantic and Victorian poets, particularly Coleridge and Wordsworth.
no subject
Date: 2009-02-04 07:42 am (UTC)Ah to be young and innocent again - and to be able to use the virgin excuse for not getting a pelvic exam.
Sweetie, you can be old and 'innocent', but you still need the exam. Or at least that's what everyone more or less yelled at me when they learned I was 26 and had never done the gynie duty.