Showing posts with label Emily Dickinson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Emily Dickinson. Show all posts

01 February 2011

MY Super Bowl Half-time Show!


With the Super Bowl just a few days away, I was thinking about a half-time show that I'd want to see (i.e., NOT the Black Eyed Peas, or the Rolling Stones, or Janet Jackson, or the Who...)

No, I'd want one that, since the big games in Dallas, is a Texas-/cowboy-themed half-time show!  And, sure, some of these folks are dead, but that shouldn't stop Jerry Jones!

John Wayne (True Grit clip)

Dean Martin ("Houston")

George Strait ("All My Exes Live in Texas")

Emily Dickinson ("Yellow Rose of Texas")

Tanya Tucker ("When I Die")

John Denver ("I'd Rather Be a Cowboy")



And, as far as a prediction of the game goes, as much as I'd like the Packers to win (ya gotta love Bart Starr and Vince Lombardi, after all!), I just don't see how anyone can bet against the Steelers. 

Pittsburgh 24, Green Bay 17

06 March 2010

The Seven Deadly Sins: Sin #4: ANGER

Top three angry titles:

3) 12 Angry Men

2) Look Back in Anger

1) Hedwig and the Angry Inch



And, now, a poem by Emily Dickinson:

Mine enemy is growing old, —
I have at last revenge.
The palate of the hate departs;
If any would avenge,—

Let him be quick, the viand flits,
It is a faded meat.
Anger as soon as fed is dead;
'Tis starving makes it fat.

14 April 2009

It's odd how the mind makes connections...

...but I'm unsure if it was the chambers, the death, or the (Ivory) snow.

Safe in their Alabaster Chambers—
Untouched by Morning—
And untouched by Noon—
Lie the meek members of the Resurrection—
Rafter of Satin—and Roof of Stone!

Grand go the Years—in the Crescent—above them—
Worlds scoop their Arcs—
And Firmaments—row—
Diadems—drop—and Doges—surrender—
Soundless as dots—on a Disc of Snow—

Emily Dickinson, version of 1861