Let’s grill poetic

Just posted on a poet-friend’s blog:

enough. let’s talk
about the way the sun
falls on evergreens
late morning, in California

everything you need to know
of light and shadow
is summarized outside
your bedroom window

the needles of the trees
never struggle, never flee
just await the old
inevitable exchange

so fight, always
the urge to summarize
to skim the day for
the things you are waiting for

no moment is
less true, less a part
of this, the only story
you will ever write

than any other

Favorite poems anyone?

149 comments to Let’s grill poetic

  • avatar

    from memory:

    whenas in silks my julia goes
    then, then methinks, how quickly flows
    the liquefaction of her clothes.

    next, when i cast mine eyes and see
    that brave vibration each way free
    oh, how that glittering taketh me.

    i also love manley hopkins’ windhover (i caught this morning morning’s minion) and margaret (margaret are you weeping, over golden grove unleaving).

    keptchup bottle keptchup bottle,
    none will come, and then a lot’ll.

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    methinks*

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    fixed

    If this is His will, He's a son of a bitch.
  • avatar

    Bookmarked. Thanks.

    Bloombait.

    Also, this.

    {waits for Dial C to get to this grill}

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    I like this. I’ll check when I get home to see if I have anything to contribute.

  • avatar

    In this life
    we stand on the roof of Hell
    gazing at flowers.

    Kobayashi Issa

  • avatar

    The crowd picks up
    the chant of “Defense!”
    Robiskie and Banaszak
    are the backs

    slot right

    Branch inside
    Bradshaw
    Stabler back
    here comes the rush
    he sidesteps
    can he throw?

    he can’t!

    the ball
    flips forward
    there’s a wild scramble
    two seconds on the clock
    Casper grabbing the ball
    it is ruled
    a fumble
    Casper has recovered
    in the end zone
    the Oakland Raiders have scored
    on the most

    zany

    unbelievable

    absolutely

    Impossible Dream of a play

    Madden is on the field
    he wants to know
    if it’s real

    they said

    “Yes,
    get your big butt out of here!”

    he does

    there’s nothing real
    in the world anymore

    –Bill King

    Never suck on a Blow Pop with the microphone open.
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    free-versy! just plain free-versy!

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    now
    the pitch

    swung on
    there’s a
    HIGH DRIVE
    hit way back
    right centerfield

    that one is

    GONE

    and it’s
    TWENTY
    consecutive victories
    for the Oakland Athletics

    on an
    unbelievable night
    when they lost an
    eleven to nothing lead
    and now
    they WIN IT

    Hatteberg is mobbed
    at home plate
    the crowd comes back to
    INSANE LIFE

    crazy

    just
    plain
    crazy

    how do you explain it?

    Never suck on a Blow Pop with the microphone open.
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    we should have a reading. candle light, espressos, berets. a little king free verse, a few ray hudson haiku, some dadaist nonsense by joe buck…

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    {snap snap snap snap snap snap}

    There's a wild thing in the woolshed and it's keeping me awake at night.
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    Oh god, not the snaps. NOT THE SNAPS

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    To win this ballgame
    To go out and pitch so well
    How great does it feel

    TINSTAAFK
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    And thus, the Ray Fosse School of Japanese Poetry was established.

    Never suck on a Blow Pop with the microphone open.
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    How great was it
    To play like shit
    Winning the game
    Just the same
    With one dink hit.

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    The heart and hustle
    The never-quit of these A’s
    Reminds me of Dibs

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    Very nice!

    "Kraut will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no kraut."
  • avatar

    I’m of the opinion that a poem can’t be truly great unless it includes a rhyme for “Nantucket.”

    "Kraut will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no kraut."
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    If Chickie were here, he’d cluck it.

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    He went to a show…

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    With some hookers and blow?

    az di bobe volt gehat beytsim volt zi geven mayn zeyde
  • avatar

    This Louisville-Notre Dame hoops game just keeps on going.

    "Kraut will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no kraut."
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    Speaking of which, how ’bout them Tar Heels? I mean, this was the last year to win ACC and look at them suffer…

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    I don’t recall a Heels team that has failed to gel together like this one has. Lot of talent, zero coordination. Freshman pointguard Paige has not been up to the task.

    "Kraut will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no kraut."
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    Yeah, player for player, they look scary.

  • avatar

    In the Desert
    By Stephen Crane

    In the desert
    I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
    Who, squatting upon the ground,
    Held his heart in his hands,
    And ate of it.
    I said, “Is it good, friend?”
    “It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;

    “But I like it
    “Because it is bitter,
    “And because it is my heart.”

  • avatar

    Seven guys within four strokes of the lead in the final round at Pebble Beach. Ex-Cal Bear and Alameda Hornet James Hahn has a share of the lead at this writing. Hopefully things will be up for grabs right to the end, because the 18th hole at Pebble is the most beautiful golf hole in the world. If you’re bored around 3:00 the endgame might be worth a look.

    "Kraut will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no kraut."
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    More on Hahn: learned on the “oh-so-public” Chuck Corica courses in Alameda…I’ve played there! Also quit Cal golf team as a junior in a fight with the coach. A stroke back of Snedeker at the moment.

    "Kraut will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no kraut."
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    Bedbait?

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    I have a feeling we’re not in Arkansas any more!

    "Kraut will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no kraut."
  • avatar

    I was trying to develop a printable limerick for a family publication, but I backslud:

    The sultry young lass was a sinner,
    Thought Cap Morgan who had her to dinner.
    They drank rum by the cup,
    Then both her knees went up,
    As a bit of the Captain was in ‘er.

    The meaning of life is not so much found, as it is Made. -- Opus
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    I think I’d change line 2 to “Brought Cap’n Morgan to dinner” and line 4 to “Both her knees then went up”

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    Okay.

    The meaning of life is not so much found, as it is Made. -- Opus
  • avatar

    In other news, does this hipster image remind anyone of anybody?

    The meaning of life is not so much found, as it is Made. -- Opus
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    Oh snap, where’s the messenger bag?!

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    who?

    In play, run(s)! Talk dirty to me gamecast, talk dirty. - Nevermoor
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    You (only) need to grow a beard.

    The meaning of life is not so much found, as it is Made. -- Opus
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    Ive had for 6 months.

    I would never wear that ridiculous hat!

    In play, run(s)! Talk dirty to me gamecast, talk dirty. - Nevermoor
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    You have? Maybe when it comes in more …

    And just wait ’til some french girl gives you that hat.

    The meaning of life is not so much found, as it is Made. -- Opus
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    I had it most of last season and when I saw you at the ff.

    I cant grow a super thick thing. It just makes me look unatractive and homeless.

    I am thinking about ditching the beard.

    Good point on the french girl thing, but most hats make me look stupid.

    In play, run(s)! Talk dirty to me gamecast, talk dirty. - Nevermoor
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    Liar. You’d totally wear that hat ironically.

  • avatar

    Wow.

    "Kraut will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no kraut."
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    I saw that too and *loved it*.

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    This is pure awesome.

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    The best part is how all of the lower case i’s are dotted with a heart. Punk as FK!

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    It’s especially great when you do that to an “i” that doesn’t even belong in “Dead Kennedys.”

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    Fashists with a heart over the i is awesome!

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    Butterflies are also pretty punk.

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    Light blue ink is totally punk

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    “If the Dead Kennedies don’t like the man so don’t I” is the closest I’ve come to sig-changing in a long time.

    If this is His will, He's a son of a bitch.
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    Too bad unicode doesn’t have an “i dotted with a heart” symbol.

    TINSTAAFK
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    “Dead Kenned❣es”
    almost

    TINSTAAFK
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    This whole subthread is hylaryous.

    "Once you go Kay there is no other way."- Bed
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    Pretty in Punk.

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    Nice!

    "Kraut will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no kraut."
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    It’s true, lying doesn’t count in a library. That’s where they go to bury them after all.

  • avatar

    Returning to theme, Neruda.

    Drunk as drunk on turpentine
    From your open kisses,
    Your wet body wedged
    Between my wet body and the strake
    Of our boat that is made of flowers,
    Feasted, we guide it – our fingers
    Like tallows adorned with yellow metal -
    Over the sky’s hot rim,
    The day’s last breath in our sails.

    Pinned by the sun between solstice
    And equinox, drowsy and tangled together
    We drifted for months and woke
    With the bitter taste of land on our lips,
    Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime
    And the sound of a rope
    Lowering a bucket down its well. Then,
    We came by night to the Fortunate Isles,
    And lay like fish
    Under the net of our kisses.

    If this is His will, He's a son of a bitch.
  • avatar


    I am hearing that the #Athletics are close to an agreement with LHP Hideki Okajima.
    @susanslusser
    Susan Slusser

    And I have to say: mikev is one of my favorite people on here -slusser
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    How does this make any sense? He hasn’t been good since 2008 and even back when he was good, he was pretty much the same pitcher as Blevins. Plus, the lefty depth in the bullpen is Doolittle, Blevins, Figueroa, Norberto, Werner, and even Blackley. I guess it depends on the contract… minor league deal, I hope.

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    He had really good numbers in Japan last year. I’ve posited this before but I think the A’s are planning to stretch out Norberto and Figueroa as starters in AAA to make up for our shaky depth there. It’s cheaper and easier to do than signing someone like Saunders and both Norberto and Figueroa have some upside.

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    huh. I did not realize that he pitched in Japan last year; I figured he was hurt or something. Your explanation makes sense.

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    I think Figueroa is out of options, unless he is eligible for a 4th one for some reason.
    Tough call on what to do with him. As you say, he has some upside, but he hasn’t really proved he belongs in the majors yet.

    TINSTAAFK
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    Wow, I did not realize he’s been on the 40 man for so long. Didn’t he have TJS a couple years ago? I don’t remember it off the top of my head but I think there’s a provision about players needing to spend a certain amount of time on an active roster or a fourth option comes into play that might apply here.

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    I think he would get one. See Dan Meyer.

    In play, run(s)! Talk dirty to me gamecast, talk dirty. - Nevermoor
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    Looks like he missed most of 2011, so you’re probably right. I don’t remember the exact rule either.

    TINSTAAFK
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    If he did and never got optioned to AAA for that, then I’d guess that option wouldn’t have been used.

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    I agree with that.

    In play, run(s)! Talk dirty to me gamecast, talk dirty. - Nevermoor
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    I’d love if they stretched both out. Norberto was doing well as a starter in the DR last winter.

  • avatar

    Pjesma mrtvog pjesnika
    Moj, prijatelju mene više nema,
    Al nisam samo zemlja, samo trava,
    Jer knjiga ta, što držiš je u ruci,
    Samo je dio mene koji spava.
    I ko je čita u život je budi.
    Probudi me, i bit ću tvoja java.

    Ja nemam više proljeća i ljeta,
    Jeseni nemam, niti zima.
    Siroti mrtvac ja sam, koji u se
    Ništa od svijeta ne može da prima.
    I što od svijetlog osta mi života,
    U zagrljaju ostalo je rima.

    Pred smrću ja se skrih (koliko mogoh)
    U stihove. U mraku sam ih kovo,
    Al zatvoriš li za njih svoje srce,
    Oni su samo sjen i mrtvo slovo.
    Otvori ga, i ja ću u te prijeći
    Ko bujna rijeka u korito novo.

    Još koji časak htio bih da živim
    U grudima ti. Sve svoje ljepote
    Ja ću ti dati. Sve misli. Sve snove,
    Sve što mi vrijeme nemilosno ote,
    Sve zanose, sve ljubavi, sve nade,
    Sve uspomene — o mrtvi živote!

    Povrati me u moje stare dane!
    Ja hoću svjetla! Sunca koje zlati
    Sve čeg se takne. Ja topline hoću
    I obzorja, moj druže nepoznati.
    I zanosa! i zvijezda kojih nema
    U mojoj noći. Njih mi, dragi, vrati.

    Ko oko svjetla leptirice noćne
    Oko života tužaljke mi kruže.
    Pomozi mi da dignem svoje vjeđe,
    Da ruke mi se u čeznuću pruže.
    Ja hoću biti mlad, ja hoću ljubit,
    I biti ljubljen, moj neznani druže!

    Sav život moj u tvojoj sad je ruci.
    Probudi me! Proživjet ćemo oba
    Sve moje stihom zadržane sate,
    Sve sačuvane sne iz davnog doba.
    Pred vratima života ja sam prosjak.
    čuj moje kucanje! Moj glas iz groba!

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    I can not believe nobody ever translated that to English. Seriously, what the fuck is wrong with my country?

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    I do love the sound of Slavic verse, even when I don’t understand all of it. My favorite Russian poem/song:

    Esli ya zaboleyu

    Esli ya zaboleyu,
    k vracham obraschat’sya ne stanu,
    Obraschayus’ k druz’yam
    (ne sochtite, chto eto v bredu):
    postelite mne step’,
    zanaves’te mne okna tumanom,
    v izgolov’e postav’te
    nochnuyu zvezdu.

    Ya hodil naprolom.
    Ya ne slyl nedotrogoy.
    Esli ranyat menya v spravedlivyh boyah,
    zabintuyte mne golovu
    gornoy dorogoy
    i ukroyte menya
    odeyalom
    v osennih tsvetah.

    Poroshkov ili kapel’ – ne nado.
    Pust’ v stakane siyayut luchi.
    Jarkiy veter pustyn’, serebro vodopada -
    Vot chem stoit lechit’.
    Ot morey i ot gor
    tak i veet vekami,
    kak posmotrish’, pochuvstvuesh’:
    vechno jivem.

    Ne oblatkami belymi
    put’ moy useyan, a oblakami.
    Ne bol’nichnym ot vas uhoju koridorom,
    a Mlechnym Putem.

    A soliloquy of fresh-sounding ideas which would probably be disastrous.
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    That one is completely stumping Google Translate. With EC’s I was able to get a sense of it (and it looked like “grudima” = “boobs”!).

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    Try the version in Cyrillic script:

    Если я заболею – к врачам обращаться не стану,
    Обращусь я к друзьям, не сочтите что это в бреду,
    Постелите мне степь, занавесьте мне окна туманом,
    В изголовье поставьте упавшую с неба звезду.

    Я шагал напролом, никогда я не слыл недотрогой,
    Если ранят меня в справедливых тяжелых боях,
    Забинтуйте мне голову русской лесною дорогой,
    И укройте меня одеялом в осенних цветах.
    Забинтуйте мне голову русской лесною дорогой,
    И укройте меня одеялом в осенних цветах.

    Порошков или капель, братишки, не надо,
    Пусть в стакане граненом всегда мне сияют лучи.
    Жаркий ветер пустынь, серебро водопада -
    Вот чем стоит лечить, вот чем стоит лечить.
    Жаркий ветер пустынь, серебро водопада -
    Вот чем стоит лечить, вот чем стоит лечить.

    От морей и от гор веет свежестью, веет веками,
    Как увидишь – почувствуешь, вечно, ребята, живем.
    Не облатками путь мой усеян, а облаками,
    Не глухим коридором уйду я, а Млечным путем.

    A soliloquy of fresh-sounding ideas which would probably be disastrous.
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    And, yes, grudima, or in Russian, grudi, means breasts.

    A soliloquy of fresh-sounding ideas which would probably be disastrous.
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    So this season, maybe I need to start off all my game thread posts with груди

    It isn't Dirty Dancing 'cuz it doesn't make you vomit.
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    груди is far too polite. сиськи is probably a bit closer, but maybe less polite than boobs.

    A soliloquy of fresh-sounding ideas which would probably be disastrous.
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    while I’m obviously not an expert in fine subtleties of English, I’d translate grudi as chest, not breast. For me, breast is close to boobs, whereas grudi can (and is in the case of the above poem) belong to a man

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    It could be either chest or breasts to me. In the context of your poem, chest may be the better translation. However, since grudi is plural, I’ve generally thought of it as referring to breasts, although the context counts. And men do, physiologically speaking, have breasts; just without the function that women have. Another way to thing about it is that “grudi” or “breasts” is simply referring to the body part without any sort of sexual connotation, whereas boobs still typically does.

    Or maybe we just go with a hierarchy from most to least polite:

    Chest>grudi>Breasts>boobs>siski>tits

    A soliloquy of fresh-sounding ideas which would probably be disastrous.
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    The terms you have listed are not anatomically identical. Your heart is in your chest, yet it is not in your tits

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    True, but poetically speaking, in English, clutching something to your breast can have the same context as holding something close to your heart.

    Also, look at the translation for груди here.

    A soliloquy of fresh-sounding ideas which would probably be disastrous.
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    However, clutching something close to your tits…

    Sure, they can mean the same thing but they don’t have to. There are situations where you can say that chest is a more polite way of saying tits, there are situation where this is simply inaccurate. Boobs and chest do not refer to the same body part.

    So, while there are situations where grudi can be perfectly translated as breasts or even boobs, there are some, as in this poem, where the term is referring to the chest or breast, whichever you find more appropriate. The fact that the word is in plural doesn’t mean anything, as there is no singular for it that would refer to one breast.

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    We may be arguing about two different things at this point. I do not dispute that in the context of the poem, grudi means chest, and, in this context, that the fact that it is in the plural, is meaningless.

    My point was simply that, in terms of the etymology of the word груди, it is a plural. In fact, the singular грудь is apparently a perfectly acceptable word according to online Russian dictionaries, although I’m not sure I’ve ever heard it used. My assumption has always been that the reason that it’s a plural is because it’s referring to multiple somethings, in this case, breasts, and that over time, it has come to mean “chest,” “breasts,” or simply “something close to one’s heart.” I may be wrong, but without a Russian etymological dictionary, I can’t be sure.

    A soliloquy of fresh-sounding ideas which would probably be disastrous.
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    I only speaks basics of Russian, but there is exactly same constellation exists in Croatian.

    There is indeed a singular of that word in both Croatian and Russian, “grud”. It does not refer to a single breast, but to chest as well, and is used as a more poetic expression. While grudi, the plural, can refer to both breasts and a chest, grud can not. Here is an example from a children’s song.

    “Zeko i potočić” – Branko Mihaljević.

    U jednoj zimskoj noći – In a winter night
    tam gdje je visok brijeg – there, where mountains are high
    smrznuo se potočić – a little creek froze
    i pokrio ga snijeg. – and was covered with snow

    A jedan mali zeko – A little bunny
    taj potok traži svud, – searches everywhere
    gdje je kud je nestao – where is it? where has it disappeared to?
    to njemu tišti grud – is the thought that weighs on his chest.

    You can also use it as meaning something completely abstract. There is an expression “rodna grud”, which could literally be translated as “birth breast”, but which means the country, region or smaller geographical entity where one was born and raised.

    There is an equivalent word, “prsa”. Like grudi, it is plural with no singular, that can be used both to refer to breasts as well as to chest. You use them often in expressions as “busati se u prsa/grudi” (chest-thumping), “bol u prsima/grudima” (chest-pain), as well as all the expressions that refer to women’s breasts “prsata zena” (big-breasted woman), “male grudi” (small breasts) and so on. If you want a polite word that is unequivocal in its use as breasts/tits, you use “dojka” (coming from “dojiti”, which is breast-feeding). This word definitely refers to the part of the anatomy outside of the rib cage. Breast cancer is for example never referred to as “rak grudi”, it is always “rak dojke”.

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    Whereas in Russian, breast cancer is (transliterated) “rak grudnoi zhelezi,” literally “cancer of the breast glands.” (I suppose here breast and mammary are one and the same). There is, as far as I know, no equivalent in Russian to “dojka.”

    A soliloquy of fresh-sounding ideas which would probably be disastrous.
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    I’m sure the poem is great in Croatian, but given how badly Google Translate butchers Croatian to English I feel fortunate to have come as close as I did.

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    OK, I hope DC will forgive me my butchery, but I can do no worse than Google

    Dead Poet’s Poem

    My friend, I am no longer here
    But I am not only dust, only grass
    For that book you hold in your hand
    Is only a part of me who sleeps
    Whoever reads it brings it back to life
    Wake me up, and I will be your reality

    I don’t have any more springs or summers
    I don’t have autumns, nor winters
    I am a poor dead
    Incapable of receiving anything from the world
    All that remains from my bright life
    In an embrace are my rhymes

    Before death I hid (as much as I could)
    In my verses, forging them through darkness
    But if you close your heart for them
    They are but a shadow of lead on the paper
    Open it and let me cross into you
    Like a rich river into a new bed.

    Few more moments I’d like to live
    In your chest. All my beauties
    I’ll give to you. All thoughts. All dreams.
    All that time so merciless took away from me
    All passions, all loves, all hopes,
    All memories – oh, dead life!

    Bring me back to my old days
    I want light! Sun that gilds
    Everything it touches. It’s the warmth I want
    And horizons, my unknown comrade.
    And passions! And stars that are absent
    From my night. Bring them back, my dear.

    As moths around light
    Laments circle around my life
    Help me lift my eyelids,
    Extend my arms with yearning
    I want to be young, I want to love
    And be loved, my unknown comrade!

    My whole life now lays in your hand
    Wake me up! We’ll both live trough
    All my hours captured in my verses
    All dreams saved from a long gone epoch
    Before the gate of life, I am a beggar
    Hear my knocking! My voice from the grave!

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    whoa — thanks!

    The meaning of life is not so much found, as it is Made. -- Opus
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    Percy Harvin to the 49ers? Not sure I want another malcontent WR, but he’d make a good complement to Crabtree.

    http://min.scout.com/2/1265767.html

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    Cardinals’ manager resigns.

    The meaning of life is not so much found, as it is Made. -- Opus
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    Well played.

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    FK that guy. One down, hopefully only a small handful more to go.

    I hope I live long enough to piss on the Catholic Church’s grave in memory of all that were fk’d over by it, and by Rome before that.

    "Once you go Kay there is no other way."- Bed
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    I wouldn’t count on it, though perhaps the cyborg hosting your downloaded brain circuitry will do that for you later on.

    "Kraut will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no kraut."
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    Better start saving some urine for the cyborg.

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    I’m pretty sure it feeds off of pencil shavings and dryer lint.

    "Once you go Kay there is no other way."- Bed
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    We’ll make synthetic urine if we get enough of that kind of stuff…

    "Once you go Kay there is no other way."- Bed
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    When it comes to performing a golden shower on a grave, there really is no substitute for the real thing.

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    So Let the conspiracy theories run amok now. I’m waiting for “something will happen to Obama and Biden will take over both roles” to hit the news.

    Camelot sure fell apart, didn't it? -Steve McCatty
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    I was lucky enough to live in DC during the early 80′s when its punk scene was really percolating. My friend Jerry had a band called “Christ on a Crutch;” their signature song was “Fuck the Pope,” sung to a jaunty almost Sha-Na-Na cadence….”He wouldn’t look so cute, if you made him lick your boot, Fuck the Pope (Bop-bop, bop).”

    "Kraut will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no kraut."
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    Minchin’s subtle poetic pope-slam.

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    Geez, quitting just because you’re getting tired of it all? Just because the role you’re in doesn’t have the same verve and zest that it used to? Just because there’s no tenderness anymore in your fingertips? What ever happened to “til death do us part?”

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    I think it was more like god saying “Dude. You know. You look like Satan. And you kind of remind me of him too. And I swear I tried real hard to make this work anyway. But I’m sorry, I’m gonna have to start seeing other people. Plus, it’s kind of creepy what you’re allowing your buddies do with the those alter boys and uh… there’s that fine ass Jewish woman over there and SHE can cook.”

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    Maybe you just need to give the Pope’s deviled eggs a chance!

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    I think god’s just gonna stick with the brisket.

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    Or Popeyes Chicken.

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    (Pope-yes)

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    :facepalm:

    And yes, I’m slow and didn’t pick up on it. And now I groan.

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    I stole it from some comic I heard on the radio years ago. He did a song called “What Would Jesus Eat?”

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    Relevant Classic

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    Awesome. The other batgirl was awesome (also).

    "Kraut will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no kraut."
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    Just yesterday I was looking at the WBC rosters and said “Oh, Little Nicky Punto is playing for Italy!”

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    I don’t think I have ever referred to that player with anything but “Little Nicky Punto”

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    This, a silly thing I did
    , is relevant to this grill

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    This is fantastic.

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    Yes it is.

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    Well, I can’t seem to post photos. So I’ll just post a link. Wait, what was I talking about?FSU

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    Yay! I love that one!

    "Once you go Kay there is no other way."- Bed
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    Thanks for fixing it. I used to have this on a t-shirt. Even wore it to school one day (I went to SI).

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    Oops, didn’t read that FSU fixed it. Thanks, FSU!

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    Mike Piazza: not so poetic about the end of his career with the A’s.

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    So he won’t go into the Hall wearing an A’s cap, then.

    I do remember questioning the A’s insistence that he only come back off the DL if he was healthy enough to play catcher. Piazza doesn’t appear to have much love for Billy.

    "Kraut will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no kraut."
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    Portraying himself as a hard-working player who didn’t use steroids (but did use androstenedione, ephedra and greenies, which weren’t on baseball’s banned list at the time), Piazza wrote a book that seems to be a campaign for the Hall of Fame.

    Um… greenies were banned.

    And I have to say: mikev is one of my favorite people on here -slusser
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    Not when he played iirc.

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    Amphetamines are a controlled substance, and the use of controlled substances had been prohibited since the 1991 Memo that Commissioner Fay Vincent sent out to all teams.

    And I have to say: mikev is one of my favorite people on here -slusser
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    Baseball didn’t start including testing for greenies until 2006. So, they may have been prohibited, but were never tested for.

    A soliloquy of fresh-sounding ideas which would probably be disastrous.
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    Admitting to having used them kind of supersedes a need for testing.

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    Yet another tale of excellent man management by Geren.

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    In case anyone missed it back then and anyone cares, here’s the interview I did with Piazza

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    Awesome

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    Nobody cares about your Piazza interview.

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    You’re just like Bed, you VORP nerd

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    I wish I were more like Bed, frankly. Except for the weird Coldplay love.

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    My poetry is usually slam poetry (i.e. read aloud), so this is a departure and just an experiment with a different voice, content, and formatting for me, but I thought I’d share anyway:

    Last night,
    we sat in your car
    while you had a panic attack.
    I'm sorry I can't make you feel better.
       Your anxiety makes me so
    				anxious.
    
    Last week,
    we watched the city light up from my rooftop
    and you confessed
    to nuzzling the abyss sometimes.
    I hope the comfort I mumbled into my beer         reached          you     .
    
    Last month,
    I watched you laugh
    totheedgeofinsansity
    white knuckling your hold on structure.
    Just tell me who I need to beat up.
    I don't believe violence solves most problems
    but I'll be damned
    if I let that stop me.
    Just point me in the direction of your
    a
    c
    h
    e
    
    Last fall,
    I saw you bleed.
    The look in your eyes still scares me.
    I hope you don't think less of me
    for that.
    I wrapped you in a white towel
    and tried to
               staunch
      the
          flow
    of your desperation.
    Some stains don't really wash out,
    do they
    ?
    
    Sometimes I want to shake you
    until you accept
    that things do get better
    but I really do try to remember
    that maybe
    you're not ready to stop
    being sad yet.
    
    Just know that I'll wait for you.
    Sitting in the front seat on the side of the road
    holding your hand
    as you ride the waves in your head.
    The car's headlights fighting the haze as I whisper
    	I love you
    		I love you
    			I love you
    into the blink of the emergency flashers.
    Why can't you see
    how worth it you are?
    
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    clap-clap-clap

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    Well done.

    A soliloquy of fresh-sounding ideas which would probably be disastrous.
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    This is truly brilliant.

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    bravo

    If this is His will, He's a son of a bitch.
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    Lichen it!

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    It isn't Dirty Dancing 'cuz it doesn't make you vomit.
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    That’s really good.

    "Kraut will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no kraut."
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    Fantastic stuff.

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    See, I was right, wasn’t I?
    Great stuff, man.

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    Thanks for the kind words. Happy to share if people enjoy it!

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    thats pretty swell

    In play, run(s)! Talk dirty to me gamecast, talk dirty. - Nevermoor
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    …..

    speechless. “That’s absolutely fantastic” is about as close as I can get.

    There's a wild thing in the woolshed and it's keeping me awake at night.
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    Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful!!!!

    Never suck on a Blow Pop with the microphone open.
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    nevermoor has that publisher agent for a friend, right? just sayin’

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    I do indeed.

    "There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want"
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    Well shucks. Even if I did have publish-worthy stuff, nobody wants to publish poetry these days, right?

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    No idea.

    That’s her job, not mine.

    "There's never enough time to do all the nothing you want"

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