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Ambrosia

Poetry begins in delight and ends in wisdom - Robert Frost. Silence invaded the suburbs. And all is dross that is not Helena. When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Did He smile, His work to see? Tho much is taken, much abides. Friday, August 11, 2006. This poem is rather long, but one cannot but be gripped by its transcendental quality.Read it through. It is worth it! We are the hollow men. We are the stuffed men. Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when. As wind in dry grass.

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Ambrosia | echoesofheaven.blogspot.com Reviews
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Poetry begins in delight and ends in wisdom - Robert Frost. Silence invaded the suburbs. And all is dross that is not Helena. When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Did He smile, His work to see? Tho much is taken, much abides. Friday, August 11, 2006. This poem is rather long, but one cannot but be gripped by its transcendental quality.Read it through. It is worth it! We are the hollow men. We are the stuffed men. Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when. As wind in dry grass.
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1 ambrosia
2 contributors
3 arjun sukumaran
4 namrata
5 the hollow men
6 sing in silence
7 leaning together
8 we whisper together
9 the stuffed men
10 and voices are
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ambrosia,contributors,arjun sukumaran,namrata,the hollow men,sing in silence,leaning together,we whisper together,the stuffed men,and voices are,such deliberate disguises,in a field,no nearer,waking alone,trembling with tenderness,we grope together
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Ambrosia | echoesofheaven.blogspot.com Reviews

https://echoesofheaven.blogspot.com

Poetry begins in delight and ends in wisdom - Robert Frost. Silence invaded the suburbs. And all is dross that is not Helena. When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Did He smile, His work to see? Tho much is taken, much abides. Friday, August 11, 2006. This poem is rather long, but one cannot but be gripped by its transcendental quality.Read it through. It is worth it! We are the hollow men. We are the stuffed men. Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when. As wind in dry grass.

INTERNAL PAGES

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1

Ambrosia: Silence invaded the suburbs...

http://echoesofheaven.blogspot.com/2006/04/silence-invaded-suburbs.html

Poetry begins in delight and ends in wisdom - Robert Frost. And all is dross that is not Helena. When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Did He smile, His work to see? Tho much is taken, much abides. Monday, April 17, 2006. Silence invaded the suburbs. Trifle long-winded, but bear with me.it's good. In Memory of W.B. Yeats' by W.H. Auden. He disappeared in the dead of winter:. The brooks were frozen, the airports almost deserted,. The snow disfigured the public statues;. Far from his illness.

2

Ambrosia: When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee...

http://echoesofheaven.blogspot.com/2006/02/when-blue-wave-rolls-nightly-on-deep.html

Poetry begins in delight and ends in wisdom - Robert Frost. Did He smile, His work to see? Tho much is taken, much abides. Sunday, February 12, 2006. When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. From the moment I started this site, I knew that this was going to be up here; Lord Byron's masterpiece has always been one of my favourite poems. The hardest question, therefore, was not 'Should this be up here? The Destruction of Sennacherib. The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,. And cold as t...

3

Ambrosia: January 2006

http://echoesofheaven.blogspot.com/2006_01_01_archive.html

Poetry begins in delight and ends in wisdom - Robert Frost. Silence invaded the suburbs. And all is dross that is not Helena. When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Did He smile, His work to see? Tho much is taken, much abides. Tuesday, January 24, 2006. Tho' much is taken, much abides. It little profits that an idle king,. By this still hearth, among these barren crags,. Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole. Unequal laws unto a savage race,. I cannot rest from travel: I will drink.

4

Ambrosia: Did He smile, His work to see?

http://echoesofheaven.blogspot.com/2006/02/did-he-smile-his-work-to-see.html

Poetry begins in delight and ends in wisdom - Robert Frost. Tho much is taken, much abides. Thursday, February 02, 2006. Did He smile, His work to see? The first poem I ever read, as a bloody nosy kid looking into senior class textbooks. Even now, I can remember thinking that 'eye' and 'symmetry' didn't quite rhyme.but then concluded that ol' William Blake just might know a wee bit more than me. End result? Tiger, tiger, burning bright. In the forests of the night,. What immortal hand or eye. Then there'...

5

Ambrosia: Sing In Silence

http://echoesofheaven.blogspot.com/2006/05/sing-in-silence.html

Poetry begins in delight and ends in wisdom - Robert Frost. Silence invaded the suburbs. And all is dross that is not Helena. When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Did He smile, His work to see? Tho much is taken, much abides. Monday, May 08, 2006. Pablo Neruda, poet-reveolutionary-a human being. If I die, survive me with such sheer force. That you waken the furies of the pallid and the cold,. From south to south lift your indelible eyes,. From sun to sun dream through your singing mouth.

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Wanderer: Burn

http://gitler.blogspot.com/2010/10/burn.html

Come travel to distant lands- of lights fantastic and whirlygig rainbows. Sunday, October 17, 2010. Burn through the rain. Swathe me in wool. Reminded of a Tamil film song of the. mid-80s think. Not getting the exact first line! But wonderful paradox of images :-). हर धुंए के बीच. उठती है लपटें,. चोरी छिपे. जलते हैं लिबाज. कर डालते हैं. कुछ ही पल में. अपने सवालो के सामने. हमें अधनंगा. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. Follow this blog with bloglovin.

myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com

My Verbal Constipation

http://myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com/2006/04/and-then-there-was-me.html

Monday, April 17, 2006. And then there was me. Yes, i gitanjali raman have finally joined the band wagon. i tried to resist, made excuses, even mocked bloggers. but god dammit im weak. the thought of ranting about things no one is likely to listen to otherwise is just too tempting! Time for confessions now. i have nothing witty to say, no funny anecdotes, nothing novel or creative to write about. in other words, my mind is a creative void. i suffer from what i have termed verbal constipation. Else we're ...

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My Verbal Constipation

http://myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com/2006_12_01_archive.html

Tuesday, December 05, 2006. Beer my Creative Laxative. Im not going to go into a long drawn discourse explainign my absence from the blogging world. ive just been lazy and pre occupied with trying to get a life. But then i went to bikes a couple of nights ago. and voila. over a beer. suddenly the creativity started to flow. and i felt my fingers itching towards my keyboard. and thus came about the birth of my next creation. ODE TO THE WAITER AT BIKE AND BARREL. O waiter boy im drunk and i am calling,.

myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com

My Verbal Constipation

http://myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com/2006/12/beer-my-creative-laxative.html

Tuesday, December 05, 2006. Beer my Creative Laxative. Im not going to go into a long drawn discourse explainign my absence from the blogging world. ive just been lazy and pre occupied with trying to get a life. But then i went to bikes a couple of nights ago. and voila. over a beer. suddenly the creativity started to flow. and i felt my fingers itching towards my keyboard. and thus came about the birth of my next creation. ODE TO THE WAITER AT BIKE AND BARREL. O waiter boy im drunk and i am calling,.

myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com

My Verbal Constipation

http://myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com/2006_04_01_archive.html

Thursday, April 27, 2006. Birth of the bohemian beetroot- vol. one of the beetroot sagas. It was into this world that that young enigmatic youth. the Brave Bright Burgundy Bohemian Beetroot sprouted his first leaf. Dismayed and distraught by the damage done by the despicable diva, that dastardly geriatric, he took a stand. A stand to uphold the rich, prosperous, colorful tasty, tongue tingling, tradition and history of his horticultural conglomerate. Posted by tanjanali : 10:52 PM :. Post / Read Comments.

myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com

My Verbal Constipation

http://myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com/2006/04/ode-to-dead-star-fish.html

Monday, April 17, 2006. Ode to a dead star fish. ODE TO A DEAD STARFISH: gitanjali raman. O ye with those long protrusions, they were once young and spry,. With their many many little eyes,. But now i see them wilted and dry,. You moved around sticking your fingers downs holes,. Never once losing site of yout goals,. The sea animones at the sight of you came,. A more delicious bite the fish could not claim. The sight of you swimming the deep seas filled me with joy,. Dead you lie bottled up in a jar,.

myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com

My Verbal Constipation

http://myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com/2006/04/birth-of-bohemian-beetroot-vol-one-of.html

Thursday, April 27, 2006. Birth of the bohemian beetroot- vol. one of the beetroot sagas. It was into this world that that young enigmatic youth. the Brave Bright Burgundy Bohemian Beetroot sprouted his first leaf. Dismayed and distraught by the damage done by the despicable diva, that dastardly geriatric, he took a stand. A stand to uphold the rich, prosperous, colorful tasty, tongue tingling, tradition and history of his horticultural conglomerate. Posted by tanjanali : 10:52 PM :. Post / Read Comments.

myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com

My Verbal Constipation

http://myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com/2009_03_01_archive.html

Friday, March 20, 2009. The Revival- Important life lessons I have learnt in my time in England. Yet another attempt on my part to revive my blogging habits, which never was a very active habit of mine to start with! I know. im bad! How many things have changed. How much i have changed (the essence is still the same) and. how i find that i cant really write anymore sadly enough! Maybe its because im tooo busy to let my mind wander, maybe its because im out of practice(? 1) Chips means fries. 9) That brea...

myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com

My Verbal Constipation

http://myverbalconstipation.blogspot.com/2006/04/in-response-to-karthik-varmas-blog.html

Friday, April 21, 2006. In response to karthik varma's blog. Yes yes i kow i can just post a comment but blogger.com will not let me do so on varma ji's page. piff. an error which is being processed and they will rectify it shortly. But i must say. karthik, it could well have been a 40 year old man who might've been quite happy to have fallen on your crotch. The bathroom scares me! Not that it is unclean, for indeed it is spic and span. but i will not use the bathroom! Posted by tanjanali : 3:17 AM :.

gitler.blogspot.com gitler.blogspot.com

Wanderer: Sisters and their wives...

http://gitler.blogspot.com/2010/12/sisters-and-their-wives.html

Come travel to distant lands- of lights fantastic and whirlygig rainbows. Wednesday, December 22, 2010. Sisters and their wives. She has a wife, who calls her Wifelet. (now I know where she gets the tublet idea from! Together they are the most dissonantly perfect people I have ever met, together or separately. And they make life worth living. I love them dearly even when they threaten to dump their children on me so that I can raise them with some 'discipline' *Muttersgrumblessnarls: "Discipline ...Aweso...

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Ambrosia

Poetry begins in delight and ends in wisdom - Robert Frost. Silence invaded the suburbs. And all is dross that is not Helena. When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. Did He smile, His work to see? Tho much is taken, much abides. Friday, August 11, 2006. This poem is rather long, but one cannot but be gripped by its transcendental quality.Read it through. It is worth it! We are the hollow men. We are the stuffed men. Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when. As wind in dry grass.

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