Serving the Quantitative Finance Community

 
User avatar
Ultraviolet
Posts: 1
Joined: August 15th, 2012, 9:46 am

Selected Poems - International

July 4th, 2013, 11:27 am

I am relaxed!
 
User avatar
exneratunrisk
Posts: 0
Joined: April 20th, 2004, 12:25 pm

Selected Poems - International

July 4th, 2013, 11:31 am

Tohuwabohu - Ernst Jandl
 
User avatar
trackstar
Topic Author
Posts: 3420
Joined: January 1st, 1970, 12:00 am

Selected Poems - International

July 4th, 2013, 11:37 am

I don't have much time this morning, but just a bit of nostalgia; this was my first present for Errrb after encountering him on certain threads for the first time.Toxic Wasteand for his 4th of July party which is a non sequitur in the UK, of course, a nice slice of Uranium Yellow Cake. Bon appetit, E!
Last edited by trackstar on July 3rd, 2013, 10:00 pm, edited 1 time in total.
 
User avatar
exneratunrisk
Posts: 0
Joined: April 20th, 2004, 12:25 pm

Selected Poems - International

July 4th, 2013, 11:52 am

Zang Tumb Tumb - F Tommaso Marinetti
 
User avatar
Ultraviolet
Posts: 1
Joined: August 15th, 2012, 9:46 am

Selected Poems - International

July 4th, 2013, 12:02 pm

Do they have karaoke versions somewhere? :-)
 
User avatar
ExSan
Posts: 493
Joined: April 12th, 2003, 10:40 am

Selected Poems - International

July 4th, 2013, 4:21 pm

QuoteOriginally posted by: exneratunriskZang Tumb Tumb - F Tommaso MarinettiQuoteOriginally posted by: UltravioletDo they have karaoke versions somewhere? :-) LOL !
°°° About ExSan bit.ly/3U5bIdq °°°
 
User avatar
tags
Posts: 3162
Joined: February 21st, 2010, 12:58 pm

Selected Poems - International

August 25th, 2014, 3:22 pm

A good friend of mine wrote this interesting piece.Ode to the morning poo
 
User avatar
EBal
Posts: 6
Joined: May 20th, 2005, 1:30 pm

Selected Poems - International

September 12th, 2014, 11:05 am

IThe eastern tip of the Empire dives into night;cicadas fall silent over some empty lawn;on classic pediments inscriptions dim from the sightas a final cross darkens and then is gonelike the nearly empty bottle on the table.From the empty street's patrol car a refrainof Ray Charles's keyboard tinkles away like rain.Crawling to a vacant beach from the vast wetof ocean, a crab digs into sand laced with sea latherand sleeps. A giant clock on a brick towerrattles its scissors. The face is drenched with sweat.The streetlamps glisten in the stifling weather,formally spaced,like white shirt buttons open to the waist.It's stifling. The eye's guided by a blinking stoplightin its journey to the whiskey across the roomon the nightstand. The heart stops dead a moment, but its dull boomgoes on, and the blood, on pilgrimage gone forth,comes back to a crossroad. The body, like an upright,rolled up road map, lifts an eyebrow in the North.It's strange to think of surviving, but that's what happened.Dust settles on furnishing, and a car bends lengtharound corners in spite of Euclid. And the deepeneddarkness makes up for the absence of people, of voices,and so forth, and alters them, by its cunning and strength,not to deserters, to ones who have taken flight,but rather to those now disappeared from sight.It's stifling. And the thick leaves' rasping soundis enough all by itself to make you sweat.What seems to be a small dot in the darkcould only be one thing - a star. On the deserted groundof a basketball court a vagrant bird has setits fragile egg in the steel hoop's raveled net.There's a smell of mint now, and of mignonette.II.......XII...Sleep. The land beyond you is not round.It is merely long, with various dip and mound,its ups and downs. Far longer is the sea.At times, like a wrinkled forehead, it displaysa rolling wave. And longer still than theseis the strand of matching beads of countless days;and nights; and beyond these, the blindfold mist,angles in paradise, demons down in hell.And longer a hundredfold than all of this are the thoughts of life, the solitary thoughtof death. And ten times that, longer than all,the queer, vertiginous thought of Nothingness.But the eye can't see that far. In fact, it mustclose down its lid to catch a glimpse of things.Only this way - in sleep - can the eye adjustto proper vision. Whatever may be in store,for good or ill, in the dreams that such sleep bringsdepends on the sleeper. A cod stands at the door.Translated by Anthony Hecht.Russian.
 
User avatar
trackstar
Topic Author
Posts: 3420
Joined: January 1st, 1970, 12:00 am

Selected Poems - International

September 12th, 2014, 12:00 pm

Joseph BrodskyThank you for this - a great way to start the day.
Last edited by trackstar on September 11th, 2014, 10:00 pm, edited 1 time in total.
 
User avatar
fulmerspot
Posts: 80
Joined: July 8th, 2009, 12:44 pm

Selected Poems - International

September 12th, 2014, 2:28 pm

QuoteOriginally posted by: trackstarJoseph BrodskyThank you for this - a great way to start the day.My eldest cousin is reading this next month at my wedding:Never marry but for love; but see that thou lovest what is lovely.He that minds a body and not a soulhas not the better part of that relationship,and will consequently lack the noblest comfort of a married life.Between a man and his wife nothing ought to rule but love.As love ought to bring them together,so it is the best way to keep them well together.A husband and wife that love one anothershow their children that they should do so too.Others visibly lose their authority in their familiesby their contempt of one another,and teach their children to be unnatural by their own examples.Let not enjoyment lessen, but augment, affection;it being the basest of passions to like when we have not,what we slight when we possess.Here it is we ought to search out our pleasure,where the field is large and full of variety, and of an enduring nature;sickness, poverty or disgrace being not able to shake itbecause it is not under the moving influences of worldly contingencies.Nothing can be more entire and without reserve;nothing more zealous, affectionate and sincere;nothing more contented than such a couple,nor greater temporal felicity than to be one of them.William Penn (1644-1718) Königspudel
 
User avatar
rmax
Posts: 374
Joined: December 8th, 2005, 9:31 am

Selected Poems - International

September 12th, 2014, 2:50 pm

The FleaBy John Donne 1572?1631 John Donne Mark but this flea, and mark in this, How little that which thou deniest me is; It sucked me first, and now sucks thee, And in this flea our two bloods mingled be; Thou know?st that this cannot be said A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead, Yet this enjoys before it woo, And pampered swells with one blood made of two, And this, alas, is more than we would do. Oh stay, three lives in one flea spare, Where we almost, nay more than married are. This flea is you and I, and this Our mariage bed, and marriage temple is; Though parents grudge, and you, w'are met, And cloistered in these living walls of jet. Though use make you apt to kill me, Let not to that, self-murder added be, And sacrilege, three sins in killing three. Cruel and sudden, hast thou since Purpled thy nail, in blood of innocence? Wherein could this flea guilty be, Except in that drop which it sucked from thee? Yet thou triumph?st, and say'st that thou Find?st not thy self, nor me the weaker now; ?Tis true; then learn how false, fears be: Just so much honor, when thou yield?st to me, Will waste, as this flea?s death took life from thee.
 
User avatar
katastrofa
Posts: 7440
Joined: August 16th, 2007, 5:36 am
Location: Alpha Centauri

Selected Poems - International

September 13th, 2014, 9:57 am

QuoteOriginally posted by: EBalIThe eastern tip of the Empire dives into night;cicadas fall silent over some empty lawn;on classic pediments inscriptions dim from the sightas a final cross darkens and then is gonelike the nearly empty bottle on the table.From the empty street's patrol car a refrainof Ray Charles's keyboard tinkles away like rain.Crawling to a vacant beach from the vast wetof ocean, a crab digs into sand laced with sea latherand sleeps. A giant clock on a brick towerrattles its scissors. The face is drenched with sweat.The streetlamps glisten in the stifling weather,formally spaced,like white shirt buttons open to the waist.It's stifling. The eye's guided by a blinking stoplightin its journey to the whiskey across the roomon the nightstand. The heart stops dead a moment, but its dull boomgoes on, and the blood, on pilgrimage gone forth,comes back to a crossroad. The body, like an upright,rolled up road map, lifts an eyebrow in the North.It's strange to think of surviving, but that's what happened.Dust settles on furnishing, and a car bends lengtharound corners in spite of Euclid. And the deepeneddarkness makes up for the absence of people, of voices,and so forth, and alters them, by its cunning and strength,not to deserters, to ones who have taken flight,but rather to those now disappeared from sight.It's stifling. And the thick leaves' rasping soundis enough all by itself to make you sweat.What seems to be a small dot in the darkcould only be one thing - a star. On the deserted groundof a basketball court a vagrant bird has setits fragile egg in the steel hoop's raveled net.There's a smell of mint now, and of mignonette.II.......XII...Sleep. The land beyond you is not round.It is merely long, with various dip and mound,its ups and downs. Far longer is the sea.At times, like a wrinkled forehead, it displaysa rolling wave. And longer still than theseis the strand of matching beads of countless days;and nights; and beyond these, the blindfold mist,angles in paradise, demons down in hell.And longer a hundredfold than all of this are the thoughts of life, the solitary thoughtof death. And ten times that, longer than all,the queer, vertiginous thought of Nothingness.But the eye can't see that far. In fact, it mustclose down its lid to catch a glimpse of things.Only this way - in sleep - can the eye adjustto proper vision. Whatever may be in store,for good or ill, in the dreams that such sleep bringsdepends on the sleeper. A cod stands at the door.Translated by Anthony Hecht.Russian.It must be particularly ironic to say about this poem, but it sounds crap in English.a
 
User avatar
trackstar
Topic Author
Posts: 3420
Joined: January 1st, 1970, 12:00 am

Selected Poems - International

September 13th, 2014, 12:11 pm

On the Sorrows of Cyrillic TranslationThe glass is never half-full for some --A poem in translation is a new poemHere born in RussianRaised in English by a German-American Jewwith a gift for words and a sense of history.Since some read Russian too, quietly, with dictionaries,The poem bears fruit in several forms.Go now, half-empty glass, and become full.- trackstar
Last edited by trackstar on September 12th, 2014, 10:00 pm, edited 1 time in total.
 
User avatar
billypilgrim
Posts: 0
Joined: September 3rd, 2014, 1:08 pm

Selected Poems - International

September 13th, 2014, 2:42 pm

Mission Statement by Weird Al YankovicWe must all efficientlyOperationalize our strategiesInvest in world-class technologyAnd leverage our core competenciesIn order to holistically administrateExceptional synergyWe?ll set a brand trajectoryUsing management?s philosophyAdvance our market share vis-à-visOur proven methodologyWith strong commitment to qualityEffectively enhancing corporate synergyTransitioning our companyBy awareness of functionalityPromoting viabilityProviding our supply chain with diversityWe will distil our identityThrough client-centric solutionsAnd synergyAt the end of the dayWe must monetize our assetsThe fundamentals of changeCan you visualize a value-added experience?That will grow the business infrastructure andMonetize our assetsMonetize our assetsMonetize our assetsBringing to the tableOur capitalized reputationProactively overseeingDay-to-day operationsServices and deliverablesWith cross-platform innovationNetworking, soon will bring, seamless integrationRobust and scalable, bleeding-edge and next-generationBest of breedWe?ll succeedIn achieving globalizationAnd gaining traction with our resources in the marketplaceIt?s mission-critical to stay incentivizedflexible solutions for our customer baseIf you can?t think outside the boxYou?ll be downsizedIt?s a paradigm shift! (Hey, Hey! Look out!)Well, it?s a paradigm shift, now!(Here we go! Here we go! Here we come! Here we come! Ha!)
 
User avatar
Cuchulainn
Posts: 20254
Joined: July 16th, 2004, 7:38 am
Location: 20, 000

Selected Poems - International

September 13th, 2014, 3:26 pm

QuoteOriginally posted by: billypilgrimMission Statement by Weird Al YankovicWe must all efficientlyOperationalize our strategiesInvest in world-class technologyAnd leverage our core competenciesIn order to holistically administrateExceptional synergyWe?ll set a brand trajectoryUsing management?s philosophyAdvance our market share vis-à-visOur proven methodologyWith strong commitment to qualityEffectively enhancing corporate synergyTransitioning our companyBy awareness of functionalityPromoting viabilityProviding our supply chain with diversityWe will distil our identityThrough client-centric solutionsAnd synergyAt the end of the dayWe must monetize our assetsThe fundamentals of changeCan you visualize a value-added experience?That will grow the business infrastructure andMonetize our assetsMonetize our assetsMonetize our assetsBringing to the tableOur capitalized reputationProactively overseeingDay-to-day operationsServices and deliverablesWith cross-platform innovationNetworking, soon will bring, seamless integrationRobust and scalable, bleeding-edge and next-generationBest of breedWe?ll succeedIn achieving globalizationAnd gaining traction with our resources in the marketplaceIt?s mission-critical to stay incentivizedflexible solutions for our customer baseIf you can?t think outside the boxYou?ll be downsizedIt?s a paradigm shift! (Hey, Hey! Look out!)Well, it?s a paradigm shift, now!(Here we go! Here we go! Here we come! Here we come! Ha!)Win-win.