Not that it matters

Not that it matters

Edna St. Vincent Millay


Not that it matters, not that my heart's cry
Is potent to deflect our common doom,
Or bind to truce in this ambiguous room
The planets of the atom as they ply;
But only to record that you and I,
Like thieves that scratch the jewels from a tomb,
Have gathered delicate love in hardy bloom
Close under Chaos, --- I rise to testify.
This is my testament: that we are taken;
Our colors are as clouds before the wind;
Yet for a moment stood the foe forsaken,
Eyeing Love's favor to our helmet pinned;
Death is our master, --- but his seat is shaken;
He rides victorious, --- but his ranks are thinned.

When You Are Old

W.B. Yeats


When you are old and gray and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

And bending down beside the glowing bars
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And his his face amid a crowd of stars.

Shelter from the Storm

Bob Dylan


'Twas in another lifetime, one of toil and blood
When blackness was a virtue and the road was full of mud
I came in from the wilderness, a creature void of form.
"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm."

And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured
I'll always do my best for her, on that I give my word
In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm.
"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Not a word was spoke between us, there was little risk involved
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved.
Try imagining a place where it's always safe and warm.
"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm."

I was burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail,
Poisoned in the bushes an' blown out on the trail,
Hunted like a crocodile, ravaged in the corn.
"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Suddenly I turned around and she was standin' there
With silver bracelets on her wrists and flowers in her hair.
She walked up to me so gracefully and took my crown of thorns.
"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Now there's a wall between us, somethin' there's been lost
I took too much for granted, got my signals crossed.
Just to think that it all began on a long-forgotten morn.
"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Well, the deputy walks on hard nails and the preacher rides a mount
But nothing really matters much, it's doom alone that counts
And the one-eyed undertaker, he blows a futile horn.
"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm."

I've heard newborn babies wailin' like a mournin' dove
And old men with broken teeth stranded without love.
Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?
"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm."

In a little hilltop village, they gambled for my clothes
I bargained for salvation an' they gave me a lethal dose.
I offered up my innocence and got repaid with scorn.
"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Well, I'm livin' in a foreign country but I'm bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razor's edge, someday I'll make it mine.
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born.
"Come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Margaret Cho BLOG

Margaret Cho BLOG: "

If you are faint of heart, don't read this. Don't. Close this window. Now. Do it. You cannot handle it. After you close the window, get off the internet. It is too much for the faint of heart. There could be a pop up, a virus, a worm, some sixty- three year old man pretending to be a horny, pre-teen girl, at any time - so get off. Turn off your computer. Go over to the couch and sit down and turn on the TV. Try as hard as you can to get through the cable channels until you get to the comforting PAX logo on the lower right hand side of the screen. Take a deep breath and enjoy Roma Downey's unintimidating, hyperfeminine, verdant-but-not-too-bright-like-say-a-kelly-green-scoop-neck-long-stretch-velvet-dress beauty."

Brad's Marx Brothers Page

Lydia the Tattooed Lady
Lydia oh Lydia, that encyclopedia,
Oh Lydia the Queen of Tattoo.
On her back is the Battle of Waterloo.
Beside it the wreck of the Hespherous, too.
And proudly above waves the Red, White, and Blue,
You can learn a lot from Lydia.

La la la, la la la, la la la, la la la

When her robe is unfurled, she will show you the world,
If you step up and tell her where.
For a dime you can see Kankakee or Paris,
Or Washington crossing the Delaware.

Daring Fireball

Daring Fireball: " The Exchange/Outlook platform is quite simply a menace not only to the organizations that use it, but to the world at large. People who do not use Outlook, who have never used it, are forced to deal with tens of thousands of Sobig-infested messages flowing into their mail spools.

That's scandalous. Microsoft bears responsibility, but so too does every single organization whose computers were afflicted. To respond to this by sticking with Exchange/Outlook is outrageous. I mean, what are the odds that this will happen again? I'd say they approach 100 percent. Truly, a matter of when, not if. "