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In the Name of God بسم الله

gteverette

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About gteverette

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  1. Well, if Baradar-Jackson said it did not happen, I guess that is proof enough for anyone. So maybe he can give a judgment on this Iranian film: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aof17t2prUQ Al-Mufeed, I don't hate Iran, but I do hate those who would deliberately target women and children in war and think those politicians who would send children to fight are as guilty as other war criminals. I am obsessed with Neda because she was a victim and would like nothing better then the Iranian Government to find and punish her murderer, whoever he is. Until he is found, or her parents can publicly mourn her, I will write a poem in her memory every year. But back on topic. I believe this memorial to the Iran's defenders is better then most. My favorite is the wish of the mother, releasing the dove of peace. btw, who is hiding? Ban me if you must. gteverette AKA Spriglief Note: My Dixie sent it's child soldiers from VMI and The Citadel into battle and God rejected their sacrifice.
  2. I hope she can do better then our recent female diplomats, but then, Hillary Clinton does not set a very high bar to top.
  3. What? No monument for the 15 year old (child) soldiers sent out to clear mine fields with their feet?
  4. They are making Ender's Game into a movie which is coming out very soon. If it is half as good as the book, it is a must see movie. As always, I hope they are faithful to the book. But to really enjoy this movie, you should read the book first.
  5. The Russ have always had their Czar. Putin gave his people what they wanted. An illusion of security and a sense of power and grandeur. Personally, I hope he can keeps it up. The Russ, for the first time in their history are getting a taste of the good life for the individual. One day, the Russ will be able to let go of their security blanket if Genghis Khan does not make another appearance.
  6. The suicide rate began climbing exactly when the insurance companies started paying out for soldier who committed suicide. So far, this is the only correlation that has been made with the climb in suicides. You can't get that type of plan in any other line of work. It is a big inducement for men who think they are worth more to their families dead then alive.
  7. Ninshubu said, " Where have you been? The bath is ready, night lamps lit, The night watch is set, the maids wait, You look so pale, is something wrong?" I drink dark wine and go to bed. Over the great sheep folds of Uruk, Over the great clay pits of Uruk, Over the market and craft streets, Over the gardens, the workers homes, Uruk's high temples reach for our Gods. Ninshubu is sent for my scribe To know what I say to any God, To sit nearby should I travel, To catch any utterance that falls, From sleep, this poor vessel of hers. The lolling of the sheep now quiet, A mother sings to her newborn, An old maid gets up the first time, The second watch replaces the first, Mars moves near the horn of the moon. A breeze picks up off the Tigress , The rich heady smell of marsh reeds, The Watch Commander hums a tune, His manly form masking Venus Ninshubu said his name is Tummuz. Through the ripening wheat and barley Along the great twin river's banks, Around rival great city states, Gilgamesh and Enkidu march. In mine dreams I travel with them. At the end of the guards third watch, At first light on the east horizon, When the roosters announce the day, Mine scribe come to me to report, I moved in sleep but did not speak. At sun up the astrologers Report and record their night readings, Venus ascends high in the sky, Mars is near the horns of the moon, Potent portents of love and war. While grinding mine days wheat and oats Before the temple offerings, I ask Ninshubar about Tummuz, The second night watch commander, The man who hums Shamhat to sleep. Ninshubar said, “he’s from the marshes Where they fish and make our baskets. What is it to Ishtar’s Priestess? Well, he does carry a manly form, With a merry tune on his reed pipe.” His sister is young Geshtinana, His mother is old Belili, She makes sure he is never late To attending his guard duties, Both lobbied for his station here.” I said, let both women attend me. Let Tummuz command mine night watch. I’ve seen him in Ishtar’s heavens light, Broad shoulders, strong arms, he carries me away His melodies sang Shamhat to sleep. That night, Geshtinana made my bath Belili lit the night’s scented lamps Ninshubar anointed my body Set outside mine seeing, hearing. Tummuz post mine temple guards. On the beyond the evening star, On the beyond the roaming star, Never horizon to horizon, Venus visits all the other stars, Ishtar’s light, mine heaven’s star. Over the great sheep folds of Uruk, Over the great clay pits of Uruk, Over the market and craft streets, Over the gardens, the worker’s homes, Uruk’s high temples reach for our Gods. The lolling of the sheep now quiet The second watch replaces the first Mars moves near the horn of the moon Venus ascends ever higher Tummuz brings his reed willow pipe Belili uses her night pot Geshtinana leaves with her Ninshubar long dismissed Tummuz has brought his reed pipe He plays the words I say to you. What I tell you weave to music Let this song pass between lovers Let it flow from mother to child Let it pass from old to the young This song is the soul of Ishtar. Tummuz the fisherman sang of Tummuz the Shepherd song of The Courtship of Goddess Ishtar His a courtship of her vessel A song for her woman Shamhat. Shamhat spoke, “without your mother Without your sister Geshtinana You’d be driven into the marsh Who gave you Isthar’s lover’s name, You think you are as good as he?” Tummuz spoke: “do not quarrel lady. My mother Belili honors her With the name of Ishtar’s lover She has taught me Tummuz’s love songs I sing to honor her, great lady.” From the starting of the quarrel Came the passion of two lovers Hot words melting their heated hearts In the passion of marsh reed song Man and woman’s voices bending. Shamhat answered, “Ishtar’s courtship, In the song she choose the shepherd Are you going to sing verse praise, Of fisherman over shepherds, Are fisherman better than shepherds?” “Why do you sing of the shepherd? Why do you speak of THAT Tummuz? If he had lamb, I have fresh fish If he had wool, I have white pearls I do not sow, I do not herd, I reap. Let me cast my net for you Lady Dip my oar in your wet ocean With measured strokes driving Ishtar’s vessel on swelling oceans Fresh, salty, rocking, wild passions. Open the house, my lady, open up I have reed baskets filled with grain I have reed baskets filled with wool The surplus of farmer and shepherd Traded for my sister’s baskets. Open the temple, lady, open up I have reed baskets of fresh fish I have reed baskets of fresh shrimp I have reed baskets of fresh clams My surplus is for you my lady. Open your temple great lady, I cast nets, I throw the harpoon, But I am not like the hunter My bounty does not hid from me My plenty does not run from me. Open your temple great lady I dig clams, I harvest oysters But I am not like the farmer My bounty does not need plowing My plenty does not need sowing. Open your temple great Lady I fish for the white and silver fish But I am not like the shepherd My bounty does not need herding My plenty does not need watching. Open your house great lady, open I have reed baskets of oysters I have reed baskets of white shrimp I have reed baskets of white clams I do not sow, I do not herd, I fish. Your maid Ninshubar will tell you: I will treat you like your father I will treat you like your mother I will be as close as your brother I will be as close as your sister” Shamhat jumped up and ran quickly Jumped up and ran to Ninshubar Fanning her breast heat she told all Ninshubar listened, then counseled. Fanning herself, Shamhat listened. “He will treat you like your father He will treat you like your mother He will be as close as your brother He will be as close as your sister Open your temple door to him. I will bath and scent your hair Arrange precious colored lapis beads I will braid your long black tresses Enter with the moons light on you Ishtar’s light shines ever brighter.” In moon’s light she shone before him She pressed her neck close against his Shamhat murmured, “play your reed pipe Play with your arms around me love Ishtar opens her door to Tummuz.” Shamhat crooned, “my boat of heaven Rocks on the waves of your passion The wind of your reed pipe music Fills the sails of my heart’s desire Sweet man, I have lost my anchor.” Tummuz replied, “I’m led by stars, Let me guide this rocking vessel Let me breathe your fresh ocean sea, Plowing through waves of your passion Let me captain Ishtar’s vessel.” Her high ocean rose to meet him Then fell with him into her trough And rose again higher, ever higher Waves of their passion rolling on Hands holding her to his set course. She cried; “reap from my wet sea Fill my baskets with your treasure Follow my star to safe harbor I am the queen of her temple You may captain Ishtar’s vessel. Sweet man, I am caught in your net. Sweet man, lose you fish spear in me. Come into my boat of heaven. Plow the waves like the ox plows fields, Come fisherman, take my rudder.” I am the fish out of water. I am caught in your fish net. Oh sweet man rise in my ocean, Like the great fish, spouting fountain, Come fisherman throw your fish spear. Tummuz held the boat of heaven He plowed her towering waves His arms holding her to his course. He pulled Shamhat in to him Piloting her ship of heaven. In the calm after the sea storm Shamhat lay with her man, Tummuz. His, the delight of all Sumner. He watched over Ishtar’s great priestess, I, Ishtar pulled their boats ashore. At the end of the guards third watch, After first light on the east horizon, After roosters announce the day, Mine scribe did not come to report, Old Belili brought our breakfast. At sun up the astrologers Report and record their night readings, Venus ascends high in the sky, Mars is near a horn of the moon, Portents of war and crossed lovers. The pale men’s voices shake with fear “In the land of the two rivers Her glance can overthrow an army Her glance can overthrow cities Shamhat, you must betray your lover.” Ninshubar said, “he’s from the marshes Where they fish and make our baskets. You are Ishtar’s greatest priestess, The astrologers speak the truth, Gilgamesh is king of Uruk.” That night, Geshtinana made my bath Belili lit the night’s scented lamps A young maid anointed my body Set outside mine seeing, hearing. Tummuz post mine temple guards. Shamhat spoke, “without your mother Without your sister Geshtinana You’d be driven into the marsh Who gave you Isthar’s lover’s name, You think you are as good as he?” “He replied: “do not quarrel lady. Why do you speak of the shepherd? Open up your door great lady I have brought you fresh oysters. This is my offering to your temple. Shamhat said, “you have fresh oysters, Who will steam them my open my love? Tummuz said, I will steam them open Who will shuck the meat my love? Tummuz said, I will shuck them love (Shamhat) Come, you open Ishtar’s reed door. Tummuz held the boat of heaven He plowed her towering waves His arms holding her to his course. He pulled Shamhat in to him Piloting her ship of heaven. In the calm after the sea storm Shamhat lay with her man, Tummuz. His, the delight of all Sumner. He watched over Ishtar’s great priestess, I, Ishtar pulled their boats ashore. The next night Tummuz at my door Shamhat warned, “without your mother Without your loving family You’d be driven into the marsh Who gave you Ishtar’s lover’s name? “He replied: “do not quarrel lady. Why do you speak of the shepherd? Open up your door great lady I have brought you fresh white marsh shrimp. This is my offering to Shamhat. Shamhat said, “you have marsh white shrimp? Who will cook until they are red?” Tummuz said, I will cook them red. (Shamhat)“Who will shuck the shell my sweet Love?” (Tummuz)“I will shell, salt, and butter them” (Shamhat) “Come into my reed temple door.” Tummuz held the boat of heaven He plowed her towering waves His arms holding her to his course. He pulled Shamhat in to him Piloting her ship of heaven. In the calm after the sea storm Shamhat lay with her man, Tummuz. His, the delight of all Sumner. He watched over Ishtar’s great priestess, I, Ishtar pulled their boats ashore. The next night Tummuz at my door Shamhat spoke, “without your mother Without your loving family You’d be driven into the marsh Who gave you Isthar’s lover’s name, “He replied: “do not quarrel lady. Why do you speak of the shepherd? Open up your door great lady I have brought you fresh river clams. My offering to you, Shamhat. Shamhat said, you have river clams, Who will steam the clams open love? Tummuz said, I will steam them love (Shamhat) Who will pry them open my love? (Tummuz) My clam knife will open them love. (Shamhat) Come into my open door man. Tummuz held the boat of heaven He plowed her towering waves His arms holding her to his course. He pulled Shamhat in to him Piloting her ship of heaven. In the calm after the sea storm Shamhat lay with her man, Tummuz. His, the delight of all Sumner. He watched over Ishtar’s great priestess, I, Ishtar, envious of Shamhat. At the end of the guards third watch, After first light on the east horizon, After roosters announce the day, Ninshubar said, “your scribe is gone.” And great Uruk, your city, quakes with fear. The pale men’s voices also shake “In the land of the two rivers Her glance can overthrow an army Her glance can overthrow cities Save us, you must betray your lover. Great lady, have you not seen it! Venus rids a comets long tail, Mars is on the horn of the moon, Certain disaster great lady.” Save us, you must betray your lover.” The next night, Tummuz at my door, Shamhat spoke, “Isthar’s lover’s gift, Sheep’s pure white wool, her bridal dress, What do you have that is as pure?” (Tummuz), “Pearls white as Ishtar’s bridal dress. Rare even at the lowest tide, A thousand shells opened for one. Release me from temple duty, And your pure bridal dress will gleam, With treasures from my wide blue seas. I will be like the great hunter, seeking that which hides from me. I will be like the poor farmer, plowing the low tide oyster beds. I will be like the shepherd, who finds the sacrificial lamb.” Crying tears Shamhat called for it She called for the Bed of Kingship, She called for the Bed of Queenship, Sobbing she made love with passion Her mind had lost its stone anchor. The bed that sweetens men’s loins, Shamhat spread white cotton sheets. She said, “the bed is ready.” She said, “the bed is waiting.” “I will hold to you dear husband.” The aromatic cedar post He laid me down on my Queen’s Bed He laid me down on his King’s Bed Under the Huluppu tree Our bridal sheets lost at our feet. After the morn roosters crowing, Ninshubar said, “Tummuz is gone.” He left his sword, he left his shield Left his mother and his sister Left with his marsh reed willow song.
  8. That last line is two long. You could have gone 4-4-5-4-5 in stanza lines instead of your 4-4-5-4-4. It would put more emphasis on your last stanza. Love your metaphor mixing of stars, fate, and God. Nicely done.
  9. gteverette

    Nothing

    I really hope you get through this phase of your poetry soon Normal User. It is inventive, you poetry has always been, but your latest stuff seems so inert and always presses the point, "what is the point" without a question mark.
  10. The title is the most important part of a poem and you picked a must read one, very nice. I bet it is the answer to Al-Mufeed's question, but I still stand by my original statement. Unless this is a targeted message, you must consider a very wide audience with the internet. Rely on it. Make your characters interesting enough to make them want to Google Husain's name. That means you need details.
  11. gteverette

    Burden

    Strong structure, short two line stanzas, no forced rhymes, all help carry a message of patience and hope for a better future. The message is one of my mother's favorites, "vengeance is mine says the Lord."
  12. I love rhyming when it works, but when it does not help carry the message of the poem, it is a distraction.
  13. gteverette

    Nothing

    Very nullius, in a stumbling drunken kind of way.
  14. I think the poem tries to made a point. The mass media is always projecting an image of Islam that is not the reality of the vast majority, yet, many impressionable youths can take this image as their identity. As far as craft goes for this poem, I don't like it much, but to reach the poems objective, I can't think of another way much less a better way. So, even with my scruples, I rate this as success. Way to break new ground Nadir.
  15. The Forever War, by Joe Haldeman This is the only book, fiction or hard science, that makes a reality of time dilation, to show how our current hopes and dreams that we so ostensibly say we will die for are so transitory.
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