Herschel Grynspan’s and Shakespeare’s plea for humanity

Herschel Grynspan spoke the words of all who suffer in a strange land because of hate and fear, discrimination and prejudice, race and gender, and envy.  Compare his plea to those of Shylock in Sha…

Source: Herschel Grynspan’s and Shakespeare’s plea for humanity

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Sleep with Shakespeare,lie with Joyce


It seemed a good idea at the time.But the timing was wrong.Shakespeare was my boyfriend’s friend.To be honest he was a cat.So to preserve my modesty I slept with the cat and not the boyfriend.Just another natural disaster in every day life.

Still,a cat has eyes unlike a flea which is what I sleep with now;
I know only because it bites me in the night!Possibly it was from the cat and became a multitude like my sins .which are mainly of omission.A  few are cultivated and the rest grew like weeds.I feel such shame when I think of my life,sleeping with everything but  a human being. Intimacy with moths does not contribute to literature or any other human undertaking and yet it saved a man from torment loving a woman with such a strange personality.So that is good.I also wrote a few plays

A midsummer night’s scream.

Julius seized me.

Richard the Blurred

King Fear

MacDuff,the pudding



Hams of old England.

Nymphs and Leopards.


Nietzsche’s word was my father.

Who won the Bore?

England’s screaming peasants blend

Death ,where is thy King?

Foreigner’a rile us.

Boldlock the beloved

I  made a few dollars selling myself to  an owl
.Beyond that my life is herstory.

Can I get bail?I hope the judge is  lenient

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The trees are calmer now as if they care.

The summer heat of Monday  disappeared
The brightness of the sky  filled me with love
Winter is still closer than we feared

Now in  the gale  the trees of birds are cleared
Grey rain clouds  will  congregateI above
The summer heat of Monday  disappeared

In a winter storm, I am not scared
I watch the channel  of the soothing dove
Winter is still closer than we feared

I’m lonely, sitting restless in the chair
Even death can feel like a rebuff
The  ardent heat of Monday  disappeared

The trees are calmer now, as if they care.
I feel  I ‘ve  lived with anguish long enough
Darkness is still closer than we feared

The tress are sacred standing in the  grove
A second is   eternal in rheir love
The summer heat of Monday  disappeared
Winter is much closer than we feared

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The right words







Poetry and Prose: Choosing the Right Words
© 1997 by Dorothy E. Robbins
A good vocabulary, gained through reading good poetry and prose, enhances poetic expression

This is a poetry column. Why would one discussing how to write good poetry encourage the readers to read good prose? Of course, we know that prose and poetry are closely related and parts of the language of every nation; both are means of communicating ideas and, obviously, one uses the same words for both. The conclusion is, therefore, that a well-read person has a larger vocabulary than one who reads little. This is not just a great asset, it is essential if one wants to write either prose or poetry and write it well. We want to see today how reading good prose helps one write good poetry – as well as discover through this how these two differ – as they very definitely do.
If one has a large vocabulary, one can pick and choose to find just the right word. And choosing the right word can make a difference in several ways. For example, which word would you choose if you were creating a poem using one of the following lines?

“Cry when I’m gone.” “Weep when I’m gone.”

Perhaps you would say that the word “weep” has a softer, more sympathetic sound. You might also realize that the alliteration between “weep” and “when” is pleasing to the ear and heart. Now, listen to the remainder of the poem and think how different it would have sounded if the word “cry” had been used. Note, also, other uses of alliteration that help to emphasize the ideas and lead one to the conclusion and climax at the end of the verse.

Weep, when I’m gone, if you must,
But know it is true, if you trust,
I’ll only be gone for a day;
And soon you’ll be going that way.
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Are we not too old for pleasures rash?

‘She held me in her arms and caressed me
Though she is 87 . I am 93.
I  felt a warmth run down my outside leg
The dog had peed on me, though taught to beg.
There was nothing else to do but strip right off.
When she saw me nude  it made her  froth
Are we not too old  for pleasures rash?
Why do you not  get the loving crush?
Get into bed and caress my left knee
For it gives excess suffering unto me.
Why go to bed when you need physiotherapy?
I read  that  lesbians enjoy sex,so why not me?
Well do you wish  me  bite   your  outer ear?
No,I prefer the  love without the fear.
Why not hug and kiss and say  night prayers?
We can get to  sex by gentle layers.
No,we are too old we cannot wait
We might die and it will be too late!
Well,if I die there are some younger folk!
Ah,but they don’t talk the way you talk.
So why are we in bed  just to converse?
I just desired to  be me and perverse.
Well, let me rub your back with chilli cream
If it hurts your bum ,you’ll have to scream.
What will the doctor think if I’m all red?
Just tell her   this: a tiger shared your bed
But would a cat be able to apply
This chilli cream to me at its first try?
I guess  I’ll have to  do a Ph.D
Called, what the cats I love have done to me.
Do you think I am a masochist?
I fear I cannot answer till we’ve kissed!
And after that  my memory is quite blank
If I am not a virgin,I’m a crank.
To think I had to wait till 93
To know what my own sex could do  to me.

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