BABE RUTH, Home Run Secret

BABE RUTH,

Home Run Secret

I pick a good one and sock it, 

Get back to the dugout, 

They ask me, what it was that I hit?

I tell them, I don't know, 

Except it looked good.

FOOLISH LOVE [The Video has English Subtitles]

FOOLISH LOVE [The Video has English Subtitles]

WORDS HERE (Show More) ~~ OR ~~ http://www.stanleypacion.com ~~ OR ~~  http://stanleypacion.blogspot.com/2011/06/foolish-love-rewrite-june-2011-oh-love.html **Rate, Comment, PLEASE**



FOOLISH LOVE, Rewrite, June 2011





Oh love, oh love, oh foolish love,

You make me feel as if,

I had drunk a gallon of Jack Daniels --

That I am powerless and my life unmanageable.



Oh love, oh love, oh foolish love,

I fear that Grace might not restore my sanity.

I stay up nights and pine away;

Allow my will to run to self riot.



Oh love, oh love, oh foolish love,

Where did I go wrong?

How was I not able to see that your allure,

Your devilish witchery, would ruin whatever

The chance I once had had

To check my faults of character.



Oh love, oh love, oh foolish love,

My age, my length of years,

Was I too slow to figure the sum,

Had wisdom failed me, and rendered me prey

A hundred times to the same old line?



You have broken my heart,

Enfeebled my muscles,

And many bones in my body ache.

You have cut my life to the quick.



The pain you cause, I know, I know!



Oh love, oh love, hope now gone,

For me nothing more, there is nothing more,

 But day after day of misery.

FIRE IN THE BRAIN, video edited. [With Closed Cationing]

FIRE IN THE BRAIN


Children watch me run through the streets, 
And wonder, what is it all about, my hurrying.

My eyes push forward, 
Cause me to squint. 
Then all at once I break into a smile.

And night after night in steady flow 
Ideas collect, press fierce, 
Hard against my brow.

The pressure makes for heat;
There is fire in the brain.

I hear words march with noise
Akin to soldiers' boots slapping on pavement.

I see your gaze upon me.
The beauty of your large brown eyes 
Engulfs my neural circuitry.

Oh I smell wheat grass! 
It's being blended with fresh strawberries and oranges.

I love the juices' heady odor, 
When ever I breathe it in --
I am reminded of you.

We looked out the window. 
We sat upon stools at a Formica bar,
A long, plate-glass window provided unobstructed view, 
And we people watched the intersection, 
Corners at avenue and street, the sidewalk before us, 
They became our theater, and we agreed; 
It was pleasant evening's entertainment.

Pressed, cardboard cartons contained our suppers.
We ate our meals with plastic forks and knives; 
The napkins were brown, recycled paper.

Believe me, no irony intended. Honest! 

Every memory, every instant
My being with you, every occasion was lovely! 
I shall die a happy man.

Die a happy man? 
Here's my defense. 
However I may wonder, 
Whether ultimately I write fact or fiction.

Do I possess truth or fall to illusion? 

I know that those two forces bind me,
As is the case with Siamese Twins, 
Who are born to share common cerebrum.

In a language plain, common to us all,
Here I stand and bear witness,
Though that I am mere flesh and born to perish,
Spirit informs me and grants me friends,
Friends who are awaiting worship,
And friends of friends who celebrate the light,
A priesthood of all believers who patiently gather
Filling the rows of benches in the meeting hall.
And one by one this church affirms a new covenant --
God is love and death has no power,
The kingdom lives within us, our souls eternal.

TIME FLIES, 21:59 [Video has Closed Captions]

Click the "Captions Icon" to "ON" at the bottom of the video, if not already playing.18 February 2014, My YouTube Channel, Stanley Pacion, counts 223,000 Hits, Single Page Visits SUBSCRIBE, Please. Full Text WORDS HERE (Show More)  http://stanleypacion.blogspot.in/2014/02/time-flies-2159.html ~~ Or ~ http://www.stanleypacion.com  ~~ https://www.facebook.com/stanleypacion ~~ India EveryDay: http://83.170.91.156/video/u/StanleyPacion.htm?ss=

TIME FLIES;  21:59



Darling, Tempus fugit, right?

That's how the Latin goes.

Virgil, wasn't it?

But who cares anyways,

I  must say, hey Virgil, this is stupid stuff,

Because for me at home alone

The clock has stopped.



Then, when I take another glance,

I realize from the timepiece's face

That I had been mistaken, my impression wrong.

The clock's hands have apparently moved.



Yet far from time fleeting,

The hours drag, even the second hand --

Its motion becomes imperceptibly slow,

When you are gone and

Day and night must be faced alone.



And you write to me and say that before long

You will return home. You declare that

Less than three weeks remain,

Soon, you add, your absence today turns to memory,



And confidently profess, "time really does fly!"



But for me, no matter how you try to comfort,

Your words are empty; they do nothing to hasten the hours!

When I hear the clock, note the spaces

Between its regular tick-to-tock, those intervals,

They appear as if they were eternity, and your absence

-- Your face no longer upon your pillow,

Your body missing from your side of the bed --

You, you seem now to have been gone forever.





2.



I know. I know. You suppose that I exaggerate!

Still I am not acclimated to them,

These phenomena of your leaving,

Your terrible disappearances for the sake of business,

These separations, how may I ever become used to them!



You were reared differently from me.



When you were still a girl,

Your father was a frequent traveler;

From childhood on you grew accustomed

To experience longing, and you learned to practice

A ruse which had told your inner self that

He will be home before you know it.



I can hear you and your mother rehearsing the phrase,

When dad was gone and you two sat at home alone,

"Oh the days go by so fast!"



The electronic image of time before me

(to the bottom-right on the computer screen)

Its numbers read 21:59.



It sits. It waits.

Woman! Can't you see what you have done to me?

What it means to be without you?

Now before me looms the terror,

The nightmare forecast, have you heard

What new science tells us

About the desolation to which all things row?





3.



The universe endlessly expanding,

With its boundary beacons actually accelerating,

Points of light at outermost fabric of space/time,

Increasing speed, faster and faster, and distancing apart,

Separately hastening from one star-light point to another,

All of them at once unimaginably gaining velocity

Now farther and farther, becoming

Less and less visible one to the other,

Each spot, with its incredible luminosity,

All the great-big burns of atomic power

Endlessly hurling at quicking pace, hurrying and hurrying,

Ever picking up speed at the edge of empty space,

Scurrying to extend, stretching the cosmos,

Until ultimately everything that exists anywhere

Has no one object in sight of any other.



Might I ever hope to expect the bright of your eyes

To bridge the black night,

Where time slips into nothingness,

And the law of gravity no longer applies,

Every principle of attraction confounded.



Me having seen your face in every flower,

That once at summer's dusk we still felt warmth,

And at dawn when we awoke we felt it again.

My longing here, my each and every thought of you

Mean nothing when all spheres turn to final ice,

And all hope of perennial bloom becomes forlorn,



There is no sunshine when you're gone.



Time at a halt, no more even the instant, and in the abyss

No star glimmers, no light shines out of the darkness,



I wish you were in my arms tonight.



The electronic numbers on my computer clock read 21:59.

BANGALORE, WHITEFIELD, INDIA, Lane to Herbs & Spices

WELL! WELL! WELL!

Published on Dec 31, 2014

** SUBSCRIPTIONS, Thanks** WORDS & LINKS HERE: From a collection of his writings called A BIG BOOK OF HIS OWN Stanly Pacion recites a poem of bitterness and awful heart ache.http://stanley.pacion.googlepages.com... contains words/text for all poems, plus other images and poems. "When a child I played, entertained myself with crystal sets, later I became a ham radio operator. The fact that I now have an audience of several thousands and growing, that this audience has become increasingly world-wide, and that it hears and sees me while I read my lyric and prose is nothing short of astounding. I love my YouTube!"
For this poem ..........
Original BLOG LISTING 15 October 2008 http://stanleypacion.blogspot.com/sea... Or Use BLOG SEARCH (upper left corner) to Locate:
WELL, WELL, WELL!
Rewrite
It won't be long now,
Our love, how it plays its final story,
Like all else in worlds glory,
Soon end and be no more.

Perhaps we never meet again.
We learn the awful ache,
What separation means,
When time runs out and we see
Its too late to mend a heart
That has been rendered, torn apart.

Right now I feel its true,
We will never meet again, while
Yet we remain this side of heaven, while
Still we abide earths shore of the river.

Strange, yeah, our fragile hope
That you stop it with your forked tongue,
Abandon your bad habit, and proclaim,

Admit it; you broke the deal,
And, as for me, you know the story,
Surrender, otherwise, forget it,

Just say to all, to one and all,
I am gone, youve done me wrong.
I swear, I dont care, I dont care.
I am gone. Gone, Gone, Gone,

I am through with you in my face.

The hurt is real bad.
You hardly ever told the truth
Employed every kind of subterfuge,
Remember the time when I implored you,
Asked, time and time, again,
A simple request I wanted a few months itinerary,
You pretended not to know the meaning,
You pretended not to know
The meaning of the common English word,
And when you finally succumbed,
Sent me your plans,
Not a word of it proved true,
Awful, actually very sad,
After all the time we had spent together,
Face it! Your miserable fate, lousy life,
All of it predicated upon treachery.
All of it amounts to a pack of lies.

Ive had it! Im really gone! Moved on,
Because you done me wrong!