Ode To A Grecian Urn

[Oddjob0226]

Ode To A Grecian Urn

I got a new apartment close to my job;
My friends unloading boxes - all drunken slobs.
One stumbles upstairs -
"Hey! Watch where you go!
I don't trash your place."
But he's wasted, you know?
He falls to the left and leans to the right
With a 6 pack in his belly his grip ain't real tight.
I throw down my mattress and my own Guiness Stout,
As he bumps into the door frame I run to help out.
I'm there in time to see his ankle slip and turn;
My box hits the floor -
"Shit, man, you broke my Grecian urn!"

 

[Oddjob0226]

Aw, man, this was supposed to be in the Humor Forum. And I'm having no luck deleting it. Please ignore the above item, do not read it. Read this part first! Then procede to the above item to ignore it. Then ignore this, too. Clear?

 

[His Divine Shadow]

ROFLMAO!!! OJ, you total nut, I'm dying over here!!! ROFL!!!

 

[Oddjob0226]

ROFLMAO!!! OJ, you total nut, I'm dying over here!!! ROFL!!!

I don't know why they call it mental "illness" .... it sure feels more like "freedom"!

 

[Shem the Penman]

But what's a Grecian urn?

(This post brought to you by Straight Lines "R" Us.)

 

[His Divine Shadow]

The REAL ode:

John Keats. 1795–1821

625. Ode on a Grecian Urn

THOU still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape 5
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy? 10

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave 15
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair! 20

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearièd,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love! 25
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. 30

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea-shore, 35
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul, to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return. 40

O Attic shape! fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form! dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral! 45
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,
'Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.' 50

An example of an Urn:

 

[Ayla ny]

I'm sorry... did you say something?

 

[Oddjob0226]

But what's a Grecian urn?

It's what men hold their Grecian Formula in. I guess somewhere out there there's a Miss Clairol Urn for women....


(Bending out those straight lines....)

 

[sole seeker]

Great post, Oddjob. Are you the author?