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Steffen Waltenberger Band. Magic Night Original Mix. The Blue Rose. Lebende Geister ab 19 Uhr Original Mix. Dirk Blumlein.

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Wrong Reality Original Mix. Takt 3. Good Vibes Original Mix. Thomas Siffling Trio. Davide Franca. Weekend Weapons, Vol. Sorted Beats. We Love Club Weapons, Vol.

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  • Live At The Losers Lounge, Vol. 2 | Joe Hurley.
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Sam Jay Tech House E min Technicoloured Melodies Original Mix S. Don't forget we'll have our open mic as always, so polish up those poems and get behind that mic!

See you all on Wed Oct 16th! Pitt Street Poetry published her illustrated chapbook of cat poems, The Duties of a Cat, in , and her first full-length book of poetry, The Loyalty of Chickens, in Chrys is a widely published poet and a happy performer of her work. Her work has been broadcast on BBC radio, appeared in anthologies, magazines and journals worldwide and been translated into several languages. Chrys is a trained performer and worked as an actress in theatre, radio and TV and was Director of her own touring theatre company before focussing full-time on her writing career.

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Check out the The Blue Nib accepting submissions for their poetry podcast! We are looking for exceptional poetry and short fiction that interpret the theme in any way you chose. Submissions are limited to one recorded piece. You must include a short 3 sentence biography, a mp3 or m4a file with your recording and a transcript of your submitted work. Come to Amy's Afternoon Delight at Bar ! More details soon Friday Admission free - Refreshments extra. Submission call from Dodging The Rain! I know it's not yet the season of giving, and that we all hate any mention of the C word before the Halloween decorations have even gone up.

If you're interested in sending us a piece about the holiday season, whatever your feelings on it, then have a look at our submission guidelines:. Ink Pods! From the The Blue Nib! Fab poetry podcasts by The Blue Nib! Might also work as Pokemon cards so we could trade them up for booze. Jump to. Sections of this page. Accessibility Help. The Quakers themselves, with their damnable worldliness and fashions or no fashions do not understand Hicks—even those who go by his name rather fear him, do not comprehend the gospel he preached and lived.

Hicks was a greater hero than any man Carlyle celebrated in his book. I would have had a lot to say about his democracy. There were features in his mysticism with which I had little sympathy but the purport of his message had my entire approval. Hicks was in the last degree a simple character—carried no aureole or shrine about with him—liked to be taken for one of the crowd.

He kept a house over his head and a little money in bank. He was not irresponsible—he did not default in his obligations: he lived the plainest life and he paid his bills.


  1. Event Information.
  2. A Glutton for Punishment (Damned If You Do Book 4).
  3. Joey and Parker A Tail of Two Cats.
  4. At Work in the Iron Cage: The Prison as Gendered Organization.
  5. Event Information!
  6. p.s. I Still Love You.
  7. I have found by experience that when I undertook to make a historic statement my facts were straight. Spoke of Hartmann's attempted Whitman club in Boston.

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    Fiordaliza Charles

    I had a letter from London the other day—from a young man there. He says he's a socialist—then says I'm a socialist, too. Tucker sees anarchism in the Leaves—sees me for an anarchist. So it goes. You are in the Plato class—the world class. You include all if you can't be included. Thank God! I hope I make room for all—include all—exclude nobody—nobody whatever—shut no door.

    If I have not achieved all I hoped for in that direction I hope I have hinted of it, started for it, made some motion as if to break the way. Then talked of his paralysis and the blood poisoning that led up to it. I seem to be remarkably constituted in one way—for being slow to affect things or be affected. I would never take a disease in a hurry—never make a convert in a hurry—and so on, so on. The trouble at Washington was the culmination of an unusual sympathetic and emotional expenditure of vital energy during those years partly this and perhaps directly from the singular humor of a New York lad there in the hospitals who demanded to have me—would accept no one but me—to see him through his trouble—a whim quite frequently encountered in sick people.

    I attended to him—bound his wounds—did everything possible for him. He was an extreme case—an awful case—dangerous at any time as a charge. He said that what would have made itself manifest in most others at once took a long time to appear in me. Even now, when they give me medicine, which in other men acts in an hour or two, it sometimes takes a day or two for that medicine to take effect. I always was deliberate—except for my vigor much as you see me now.

    I can see why Clifford said the other day that I made him think of Socrates. I never was nervous or quick.

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    On the other hand I had, I may say, an unusual capacity for standing still, rooted on a spot, at a rest, for a long spell, to ruminate—hours in and out sometimes. The stories of Socrates—of his courage, invincibility, nerve, inertia—are very credible: they seem quite possible: and, as you say, Horace, the non-miraculous garb in which they have come down to us does in some degree attest them. I heard a preacher speak of a man who was a "centerstance" rather than a "circumstance" in the universe. This struck W. The church is against freedom—the best church—against free interpretation—Clifford will some day rub the fur of the wrong fellow or fellows among his church-folk and then he will have to step out.

    It must happen sooner or later. My left arm never fully recovered from the shock of , though it has always been a useful remnant. My left leg was never itself again—was not restored—never reawakened. He may find a note or two for a text for a sermon. It is not without fear and trembling that I let it go—watch its course—send it on its voyage.

    What will be its effect? God knows. I have more fears than hopes. Horace, one of these days, after I am dead, when you find yourself saying things for me, say this for me—say this about Hicks: tell them how I planned for one thing and did another: repeat to them the words I have addressed to you about Hicks' democracy. Century proofs arrived. Gilder acquiesces in W. So I set to and rearranged the piece: discarded some parts, changed the position of certain paragraphs, besides inserting here and there a new sentence or dropping a bit. Fixed it with minute directions to the printer.

    This completes the copy for the book. He thought the new title called for because of the many changes made in the text. Had a letter from "a Western professor", he said, giving him "some sound advice concerning the prosody of Leaves of Grass. The harm's now about all done!

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    Some of 'em are even threatening. You take this advice, Walt Whitman, or, God damn you, we'll know the reason why! That kind of a gentle gentleman emerges from a schoolroom or a study once in a while to take me in hand. Some don't like my long lines, some do: some don't like my commas, some do: some cuss my long catalogues, some think them holy: some call Children of Adam decent, some call Children of Adam obscene: and so on, and so on, and so on. Nothing I have done but a lot of somebodies have objected—nothing I have done but a lot of nobodies have praised. What's the use?

    Wound up with saying: "My old daddy used to say it's some comfort to a man if he must be an ass anyhow to be his own kind of an ass!