Birthday poems financeirthday poems finance

Her beauty outshines the sun Makes the great flame seem cold With her beauty she is to melt for Hands far more gentle than a breeze Hot summer sun does the wind Mimic her gentle touch that caresses Any hand lucky enough to hold them Her voice ridding all violence Makes the thrush voice seen As her student with her melody Beautiful oceans of blue Mixing with the greenery of the forest Along with the cool yet warm earth All that surround her like a dress Completing her beauty Eyes that gleam than stars at night Moths that follow her glow at dark A smile that brings joy Placing rainbows to shame Pot of gold worth nothing at her side
For a woman like that i wish to serve

Hi, (I live in the UK)
I have been invited to my first interview! I need to plan a 20 minute reading lesson for year 3. I have chosen a crocodile poem as poetry is easier than starting a new text/story in 20 minutes. Only problem is that I can’t think of any tasks that are that short. Maybe annotate it?
The LO I’m thinking is to look at words to capture the interest of the reader (not worded like that) but I don’t know.
It feels like such a short amount of time. Even 30 minutes would be much better.
Thanks in advance for any help!

You will be surprised to know that if a child does not get his nourishment through his mother's milk, if he is not fed with his mother's milk, then his life-energy remains weak forever. He can be fed milk in other ways also, but if he does not regularly receive the warm touch of his mother's heart, then his life becomes frustrated forever and the possibility of his living long is reduced forever. Those children who are not fed on mother's milk can never attain to much bliss and silence in their lives.
The whole younger generation in the West, and gradually in India also, is becoming filled with great rebellion. The deepest reason for this, the root cause, is that Western children are not being fed on mother's milk. Their respect towards life and their relation to life is not full of love. From their very childhood their life-energy has received many shocks and they have become unloving. In those shocks, in the separation from their mother, they have become separated from life itself - because for a child there is primarily no other life than his mother.
All over the world, wherever women are becoming educated, they do not like to raise children close to them - and the effect has been extremely harmful. In tribal societies children are fed on mother's milk for a long time. The more a society becomes educated, the earlier the children are separated from their mother's milk. The sooner the children are separated from their mother's milk, the more difficulty they will have in experiencing peace in their own life. A deep restlessness will prevail in their life from the very beginning. On whom will they take revenge for this restlessness?
The revenge will be taken on the parents themselves. All over the world children are taking revenge on their parents. On whom else will they take revenge? They do not know themselves what kind of reaction is happening within them, what kind of rebellion is arising within them, what kind of fire is arising within them. But unconsciously, deep within, they know that this rebellion is the result of being separated from their mother too soon. Their hearts know this, but their intellect doesn't. The result is that they will take revenge on their mothers and fathers; they will take revenge on everyone.
As soon as he is born, a child is immediately separated from his mother. His second source of life-energy is related to the heart of his mother. But at a certain point a child will have to separate from his mother's milk too.
When does that right time come? It does not come as early as we think. Children should remain close to their mother's heart a little longer if their love and heart are to develop rightly throughout their life. They are forced to separate very early. A mother should not separate the child from her milk; she should allow him to separate on his own. At a certain point the child will separate on his own. For the mother to force the separation is just like taking the baby out of the womb after four or five months instead of allowing him to come out after nine months. It is as dangerous for a mother to separate her child from her milk before he himself decides to give it up. This effort of the mother is dangerous and because of this effort the second center, the heart center, of the child does not develop rightly.
While we are talking about this I would like to tell you something more. You will be surprised to hear it. Why is it that all over the world, the part of the woman's body towards which men are attracted to most is the woman's breasts? These are all children who were separated very early from their mother's milk. In their consciousness somewhere deep inside a desire has remained to be close to a woman's breasts. It has not been fulfilled - there is no other reason, there is no other cause. In tribal societies, in primitive societies, where the children remain close to the mother's breasts long enough, men have no such attraction towards the breasts.
But why are our poems, our novels, our movies, our dramas, our pictures all centered around the breasts of women? They have all been created by men who, in their childhood, could not remain close to their mother's breast long enough. That desire is left unfulfilled and now it starts arising in new forms. Now pornographic pictures are being created, pornographic books and pornographic songs are being written. Now men harass women on the streets, throw stones at them. We create all these stupidities and then later on we complain about them and try to get rid of them.
It is very necessary for the child to remain close to his mother's breasts long enough for his mental, his physical and his psychological growth to take place rightly. Otherwise his heart center will not develop properly - it remains immature, undeveloped, stuck.

From where to start
From where to start reading Bukowski? I started listening to some of his poems on YouTube, Bukowski's writing style seems to be minimalistic yet some of his poems like the crunch seem to hold deep meaning. Which of his novels or poetry books seems like a nice start?

Eivor is a bit of a strange protagonist.
She’s basically flawless and without blame. She’s brash and bold, proud and unashamed — brave and wise far beyond her years, yet able to be soft and compassionate when not brandishing spears. She’s got a knack for leadership, a strong moral compass and an even stronger muscular system with which to enact justice.
And she’s got bars?
As someone not deeply versed in medieval European histories, imagine my shock and confusion upon discovering that Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla included rap battling.
My first experience with Flyting had me asking so many questions about what I just witnessed that I couldn’t wait to begin Googling. I figured flyting probably was historically accurate, but if that’s the case, then what else can it tells us about the medieval warrior and about Eivor’s characterization?
I set off to find out.
--
Wikipedia and howstuffworks combined gave me a robust definition of flyting.
A ritual, poetic exchange of insults practiced mainly between the 5th and 16th centuries. Examples of flyting are found throughout Scots, Ancient, Medieval and Modern Celtic, Old English, Middle English and Norse literature involving both historical and mythological figures. The exchanges would become extremely provocative, often involving accusations of cowardice or sexual perversion.
The idea behind flyting was to influence public opinion of the participants and raise both of their profiles. And each participant wanted to make himself look better than the other, even if they were friendly.
Not only that, but flyting’s also the first recorded use of shit as an insult. That right there is worth this whole essay and then some.
--
I came away from those definitions with some small Euphoria, as they reinforce what I already expected from Ubisoft — historically accurate and (arguably) immersive side activities grounded in realism.
Unfortunately, none of the flyting foes that Eivor faces in this fantasy are founded in any real-world flyters. I was particularly frustrated when I realized Fergal the Faceless and Borghild the Alewife’s Bane were fictional features, not real historical fiends of rhythm and rhyme.
Two of Eivor’s syntax competitors are “real” in some sense, however.
In Norse mythos, Odin, Thor, Loki, Freyja and more would handle their Family Matters over a flyte from time to time, dueling wits and words as competition and entertainment.
In fact, one flyte we do see in game — Odin as he flytes over the river with Thor in the Asgard Arc — is likely a reference to a real medieval Norse poem; The Hárbarðsljóð.
In it, Thor jaunts back to Asgard after a journey in Jötunheim. He comes to a junction in which he must jump a large river, and thus hunts down a ferryman to shepherd him across. The ferryman, Hárbarðr, is Odin in disguise. He then begins to diss guys.
Ahem. ‘Guys’ being Thor, obviously.
First, Odin drops a yo-mama joke:

Of thy morning feats art thou proud, but the future thou knowest not wholly; Doleful thine home-coming is: thy mother, me thinks, is dead.

He keeps going, taking more shots than a First Person Shooter, this time saying Thor dresses like a girl:

Three good dwellings methinks, thou hast not; Barefoot thou standest and wearest a beggar’s dress; Not even hose dost thou have.

Thor says watch your mouth before I clap back:

Ill for thee comes thy keenness of tongue, if the water I choose to wade; Louder, I ween, than a wolf thou cryest, if a blow of my hammer thou hast.

Odin replies by saying Thor’s wife is fucking another dude:

Sif has a lover at home, and him shouldst thou meet; More fitting it were on him to put forth thy strength.

The version we play out in game isn’t identical to the real-world poem, but carries some similarities; Thor’s threatening to cross the river to fight Odin as well as his boasting of slaying giants are present in each.
Ratatosk is the only other ‘real’ flyting enemy in Valhalla. While Odin doesn’t flyte with Ratatosk in Norse myth to my knowledge, the flyting against the squirrel is thematically accurate, at least.
Ratatosk’s purpose is to scramble up and down Yggdrasil, scurrying spoken messages from the eagle that sits at its peaks to the snake that slithers at its base. The nature of Ratatosk’s messages is in line with the act of flyting — the mischievous rodent carries falsehoods and aggressive statements to stir up drama and distrust between bird and serpent.
Flyting took place not only in poems and folklore, but in town squares and royal court. It was a facet of medieval life and social interaction. This weaving of prose then, in this time period, seemingly was just about as much of an admired skill as the swinging of a sword. It’s no wonder our unbreakable warrior Eivor is so proficient with word.
--
Like, really proficient with word.
I mean, I know it’s me choosing the dialogue options, but sheesh, is there anything she can’t do?
Actually, Eivor’s expertise in flyting is strange to me. It feels random and unearned — out of character, even. It comes more unexpectedly than Kendrick Lamar’s Not Like Us.
It probably only feels out of character, however, due to our modern understanding of proficiency with words versus proficiency with might. Our current interpretation of verbal ability compared to physical ability would perceive verbal ability as the ‘softer’ of the two skillsets. Physical strength is typically interpreted as tough and more dominant. You don’t expect to see an MMA fighter composing poetry, do you? The qualities that modern thought attributes to writing and physicality don’t mesh.
But in reality — and historically accurately in Valhalla — medieval warriors weren’t just blind berserkers. They were actually artists, poets and writers.
We’ve already demonstrated how Odin and Thor — Norse myth’s most famous warriors — carried out flyting. Thus, medieval Vikings would’ve surely done the same. Beyond Vikings though, the Illiad contains instances of public, ritualized abuse. Taunting songs are present in Inuit culture while Arabic poetry contains a form of flyting called naqa’id. Further, Japanese Samurai were known to be frequent composers of haiku, while Japanese culture also gave birth to Haikai, poetry in which vulgar satire and puns were wielded.
This historical accuracy ends up eliminating the randomness of Eivor’s flyting ability. Despite her verbal finesse feeling unearned, we can surmise historically that Eivor has practiced the wielding of words plenty in her life before we take over as the player. She’s dedicated time to this.
Now that we know why she has it, we can take a closer look at what it does for her.
--
So, Eivor can rap. She can match you with her axe or she can match you with her words. She’s just about unbeatable.
Her mastery of words demonstrates on some level that she’s not all Push Ups and might is right. She’s not all bruiser and bluster, burn and berserk. She’s an appreciator of the finer things — the more abstract, mental skills that require brain power, deftness and finesse.
This duality of strength and genius rounds out Eivor into a deeper, richer, more admirable character. More than just raw muscle in pursuit of glory, Eivor’s mastery of verse demonstrates her prioritizing not just her body, but her mind.
And it goes a long way for her.
Eivor can use her prowess with prose to progress past pointless plot points throughout Valhalla’s plethora of arcs and missions. It’s just a stat check in the end, but with enough practice flyting and enough charisma gained, Eivor unlocks new dialogue options that bend the world around her to her will.
Witch hunters in Eurvicscire on the brink of terrorizing Moira can be dispersed verbally rather than brawled or killed. There’s an entire riddle-solving fetch quest in Wincestre that can be skipped completely by telling King Aelfred’s abbot fuck off (figuratively). Eivor’s sharpening of her mind protects her body, saves her time, and allows her to frictionlessly fell her endeavors.
Her articulate advances don’t just alter her into admirability, they allow her to influence people and progression. With semantics from her mouth and twists from her tongue, Eivor can have her way whenever she wishes. In a game this large, I’m only left longing that the opportunity to make use of this charisma wasn’t relegated to niches.
Regardless, if medieval England is butter, Eivor’s tongue is the hot knife that behooves her move through her subduing more smoothly.
It all just goes to show that ̶m̶i̶g̶h̶t̶ flyte is right.

I’M STILL HERE
I’m here
But who is there?
.
knock knock… Anyone inside?
is it just a Shell?
Empty
or… maybe, just maybe
a hidden ocean hides deep inside
.
it sure looks empty. But come closer
you can feel it if you get close enough
.
pay attention and you can hear the universe
all the voices coming together
.
Are they pieces, fragments of a single being?
Are they broken, like a vase thrown at a door in a fit of rage
Are the crouched over, trying to hide?
.
there are Monsters outside
the Monster loves you
the Monster did its best
.
But it did not break you
.
You are strong
You can still pick up the pieces and heal
You can still fly

i haven't poem-ed in a while do nouns used as verbs bother you? oh well. many things bother many people. part of life is learning to live with this. being at peace with this would be nice. but not a luxury all can afford. have I poem-ed enough for today?
did I poem at all?

I keep listening to your songs even though I shouldn’t. The poem you wanted me to listen to. I get it. I understand. But I don’t know if it was real.
I found a new song by the same artist. It screams all the things you implied but never said. I guess when my mind is right again I will stop listening to his songs.
I don’t know why you went silent that day. Why would you do that to me? Why tell me you’re in love with me at all?
I don’t know what was real and what wasn’t. I don’t know what parts of you were true. But I know there are things you want I simply can’t give you. We both knew our story wouldn’t have a happy ending. It couldn’t.
So, I’m in love with a person who really doesn’t exist anywhere but in my mind. For now, he can live there. In my mind, we can work outside with the smell of hay and the sound of the birds. You can build the greenhouse with me like you promised. And at night, with the windows open and on the fan on, I can rest my head between your collar and your jaw. In my mind, you can be my safe place to rest my head.

I want to write. I want to write random things in a low stakes environment so I'm creating this. Feel free to share your thoughts, random musing, short stories, poems yada yada yada.
Important things to note -

• Also, I want this to be an open-minded, comfortable, positive environment. I will delete any negative comments and block you for repeated offences. Comment on posts to say positive things, but only provide criticism if OP asks for this in their post.
• Just to emphasize this point, when posting, please specifically ask for critic from readers. You can do this as part of the title, or bold it in your post or however else you would like to.
• NO NSFW video or GIF content! Writing stuff can be NSFW (ONLY ALLOWED WITH TAG)

Will add more to this as we go along

In the realm where tech and creativity blend, Bambu Lab's innovations seem to have no end. With printers like the X1-Carbon, so sleek and robust, They make 3D printing a must, not just a lust. The P1S and P1P, oh how they shine, Crafting models so precise, they're nearly divine. Filaments of every hue, PLA to PETG, Bambu's materials are top-notch, a quality pledge. Accessories galore, from PEI plates to hotends, Enhance durability, on Bambu one depends. The AMS system, a marvel to behold, Automates the mundane, its story told. For creators and makers, Bambu Lab's a dream, Where digital designs gain the physical sheen. So let's raise a cheer for this beacon of creation, Bambu Lab, the hub of 3D printing innovation. 

For Literature, my teacher said I need to be more insightful though I did some inferences in the analysis of poems.
How to be more insightful in poetry analysis? She doesn’t even teach us the techniques… Can someone enlighten please? Thanks!