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Saxaphone Player at Union Square, New York City Subway Station
Perhaps someone in the audience knows the name of this tenor saxophonist, who wonderfully performs the at Union Square subway (Underground) station in NYC. The song he plays, "Because You Loved Me," a Celine Dion mega hit.

By : Stanley Pacion     Added : 10 May 2014
Chinese Musician at Canal Street, New York City Subway Station
Perhaps some in the You Tube audience might identify the instrument the muscian plays, or might no his name and something about his life story.

By : Stanley Pacion     Added : 18 November 2014
THE WORD [The Video has Closed Captioning]
Click the "Captions Icon" to "ON" at the bottom of the video, if not already playing. 31 March 2014, My YouTube Channel, Stanley Pacion, counts 225,000 + Hits, Single Page Visits SUBSCRIBE, Please. Full Text WORDS HERE (Show More) http://stanleypacion.blogspot.in/2014/03/the-word-lovers-exhortation.html ~~ Or ~ http://www.stanleypacion.com ~~ https://www.facebook.com/stanleypacion ~~ India EveryDay: http://83.170.91.156/video/u/StanleyPacion.htm?ss=THE WORD, A Lover's Exhortation Well! What do you say, honey? I believe that I say it right. It is God alone Who knows The one dimensionality -- the real tragedy -- The empty when we call upon the soul. Only He can quell the hunger, quench the thirst. But, sweetheart, hey! I tell you now. Forget it! Fly straight! Think of the Frick with its fabulous El Greco, Small though that one painting is, it amply captures the fury, When Jesus castigates the money changers. The Word is clear. No man may serve two masters. God loves the prisoner, the downcast, the lame. He loves the lilies of the field. Grass need not care how it clothes itself. Though great it may be to be King, what profit in it, When the first shall be last and those with least, Most, and beggars shall inherit the earth, And children be fountains of wisdom? We have seen the sorry example, What terrible breach of precept! Celebrated priests and magistrates have not known the Lord, Yet once He had stood right there before them.

By : Stanley Pacion     Added : 31 March 2014
WINTER LOVE MELANCHOLY [Video has Closed Captions]
Click the "Captions Icon" to "ON" at the bottom of the video, if not already playing. 11 March 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/winter-love-melancholy.html ~~ Or ~ http://www.stanleypacion.com ~~ https://www.facebook.com/stanleypacion ~~ India EveryDay: http://83.170.91.156/video/u/StanleyPacion.htm?ss= WINTER LOVE MELANCHOLY The seabirds cry out across the harbor. I hear from them a high lonesome song. And in the distance a fog horn, It, too, sounds a plaintive note, Repeatedly reviving my sorrow. The damp, hard, winter wind frightens me. I have a bad shiver. The nights remain very long. I no longer seem able to recall how Once a summer sun had warmed the days. Even though I use both my hands And pull down hard upon my stocking cap, Its edges fall short of cover for my ears. I know that I might never kiss her again. Mercy, please Mercy! What hope now for life, When Heart has packed her clothes and left me!

By : Stanley Pacion     Added : 11 March 2014
RED ROOF INN [Video has Closed Captioning]
Click the "Captions Icon" to "ON" at the bottom of the video, if not already playing. 26 May 2014, My YouTube Channel, Stanley Pacion, counts 229,000 + Hits, Single Page Visits SUBSCRIBE, Please. Full Text WORDS HERE (Show More) http://stanleypacion.blogspot.in/2014/05/red-roof-inn-love-few-miles-north-of.html ~~ Or ~ http://www.stanleypacion.com ~~ https://www.facebook.com/stanleypacion ~~ India EveryDay: http://83.170.91.156/video/u/StanleyPacion.htm?ss=THE RED ROOF INN, Love a Few Miles North of Trenton, New Jersey Darling, darling, girl, Much between us remains unsaid. Remember that first overnight date at the Red Roof Inn? I am in search of this lost time. An impossibly large bed stretched out across the room. Between its feet and a long chest of drawers A narrow aisle traveled the length. It ran from the front door to the rear of the room. And you, there, in your bikini briefs, At the end of the aisle, you were in an alcove, An enclosure directly opposite the bathroom. The area occupied half the suite's entire width. Your back to me, You stood up against a cantilever table. It was a wall-to-wall vanity with a big mirror. The mirror, you recall, was as long as the table's surface, And it covered the entire back wall up to the ceiling. Recessed lamps provided light from overhead. You brushed your hair, and With each stroke I witnessed the sinews beneath your skin, Your bones, how your shoulder blades flexed. I rose up from the bed, Took a few steps, And then, still from behind you, I remained behind you, I bent my torso forward at the waist. I was squatting on my haunches, When I extended my arms between your legs. Each one of my hands was wrapped around one of your ankles. My fingers held you just above your feet; My thumbs pressed upon your Achilles tendons. Head-down, I pulled myself close to you. My left shoulder went to the center, It rested within a spot between your buttocks and legs. The left side of my chin found a niche, It touched the back of your right knee. That was my posture when I had at first embraced you. Once I stood up, Regained at least some sense of composure, I told you that I had never personally encountered a woman, Who looked so much the better naked than clothed. "Wow!" Burst out. And you said, "You sure know how to compliment a girl." I was dumbfounded. I thought for a moment; I took a moral attitude, yet my tongue was tied. I spoke these words, yet they were only to myself. 'Woman! Trust my veracity. 'Do not confuse my honest praise with flattery.' Then, pretending to further my defense, I more or less recalled the poet's immortal words, Those lines about truth and beauty being one, And is not response to beauty, truth? I ran the maxim in my mind. I remained speechless. 'Beauty is truth, truth beauty.' I dwelled in total awe of you. And when old age our generation shall waste, And time brings world to more and other woes, We have had this moment and its sentiment remains -- 'Darling, that is all,' I quoted the lines to myself, I had not uttered a word aloud, 'You know on earth, and all you need to know.'.

By : Stanley Pacion     Added : 26 May 2014
TODAY'S SCENERY [Video Has Closed Captions]
Click the "Captions Icon" to "ON" at the bottom of the video, if not already playing. 20 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/winter-love-melancholy.html ~~ Or ~ http://www.stanleypacion.com ~~ https://www.facebook.com/stanleypacion ~~ India EveryDay: http://83.170.91.156/video/u/StanleyPacion.htm?ss= TODAY'S SCENERY See the features of the landscape before you. Delight in the moment. Honor all things as fresh and new. One thing certain, No matter how far and long you may travel, Or if for years you just remain Within the walls of your home and garden, You will never pass by today's scenery again.

By : Stanley Pacion     Added : 20 February 2014
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 elctronic numbers on my computer clock read 21:59.

By : Stanley Pacion     Added : 18 February 2014
CATULLUS POEM 5, An Adaptation of an Ancient Roman Love Poem [Closed Cationing]
Click the "Captions Icon" to "ON" at the bottom of the video, if not already playing.14 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/catullus-poem-5-adaptation-of-ancient.html ~~ Or ~ http://www.stanleypacion.com ~~ https://www.facebook.com/stanleypacion ~~ India EveryDay: http://83.170.91.156/video/u/StanleyPacion.htm?ss= CATULLUS POEM 5, An Adaptation of an Ancient Roman Love Poem I am here to repeat ancient wisdom: What do we care what the joyless say? They should get lost, all of them! Once our tiny, brief light is pinched out, There is no night, like that everlasting night, When earth replaces heaven. So let's kiss, and let's kiss again. Let's kiss a thousand times, and, then, Let's do it all over again, those kisses. "How many? How many? How many? How many?" You ask. Let's not count our kisses Make no mistake about it. People out there are jealous. I hear that some of them have the evil eye, That once they learn the number of our kisses, They would use black magic to hurt us. No one should know how many.

By : Stanley Pacion     Added : 14 February 2014
SOUR GRAPES [Video has Closed Captions]
Click the "Captions Icon" to "ON" at the bottom of the video, if not already playing.11 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/sour-grapes-original-love-poem-after.html ~~ Or ~ http://www.stanleypacion.com ~~ https://www.facebook.com/stanleypacion ~~ India EveryDay: http://83.170.91.156/video/u/StanleyPacion.htm?ss= Sour Grapes, An Original Love Poem after the Verse of Catullus Understand, I always liked that guy, Herb. Let's just say, I was fond of him. I respected him as a colleague. Yet now, my once good feelings for him have nosedived. Of course, I was attracted to you, Hey, your allure, it tempted me! The way you stood, You naturally knew how to complement your height. You made yourself demure, such poise. You bent your left knee slightly forward, Then tilted your shoulders from the waist Settling them downwards just a smidgen to the right. And that smile of yours, allow me to say it, You were gorgeous, and I always favored a brunet. Not to forget your intelligence, hands down, You, why you were the smartest woman I had ever met! Nonetheless, propriety required I not make a move. I was Herb's friend, How would you expect me to behave? And you must recall? You do remember, don't you? No doubt about it, I had been otherwise engaged, Let's just say, I was a very busy man! You might not have realized my busyness's full extent; Facts are, I had been occupied on too many fronts. I know. I know. I missed the bus. The train had left the station. I had my chance. Passed on what very well might have been... Good Lord, when I think about it, the splendid opportunities, How had I allowed so much to go by, Happiness and achievement, the years of them! Look. I am putting this on record. The facts are the facts. It had not been my fault, I swear! It was that Herb, he had blocked my way, He puffed himself up and proudly took the stance, Made it clear that silly me, you were his. Believe me! I still picture this moment, today. I do not really care for the fellow anymore, Even the thought of him bothers me. I don't even like repeating his name. Yet now it amounts, my feelings unchanged, And as you have already told me, it is forty years later! I want it known, the world to know, Now and forever, my regret, How could I have missed the chance -- That I might have shared love and time with you, Too much to bear. but please, understand! Just gimmie a break. Don't blame me! I swear to it! It was him. He stood in my way. Though once a friend, I really have no regard for that guy anymore, zero, no, Not a bit. The thought of him gets my stomach sick. By the way, given one of my chief faults of character, I am unlikely to hear of any ameliorating circumstance. I do not even wish to repeat his name.

By : Stanley Pacion     Added : 10 February 2014
PLEDGING MY LOVE [Video has Closed Captions]
Clicking the "Captions Icon" at the bottom of the video, if not "ON" already. 29 January 2014, My YouTube Channel, Stanley Pacion, counts 222,000 Hits, Single Page Visits SUBSCRIBE, Please. Full Text WORDS HERE (Show More) http://stanleypacion.blogspot.in/2014/01/pledging-my-love-2014.html ~~ Or ~ http://www.stanleypacion.com ~~ https://www.facebook.com/stanleypacion ~~ India EveryDay: http://83.170.91.156/video/u/StanleyPacion.htm?ss= PLEDGING MY LOVE Abide with me for fast closes the day. Darkness deepens with alacrity, Nothing halts the night. Stay with me while time permits. Although other comforts flee, Accept I mean the best, Spare your soul from bottom and regret. In every deed, and in my every word, I want to be true, do right by you. Though many things to tell, But just one sums it right, One thing huge, deep and great, With ocean of delight, My heart embraces you. You, my love, are all my life today. I wish to assure, let it be known, Though you in mortal moment seem, Great Light, Infinity, blesses you. Happy outcome, whatever your secret dreams, God's will be done. May you be granted the strength to carry it out. And I add, I hold belief, whose strength No public fire, no coliseum of wild, angry beasts, No awful rendition, torture in far-off land, Might ever shake, nothing my faith dissuade. Yes! Certain, as I write, For you awaits the greatest gift -- That at the hour when you awake, No matter the season, Whether you are happy or sad, You will have learned the simple prayer, And with all your heart you will have come to believe, 'Thank You. Thank You, Lord, for life, And yet all You do for me.'

By : Stanley Pacion     Added : 29 January 2014
SWEET TALK [Video has Closed Captions]
26 January 2014, My YouTube Channel, Stanley Pacion, counts 222,000 Hits, Single Page Visits SUBSCRIBE, Please. Full Text WORDS HERE (Show More) http://stanleypacion.blogspot.in/2014/01/sweet-talk.html ~~ Or ~ http://www.stanleypacion.com ~~ https://www.facebook.com/stanleypacion ~~ India EveryDay: http://83.170.91.156/video/u/StanleyPacion.htm?ss= SWEET TALK Out in Arizona my Dad grew roses. He embraced the great merit, Loved to say, How he enjoyed cultivating his own garden. That spot he tended along side the house, It was the love of his retirement. I saw those roses disporting, Performing and they were real pretty, Showing off their tightly petaled spiraling centers. Seems they climbed those long-tall trellises just to flaunt, Dazzle the onlooker with the grace of their towering ascent. And what beauty in their many colors, Their outfits boasting red, and pink, And the truest bright of yellow, While others bore garb, All infussed with hues of gold and orange. With that said, It seems as though I have written myself into a predicament. How do I dare still to proclaim that Those roses never flowered like you. No! They never looked the way, The way you looked tonight, darling. Sure! No doubt about it. Many might find this kind of talk Coy, no more than borrowed phrase and imagery, Notions common in the language of the heart. So here's the twist. I swear to it. I tell the truth, The whole truth and nothing but the truth, The same as if I stood in court of law, My right hand raised, the left upon the Holy Book. By solemn oath I declare, My flattery means to please your heart, The same as would the wrappings on any special gift. So help me, honey, know these words, My terms of endearment are honest and sincere.

By : Stanley Pacion     Added : 26 January 2014
HARVEST FESTIVAL, Skördefest, September 2013 [Video has Closed Captions]
10 January 2014, My YouTube Channel, Stanley Pacion, counts 221,000 Hits, Single Page Visits SUBSCRIBE, Please. Full Text WORDS HERE (Show More) http://stanleypacion.blogspot.in/2014/01/harvest-festival-skordefest-september.html ~~ Or ~ http://www.stanleypacion.com ~~ https://www.facebook.com/stanleypacion ~~ India EveryDay: http://83.170.91.156/video/u/StanleyPacion.htm?ss= HARVEST FESTIVAL, Skördefest, September 2013 Would you but bale the hay, darling, And then put the pumpkin atop So that I might end my search And have signpost to a loving heart. Or better yet! Why not erect a pumpaguben? Tie upon its giant metal frame All the pumpkins and gourds, All the color you can find, Then set its hands and arms askew, And on its uppermost pole Mount a great-big autumn squash as its head With beets for eyes and a carrot for a nose, And fix some purple harvest corn for its teeth. Be sure to arrange straws of hay across the crown So the guben has some hair. Then surely I would have right direction, Know where your table's set. And having had Ready advertisement to your dishes, baskets and trays I would proceed straight ahead; And once at that place I would have sample of your plenty stores: The pies, the stews and casseroles, The jars of pickled herring, Your cured salmon and your delicately minced whitefish balls, The many kinds of sausages, and patties Made from every kind of meat, domestic and wild, The gooseberry and cherry and the other bottled fruit, The lingonberry jams and the sandwich-style jelly cookies, The kaffebröds and your loaves of breads, doughs Which range from seeded, creamy rye to dark pumpernickel. And there before the display of your harvest and kitchen I might have hope to savor the bounty of your beauty, And to fill myself with the nourishment of your love, Feasting upon this sustenance For however many the days of my life remain..

By : Stanley Pacion     Added : 21 January 2014
WELL! WELL! WELL! [Video has Closed Cationing]
28 December 2014, My YouTube Channel, Stanley Pacion, counts 244,000 Hits, Single Page Visits SUBSCRIBE, Please. Full Text WORDS HERE (Show More) http://stanleypacion.blogspot.in/2014/01/well-well-well.html ~~ Or ~ http://www.stanleypacion.com ~~ https://www.facebook.com/stanleypacion ~~ India EveryDay: http://83.170.91.156/video/u/StanleyPacion.htm?ss= WELL! WELL! WELL! Well, well, well! It won't be long now, Our love writes out the lines, records its final story, And as in all things possessing world's glory Ends and soon vanishes without a trace. Perhaps we never meet again. We learn the awful ache, What separation means, Once time runs out, and we see, It's too late to mend a heart -- Let's make it plain -- A heart now rendered and torn apart. Right now I feel it's true, We shall never meet again, while Yet we remain this side of heaven, while We still abide on earth's shore of the river. Strange, yeah, how fragile my hope (Really quite ridiculous!) That you stop it with your forked tongue, Abandon your bad habit, and proclaim, Just admit it; you broke the deal! And, as for me, you know the story, Surrender, otherwise, forget it. Just tell all, say to one and all, I am gone, you've done me wrong. I swear, I don't care, I don't care. I am gone, gone, gone, gone! The hurt is bad, real bad. I am through with you in my face. Remember when I begged you, Had to implore, time after time, and again. You had your tickets booked in advance. You always knew when and where you were traveling. It was an easy request; I wanted a few months' itinerary. You pretended not to know the meaning, The meaning of the common, English word, itinerary. And when you had finally answered my supplication, And sent me your plans, you had fabricated a calender. Awful! None of your timings proved true. Actually, and here speaks the truth of the matter, It was sad, so very sad, After all the time we had spent together, And that we were well-suited in so many ways. Treachery, simplest poetic conceit sums it, It was game; you played me. You had a pack of lies. I've had it! I'm really gone! Moved on, Because you have done me wrong!

By : Stanley Pacion     Added : 10 January 2014
COUNT SLOBENDORF'S MISFORTUNE [Video Has Closed Captioning]
7 January 2014, My YouTube Channel, Stanley Pacion, counts 221,000 Hits, Single Page Visits SUBSCRIBE, Please. Full Text WORDS HERE (Show More) http://stanleypacion.blogspot.in/2014/01/count-slobendorfs-misfortune.html ~~ Or ~ http://www.stanleypacion.com ~~ https://www.facebook.com/stanleypacion ~~ India EveryDay: http://83.170.91.156/video/u/StanleyPacion.htm?ss= COUNT SLOBENDORF'S MISFORTUNE He was unable to recall When last he had seen the words, "I love you," form upon her lips. Still he had trouble facing the truth -- The woman had not cared for him. She sought only his fortune. She wanted his titles, home, and money. Then one day he began to feel that time spent with her The same as the thought of life sentence in prison.

By : Stanley Pacion     Added : 07 January 2014
HAVE YOU HEARD THE NEWS? [Video Has Closed Captioning]
6 January 2014, My YouTube Channel, Stanley Pacion, counts 220,000 Hits, Single Page Visits SUBSCRIBE, Please. Full Text WORDS HERE (Show More) http://stanleypacion.blogspot.in/2014/01/have-you-heard-news.html ~~ Or ~ http://www.stanleypacion.com ~~ https://www.facebook.com/stanleypacion ~~ India EveryDay: http://83.170.91.156/video/u/StanleyPacion.htm?ss= HAVE YOU HEARD THE NEWS? In Imitation of Rumi* Listen, listen, whoever you are, Nomad, idolater, worshiper of the flesh, However you may be labeled, Junkie, drunk, nasty son of a dog, You who have suffered in prison, or at the torturer's hand, Or have no home now, reduced to life on the dirt of the road, Listen, listen the news is good. Though you have sworn a thousand false vows, And have blasphemed, Though today your enemies delight in seeing you bleed, And the ravages of disease removes you from Every help of medicine and the comfort of your fellow man, Remember, God enters us through our wounds. Ours is the audacity of hope. *A original love poem adapted from a verse by Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Balkhī, also known as Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī, and more popularly in the English-speaking world simply as Rumi. He was a 13th-century Persian poet.

By : Stanley Pacion     Added : 06 January 2014

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