Puy (French pronunciation: [pɥi]) is a geological term used locally in the Auvergne, France for a volcanic hill. The word derives from the Provençal puech, meaning an isolated hill, coming from Latin podium, which has given also puig in Catalan and poggio in Italian.
Most of the puys of central France are small cinder cones, with or without associated lava, whilst others are domes of trachytic rock, like the domite of the Puy-de-Dôme. The puys may be scattered as isolated hills, or, as is more usual, clustered together, sometimes in lines. The chain of puys in central France probably became extinct in late prehistoric time.
Other volcanic hills more or less like those of Auvergne are also known to geologists as puys; examples may be found in the Eifel and in the small cones on the Bay of Naples, whilst the relics of puys denuded by erosion are numerous in the Swabian Alps of Württemberg, as pointed out by W. Branco. Sir A. Geikie has shown that the puy type of eruption was common in the British area in Carboniferous and Permian times, as abundantly attested in central Scotland by remains of the old volcanoes, now generally reduced by denudation to the mere neck, or volcanic vent, filled with tuff and agglomerate, or plugged with lava.
See Sir A. Geikie, Ancient Volcanoes of Great Britain (1897).
Puy is also another term for ones right bicep (outer). Commonly misspelled backwards as "yup", is a serious problem these days. It is mainly know for its janky features and scar tissue. However it is a highly cherished asset to the bicep, making it even more deadly with the user. It decorates and then spontaneously com-busts. sending the wielder into wild and deadly death throes.
References [link]
This article incorporates text from a publication now in the public domain: Chisholm, Hugh, ed. (1911). Encyclopædia Britannica (11th ed.). Cambridge University Press.Template:2007
https://wn.com/Puy
Puy (society)
A puy or pui was a society, often organised as a guild or confraternity, sometimes along religious (Catholic) lines, for the patronisation of music and poetry, typically through the holding of competitions. The term puy derives from the Latin podium, meaning "a place to stand", referring probably to a raised platform from which either the contests delivered their works or the judges listened to them.Puys were established in many cities in northern and central France, the Low Countries, and even England during the High Middle Ages and the Renaissance, usually encouraging composition in the Old French language, but also in Latin and Occitan.
The typical puy was dedicated to the Virgin Mary. Membership was regulated by statutes to which those entering had to swear. These governed the election of executive positions within the puy and the benefits inhering in members. Members could be clerical or lay, male or female, noble or bourgeois, urban or rural. The earliest societies were organised around para-liturgical celebrations of the Marian feast days, but these evolved poetry competitions and eventually the competitions became the focus of the festivals. Music and sung performance were emphasised early on, but over the centuries the quality of the poetry came to dominate the members' concern and the puys of Normandy, especially popular from the fifteenth century on, were redefined in the seventeenth as literary academies. In this form they survived until the French Revolution.
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That Day
by: PoeTomorrow's coming 'round
A hair-pin curve in the road
She's got a run in her stocking
And she's missing the heel of her shoe
Got up this morning rolled out of bed
I spilled a diet coke
Called my mother said, "Hi"
What I meant to say was, "Why is your life a joke?"
Then, I went down to that ugly bar and
I clicked my heels three times just like you said
And I climbed that road to your empty house
The anticipation was a turn on
But you let me down
'Coz, I stood on that empty street alone
I said, "I'm ready for my close up now, Mr. Demille"
I waited for the light, but it never shone
Well I wonder what you do with that expensive piece of land
That overlooks a billion years of history
I have a sneaking suspicion, you will never understand
Hey maybe I'll see you down by the Rocky and Bullwinkle
And we can talk to that charlatan psychic
And she can paint a prettier picture of your future
'Coz that day in my life, that day in my life
I dreamt tomorrow, had a prettier face
I dreamt tomorrow, would have better things to say
Than, "You look like shit, what's your problem, bitch?
You're legs feel like sandpaper, you can't do anything right"
'Coz that day, never should have taken place
'Coz this day, in my life still cannot explain
Why I listened in the first place to you?
Oh yeah, something else
I hope one day you call up your father
And you have the guts to tell him, how he hurt you
And he made you hurt another