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Hilaire Belloc

We wander for distraction, but we travel for fulfillment.

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Hilaire Belloc

I have wandered all my life, and I have also traveled; the difference between the two being this, that we wander for distraction, but we travel for fulfillment.

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The Wander-Light

And they heard the tent-poles clatter,
And the fly in twain was torn –
'Tis the soiled rag of a tatter
Of the tent where I was born.
And what matters it, I wonder?
Brick or stone or calico? –
Or a bush you were born under,
When it happened long ago?

And my beds were camp beds and tramp beds and damp beds,
And my beds were dry beds on drought-stricken ground,
Hard beds and soft beds, and wide beds and narrow –
For my beds were strange beds the wide world round.

And the old hag seemed to ponder
('Twas my mother told me so),
And she said that I would wander
Where but few would think to go.
"He will fly the haunts of tailors,
He will cross the ocean wide,
For his fathers, they were sailors
All on his good father's side."

Behind me, before me, Oh! my roads are stormy
The thunder of skies and the sea's sullen sound,
The coaster or liner, the English or foreign,
The state-room or steerage the wide world round.

And the old hag she seemed troubled
As she bent above the bed,
"He will dream things and he'll see things
To come true when he is dead.
He will see things all too plainly,
And his fellows will deride,
For his mothers they were gipsies
All on his good mother's side."

And my dreams are strange dreams, are day dreams, are grey dreams,
And my dreams are wild dreams, and old dreams and new;
They haunt me and daunt me with fears of the morrow –
My brothers they doubt me – but my dreams come true.

And so I was born of fathers
From where ice-bound harbours are
Men whose strong limbs never rested
And whose blue eyes saw afar.
Till, for gold, one left the ocean,
Seeking over plain and hill;
And so I was born of mothers
Whose deep minds were never still.

I rest not, 'tis best not, the world is a wide one
And, caged for an hour, I pace to and fro;
I see things and dree things and plan while I'm sleeping,
I wander for ever and dream as I go.

I have stood by Table Mountain
On the Lion at Capetown,
And I watched the sunset fading
From the roads that I marked down,
And I looked out with my brothers
From the heights behind Bombay,
Gazing north and west and eastward,
Over roads I'll tread some day.

For my ways are strange ways and new ways and old ways,
And deep ways and steep ways and high ways and low;
I'm at home and at ease on a track that I know not,
And restless and lost on a road that I know.

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William Blake

Tiriel

1

And Aged Tiriel. stood before the Gates of his beautiful palace
With Myratana. once the Queen of all the western plains
But now his eyes were darkned. & his wife fading in death
They stood before their once delightful palace. & thus the Voice
Of aged Tiriel. arose. that his sons might hear in their gates
Accursed race of Tiriel. behold your father
Come forth & look on her that bore you. come you accursed sons.
In my weak arms. I here have borne your dying mother
Come forth sons of the Curse come forth. see the death of Myratana
His sons ran from their gates. & saw their aged parents stand
And thus the eldest son of Tiriel raisd his mighty voice
Old man unworthy to be calld. the father of Tiriels race
For evry one of those thy wrinkles. each of those grey hairs
Are cruel as death. & as obdurate as the devouring pit
Why should thy sons care for thy curses thou accursed man
Were we not slaves till we rebeld. Who cares for Tiriels curse
His blessing was a cruel curse. His curse may be a blessing
He ceast the aged man raisd up his right hand to the heavens
His left supported Myratana shrinking in pangs of death
The orbs of his large eyes he opend. & thus his voice went forth
Serpents not sons. wreathing around the bones of Tiriel
Ye worms of death feasting upon your aged parents flesh
Listen & hear your mothers groans. No more accursed Sons
She bears. she groans not at the birth of Heuxos or Yuva
These are the groans of death ye serpents These are the groans of death
Nourishd with milk ye serpents. nourishd with mothers tears & cares
Look at my eyes blind as the orbless scull among the stones
Look at my bald head. Hark listen ye serpents listen
What Myratana. What my wife. O Soul O Spirit O fire
What Myratana. art thou dead. Look here ye serpents look
The serpents sprung from her own bowels have draind her dry as this[.]
Curse on your ruthless heads. for I will bury her even here
So saying he began to dig a grave with his aged hands
But Heuxos calld a son of Zazel. to dig their mother a grave
Old cruelty desist & let us dig a grave for thee
Thou hast refusd our charity thou hast refusd our food
Thou hast refusd our clothes our beds our houses for thy dwelling
Chusing to wander like a Son of Zazel in the rocks
Why dost thou curse. is not the curse now come upon your head
Was it not you enslavd the sons of Zazel. & they have cursd
And now you feel it. Dig a grave & let us bury our mother
There take the body. cursed sons. & may the heavens rain wrath
As thick as northern fogs. around your gates. to choke you up
That you may lie as now your mother lies. like dogs. cast out
The stink. of your dead carcases. annoying man & beast
Till your white bones are bleachd with age for a memorial.
No your remembrance shall perish. for when your carcases
Lie stinking on the earth. the buriers shall arise from the east
And. not a bone of all the soils of Tiriel remain
Bury your mother but you cannot bury the curse of Tiriel
He ceast & darkling oer the mountains sought his pathless way

2

He wanderd day & night to him both day & night were dark
The sun he felt but the bright moon was now a useless globe
Oer mountains & thro vales of woe. the blind & aged man
Wanderd till he that leadeth all. led him to the vales of Har
And Har & Heva like two children sat beneath the Oak
Mnetha now aged waited on them. & brought them food & clothing
But they were as the shadow of Har. & as the years forgotten
Playing with flowers. & running after birds they spent the day
And in the night like infants slept delighted with infant dreams
Soon as the blind wanderer enterd the pleasant gardens of Har
They ran weeping like frighted infants for refuge in Mnethas arms
The blind man felt his way & cried peace to these open doors
Let no one fear for poor blind Tiriel hurts none but himself
Tell me O friends where am I now. & in what pleasant place
This is the valley of Har said Mnetha & this the tent of Har
Who art thou poor blind man. that takest the name of Tiriel on thee
Tiriel is king of all the west. who art thou I am Mnetha
And this is Har & Heva. trembling like infants by my side
I know Tiriel is king of the west & there he lives in joy
No matter who I am O Mnetha. if thou hast any food
Give it me. for I cannot stay my journey is far from hence
Then Har said O my mother Mnetha venture not so near him
For he is the king of rotten wood & of the bones of death
He wanders. without eyes. & passes thro thick walls & doors
Thou shalt not smite my mother Mnetha O thou eyeless man
A wanderer. I beg for food. you see I cannot weep
I cast away my staff the kind companion of my travel
And I kneel down that you may see I am a harmless man
He kneeled down & Mnetha said Come Har & Heva rise
He is an innocent old man & hungry with his travel
Then Har arose & laid his hand upon old Tiriels head
God bless thy poor bald pate. God bless. thy hollow winking eyes
God bless thy shriveld beard. God. bless. thy many wrinkled forehead
Thou hast no teeth old man & thus I kiss thy sleek bald head
Heva come kiss his bald head for he will not hurt us Heva
Then Heva came & took old Tiriel in her mothers arms
Bless thy poor eyes old man. & bless the old father of Tiriel
Thou art my Tiriels old father. I know thee thro thy wrinkles
Because thou smellest. like the figtree. thou smellest like ripe figs
How didst thou lose thy eyes old Tiriel. bless thy wrinkled face
Mnetha said come in aged wanderer tell us of thy name
Why shouldest thou conceal thyself from those of thine own flesh
I am not of this region. said Tiriel dissemblingly
I am an aged wanderer once father of a race
Far in the north. but they were wicked & were all destroyd
And I their father sent an outcast. I have told you all
Ask me no more I pray for grief hath seald my precious sight
O Lord said Mnetha how I tremble are there then more people
More human creatures on this earth beside the sons of Har
No more said Tiriel but I remain on all this globe
And I remain an outcast. hast thou any thing to drink
Then Mnetha gave him milk & fruits. & they sat down together

3

They sat & eat & Har & Heva smild on Tiriel
Thou art a very old old man but I am older than thou
How came thine hair to leave thy forehead how came thy face so brown
My hair is very long my beard. doth cover all my breast
God bless thy piteous face. to count the wrinkles in thy face
Would puzzle Mnetha. bless thy face for thou art Tiriel
Tiriel I never saw but once I sat with him & eat
He was as chearful as a prince & gave me entertainment
But long I staid not at his palace for I am forcd to wander
What wilt thou leave us too said Heva thou shalt not leave us too
For we have many sports to shew thee & many songs to sing
And after dinner we will walk into the cage of Har
And thou shalt help us to catch birds. & gather them ripe cherries
Then let thy name be Tiriel & never leave us more
If thou dost go said Har I wish thine eyes may see thy folly
My sons have left me did thine leave thee O twas very cruel
No venerable man said Tiriel ask me not such things
For thou dost make my heart to bleed my sons were not like thine
But worse O never ask me more or I must flee away
Thou shalt not go said Heva till thou hast seen our singing birds
And heard Har sing in the great cage & slept upon our fleeces
Go not for thou art so like Tiriel. that I love thine head
Tho it is wrinkled like the earth parchd with the summer heat
Then Tiriel rose up from the seat & said god bless these tents
My Journey is oer rocks & mountains. not in pleasant vales
I must not sleep nor rest because of madness & dismay
And Mnetha said Thou must not go to wander dark. alone
But dwell with us & let us be to thee instead of eyes
And I will bring thee food old man. till death shall call thee hence
Then Tiriel frownd & answerd. Did I not command you saying
Madness & deep dismay posses[s] the heart of the blind man
The wanderer who seeks the woods leaning upon his staff
Then Mnetha trembling at his frowns led him to the tent door
And gave to him his staff & blest him. he went on his way
But Har & Heva stood & watchd him till he enterd the wood
And then they went & wept to Mnetha. but they soon forgot their tears

4

Over the weary hills the blind man took his lonely way
To him the day & night alike was dark & desolate
But far he had not gone when Ijim from his woods come down
Met him at entrance of the forest in a dark & lonely way
Who art thou Eyeless wretch that thus obstructst the lions path
Ijim shall rend thy feeble joints thou tempter of dark Ijim
Thous hast the form of Tiriel but I know thee well enough
Stand from my path foul fiend is this the las of thy deceits
To be a hypocrite & stand in shape of a blind beggar
The blind man heard his brothers voice & kneeld down on his knee
O brother Ijim if it is thy voice that speaks to me
Smite not thy brother Tiriel tho weary of his life
My sons have smitten me already. and if thou smitest me
The curse that rolls over their heads will rest itself on thine
Tis now seven years since in my palace I beheld thy face
Come thou dark fiend I dare thy cunning know that Ijim scorns
To smite the[e] in the form of helpless age & eyeless policy
Rise up for I discern thee & I dare thy eloquent tongue
Come I will lead thee on thy way & use thee as a scoff
O Brother Ijim thou beholdest wretched Tiriel
Kiss me my brother & then leave me to wander desolate
No artful fiend. but I will lead thee dost thou want to go
Reply not lest I bind thee with the green flags of the brook
Ay now thou art discoverd I will use thee like a slave
When Tiriel heard the words of Ijim he sought not to reply
He knew twas vain for Ijims words were as the voice of Fate
And they went on together over hills thro woody dales
Blind to the pleasures of the sight & deaf to warbling birds
All day they walkd & all the night beneath the pleasant Moon
Westwardly journeying till Tiriel grew weary with his travel
O Ijim I am faint & weary for my knees forbid
To bear me further. urge me not lest I should die with travel
A little rest I crave a little water from a brook
Or I shall soon discover that I am a mortal man
And you will lose your once lovd Tiriel alas how fain I am
Impudent fiend said Ijim hold thy glib & eloquent tongue
Tiriel is a king. & thou the tempter of dark Ijim
Drink of this runing brook. & I will bear thee on my shoulders
He drank & Ijim raisd him up & bore him on his shoulders
All day he bore him & when evening drew her solemn curtain
Enterd the gates of Tiriels palace. & stood & calld aloud
Heuxos come forth I here have brought the fiend that troubles Ijim
Look knowst thou aught of this grey beard. or of these blinded eyes
Heuxos & Lotho ran forth at the sound of Ijims voice
And saw their aged father borne upon his mighty shoulders
Their eloquent tongues were dumb & sweat stood on. their trembling limbs
They knew twas vain to strive with Ijim they bowd & silent stood
What Heuxos call thy father for I mean to sport to night
This is the Hypocritc that sometimes roars a dreadful lion
Then I have rent his limbs & left him rotting in the forest
For birds to eat but I have scarce departed from the place
But like a tyger he would come & so I rent him too
Then like a river be would seek to drown me in his waves
But soon I buffetted the torrent anon like to a cloud
Fraught with the swords of lightning. but I bravd the vengeance too
Then he would creep like a bright serpent till around my neck
While I was Sleeping he would twine I squeezd his poisnous soul
Then like a toad or like a newt. would whisper in my ears
Or like a rock stood in my way. or like a poisnous shrub
At last I caught him in the form of Tiriel blind & old
And so Ill keep him fetch your father fetch forth Myratana
They stood confounded. and Thus Tiriel raisd his silver voice
Serpents not sons why do you stand fetch hither Tiriel
Fetch hither Myratana & delight yourselves with scoffs
For poor blind Tiriel is returnd & this much injurd head
Is ready for your bitter taunts. come forth sons of the curse
Mean time the other sons of Tiriel ran around their father
Confounded at the terrible strength of Ijim they knew twas vain
Both spear & shield were useless & the coat of iron mail
When Ijim stretchd his mighty arm. the arrow from his limbs
Rebounded & the piercing sword broke on his naked flesh
Then is it true Heuxos that thou hast turnd thy aged parent
To be the sport of wintry winds. (said Ijim) is this true
It is a lie & I am like the tree torn by the wind
Thou eyeless fiend. & you dissemblers. Is this Tiriels house
It is as false [as] Matha. & as dark as vacant Orcus
Escape ye fiends for Ijim will not lift his hand against ye
So saying. Ijim gloomy turnd his back & silent sought
The secret forests & all night wanderd in desolate ways

5

And aged Tiriel stood & said where does the thunder sleep
Where doth he hide his terrible head & his swift & fiery daughters
Where do they shroud their fiery wings & the terrors of their hair
Earth thus I stamp thy bosom rouse the earthquake from his den
To raise his dark & burning visage thro the cleaving ground
To thrust these towers with his shoulders. let his fiery dogs
Rise from the center belching flames & roarings. dark smoke
Where art thou Pestilence that bathest in fogs & standing lakes
Rise up thy sluggish limbs. & let the loathsomest of poisons
Drop from thy garments as thou walkest. wrapt in yellow clouds
Here take thy seat. in this wide court. let it be strewn with dead
And sit & smile upon these cursed sons of Tiriel
Thunder & fire & pestilence. here you not Tiriels curse
He ceast the heavy clouds confusd rolld round the lofty towers
Discharging their enormous voices. at the fathers curse
The earth trembled fires belched from the yawning clefts
And when the shaking ceast a fog possest the accursed clime
The cry was great in Tiriels palace his five daughters ran
And caught him by the garments weeping with cries of bitter woe
Aye now you feel the curse you cry. but may all ears be deaf
As Tiriels & all eyes as blind as Tiriels to your woes
May never stars shine on your roofs may never sun nor moon
Visit you but eternal fogs hover around your walls
Hela my youngest daughter you shall lead me from this place
And let the curse fall on the rest & wrap them up together
He ceast & Hela led her father from the noisom place
In haste they fled while all the sons & daughters of Tiriel
Chaind in thick darkness utterd cries of mourning all the night
And in the morning Lo an hundred men in ghastly death
The four daughters stretchd on the marble pavement silent all
falln by the pestilence the rest moped round in guilty fears
And all the children in their beds were cut off in one night
Thirty of Tiriels sons remaind. to wither in the palace
Desolate. Loathed. Dumb Astonishd waiting for black death

6

And Hela led her father thro the silent of the night
Astonishd silent. till the morning beams began to spring
Now Hela I can go with pleasure & dwell with Har & Heva
Now that the curse shall clean devour all those guilty sons
This is the right & ready way I know it by the sound
That our feet make. Remember Hela I have savd thee from death
Then be obedient to thy father for the curse is taken off thee
I dwelt with Myratana five years in the desolate rock
And all that time we waited for the fire to fall from heaven
Or for the torrents of the sea to overwhelm you all
But now my wife is dead & all the time of grace is past
You see the parents curse. Now lead me where I have commanded
O Leagued with evil spirits thou accursed man of sin
True I was born thy slave who askd thee to save me from death—
Twas for thy self thou cruel man because thou wantest eyes
True Hela this is the desert of all those cruel ones
Is Tiriel cruel look. his daughter & his youngest daughter
Laughs at affection glories in rebellion. scoffs at Love:—
I have not eat these two days lead me to Har & Hevas tent
Or I will wrap the[e] up in such a terrible fathers curse
That thou shalt feel worms in thy marrow creeping thro thy bones
Yet thou shalt lead me. Lead me I command to Har & Heva
O cruel O destroyer O consumer. O avenger
To Har & Heva I will lead thee then would that they would curse
Then would they curse as thou hast cursed but they are not like thee
O they are holy. & forgiving filld with loving mercy
Forgetting the offences of their most rebellious children
Or else thou wouldest not have livd to curse thy helpless children
Look on my eyes Hela & see for thou has eyes to see
The tears swell from my stony fountains. wherefore do I weep
Wherefore from my blind orbs art thou not siezd with poisnous stings
Laugh serpent youngest venomous reptile of the flesh of Tiriel
Laugh. for thy father Tiriel shall give the[e] cause to laugh
Unless thou lead me to the tent of Har child of the curse
Silence thy evil tongue thou murderer of thy helpless children
I lead thee to the tent of Har not that I mind thy curse
But that I feel they will curse thee & hang upon thy bones
Fell shaking agonies. & in each wrinkle of that face
Plant worms of death to feast upon the tongue of terrible curses
Hela my daughter listen. thou art the daughter of Tiriel
Thy father calls. Thy father lifts his hand unto the heavens
For thou hast laughed at my tears. & curst thy aged father
Let snakes rise from thy bedded locks & laugh among thy curls
He ceast her dark hair upright stood while snakes infolded round
Her madding brows. her shrieks apalld the soul of Tiriel
What have I done Hela my daughter fearst thou now the curse
Or wherefore dost thou cry Ah wretch to curse thy aged father
Lead me to Har & Heva & the curse of Tiriel
Shall fail. If thou refuse howl in the desolate mountains

7

She howling led him over mountains & thro frighted vales
Till to the caves of Zazel they approachd at even tide
Forth from their caves old Zazel & his sons ran. when they saw
Their tyrant prince blind & his daughter howling & leading him
They laughd & mocked some threw dirt & stones as they passd by
But when Tiriel turnd around & raisd his awful voice
Some fled away but Zazel stood still & thus began
Bald tyrant. wrinkled cunning listen to Zazels chains
Twas thou that chaind thy brother Zazel where are now thine eyes
Shout beautiful daughter of Tiriel. thou singest a sweet song
Where are you going. come & eat some roots & drink some water
Thy crown is bald old man. the sun will dry thy brains away
And thou wilt be as foolish as thy foolish brother Zazel
The blind man heard. & smote his breast & trembling passed on
They threw dirt after them. till to the covert of a wood
The howling maiden led her father where wild beasts resort
Hoping to end her woes. but from her cries the tygers fled
All night they wanderd thro the wood & when the sun arose
They enterd on the mountains of Har at Noon the happy tents
Were frighted by the dismal cries of Hela on the mountains
But Har & Heva slept fearless as babes. on loving breasts
Mnetha awoke she ran & stood at the tent door & saw
The aged wanderer led towards the tents she took her bow
And chose her arrows then advancd to meet the terrible pair

8

And Mnetha hasted & met them at the gate of the lower garden
Stand still or from my bow receive a sharp & winged death
Then Tiriel stood. saying what soft voice threatens such bitter things
Lead me to Har & Heva I am Tiriel King of the west
And Mnetha led them to the tent of Har. and Har & Heva
Ran to the door. when Tiriel felt the ankles of aged Har
He said. O weak mistaken father of a lawless race
Thy laws O Har & Tiriels wisdom end together in a curse
Why is one law given to the lion & th patient Ox
And why men bound beneath the heavens in a reptile form
A worm of sixty winters creeping on the dusky ground
The child springs from the womb. the father ready stands to form
The infant head while the mother idle plays with her dog on her couch
The young bosom is cold for lack of mothers nourishment & milk
Is cut off from the weeping mouth with difficulty & pain
The little lids are lifted & the little nostrils opend
The father forms a whip to rouze the sluggish senses to act
And scourges off all youthful fancies from the newborn man
Then walks the weak infant in sorrow compelld to number footsteps
Upon the sand. &c
And when the drone has reachd his crawling length
Black berries appear that poison all around him. Such was Tiriel
Compelld to pray repugnant & to humble the immortal spirit
Till I am subtil as a serpent in a paradise
Consuming all both flowers & fruits insects & warbling birds
And now my paradise is falln & a drear sandy plain
Returns my thirsty hissings in a curse on thee O Har
Mistaken father of a lawless race my voice is past
He ceast outstretchd at Har & Hevas feet in awful death

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Tower Of A Nation

A tower seizes the thoughts of a traveller,
Once again, tragedy strikes those below;
The traveller invites repeatedly the men on top
To a duel, and this meant war for them.
The tower embarked on a mission
To view the travels of a nation;
The nation has the tours of a whole nation,
Feeling the duels of travellers
But the travel is over now that you request
A seizure.

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Unlawful Business

Unlawful systems result in disaster,
Inside this terror lies a further horror.
Internal stories reside in the head and heart,
To fulfill terror and the letters of the young.
Mighty winds blow for the ache to differ,
Junctions met shall liquify the vile criminals,
For the terror has escaped from entrepreneurs.
These businessmen shine due to old thinking,
But the travel inside is beautiful enough.

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Unfinished Song

Written by dennis deyoung
Lead vocals by dennis deyoung
Where am I going
How do I get there
What should I bring along
Are people kind there
Is peace of mind there
Will I finally belong
Cause you know ships sail their courses
And heroes ride horses
They know where they belong
But I travel in circles
Quickly to nowhere
Singing my unfinished song
Some poets say that
Therell come a day that
Ill find a place for me
Why arent I there yet
Why cant I share yet
Why cant my heart be free
Cause you know ships sail their courses
And heroes ride horses
They know where they belong
But I travel in circles
Quickly to nowhere
Singing my unfinished song

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Imaginative Associations

I can no longer occupy my mind,
With imaginative associations...
To those who choose to distort friendships.
Especially the ones I've known for years...
But have 'never' been inside my home,
To say they paid me a single visit.

But can travel across the country,
To sit with 'their' friends to spend a weekend.

I can no longer defend or excuse,
Someone who abuses and disrespects my time.
To find alibis to make,
As if in the doing of it...
Is perfectly fine.
I've learned those people are not my kind.
Especially if I regard my time as equally important.

Oh...
I can pretend to be fluff and full of that stuff.
But do not believe I am made of it to disregard.
I too can easily dismiss and forget.
I am not a one trick pony.

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Seven Days

I dont care if the rain dont shine
Oh, I dont care if the sun dont fall
You are the one in a million, child
And you knew that I would call
Thoughts of you alone with me
I cant slow them down
But I cant sleep at night
Because youre not around
I cant wait
Seven days is a long time
To be waiting for you girl
I cant wait
Seven days is just too long
To be without you girl
Ive tried every kind of distraction
But nothing will ease this pain
There is only one solution, girl
So why do you make me wait
Got to say I didnt think
That I could read your mind
But I cant sleep at night
cause baby youre on mine
I cant wait
Seven days is a long time
Oh, I miss you girl
I cant wait
Seven days is just too long
I cant wait
Seven days is a long time
To be without you
I cant wait
Seven days is just too long
Just too long

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Long Forgotten Journey

Long Forgotten Journey
By: Adam M. Snow

What am I, that is no longer,
Lost in stormy seas unchanged,
But one weak as I now stronger,
Curse to walk this world deranged,
And I, alone yet not alone,
With but my love to atone.
I despite what I have become,
I condemn myself to death,
Henceforth to why I am numb,
And to why, I give my dying breath.
One to rise yet one to fall,
And on this morrow, I give my all.
Must this be but a journey within oneself,
A journey that was once long forgotten,
So that I may find myself,
For I in earth am rotten,
But I struggle with all devotion,
Blinded by my single emotion,
I wander for greater purpose,
In a world departed from oneself,
I found myself in Jesus,
And through him, I healed myself.
Must this be fate, that I no longer lost,
Twas the blood of lamb that be the cost.

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I Envy The Migratory Birds

I envy the migratory birds their freedom from Country to Country they fly
Their wings take them to distant places they travel thousands of miles by sky
Their life span is a brief span but they travel far and wide
Above the timeless oceans and miles of countryside
They live an average of thirty Seasons in time not a lengthy span
But they see more of the World than the most trvelled woman or man
I envy them their freedom they fly thousands of miles every year
From the coldness of the Artic to the warm Southern Hemisphere
They are the feathered wanderers they fly from pole to pole
The travel bug is in them till age of them takes toll
In the cool chill of the morning above the southern shore
They fly northwards towards their Artic breeding grounds twelve thousand miles or more
From the warm Southern Hemisphere they are born to migrate
They fly over many time zones and time for them doesn't wait.

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Trekking Biblical Lands

I trek the Biblical valleys and hills
Seeking salvation in desiccated dust
Ambling along arid ancient routes
Holy signs being the holes in my boots.

I look for the light of that shaken foil
But it is a shine of the shimmering sun
The scriptures shift like sand under feet
And exhausted I fall in the desert heat.

In the land of Sodom and Gomorrah
Where angels came and vice got its Lot
Under a shady Jujube we come to halt
I eat my lunch with a pinch of salt

The Promised Land is the path of pilgrims
But I travel on the tracks of an ass
I climb not the tree of life or to paradise
But to the Exodus of a cola and ice.

In harsh parched garden of my mind
The vision I see is the cool pool of Eden
There the naked Adam and Eve embrace
Their souls entwine and naked hearts race

So fly my darling to the unseeable horizon
Blow between the bones of prophets
For here on earth and firmaments above
The only grace of the gift of God is Love.

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The Palmer

'O, open the door, some pity to show,
Keen blows the northern wind!
The glen is white with the drifted snow,
And the path is hard to find.

'No outlaw seeks your castle gate,
From chasing the King's deer,
Though even an outlaw's wretched state
Might claim compassion here.

'A weary Palmer, worn and weak,
I wander for my sin;
O, open, for our Lady's sake!
A pilgrim's blessing win!

'I'll give you pardons from the Pope,
And reliques from o'er the sea,-
Or if for these you will not ope,
Yet open for charity.

'The hare is crouching in her form,
The hard beside the hind;
An aged man, amid the storm,
No shelter can I find.

'You hear the Ettrick's sullen roar,
Dark, deep, and strong is he,
And I must ford the Ettrick o'er,
Unless you pity me.

'The iron gate is bolted hard,
At which I knock in vain;
The owner's heart is closer barr'd,
Who hears me thus complain.

'Farewell, farewell! and Mary grant,
When old and frail you be,
You never may the shelter want,
That's now denied to me.'

The Ranger on his couch lay warm,
And heard him plead in vain;
But oft amid December's storm,
He'll hear that voice again:

For lo, when through the vapours dank,
Morn shone on Ettrick fair,
A corpse amid the alders rank,
The Palmer welter'd there.

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Transport.

I thought I would write about, how we get about,

The various kinds of transport we see, when we are out;

It could be trains, or cars, buses, and trucks we see too,

So let me write a poem, maybe of interest to some of you.


Firstly I will write about, planes we see in the sky,

Small little 2 seaters, some may use to parachute, they'll try;

Next, is the helicopter, look like an insect flying so high,

And there are jets, of all kinds, but you can't see them fly.


Next. Is the trains, with large engines travelling along,

Then there's the small trains fixing the rails where they belong;

And what about the commuter trains, who take people everywhere,

Some in Sydney two levels, and people need to use the stair.


Now I come to trucks, all sizes and shapes and color,

Rubbish, milk, food trucks, then the giant coal mine ones with an odor;

There's the postal, and the fire truck, just too many to name,

But can't forget those council trucks, taking animals, that's a shame.


So what about buses and taxis, who come in handy,

When there is no trains to use, that's from city to dandy;

There are the usual cabs, and the maxi taxi,

So what a ride from anywhere in the coaches, but not for me.


The best sort of transport for disabled like me,

Is the motorised chair or scooter for us to get about,

But to travel to anywhere buses leave us out.

And so I'm glad there are scooters, and that makes me happy.

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Dont Let The Sun Go Down On Me

I cant light no more of your darkness
All my pictures seem to fade to black and white
Im growing tired and time stands still before me
Frozen here on the ladder of my life
Too late to save myself from falling
I took a chance to change your way of life
But you misread my meaning when I met you
Closed the door and left me blinded by the light
Oh, oh
Dont let the sun go down on me
Although I searched myself
Its always someone else I see
Im just another fragment of your life
To wander free
But losing everything
Is like the sun going down on me
Sun going down on me
I cant find all the right romantic lines
But see me once and see the way I feel
Dont discard me just because you think I mean you harm
But these cuts I have for any love
And love to help them heal, help them heal
Dont let the sun go down on me
Although I searched myself
Its always someone else I see
Im just another fragment of your life
To wander free, free
But losing everything is like the sun going down on me
(dont let the sun go down on me)
Although I searched myself
Its always someone else that I see
Im just another fragment of your life
To wander free, free
But losing everything
Is like the sun going down on me
Sun going down on me
Dont let it go down on me
Dont let the sun go down on me
Dont let the sun go down on me
Dontcha let the sun go down
Go down on me, no no no
Dont let the sun
Dont let the sun go down
Dont let the sun go down on me
Dont let the sun go down
Dont let it go down, no no no no
No no no
Dont let the sun go down on me

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A Simple Matter

My pencil is on the floor
Just what am I to do
I'll not get it with my feet
As the other children do

The test has already started
I'm in danger of falling behind
If only a fellow student
Would return it in ample time

My palms are now sweating
My frustrations beginning to show
No talking is permitted
Thus my pencil lies below

If my eyes were to wander
For a helping hand to find
Would my teacher be believing
Or would questions of cheating be defined

As I squirm anxiously in my seat
There's sweat forming on my brow
I wantingly glance beneath me
Believing I'll retrieve it somehow

A commotion I could make
But others I would distract
Or an illness I could fake
With a slim chance the test retake

I glance up at the clock
With feelings of dismal shock
Wishing in my predicament
My teacher soon takes stock

I hesitatingly raise my hand
As a tear trickles down my cheek
Hoping and praying all along
That my teacher's eyes and mine do meet

But much to my dismay
She's still looking another way
With hopes of finishing diminishing
I'll need find yet another way

I swallow a gulp of air
In hopes of clearing my throat
In need of my teacher's attention
To questions with answers yet unwrote

In fear of promoting a commotion
I begrudgingly bury my head
Any hope of a successful solution
Are lost in my feelings of dread

With a tap on my shoulder from behind me
And a tug on my chair's brake release
My teacher's whispering voice reminds me
My wheelchair's brake to release

With a smile and a nod to assure me
To put my worst expectations to rest
My teacher returns me my pencil
And on I continue my test

(copyrighted 1993-2007)

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Quick To Be Thoughtless

People who believe themselves to be influential,
And dismiss the activities of others quick.
Assuming what has been done,
Will not affect where they sit...
Or come not to experience the wrath of one,
Victimized by their wickedness...
Only need one time to be shown,
Who's boot fits the foot that kicks them out the door.

Just one time does it take,
To clarify this kind of mind with an introduction to reality.

And to their surprise,
The one who does this...
Was the first to have offered a welcoming,
With a warm assistance given.
But...
Who knew that the one self obsessed,
Would perceive the one expressing hospitality...
To be the one picked as dispensable?

You know...
Someone believed trying to impress.
And someone who one best is thought...
Can be done without.

So disturbing are the minds of those who are...
Quick to be thoughtless and fast to raise a nose.
And...
Too late,
Come the lessons for some to learn...
Like those who believed they are chosen,
When applying a respect that should not be selective.
And they 'assume' someone near,
Can do without a bit of political correctness.
Based upon their 'perspective'.
And undenied and unstoppable 'arrogantness'.

'Excuse me,
Your Highassness...
I don't believe we've met.
But if you expect to stay around here...
Your way of doing things,
Will not be done around me.
Is that clear?

I am not so charitable when offended.
Or dismissed by stupidity.
But I do love the process of giving warnings.
Some I know wouldn't bother!
How fortunate you are 'they' are not 'me'.'

~What are you saying? ~

'I'm quick with the use of my feet.
And you don't want to see either foot in action.
Since that would create unnecessary distraction.
But eventually you will get the point I make.
I've grown increasingly patient.'

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Dead And Gone

In years from now when I am dead and gone
Will people read the words that I had wrote
If they do will they agree with what they read
And if so truly, understand the feelings I had spoke.
Will they feel the pain and suffering that I felt
In the many days of my own life
Maybe they will etch my feelings inside their soul
And If so, I wonder for me if they will cry.
I wonder if anyone will go into a deep thought
After reading the words that I had spoke
And then will they think and understand that feeling too
While inside their soul or heart a memory I will had awoke.
Maybe they will be with me in those lonesome nights
When my soul and I felt so very alone
When I couldn't sleep so I had to write
While my soul stayed stationary, but my mind it did roam.
And will they feel the pain that I did feel
With every line that I suffered as I did write
Will they shed a tear that my lover never shed for me
While she was always in my heart and in my sight.
And when they finish my book and close it shut
Will they reflect my feelings as they walk away
Will they say they know the pain that I have felt
As they too had felt it in their very own days.
Will they cry the tears that was never cried for me
As they go searching for my last resting place
To give the sympathy they might say I deserve
While trying to visualize my soul through my face.
If they look and find and then walk unto my grave
I wander for me if i will receive long forgotten grieving
Telling me how sad and the pity they hold for me
After reading my words, maybe they will start believing.
And maybe they will walk to the graves of the others
The ones who did me wrong and who sealed my fate
Who made me the poet whom I had to become
Will they tell them their souls, and living they do hate.
So as I finish writing with these last few thoughts
I hope forever my words and feelings will continue on
As I know I am not alone and my pain is not fastened to me
But really who will know, until I am dead and gone.

Randy L. McClave

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Wild Places

Music and Words by Duncan Browne
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A prima donna, slipped into her leather
But she was restless
She knew it in her heart of hearts
She said "Tonight youd better pull yourself together,
Because tonight Im gonna pull myself apart!"
Out on the streets
Everyone is searchin for a thrill
But shes the only one thats out there
really dressed to kill
And she said "Listen to me, its not a tragedy,
This time Im gettin thorough and now theres
something you can do for me!
And oh, oh, take me to the Wild Places
And let me show you what the night is for
Cos I dont wanna dream
I wanna set the wheels in motion
I dont wanna see your eyes across a dancin floor"
TV angel with her eyes full of smoke
Gazin at the hero, hes so mucho macho
He shrugs, he says "This must be some kind on joke."
As she pulls on his cigarette and loves him to distraction.
But she cries, "I dont wanna feel like a machine
Im not the only one who wants to feel the in-between
Thats why Im deep into this state of fascination
Thats why Ive lost the art of conversation.
And oh, oh, take me to the Wild Places
If you wanna see whats really in my soul
But youd better keep your eye on where my pretty face is
Cos in the heat of the moment I just lose control
In the heat of the moment, I just lose control!"
Eyes out of focus, the sharpening of blades
The sad tension, reek of patchouli
Even the jokers are dealin in spades
Its one dimension, its all so pass
Just then a voice said,
"Honey, its too late to change your mind"
Her face tightened
I could see shed found a new design
and she said, "Listen to me, its just a fantasy
This time Im comin through
and now theres something you can do for me...
Theres something you can do for me!
And oh, oh, take me to the Wild Places
And let me show you what the night is for
I dont wanna dream, I wanna set the wheels in motion
Cos in the heat of the moment I just lose control
In the heat of the moment I just lose control.

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Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 XII. Yarrow Unvisited

FROM Stirling castle we had seen
The mazy Forth unravelled;
Had trod the banks of Clyde, and Tay,
And with the Tweed had travelled;
And when we came to Clovenford,
Then said my 'winsome Marrow,'
'Whate'er betide, we'll turn aside,
And see the Braes of Yarrow.'

'Let Yarrow folk, 'frae' Selkirk town,
Who have been buying, selling,
Go back to Yarrow, 'tis their own;
Each maiden to her dwelling!
On Yarrow's banks let herons feed,
Hares couch, and rabbits burrow!
But we will downward with the Tweed,
Nor turn aside to Yarrow.

'There's Galla Water, Leader Haughs,
Both lying right before us;
And Dryborough, where with chiming Tweed
The lintwhites sing in chorus;
There's pleasant Tiviot-dale, a land
Made blithe with plough and harrow:
Why throw away a needful day
To go in search of Yarrow?

'What's Yarrow but a river bare,
That glides the dark hills under?
There are a thousand such elsewhere
As worthy of your wonder.'
--Strange words they seemed of slight and scorn
My True-love sighed for sorrow;
And looked me in the face, to think
I thus could speak of Yarrow!

'Oh! green,' said I, 'are Yarrow's holms,
And sweet is Yarrow flowing!
Fair hangs the apple frae the rock,
But we will leave it growing.
O'er hilly path, and open Strath,
We'll wander Scotland thorough;
But, though so near, we will not turn
Into the dale of Yarrow.

'Let beeves and home-bred kine partake
The sweets of Burn-mill meadow;
The swan on still St. Mary's Lake
Float double, swan and shadow!
We will not see them; will not go,
To-day, nor yet to-morrow,
Enough if in our hearts we know
There's such a place as Yarrow.

'Be Yarrow stream unseen, unknown!
It must, or we shall rue it:
We have a vision of our own;
Ah! why should we undo it?
The treasured dreams of times long past,
We'll keep them, winsome Marrow!
For when we're there, although 'tis fair,
'Twill be another Yarrow!

'If Care with freezing years should come,
And wandering seem but folly,--
Should we be loth to stir from home,
And yet be melancholy;
Should life be dull, and spirits low,
'Twill soothe us in our sorrow,
That earth has something yet to show,
The bonny holms of Yarrow!'

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Yarrow Unvisited

. From Stirling castle we had seen
The mazy Forth unravelled;
Had trod the banks of Clyde, and Tay,
And with the Tweed had travelled;
And when we came to Clovenford,
Then said my "winsome Marrow ,"
"Whate'er betide, we'll turn aside,
And see the Braes of Yarrow."
"Let Yarrow folk, frae Selkirk town,
Who have been buying, selling,
Go back to Yarrow, 'tis their own;
Each maiden to her dwelling!
On Yarrow's banks let her herons feed,
Hares couch, and rabbits burrow!
But we will downward with the Tweed
Nor turn aside to Yarrow.

"There's Galla Water, Leader Haughs,
Both lying right before us;
And Dryborough, where with chiming Tweed
The lintwhites sing in chorus;
There's pleasant Tiviot-dale, a land
Made blithe with plough and harrow:
Why throw away a needful day
To go in search of Yarrow?

"What's Yarrow but a river bare,
That glides the dark hills under?
There are a thousand such elsewhere
As worthy of your wonder."
--Strange words they seemed of slight and scorn;
My True-love sighed for sorrow;
And looked me in the face, to think
I thus could speak of Yarrow!

"Oh! green," said I, "are Yarrow's holms,
And sweet is Yarrow flowing!
Fair hangs the apple frae the rock,
But we will leave it growing.
O'er hilly path, and open Strath,
We'll wander Scotland thorough;
But, though so near, we will not turn
Into the dale of Yarrow.

"Let beeves and home-bred kine partake
The sweets of Burn-mill meadow,
The swan on still St. Mary's Lake
Float double, swan and shadow!
We will not see them; will not go,
To-day, nor yet to-morrow;
Enough if in our hearts we know
There's such a place as Yarrow.

"Be Yarrow stream unseen, unknown!
It must, or we shall rue it:
We have a vision of our own;
Ah! why should we undo it?
The treasured dreams of times long past,
We'll keep them, winsome Marrow!
For when we'er there, although 'tis fair,
'Twill be another Yarrow!

"If Care with freezing years should come,
And wandering seem but folly,--
Should we be loth to stir from home,
And yet be melancholy;
Should life be dull, and spirits low,
'Twill soothe us in our sorrow,
That earth has something yet to show,
The bonny holms of Yarrow!"

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