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Winston Churchill

We occasionally stumble over the truth but most of us pick ourselves up and hurry off as if nothing had happened.

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Winston Churchill

Men occasionally stumble over the truth, but most of them pick themselves up and hurry off as if nothing had happened.

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Winston Churchill

Man will occasionally stumble over the truth, but most of the time he will pick himself up and continue on.

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Winston Churchill

Man will occasionally stumble over the truth, but usually manages to pick himself up, walk over or around it, and carry on.

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Valeriu Butulescu

We do stumble over the truth, but much more rarely we do break our heads against it.

aphorism by from Immensity of the Point, translated by Eva A. ZiemReport problemRelated quotes
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Homer

The Odyssey: Book 7

Thus, then, did Ulysses wait and pray; but the girl drove on to
the town. When she reached her father's house she drew up at the
gateway, and her brothers- comely as the gods- gathered round her,
took the mules out of the waggon, and carried the clothes into the
house, while she went to her own room, where an old servant,
Eurymedusa of Apeira, lit the fire for her. This old woman had been
brought by sea from Apeira, and had been chosen as a prize for
Alcinous because he was king over the Phaecians, and the people obeyed
him as though he were a god. She had been nurse to Nausicaa, and had
now lit the fire for her, and brought her supper for her into her
own room.
Presently Ulysses got up to go towards the town; and Minerva shed
a thick mist all round him to hide him in case any of the proud
Phaecians who met him should be rude to him, or ask him who he was.
Then, as he was just entering the town, she came towards him in the
likeness of a little girl carrying a pitcher. She stood right in front
of him, and Ulysses said:
"My dear, will you be so kind as to show me the house of king
Alcinous? I am an unfortunate foreigner in distress, and do not know
one in your town and country."
Then Minerva said, "Yes, father stranger, I will show you the
house you want, for Alcinous lives quite close to my own father. I
will go before you and show the way, but say not a word as you go, and
do not look at any man, nor ask him questions; for the people here
cannot abide strangers, and do not like men who come from some other
place. They are a sea-faring folk, and sail the seas by the grace of
Neptune in ships that glide along like thought, or as a bird in the
air."
On this she led the way, and Ulysses followed in her steps; but
not one of the Phaecians could see him as he passed through the city
in the midst of them; for the great goddess Minerva in her good will
towards him had hidden him in a thick cloud of darkness. He admired
their harbours, ships, places of assembly, and the lofty walls of
the city, which, with the palisade on top of them, were very striking,
and when they reached the king's house Minerva said:
"This is the house, father stranger, which you would have me show
you. You will find a number of great people sitting at table, but do
not be afraid; go straight in, for the bolder a man is the more likely
he is to carry his point, even though he is a stranger. First find the
queen. Her name is Arete, and she comes of the same family as her
husband Alcinous. They both descend originally from Neptune, who was
father to Nausithous by Periboea, a woman of great beauty. Periboea
was the youngest daughter of Eurymedon, who at one time reigned over
the giants, but he ruined his ill-fated people and lost his own life
to boot.
"Neptune, however, lay with his daughter, and she had a son by
him, the great Nausithous, who reigned over the Phaecians.
Nausithous had two sons Rhexenor and Alcinous; Apollo killed the first
of them while he was still a bridegroom and without male issue; but he
left a daughter Arete, whom Alcinous married, and honours as no
other woman is honoured of all those that keep house along with
their husbands.
"Thus she both was, and still is, respected beyond measure by her
children, by Alcinous himself, and by the whole people, who look
upon her as a goddess, and greet her whenever she goes about the city,
for she is a thoroughly good woman both in head and heart, and when
any women are friends of hers, she will help their husbands also to
settle their disputes. If you can gain her good will, you may have
every hope of seeing your friends again, and getting safely back to
your home and country."
Then Minerva left Scheria and went away over the sea. She went to
Marathon and to the spacious streets of Athens, where she entered
the abode of Erechtheus; but Ulysses went on to the house of Alcinous,
and he pondered much as he paused a while before reaching the
threshold of bronze, for the splendour of the palace was like that
of the sun or moon. The walls on either side were of bronze from end
to end, and the cornice was of blue enamel. The doors were gold, and
hung on pillars of silver that rose from a floor of bronze, while
the lintel was silver and the hook of the door was of gold.
On either side there stood gold and silver mastiffs which Vulcan,
with his consummate skill, had fashioned expressly to keep watch
over the palace of king Alcinous; so they were immortal and could
never grow old. Seats were ranged all along the wall, here and there
from one end to the other, with coverings of fine woven work which the
women of the house had made. Here the chief persons of the Phaecians
used to sit and eat and drink, for there was abundance at all seasons;
and there were golden figures of young men with lighted torches in
their hands, raised on pedestals, to give light by night to those
who were at table. There are fifty maid servants in the house, some of
whom are always grinding rich yellow grain at the mill, while others
work at the loom, or sit and spin, and their shuttles go, backwards
and forwards like the fluttering of aspen leaves, while the linen is
so closely woven that it will turn oil. As the Phaecians are the
best sailors in the world, so their women excel all others in weaving,
for Minerva has taught them all manner of useful arts, and they are
very intelligent.
Outside the gate of the outer court there is a large garden of about
four acres with a wall all round it. It is full of beautiful trees-
pears, pomegranates, and the most delicious apples. There are luscious
figs also, and olives in full growth. The fruits never rot nor fail
all the year round, neither winter nor summer, for the air is so
soft that a new crop ripens before the old has dropped. Pear grows
on pear, apple on apple, and fig on fig, and so also with the
grapes, for there is an excellent vineyard: on the level ground of a
part of this, the grapes are being made into raisins; in another
part they are being gathered; some are being trodden in the wine tubs,
others further on have shed their blossom and are beginning to show
fruit, others again are just changing colour. In the furthest part
of the ground there are beautifully arranged beds of flowers that
are in bloom all the year round. Two streams go through it, the one
turned in ducts throughout the whole garden, while the other is
carried under the ground of the outer court to the house itself, and
the town's people draw water from it. Such, then, were the
splendours with which the gods had endowed the house of king Alcinous.
So here Ulysses stood for a while and looked about him, but when
he had looked long enough he crossed the threshold and went within the
precincts of the house. There he found all the chief people among
the Phaecians making their drink-offerings to Mercury, which they
always did the last thing before going away for the night. He went
straight through the court, still hidden by the cloak of darkness in
which Minerva had enveloped him, till he reached Arete and King
Alcinous; then he laid his hands upon the knees of the queen, and at
that moment the miraculous darkness fell away from him and he became
visible. Every one was speechless with surprise at seeing a man there,
but Ulysses began at once with his petition.
"Queen Arete," he exclaimed, "daughter of great Rhexenor, in my
distress I humbly pray you, as also your husband and these your guests
(whom may heaven prosper with long life and happiness, and may they
leave their possessions to their children, and all the honours
conferred upon them by the state) to help me home to my own country as
soon as possible; for I have been long in trouble and away from my
friends."
Then he sat down on the hearth among the ashes and they all held
their peace, till presently the old hero Echeneus, who was an
excellent speaker and an elder among the Phaeacians, plainly and in
all honesty addressed them thus:
"Alcinous," said he, "it is not creditable to you that a stranger
should be seen sitting among the ashes of your hearth; every one is
waiting to hear what you are about to say; tell him, then, to rise and
take a seat on a stool inlaid with silver, and bid your servants mix
some wine and water that we may make a drink-offering to Jove the lord
of thunder, who takes all well-disposed suppliants under his
protection; and let the housekeeper give him some supper, of
whatever there may be in the house."
When Alcinous heard this he took Ulysses by the hand, raised him
from the hearth, and bade him take the seat of Laodamas, who had
been sitting beside him, and was his favourite son. A maid servant
then brought him water in a beautiful golden ewer and poured it into a
silver basin for him to wash his hands, and she drew a clean table
beside him; an upper servant brought him bread and offered him many
good things of what there was in the house, and Ulysses ate and drank.
Then Alcinous said to one of the servants, "Pontonous, mix a cup of
wine and hand it round that we may make drink-offerings to Jove the
lord of thunder, who is the protector of all well-disposed
suppliants."
Pontonous then mixed wine and water, and handed it round after
giving every man his drink-offering. When they had made their
offerings, and had drunk each as much as he was minded, Alcinous said:
"Aldermen and town councillors of the Phaeacians, hear my words. You
have had your supper, so now go home to bed. To-morrow morning I shall
invite a still larger number of aldermen, and will give a
sacrificial banquet in honour of our guest; we can then discuss the
question of his escort, and consider how we may at once send him
back rejoicing to his own country without trouble or inconvenience
to himself, no matter how distant it may be. We must see that he comes
to no harm while on his homeward journey, but when he is once at
home he will have to take the luck he was born with for better or
worse like other people. It is possible, however, that the stranger is
one of the immortals who has come down from heaven to visit us; but in
this case the gods are departing from their usual practice, for
hitherto they have made themselves perfectly clear to us when we
have been offering them hecatombs. They come and sit at our feasts
just like one of our selves, and if any solitary wayfarer happens to
stumble upon some one or other of them, they affect no concealment,
for we are as near of kin to the gods as the Cyclopes and the savage
giants are."
Then Ulysses said: "Pray, Alcinous, do not take any such notion into
your head. I have nothing of the immortal about me, neither in body
nor mind, and most resemble those among you who are the most
afflicted. Indeed, were I to tell you all that heaven has seen fit
to lay upon me, you would say that I was still worse off than they
are. Nevertheless, let me sup in spite of sorrow, for an empty stomach
is a very importunate thing, and thrusts itself on a man's notice no
matter how dire is his distress. I am in great trouble, yet it insists
that I shall eat and drink, bids me lay aside all memory of my sorrows
and dwell only on the due replenishing of itself. As for yourselves,
do as you propose, and at break of day set about helping me to get
home. I shall be content to die if I may first once more behold my
property, my bondsmen, and all the greatness of my house."
Thus did he speak. Every one approved his saying, and agreed that he
should have his escort inasmuch as he had spoken reasonably. Then when
they had made their drink-offerings, and had drunk each as much as
he was minded they went home to bed every man in his own abode,
leaving Ulysses in the cloister with Arete and Alcinous while the
servants were taking the things away after supper. Arete was the first
to speak, for she recognized the shirt, cloak, and good clothes that
Ulysses was wearing, as the work of herself and of her maids; so she
said, "Stranger, before we go any further, there is a question I
should like to ask you. Who, and whence are you, and who gave you
those clothes? Did you not say you had come here from beyond the sea?"
And Ulysses answered, "It would be a long story Madam, were I to
relate in full the tale of my misfortunes, for the hand of heaven
has been laid heavy upon me; but as regards your question, there is an
island far away in the sea which is called 'the Ogygian.' Here
dwells the cunning and powerful goddess Calypso, daughter of Atlas.
She lives by herself far from all neighbours human or divine. Fortune,
however, me to her hearth all desolate and alone, for Jove struck my
ship with his thunderbolts, and broke it up in mid-ocean. My brave
comrades were drowned every man of them, but I stuck to the keel and
was carried hither and thither for the space of nine days, till at
last during the darkness of the tenth night the gods brought me to the
Ogygian island where the great goddess Calypso lives. She took me in
and treated me with the utmost kindness; indeed she wanted to make
me immortal that I might never grow old, but she could not persuade me
to let her do so.
"I stayed with Calypso seven years straight on end, and watered
the good clothes she gave me with my tears during the whole time;
but at last when the eighth year came round she bade me depart of
her own free will, either because Jove had told her she must, or
because she had changed her mind. She sent me from her island on a
raft, which she provisioned with abundance of bread and wine. Moreover
she gave me good stout clothing, and sent me a wind that blew both
warm and fair. Days seven and ten did I sail over the sea, and on
the eighteenth I caught sight of the first outlines of the mountains
upon your coast- and glad indeed was I to set eyes upon them.
Nevertheless there was still much trouble in store for me, for at this
point Neptune would let me go no further, and raised a great storm
against me; the sea was so terribly high that I could no longer keep
to my raft, which went to pieces under the fury of the gale, and I had
to swim for it, till wind and current brought me to your shores.
"There I tried to land, but could not, for it was a bad place and
the waves dashed me against the rocks, so I again took to the sea
and swam on till I came to a river that seemed the most likely landing
place, for there were no rocks and it was sheltered from the wind.
Here, then, I got out of the water and gathered my senses together
again. Night was coming on, so I left the river, and went into a
thicket, where I covered myself all over with leaves, and presently
heaven sent me off into a very deep sleep. Sick and sorry as I was I
slept among the leaves all night, and through the next day till
afternoon, when I woke as the sun was westering, and saw your
daughter's maid servants playing upon the beach, and your daughter
among them looking like a goddess. I besought her aid, and she
proved to be of an excellent disposition, much more so than could be
expected from so young a person- for young people are apt to be
thoughtless. She gave me plenty of bread and wine, and when she had
had me washed in the river she also gave me the clothes in which you
see me. Now, therefore, though it has pained me to do so, I have
told you the whole truth."
Then Alcinous said, "Stranger, it was very wrong of my daughter
not to bring you on at once to my house along with the maids, seeing
that she was the first person whose aid you asked."
"Pray do not scold her," replied Ulysses; "she is not to blame.
She did tell me to follow along with the maids, but I was ashamed
and afraid, for I thought you might perhaps be displeased if you saw
me. Every human being is sometimes a little suspicious and irritable."
"Stranger," replied Alcinous, "I am not the kind of man to get angry
about nothing; it is always better to be reasonable; but by Father
Jove, Minerva, and Apollo, now that I see what kind of person you are,
and how much you think as I do, I wish you would stay here, marry my
daughter, and become my son-in-law. If you will stay I will give you a
house and an estate, but no one (heaven forbid) shall keep you here
against your own wish, and that you may be sure of this I will
attend to-morrow to the matter of your escort. You can sleep during
the whole voyage if you like, and the men shall sail you over smooth
waters either to your own home, or wherever you please, even though it
be a long way further off than Euboea, which those of my people who
saw it when they took yellow-haired Rhadamanthus to see Tityus the son
of Gaia, tell me is the furthest of any place- and yet they did the
whole voyage in a single day without distressing themselves, and
came back again afterwards. You will thus see how much my ships
excel all others, and what magnificent oarsmen my sailors are."
Then was Ulysses glad and prayed aloud saying, "Father Jove, grant
that Alcinous may do all as he has said, for so he will win an
imperishable name among mankind, and at the same time I shall return
to my country."
Thus did they converse. Then Arete told her maids to set a bed in
the room that was in the gatehouse, and make it with good red rugs,
and to spread coverlets on the top of them with woollen cloaks for
Ulysses to wear. The maids thereon went out with torches in their
hands, and when they had made the bed they came up to Ulysses and
said, "Rise, sir stranger, and come with us for your bed is ready,"
and glad indeed was he to go to his rest.
So Ulysses slept in a bed placed in a room over the echoing gateway;
but Alcinous lay in the inner part of the house, with the queen his
wife by his side.

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Winston Churchill

Most people stumble over the truth, now and then, but they usually manage to pick themselves up and go on, anyway.

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Patrick White

Ten Hours A Day Painting In The Half Wild Fields

Ten hours a day painting in the half wild fields
at Long Bay, eleven miles outside of Westport
for four and a half years without
seeing another human for months in the winter
except when we drove into Perth every six weeks
for smokes and groceries.
A quarter mile of treacherous driveway,
mud, ice, freezing rain, you had to accelerate
just right, and steadily, to keep the car
from sliding back down the hill.
Sometimes two or three attempts
like a long distance Olympic ski jumper
and you standing at the top of the ninety metre hill
so I didn’t kill you going backwards,
one hand on a shovel
planted in a small grey pyramid of rock salt
like a sign of readiness and ownership
that always made me think
this is what an hourglass must look like
when it finally hits bottom.
Four miles of treacherous dirt road
one car wide
six deaths down and counting
and the schoolbus always coming our way
just as we were
without being able to brake or pass.
And then twenty perilous miles,
a hot knife of anxiety in the back of my neck,
riding the rat snake of black ice
through a gauntlet of frozen road kill
on the back of Sunset Boulevard all the way to Perth.
Coffee at Tinker’s or the Red Fox,
groceries at Loeb’s,
dog kibble and wet food for the cats at Berry’s,
you’d buy something wholly intriguing to an Aquarius
and I’d buy another tool at Canadian Tire
without even knowing what is was for
but always intended to find out and use
because you never know
when you’re living on a farm
twenty-five miles outside of town
when someone who’s come over
to give you hand fixing something,
usually a car,
is going to ask you for something
everything else in the world
depends upon you having
at that one crucial moment
even if you don’t know what it’s for.
Country makes you feel
there’s a practical purpose
to being a useless poet with tools.
Months of slushy quick mud roads
where no one could get in or out
without chains on a backhoe and even then,
long soporific embering nights
when the drifts were up over the windowsills
and there was a human glow on the snow
that quietly defied all death threats from the weather
and we were all, just you and I,
and the cats and the dogs
as Willie P. would say
all safe inside and warm somewhere.
You were a witch of a cook
that would put most survivalists to shame
if they could have seen what you could do
with a bit of stew, cardboard and cornmeal.
Comes of being raised on welfare
in Westmount I suppose
and looking like a cross
between Nefertiti and Sophia Loren
with a nickname like Black Savage
who collected feathers, and rocks, and bones
and whispered to the albino skulls of small mammals
as if they and you were happy about something certain
I wasn’t privy to
nor ever thought to ask.
For nine years I’d felt
I’d fallen into paradise by accident
and kept my mouth shut lest
anybody discovered I was there by mistake.
Long walks with the sun going down over the treeline
of the island in the bay
with a long caravan of seven dogs and eleven cats
because we couldn’t bear to give them away
and they all had a big abandoned barn to sleep in
when the weather wasn’t out to kill anything that lived.
Gumboots and walking sticks in the spring
that would make me alternately feel
like Merlin or Moses
though that’s where the comparison ends,
because we’d only get as far as the fire pits
on the shore of Bob’s Lake
without ever intending to cross it
before turning back
without having killed anyone
except for the occasional groundhog
the dogs would seize by the neck ferociously,
snap it like a castanet with one shake of their head
and carry on as if nothing had happened
out of the ordinary in a dog’s life,
because we were already living in the promised land.
Years of living with a woman from Montreal
called Black Savage
who had the courage of gunpowder
the instincts of a queen cobra
and the finesse of a white-tailed doe.
And knew how to paint and write and make love as well.
And to be out in the fields with you
on those warm August afternoons
hazy with dragonflies down by the beaver pond
where you painted the dead trees
as if they’d all had the same hysterectomy you had
at twenty-three, shapely denuded torsos
missing their arms like the Venus de Milo,
and I’d try to catch the inflections of light on the water
so totally absorbed in the scene
the beavers decided despite appearances
I wasn’t there
and went on working behind me.
And once a fox sat outside its den all day
over my left shoulder
with its forelegs crossed
wondering what this curious, harmless human
was doing that so intrigued the both of us.
We painted hundreds and hundreds of landscapes
in the depths of our perfect isolation
working for hours beside each other
without ever saying a word
our brushes hadn’t already said for us
as if they had rooted themselves in the scene
and begun to sprout leaves.
But if I were able to say something to you now
looking back on it through
this aerially blue perspective of time
I’d say we weren’t painting landscapes
but the topology of bliss
when you know it’s been there
a long, long time
like the prophetic skulls
of the grey fieldstones
and the wild grapevines that covered them.
Now all that long black hair of yours
I hear is as grey as a winter dawn.
I left the farm a week after you
put all the cats and dogs down
to make me feel what it was like
to be savaged in paradise
and thoroughly abandoned
for being untrue to your paranoia
though we were joined at the hip for years
and never felt crowded
except when other people were around.
You were beautiful, you were talented,
you were as spooky as deadly nightshade,
as loyal as a female consigliere,
as true as the wing of a hawk
to the same bird I was,
and we rode the wild thermals
of our hearts and bodies and mind and art
like two halves of the same helical chromosome
and even when we painted together
until nightfall and and stars
and way off on the hill
the tiny windows of our farmhouse
filled with the welcoming warmth
of the light we’d left on to guide us back
out of the woods to our place in the distance
and a crockpot of stew that tasted
like all that was good about the human heart,
even standing at our separate easels
among the New England asters
and English ox-eyed daisies
trying to keep the powder-blue damselflies
out of the paint without hurting them
or working them into the sky on our canvases,
like a pre-mixed shade
of value nine celestial cerulean blue,
even standing in the crows-nest of our easels
like the rigging of separate ships
that could have easily passed in the night
but didn’t
even then,
your brush going one way
and mine the other
I never thought for a second
we weren’t rowing in the same lifeboat
toward the same lunar shore.
And you must know this before
either one of us dies
and the ear and the mouth
lose their chance to say and hear the truth,
and I say it like a bird
into the mesmeric eclipses of your Medusan eyes
without turning into unfeeling stone
like some albino rogue moon
that’s got a grudge against the darkness,
I say it in humility and gratitude
and deep reverence I seldom accord the gods
when I think of you
as this dark lighthouse of a lover
painting with me in those beautiful fields back then,
and what a witch-magnet among women you were
whenever you were among them
like a black rose at a coven of apostate doves,
your dark energy as ferocious and Mongolian as mine,
and how fastidiously noble and compassionate
you were about most things,
listening to anyone with rapt attention for hours
who wanted to convince of the uniqueness of their pain
and you’d suggest pithy strategies
like the snakey oracle of Delphi
and quite rightly they’d fall in love with you.
But not once did I ever doubt your fidelity
mostly because no one had walked out on me
after a month of marriage
and emptied my bank account and apartment
without a word of why
while I was at art school
watching my wedding ring turn green
before I came home to nothing
to find out my marriage was just a cheap hustle.
And I said to myself if it had happened to me
I might even be more paranoid about my next lover,
than you were of me from the very start,
and I loved you and it hurt
to see that massive black hole
in the center of your galactic heart.
And I know how spaced-out I am
so there’s never any lack of room for more
in this expanding universe
and it’s so rare that I feel crowded,
I said stand at my side twenty-four seven
and whatever I do you do with me
and you’ll never need fear
because you have certainty of sight
that I could possibly be untrue to you
and in time, things will heal
and you’ll be able to trust again.
And by that I thought to remove
that arrowhead of pain from your life.
When you love someone the way I loved you,
what else are you supposed to do
but make sure everytime you see one
there’s one snake less under the rosebush
that could bite either one of us
when we least expected it?
But your paranoia was hydra-headed
and as fast as I cut the head of one snake off
another grew back as venomous.
I could walk on beer when I was drinking.
I can walk on stars when I want.
I never managed water
though I still don’t think I tried hard enough,
but walking on snakes without getting bit
was a different order of ordeal
and I could tell from the way I was going numb
from the number of hits I took,
and how my heart was turning into dry ice
so I could go straight from a solid state
everytime you accused me out of the blue
of things that never even remotely crossed my mind
like planets in transit across the black sun
of a completely alien solar system
to the one you and I were living in
to a ghost
without all the intervening tears
that don’t make a damn bit of difference
to reptiles without lachrymal glands.
And one day without warning
after nine years of being constant companions,
compatible familiars in every other way but one,
you just walked out,
forgiving me for something I hadn’t done,
and I let you go
like that raccoon we raised
and returned to the wild
though it tore our hearts out to do so.
Four years later, the first time
I talked to you since you left
I asked you over the phone,
after we’d both gone on to other lovers,
you walking out on yours
because they didn’t like your art,
and mine leaving me like waterbirds
as the leaves fell from the trees in the fall,
I asked you from the bottom of my fathomless heart
if you still believed I’d been untrue to you
and you said, yes,
and that’s about the saddest thing
I’ve ever heard in my life,
and said quietly out of the wounded silence
I really hope you learn differently one day
and hung up somehow knowing
I could never talk to you again about anything.
You weren’t Eve.
And there was never a Lilith in that garden.
Our innocence was home-made.
Death was already a raccoon skull when we got there,
and if you want to blame the snakes
you might as well blame the fireflies.
You were betrayed. Badly. It’s true
but by someone else not us.
You were Black Savage,
the Aquarian beast-mistress
who could speak with such tenderness
to skulls and dead trees,
the minutiae of death
that lined your windowsill
with the bones of hummingbirds and killdeer
beside tubes of viridian green
and alizarin crimson paint
and that serious violet
only you could manage to mix
in a small jar with a dead honeybee on top.
Thank-you for nine great years
of painting beside you in those fields.
I haven’t enjoyed the like of them since.
Nor ever met anyone quite like you.
Hope you’ve learned to keep better track
of what snake belongs to what garden
so you don’t hurt the innocent ones.
I don’t blame you.
Given how deeply you were hurt.
Who else could you have been?
Personally I would have betrayed the betrayer
but he was long gone
and all that was left you could do I suppose
to take the black thorn out of your heart
was to succumb to betraying the betrayed.
And if I ever meet your ex-husband
I promise you I’ll do it for you.
And send you the skull
to put on your windowsill
between the fossil of the moon
and your red-tailed hawk feather.

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Emily Dickinson

Tell All The Truth

Tell all the truth but tell it slant,
Success in circuit lies,
Too bright for our infirm delight
The truth's superb surprise;

As lightning to the children eased
With explanation kind,
The truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind.

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Dodging The Truth

So maybe I was
Desperate for the truth
But you had to of known that

I tried to get you
To tell me many of time
It's all I ever wanted you to do

But all you can do is
Evade and Dodge
Like this is some kind of
Dodge ball game

I guess deep down
I knew you would never
Admit to doing it
And I know why
You won't either

And That there is no
Way that we can
Ever re-establish anything

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The Truth

Nothing but the truth
I stand by the truth
The truth is my portion
And my salvation
So do not believe in illusion
Face reality and act positively
For how you feel
Is different from what is going on
Blaspheming and evil
Is the act of ignorant of the truth
But surely there is a reward
For goodness and evil
No matter the circumstances
The truth will prevail
Although the truthful path
Is difficult to tread
But take heed and lead
For the truth is the light
That guides our way
They reflect on what we say
So they say
We are the truth

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The Truth

I know there are things that can't come true
But I put that out of my mind.
I refuse to accept the impossible
I would rather I stay blind
to the truth.

I know that my ramblings with so many words
Is a substitute for concrete thinking.
But every phrase I've ever written
Has stopped me from ever drinking
in the truth.

I know my thinking is sometimes crazy
And I wonder if I'm sane?
Do others live in a fairytale
Or do they only remain
with the truth?

I know I live for the sunshine
and to listen to how the birds sing.
But every time I hear their songs
I curse everything about spring
for the truth is I'm lonely.

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The Truth of it

I know there are things that can't come true
But I put that out of my mind.
I refuse to accept the impossible
I would rather I stay blind
to the truth.

I know that my ramblings with so many words
Is a substitute for concrete thinking.
But every phrase I've ever written
Has stopped me from ever drinking
in the truth.

I know my thinking is sometimes crazy
And I wonder if I'm sane?
Do others live in a fairytale
Or do they only remain
with the truth?

I know I live for the sunshine
and to listen to how the birds sing.
But every time I hear their songs
I curse everything about spring
for the truth is I'm lonely.

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The truth won't set you free

We all try to Sugar coat the truth but you and I know there can't be no juice in a pimple
people will say'The truth will set you free'
see the truth to be a dude and it stares you in the eye, watching you throw heavy loads of lie to its face without a form of grace
Like a man in pain, it's gonna fly into rage,
irritated at this height of disgrace, it could spit one into a cage, letting it rain till water sinks into the liar's brain
'The truth will set you free' yet people say again
The letters still remain unchanged and now I am starting to feel people just use this quote in vain
Not the truth and not the constitution is gonna set us free
look at judges....don't you think they slam the hammer of justice too often
If d truth would set us free then the word jail would have never came
we all can choose to tell the truth but then what will the cops have to investigate
cos whether you confess or you are being confessed, telling the truth, or choosing to lie will partially make your social life die.

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Bluebirds Over The Mountain

Bluebirds over the mountain
Seagulls over the sea-ea-ea
Bluebirds over the mountain
Bring my baby to me
A boy and a girl they once found love
To each it seemed like heaven above
He looked into her eyes and said
Ooo wee baby youre so good for my head
Bluebirds over the mountain
Seagulls over the sea-ea-ea
Bluebirds over the mountain
Bring my baby to me
Oh everyone in every land
Please give me a helping hand
If you see her all alone
Oh tell my baby wont you please come home?
Bluebirds over the mountain
Seagulls over the sea-ea-ea
Bluebirds over the mountain
Bring my baby to me
Oh bring my baby back
I dont know why shes been so long
But all I know is that shes gone
Oh bring my baby back to me
Well Im in pain cant you see
A boy and a girl they once found love
To each it seemed like heaven above
I guess thats why we fell in love
And now shes gone and all I have to say is
Bluebirds over the mountain
Seagulls over the sea yeah
Bluebirds over the mountain
Bring my baby to me
Bring my baby
Oooo baby
Oooo oooo oooo oooo

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Over The Wall

Verse 1:
We can play it safe
For awhile
If we can
But will that make me a better girl,
You a better man?
I trust myself
And thats all I can do
Dont you see the world is alive and
Right in front of you...
Chorus:
Over the wall
There is a new world waiting
Over the wall
I want to find out something more
Over the wall
I cannot wait to find it
Over the wall is where I want to be
Come take my hand and
We can be free
Verse 2:
Fear of the unknown
Is unhealthy to the soul
But it eats you up inside
If you dont have a higher goal
You see no light
On the dark side of the sun
What do you think about when
Everyday is over and done?
Chorus
Bridge:
And when the darkness comes
Youll still have a long road
In front of you
And when you cry out
All the world will be around (world will be around)
It wont be easy
But it will have greater rewards
Mountains and valleys
Are better than nothing at all...
Chorus
Chorus
Over the wall
There is a new world - oh...
Over the wall
I want to find out something more
Over the wall
I cannot wait to find it
Over the wall is where I want to be
Come take my hand
Dontcha know it, we can be free
Over the wall
Over the wall
Over the wall
I cannot wait to find it...

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Facing the Truth of Your Lies

Back in September of 2004 -
A couple of months after
My short stay in the hospital
For severe depression -
I tried to contact you to see
If you still missed me,
As you rudely told me
To leave you alone,
That you were married
And had moved, had your
Last name changed to
Your new husband's
And were expecting
A brand new child.

Two years later I learn
The truth through none
Other than that fake 'husband'
Of yours, who posted a message
In one of his hosting forums
Back in 2005 when he was 19
And you were 28.

And so I face the truth, that
You wanted me to face
So much - the truth that
You were always lying
To me and to others
About who you really are -
An insecure and confused
Woman with two children
Without a real father.

No, you were never married
To that geek, who's so good
With computers, who
Drives around fixing other
People's technical problems,
Putting 8-9 hours each day
And not going to school,
To support you and your
Two kids, who are not even
His in a biological or
Legal sense.

For you two were 'living in sin'
Together, as he puts it,
Being 'disowned' by the
Majority of his family
And his manipulative
Mother, who was using
Him to get back at his father.

Well, it looks like he traded
His mother for a new one,
Who's just as manipulative
And conniving.

And I wonder what you do
When he's not around?
Do you stay at home and
Play a fake 'good wife'?
Or do you explore new men
And new options?

Oh yes,
He calls you his fiancée now -
After two years of living together -
But knowing you, I wonder
If you really want to get
Married and miss a chance
That something better comes
Along?

Well, I wish you luck in
Your decision, but I
Just want to say that
I loved you even if I was
A fool to believe you.


March 30,2006

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No, not the moon, but simple dial-plate

No, not the moon, but simple dial-plate
Is lightning me, and ‘tis my nasty fate,
That lights of stars I feel as light internal!

And loftiness of Batyushkov I hate:
'What time is it?' - he had been asked there
late --
And he had answered with curiosity 'Eternal!'

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The Truth Shall Set You Free? ? ?

The truth shall set you free?
Well I guess it did for me,
I am free of a happy family,
My father in prison for two, maybe three,
Good behavior? I guess we'll see.

The truth shall set you free?
Of what? Everything you are to me?
All that your child desires to be?
The outter shell that we all see,
With the truth shall cease to be.

The truth shall set you free?
Free of wonder and imagery,
What about what I want to see?
Why would you even say that to me?
Why can't the truth be what I want it to be?

The truth shall set you free?
In no way is that true to me,
For I will always be free,
Anyway I want to be,
And that is the only thing that's true to me.

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Over The Shoulder

Big size, small size
Any size, round and round
We need, we take
Burn it all to the ground
Started over and learned to walk
We teach you how to talk
Please try and understand
Were helping all mankind
We use them a while then its over the shoulder
We use them a while then its over the shoulder
We are serious
O, serious
Dollar here, dollar there
Dollars flying everywhere
Were only here to please
Stop the killing, trust me
Well only be a while
Big while, big big smile
We use them a while then its over the shoulder
We use them a while then its over the shoulder
We have in our hands
Every woman and every man
Things are gonna go far
Down a real big fast car
And what you see is what you get
Keep em hungry, you bet
You need security
To keep you from the enemy
We use them a while then its over the shoulder
We use them a while then its over the shoulder

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The Universe

Many blindly believe and trust in what is not the truth,
But nature itself is full of love and it is crowned with beauty!
So be yourself and learn from the truth always.
Listen to your heart and return to yourself,
This universe if full of love for us to share;
And, try and learn the best from others too.
Love makes the world go round so,
Listen to your heartbeat;
For, in the beginning was the world made for us to live in.

Why hate your neighbour?
You've got love to give;
And whatever you do,
Do it for the love.
You've got love t give to the universe,
You've got a message to share with us all;
So, why hate your neighbour?

With love, we have the green vegetation;
With love, we were made out of dust;
With love, the skies are blue and white to see;
With love, the oceans are blue;
With love, we were made male and female;
This is the sweet love to touch all mankind but,
Many are very blind to the truth.

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