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All doors open to courtesy.

quote by Thomas Fuller
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Only Way To Control Things

The only way to control things is with an open hand.
Water on rock
a fist can't do anything to stop the rain
that keeps washing its bloody knuckles
by kissing the raw red buds
of the pain-killing poppies clean.
Anger grows ashamed of itself
in the presence of unopposable compassion
just as planets are humbled by their atmospheres.
The soft supple things of life insist
and the hard brittle ones comply.
Bullies are the broken toys of wimps.
Power limps.
But space is an open hand.
Mass may shape it
but it teaches matter how to move
just as the sky converts its openness
into a cloud and a bird
or the silence nurtures
the embryo of a blue word
in the empty womb of the dark mother
like the echo of something that can't be said.

The only way to control things is with an open hand.
Not a posture of giving.
Not a posture of receiving.
Not a posture of greeting or farewell.
Not hanging on or letting go
but the single bridge they both make
when they're both at peace with the flow.
It's not the branch it's not the trunk
it's not the root it's not the fruit
but the open handedness of its leaves
that is a tree's consummate passion.
Isis tattoos her star on their palms
like sailors and sails
to keep them from drowning
and into the valleys of their open hands
that lie at the foot of their crook-backed mountains
the aloof stars risk the intimacy of fireflies
and fate flows down like tributaries into the mindstream
as life roots its wildflowers on both shores
as if there were no sides to the flowing
of our binary lifelines.

The only way to control things is with an open hand.
You cannot bind the knower to the knowing
as if time had to know where eternity was going
before anything could change.
X marks the spot where all maps are born

[...] Read more

poem by Patrick White
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Open Your Box

Open your box,
Open your box,
Open your trousers,
Open your thighs,
Open your legs,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open, open, open, open,
Open your legs,
Open your flies,
Open your ears,
Open your nose,
Open your mouth,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open.
Open your cold feet,
Open, open,
Open, open, open, let's open, let's open the cities.
Open the cities,
Open, open, open the world,
Open, let's open the world.
Open, open, oooh -
Open, open, ooh!

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Open Your Box

Open your box,
Open your box,
Open your trousers,
Open your thighs,
Open your legs,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open, open, open, open,
Open your legs,
Open your flies,
Open your ears,
Open your nose,
Open your mouth,
Open, open, open, open, oooh.
Open.
Open your cold feet,
Open, open,
Open, open, open, let's open, let's open the cities.
Open the cities,
Open, open, open the world,
Open, let's open the world.
Open, open, oooh -
Open, open, ooh!

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pearl

Pearl of delight that a prince doth please
To grace in gold enclosed so clear,
I vow that from over orient seas
Never proved I any in price her peer.
So round, so radiant ranged by these,
So fine, so smooth did her sides appear
That ever in judging gems that please
Her only alone I deemed as dear.
Alas! I lost her in garden near:
Through grass to the ground from me it shot;
I pine now oppressed by love-wound drear
For that pearl, mine own, without a spot.

2
Since in that spot it sped from me,
I have looked and longed for that precious thing
That me once was wont from woe to free,
To uplift my lot and healing bring,
But my heart doth hurt now cruelly,
My breast with burning torment sting.
Yet in secret hour came soft to me
The sweetest song I e'er heard sing;
Yea, many a thought in mind did spring
To think that her radiance in clay should rot.
O mould! Thou marrest a lovely thing,
My pearl, mine own, without a spot.

3
In that spot must needs be spices spread
Where away such wealth to waste hath run;
Blossoms pale and blue and red
There shimmer shining in the sun;
No flower nor fruit their hue may shed
Where it down into darkling earth was done,
For all grass must grow from grains that are dead,
No wheat would else to barn be won.
From good all good is ever begun,
And fail so fair a seed could not,
So that sprang and sprouted spices none
From that precious pearl without a spot.

4
That spot whereof I speak I found
When I entered in that garden green,
As August's season high came round
When corn is cut with sickles keen.
There, where that pearl rolled down, a mound
With herbs was shadowed fair and sheen,
With gillyflower, ginger, and gromwell crowned,
And peonies powdered all between.

[...] Read more

poem by Anonymous Olde English
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One Way To Go

Youve got to lift yourself up so high
Youve got to lift yourself up so high
You cant see the ground
You cant see the ground
You dont hear a sound
You dont hear a sound
Youve got to move it up so slow
Youve got to move it up so slow
You see it all
You see it all
Youll probably fall
Youll probably fall
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Id rather die than see you fly
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Than see you try
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
I dont care what I find
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
I dont know what Ill find
I dont care what I find
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
Youve got to move me up
I dont know what Ill find
So high it hurts
So high it burns
But if you let me down
Youve got to move me up
Dont bother to call
So high it hurts
Just let me fall
So high it burns
Id rather die than see you fly
But if you let me down
Than see you try
Dont bother to call
Id rather die than see you fly
Just let me fall
Than see you try
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
Id rather die than see you fly
I dont know what Ill find
Than see you try

[...] Read more

song performed by Verve
Added by Lucian Velea
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One Way To Go

Youve got to lift yourself up so high
Youve got to lift yourself up so high
You cant see the ground
You cant see the ground
You dont hear a sound
You dont hear a sound
Youve got to move it up so slow
Youve got to move it up so slow
You see it all
You see it all
Youll probably fall
Youll probably fall
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Id rather die than see you fly
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Than see you try
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
I dont care what I find
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
I dont know what Ill find
I dont care what I find
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
Youve got to move me up
I dont know what Ill find
So high it hurts
So high it burns
But if you let me down
Youve got to move me up
Dont bother to call
So high it hurts
Just let me fall
So high it burns
Id rather die than see you fly
But if you let me down
Than see you try
Dont bother to call
Id rather die than see you fly
Just let me fall
Than see you try
Id rather die than see you fly
Than see you try
Its like pushing locked doors to get in your mind
Id rather die than see you fly
I dont know what Ill find
Than see you try

[...] Read more

song performed by Verve
Added by Lucian Velea
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Idylls of the King: The Last Tournament (excerpt)

Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood
Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round,
At Camelot, high above the yellowing woods,
Danced like a wither'd leaf before the hall.
And toward him from the hall, with harp in hand,
And from the crown thereof a carcanet
Of ruby swaying to and fro, the prize
Of Tristram in the jousts of yesterday,
Came Tristram, saying, "Why skip ye so, Sir Fool?"

For Arthur and Sir Lancelot riding once
Far down beneath a winding wall of rock
Heard a child wail. A stump of oak half-dead.
From roots like some black coil of carven snakes,
Clutch'd at the crag, and started thro' mid air
Bearing an eagle's nest: and thro' the tree
Rush'd ever a rainy wind, and thro' the wind
Pierced ever a child's cry: and crag and tree
Scaling, Sir Lancelot from the perilous nest,
This ruby necklace thrice around her neck,
And all unscarr'd from beak or talon, brought
A maiden babe; which Arthur pitying took,
Then gave it to his Queen to rear: the Queen
But coldly acquiescing, in her white arms
Received, and after loved it tenderly,
And named it Nestling; so forgot herself
A moment, and her cares; till that young life
Being smitten in mid heaven with mortal cold
Past from her; and in time the carcanet
Vext her with plaintive memories of the child:
So she, delivering it to Arthur, said,
"Take thou the jewels of this dead innocence,
And make them, an thou wilt, a tourney-prize."

To whom the King, "Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear."

"Would rather you had let them fall," she cried,
"Plunge and be lost--ill-fated as they were,
A bitterness to me!--ye look amazed,
Not knowing they were lost as soon as given--
Slid from my hands, when I was leaning out
Above the river--that unhappy child
Past in her barge: but rosier luck will go
With these rich jewels, seeing that they came
Not from the skeleton of a brother-slayer,

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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The Last Tournament

Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood
Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round,
At Camelot, high above the yellowing woods,
Danced like a withered leaf before the hall.
And toward him from the hall, with harp in hand,
And from the crown thereof a carcanet
Of ruby swaying to and fro, the prize
Of Tristram in the jousts of yesterday,
Came Tristram, saying, `Why skip ye so, Sir Fool?'

For Arthur and Sir Lancelot riding once
Far down beneath a winding wall of rock
Heard a child wail. A stump of oak half-dead,
From roots like some black coil of carven snakes,
Clutched at the crag, and started through mid air
Bearing an eagle's nest: and through the tree
Rushed ever a rainy wind, and through the wind
Pierced ever a child's cry: and crag and tree
Scaling, Sir Lancelot from the perilous nest,
This ruby necklace thrice around her neck,
And all unscarred from beak or talon, brought
A maiden babe; which Arthur pitying took,
Then gave it to his Queen to rear: the Queen
But coldly acquiescing, in her white arms
Received, and after loved it tenderly,
And named it Nestling; so forgot herself
A moment, and her cares; till that young life
Being smitten in mid heaven with mortal cold
Past from her; and in time the carcanet
Vext her with plaintive memories of the child:
So she, delivering it to Arthur, said,
`Take thou the jewels of this dead innocence,
And make them, an thou wilt, a tourney-prize.'

To whom the King, `Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear.'

`Would rather you had let them fall,' she cried,
`Plunge and be lost-ill-fated as they were,
A bitterness to me!-ye look amazed,
Not knowing they were lost as soon as given-
Slid from my hands, when I was leaning out
Above the river-that unhappy child
Past in her barge: but rosier luck will go
With these rich jewels, seeing that they came
Not from the skeleton of a brother-slayer,

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Lancelot And Elaine

Elaine the fair, Elaine the loveable,
Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat,
High in her chamber up a tower to the east
Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot;
Which first she placed where the morning's earliest ray
Might strike it, and awake her with the gleam;
Then fearing rust or soilure fashioned for it
A case of silk, and braided thereupon
All the devices blazoned on the shield
In their own tinct, and added, of her wit,
A border fantasy of branch and flower,
And yellow-throated nestling in the nest.
Nor rested thus content, but day by day,
Leaving her household and good father, climbed
That eastern tower, and entering barred her door,
Stript off the case, and read the naked shield,
Now guessed a hidden meaning in his arms,
Now made a pretty history to herself
Of every dint a sword had beaten in it,
And every scratch a lance had made upon it,
Conjecturing when and where: this cut is fresh;
That ten years back; this dealt him at Caerlyle;
That at Caerleon; this at Camelot:
And ah God's mercy, what a stroke was there!
And here a thrust that might have killed, but God
Broke the strong lance, and rolled his enemy down,
And saved him: so she lived in fantasy.

How came the lily maid by that good shield
Of Lancelot, she that knew not even his name?
He left it with her, when he rode to tilt
For the great diamond in the diamond jousts,
Which Arthur had ordained, and by that name
Had named them, since a diamond was the prize.

For Arthur, long before they crowned him King,
Roving the trackless realms of Lyonnesse,
Had found a glen, gray boulder and black tarn.
A horror lived about the tarn, and clave
Like its own mists to all the mountain side:
For here two brothers, one a king, had met
And fought together; but their names were lost;
And each had slain his brother at a blow;
And down they fell and made the glen abhorred:
And there they lay till all their bones were bleached,
And lichened into colour with the crags:
And he, that once was king, had on a crown
Of diamonds, one in front, and four aside.
And Arthur came, and labouring up the pass,
All in a misty moonshine, unawares

[...] Read more

poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Saturday

I'm good to go
And I'm going nowhere fast
It could be worse
It could be taking you there with me
I'm good to go
But it looks like I'm still on my own
I'm good to go
For something golden
Though the motions I've been going through have failed
And I'm coasting on potential towards the wall
At a 100 miles an hour
When I say
Two more weeks
My foot is in the door (yeah)
I can't sleep
In the wake of Saturday (Saturday)
Saturday
When these open doors were open-ended
Saturday
When these open doors were open-ended
Pete and I attacked
And lost the story
Oh we promised them decisions
The mass of youthful innocence
And I read about the afterlife
But I never really lived more than an hour (more than an hour)
When I say
Two more weeks
My foot is in the door (yeah)
I can't sleep
In the wake of Saturday (Saturday)
Saturday
When these open doors were open-ended
Saturday
When these open doors were open-ended
And I read about the afterlife
But I never really lived
And I read about the afterlife
But I never really lived
Two more weeks
My foot is in the door
Me and Pete
In the wake of Saturday
Saturday
When these open doors were open-ended
Saturday
When these open doors were open-ended
Saturday
Saturday

song performed by Fall Out Boy
Added by Lucian Velea
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Packt Like Sardines In A Crushd Tin Box

there are bomb? doors and there are revolving doors doors on the rudders of big ships and there are revolving doors there are doors that open by themselves there are sliding doors and there are secret doors there are doors that lock and doors that don't there are doors that let you in and out but never open but there are trap doors that you can't come back from

song performed by Radiohead
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Courtesy

Of Courtesy, it is much less
Than Courage of Heart or Holiness,
Yet in my Walks it seems to me
That the Grace of God is in Courtesy.

On Monks I did in Storrington fall,
They took me straight into their Hall;
I saw Three Pictures on a wall,
And Courtesy was in them all.

The first the Annunciation;
The second the Visitation;
The third the Consolation,
Of God that was Our Lady's Son.

The first was of St. Gabriel;
On Wings a-flame from Heaven he fell;
And as he went upon one knee
He shone with Heavenly Courtesy.

Our Lady out of Nazareth rode -
It was Her month of heavy load;
Yet was her face both great and kind,
For Courtesy was in Her Mind.

The third it was our Little Lord,
Whom all the Kings in arms adored;
He was so small you could not see
His large intent of Courtesy.

Our Lord, that was Our Lady's Son,
Go bless you, People, one by one;
My Rhyme is written, my work is done.

poem by Hilaire Belloc
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Hall Of Doors

You walk through the hall of doors
With life in sight with death in mind
You watch people open their doors
And you think of how the doors and fate bind

You watch waiting to see your exit
As you see others turn down their path to their end
You know that the paths can not change
You know even with time fate shall not mend

Down the hall you walk
Doors lining each side
Every person holds the key to one of those locks
All around you people stride

Doors open
As people come to their door mats
You walk by doors just hoping,
hoping the next isn't yours, isn't your mat

You watch parents and children leaving eachothers sides
You see love being torn, hate being sewn
as the doors open wide
Some people leave together, some alone

You wait to see your door, your fate
You watch to see which door your key fits
You watch to see if your heart is with love or hate
You watch untill you find the mat at which you shall sit

You walk through the hall of doors
With life in sight, death in mind
You watch as people open their doors
You wait to see which door your fate lays behind.

poem by Bethany Maxwell
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Pull Pulk Revolving Doors

There are barn doors
And there are revolving doors

Doors on the rudders of big ships
We are revolving doors

There are doors that open by themselves
There are sliding doors
And there are secret doors

There are doors that lock
And doors that don't

There are doors that let you in
And out
But never open
But they are trapdoors
That you can't come back from

song performed by Radiohead
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pull / Pulk Revolving Doors

There are barn doors
And there are revolving doors
Doors on the rudders of big ships
And there are revolving doors
There are doors that open by themselves
There are sliding doors
And there are secret doors
There are doors that lock
And doors that dont
There are doors that let you in
And out
But never open
But there are trapdoors
That you cant come back from

song performed by Radiohead
Added by Lucian Velea
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Two Doors Down

Chorus:
Two doors down
Theyre laughing and drinkin, and having a party
Two doors down
Theyre not aware that Im around
Cause here I am
Crying my heart out, feelin sorry while
Theyre having a party two doors down
I think Ill dry these useless tears
And get myself together
I think Ill wonder down the hall
And have a look around
cause I cant stay inside
This lonely room and cry forever
I think I really rather join em
Two door down, yeah
Repeat chorus
cause here I am
No longer cryin an feelin sorry
Were having a party just two doors down
I cant believe Im standin here
Dry-eyed, all smiles and talkin
Making conversation with the new love I have found
I ask him if hed like to be alone and we start walkin
Down the hall to my place waitin two doors down, yeah
Repeat chorus
cause here I am
Feelin everything but sorry
Were having our own party two doors down
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Two doors down
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Two doors down
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Two doors down
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Two doors down, oh
Repeat chorus
cause here we am
Feelin everything but sorry
Were havin our own party
Two doors down, yeah
Fade:
Repeat chorus

song performed by Dolly Parton
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Orlando Furioso Canto 19

ARGUMENT
Medoro, by Angelica's quaint hand,
Is healed, and weds, and bears her to Catay.
At length Marphisa, with the chosen band,
After long suffering, makes Laiazzi's bay.
Guido the savage, bondsman in the land,
Which impious women rule with civil sway,
With Marphisa strives in single fight,
And lodges her and hers at full of night.

I
By whom he is beloved can no one know,
Who on the top of Fortune's wheel is seated;
Since he, by true and faithless friends, with show
Of equal faith, in glad estate is greeted.
But, should felicity be changed to woe,
The flattering multitude is turned and fleeted!
While he who loves his master from his heart,
Even after death performs his faithful part.

II
Were the heart seen as is the outward cheer,
He who at court is held in sovereign grace,
And he that to his lord is little dear,
With parts reversed, would fill each other's place;
The humble man the greater would appear,
And he, now first, be hindmost in the race.
But be Medoro's faithful story said,
The youth who loved his lord, alive or dead.

III
The closest path, amid the forest gray,
To save himself, pursued the youth forlorn;
But all his schemes were marred by the delay
Of that sore weight upon his shoulders born.
The place he knew not, and mistook the way,
And hid himself again in sheltering thorn.
Secure and distant was his mate, that through
The greenwood shade with lighter shoulders flew.

IV
So far was Cloridan advanced before,
He heard the boy no longer in the wind;
But when he marked the absence of Medore,
It seemed as if his heart was left behind.
'Ah! how was I so negligent,' (the Moor
Exclaimed) 'so far beside myself, and blind,
That I, Medoro, should without thee fare,
Nor know when I deserted thee or where?'

[...] Read more

poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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Open Wide These Prison Doors

Written by: neil diamond and stewart harris
Tied by love to you, but I was tied too strong
Still Im afraid of knowing what leaving means
I know I lived for you, and all I tried to do
You were the keeper of my dreams
Open wide these prison doors
Take these chains from around my heart
Make believe that Im no more
And dont mind when I depart
Need to find another place
Where love is not just tossed away
If you really care for me
Open wide these prison doors
And set me free
You were always caring, always warm and kind
But that was long ago, when love was blind
And I dont want to hurt you, the way that Ive been hurt
But if I stay Ill lose my mind
Open wide these prison doors
Take these chains from around my heart
Make believe that Im no more
And dont mind when I depart
Need to find another place
Where love is not just tossed away
If you really care for me
Open wide these prison doors
And set me free
Time is always moving
While were here standing still
I love you even though Im leaving
And maybe I always will
But, open wide these prison doors
Take these chains from around my heart
Make believe that Im no more
And dont mind when I depart
Need to find another place
Where love is not just tossed away
And if you really care for me
Open wide these prison doors
And set me free
If you really care for me
Open wide these prison doors
And set me free
Set me free, yeah
Come on and set me free
Set me free

song performed by Neil Diamond
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Open Arms

If love is what you want
Baby here I am
If tenderness is what you need
Ive got that to give
If you need some affection
Baby these are open arms
Open arms open arms open arms open arms
You come hem youve had a hard day
Every door you tried to open
Was closing in your face
Im right here Ill be right here
Ill embrace you
Ill be open with my heart
Ill let you in
Ill be open with my thoughts
Ill be your best friend
If you need some attention
Baby these are open arms
Open arms open arms open arms open arms
Every corner you turn
Trouble come your way
But when you get home
Ill try to be there
And Ill embrace you
These are
These are
These are
Open arms
If time is what you need
Baby Ill stop the clocks
If youre looking for something
Maybe Ive got what you want
If theres one thing to remember
Dont forget that these are open arms
Open arms open arms open arms open arms
These are
These are
These are
Open arms

song performed by Tracy Chapman
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It's Hard to Grow

Little do they know,
Each season has an ending.
With one clean sweep...
What was no longer is to be!

It's hard to grow,
And go through doors that have to close.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.

But they've been stopped...
Hitting bottom from the top.
Dropped and blocked.

Little do they know,
Each season has an ending...
Swoosh
With one clean sweep...
What was no longer is to be!
Oh Lawd it's hard to grow,
And go through doors that have to clossssuup.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.

Little do they know,
Each season has an ending.
With one clean sweep...
What was no longer is to be!

It's hard to grow,
And go through doors that have to close.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.
But for them...
They want these doors stayed open.
But for them...
These doors will not be opened again!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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