Worrisome
I hurry and worry falsely and correctly,
To burden no soul, interested directly?
poem by Naveed Akram
Added by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Microphone Fiend
Yo, I was a fiend before I became a teen
I melted microphone instead of cones of ice cream
Music orientated so when hip-hop was originated
Fitted like pieces of puzzles, complicated
Shot grabbed the mic and try to say, yes yall!
They tried to take it, and say that Im too small
Cool, cause I dont get upset
I kick a hole in the speaker, pull the plug, then I jet
Back to the lab ...without a mic to grab
So then I add all the rhymes I had
One after the another one, then I make another one
To dis the opposite then ask if the brothers done
I get a craving like I fiend for nicotine
But I dont need a cigarette, know what I mean?
Im raging, ripping up the stage and
Dont it sound amazing cause every rhyme is made and
Thought of, cuz its sort of...an addiction,
Magnatized by the mixing
E-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
An e-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
E-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
An e-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
But back to the problem, I gotta habit,
You cant solve it, you silly rabbit
The prescription is a hypertone thats thorough when
I fiend for a microphone like heroin
Soon as the bass kicks, I need a fix
Gimme a stage and a mic and a mix
And Ill put you in a mood or is it a state of
Unawareness? beware, its the reanamator!
A menace to a microphone, a lethal weapon
An assasinator, if the people aint stepping
You see a part of me that you never seen
When Im fiending for a microphone.
Cause I take it to the maximum, I cant relax see, im
Hype as a hyperchrondriac cause the rap be one
Hell of a antidote, something you cant smoke
More than dope, youre trying to move away but you cant, youre broke
More than cracked up, you should have backed up
For those who act up need to be more than smacked up
E-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
An e-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
An e-f-f-e-c-t
A smooth operator operating correctly.
[...] Read more
song performed by Rage Against The Machine
Added by Lucian Velea
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County Fair
This time each year in our hometown
The county fair comes our way
Where the folks gather round to be happy and spend their day
A-heres what happened now,
I soon decide that Id take with me
The most specialest girl I knew
I had her pack us a lunch and on down the dirt road we flew
(hurry hurry, step right up and win your girl a stuffed koala bear)
[aw, come on nicky. win me a koala bear]
(break the balloon with a dart)
(yes you son, come up here. win your girl a stuffed koala bear)
[oh please win me a koala bear]
(break the balloon with a dart. come on son, step right up)
(get up there, thats a boy)
Right then I knew what I had to do
(hurry, hurry)
Before that day was through
(step right up)
I had to win a stuffed doggie or Id break her poor heart in two
(hurry, hurry)
(win a prize)
A let me tell you now,
I passed up a chance when I walked by a booth
(hurry, hurry)
Where you throw a dart and break a balloon
(step right up)
I snuck by a couple more, but I had to get caught real soon
(hurry, hurry)
(win a prize)
(step right up, test your strength.)
(come on son, ring the bell with the hammer)
[aww, come on muscles]
(win your girl a stuffed koala bear)
[ooohhh]
(come on son, are you a man or a weakling? )
(yes you, step up here and test your strength)
(win your girl a stuffed koala bear)
[come on baby]
(come on son)
I hit the rubber stump just as hard as I could
(hurry, hurry)
But I didnt make it ring the bell
(step right up)
I tried again and again, but I just didnt do so well
(hurry, hurry)
(win a prize)
Can you believe it now,
Up walked a fella and he tapped me on the shoulder, said
(hurry, hurry)
I can win your girl a prize
[...] Read more
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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If It's Love!
It's important that unshown love,
Comes directly shown from you.
To say it...
Doesn't make,
That-love-be-true!
It's important that unshown love,
Is a thing one wants to do...
Just to prove what is said,
Is absolutely true.
A hug,
And maybe a kiss.
A touch,
That has been missed.
A show of thoughtfulness...
Can go a very long distance.
A call,
Every once in a while...
Will go further than a mile.
If love is there to be shared...
Show someone they are cared for!
And doubts will come no more.
It's important that unshown love,
Comes directly shown from you.
To say it...
Doesn't make,
That-love-be-true!
It's important it's directly shown,
If it's love.
Yes!
It's important it's directly shown,
If it's love.
Yes!
It's important it's directly shown.
It's important it's directly shown.
It's important it's directly shown,
If it's love!
It shoos a boo-hooin'...
Known.
It's important it's directly shown.
It's important it's directly shown.
It's important it's directly shown,
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Carny Town
(words & music by wise - starr)
Aha-ha hurry, hurry step this way
Aha-ha hurry, hurry step this way
Now the show youre going to see is strictly high class
Therell be ten hoola dancers shaking their grass
So step right up and put your money down
This way to carny town
We got a man so skinny you can see his bones
We play on his ribs like a xylophone
With a pair of spoons we get a rockin song
Youll hear it all, in carny town
Hurry, hurry, hurry, the house is almost full
We got a two headed cow and thats no bull
Theres a man who swallows swords and he never gets hurt
He eats razor blades for dessert
Hes just about the sharpest guy around
Youll see him here, in carny town
Aha-ha hurry, hurry step this way
Aha-ha hurry, hurry step this way
Aha-ha hurry, hurry step this way
Aha-ha hurry, hurry step this way
Aha-ha I say were gonna win
I said hurry up
song performed by Elvis Presley
Added by Lucian Velea
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Rockafeller Skank
Intro
DJ: WBCN who's this?
Brad: Hey this is Brad (this is Brad this is)
DJ: Now uh who's your favorite artist, who
do you want to hear?
Brad: Well m my favorite artist right now is
Fatboy Slim, that guy kicks ass.
DJ: How tremendous is Fatboy Slim?
Brad: The band of the 90's, if you want to call
it a band because it's a one man name.
DJ: Wow...fatboy, and you want to hear that
new fatboy song?
Brad: Absolutely.
DJ: Which one?
Brad: The um funk soul brother check it out.
DJ: Sing it, I don't know which one.
Brad: Right about now, the funk soul brother
check it out now, the funk soul brother.
Right About Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Check It Out Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Right About Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Check It Out Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Right About Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Check It Out Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Right About Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Check It Out Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Right About Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Check It Out Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Right About Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Right About Now
'bout now
'bout now
'bout now
Right About Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Check It Out Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Right About Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Check It Out Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Right About Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Check It Out Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Right About Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Check It Out Now
The Funk Soul Brother
Right About Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Check It Out Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Right About Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Check It Out Now
The Funk Soul Brother
Right About Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Check It Out Now
The Funk Soul Brother, Right About Now
[...] Read more
song performed by Fatboy Slim
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Rockafeller Skank
Intro
Dj: wbcn whos this?
Brad: hey this is brad (this is brad this is)
Dj: now uh whos your favorite artist, who
Do you want to hear?
Brad: well m my favorite artist right now is
Fatboy slim, that guy kicks ass.
Dj: how tremendous is fatboy slim?
Brad: the band of the 90s, if you want to call
It a band because its a one man name.
Dj: wow...fatboy, and you want to hear that
New fatboy song?
Brad: absolutely.
Dj: which one?
Brad: the um funk soul brother check it out.
Dj: sing it, I dont know which one.
Brad: right about now, the funk soul brother
Check it out now, the funk soul brother.
Right about now
The funk soul brother, check it out now
The funk soul brother, right about now
The funk soul brother, check it out now
The funk soul brother, right about now
The funk soul brother, check it out now
The funk soul brother, right about now
The funk soul brother, check it out now
The funk soul brother, right about now
The funk soul brother, check it out now
The funk soul brother, right about now
The funk soul brother, right about now
bout now
bout now
bout now
Right about now
The funk soul brother, check it out now
The funk soul brother, right about now
The funk soul brother, check it out now
The funk soul brother, right about now
The funk soul brother, check it out now
The funk soul brother, right about now
The funk soul brother, check it out now
The funk soul brother
Right about now
The funk soul brother, check it out now
The funk soul brother, right about now
The funk soul brother, check it out now
The funk soul brother
Right about now
The funk soul brother, check it out now
The funk soul brother, right about now
[...] Read more
song performed by Fatboy Slim
Added by Lucian Velea
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Open The Gate
I see you from the distance
From beyond the fence you made
Hiding all your feelings
Behind your barricade
Oh have you been invaded
Is this the reason why you hide
I know just how you're feeling
I know - let me inside
Open the gate up
Open the gate up - hurry
Open the gate up - hurry
I want to get near you
But you just won't let me in
'Cause you're so scared of losing
Everything you've got within
Come on now you can trust me
Come on and open the door
'Cause I know just how you're feeling
I know - I've been there before
Open the gate up
Open the gate up - hurry
Open the gate up
Hurry hurry hurry hurry
And do it right now
Do it right now
Do it right now
Do it right now - hurry
Do it right now - do it right now
Do it right now - do it right now
And do it right now - do it right now
Do it right now - do it right now
Hurry
Open the gate up
Open the gate up - hurry
Open the gate up
Hurry hurry hurry hurry
Open the gate up - open the gate up
Or I'm gonna knock the damn door down
Open the gate up - open the gate up
Or I'm gonna knock the damn door down
Open the gate up - open the gate up
Or I'm gonna knock the damn door down
Open the gate up - open the gate up
Or I'm gonna knock the damn door down
[...] Read more
song performed by No Doubt from Beacon Street Collection
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hurry up! Hurry up! Hurry up!
Hurry up to fall in love!
Be surprised how beautiful it is!
Hurry up to speak of love!
Realize that these words can anyone please.
To give yourself to others –
What happiness it is!
All people are sisters and brothers
Take care of friendship, please!
Don’t hide the feelings of admiration!
It’s a foundation of love creation.
Use your brain but more imagination
If you want to find the right station.
Hurry up to be needed by someone!
Don’t suffer of senseless doubts!
Everyone on the Earth needs love,
No one wants the bailouts.
Hurry up to mourn and even to cry!
Those are forlorn whose eyes are always dry.
With every breath the time runs out,
Every moment of life is a gift beyond any doubt.
[...] Read more
poem by Larisa Rzhepishevska
Added by Poetry Lover
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Lay It All Down
Written by bob welch.
Let me retell
A story of old
About a man named moses
Who lived long ago
He prophicied good
He prophicied bad
And now that prophecys
Coming to pass
Let all your sons, and your daughters
Of the golden calf
Lay down your burden of sorrow
Lay down your burden of hurt
Lay it all down, for paradise here on earth
A whole lot of people, including myself
Thought the story of moses was just a tall tale
But all of the things that we see going on
Are just what moses set down
Let all your sons, and your daughters
Of the golden-yeah
Lay down your burden of sorrow
Lay down your burden of hurt
Lay it all down, for paradise here on earth
Let me retell
A story I know
About a man named moses
Who lived long ago
He prophicied good
He prophicied bad
And now that prophecys
Coming to pass
Let all your sons, and your daughters
Of the golden-yeah
Lay down your burden of sorrow
Lay down your burden of hurt
Lay down your burden of sorrow
Lay down your burden of hurt
Lay down your burden of sorrow
Lay down your burden of hurt
I just cant imagine a reason for sorrow
Just cant imagine the hurt
Youve got to lay it down
Youve got to lay it down
Youve got to lay it down
Youve got to lay it down
I said lay down your burden of sorrow
Lay down your burden of hurt
Lay down your burden of sorrow
Theres just no reason to hurt
Youve got to lay down your burden of sorrow
[...] Read more
song performed by Fleetwood Mac
Added by Lucian Velea
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Dont Worry Baby
Well its been building up inside of me
For oh I dont know how long
I dont know why
But I keep thinking
Somethings bound to go wrong
But she looks in my eyes
And makes me realize
And she says dont worry baby
Dont worry baby
Dont worry baby
Everything will turn out alright
Dont worry baby
Dont worry baby
Dont worry baby
I guess I shouldve kept my mouth shut
When I started to brag about my car
But I cant back down now
I pushed the other guys too far
She makes me come alive
And makes me wanna drive
When she says dont worry baby
Dont worry baby
Dont worry baby
Everything will turn out alright
Dont worry baby
Dont worry baby
Dont worry baby
She told me baby, when you race today
Just take along my love with you
And if you know how much I loved you
Baby nothing could go wrong with you
Oh what she does to me
When she makes love to me
And she says dont worry baby
Dont worry baby
Dont worry baby
Everything will turn out alright
Dont worry baby
Dont worry baby
Dont worry baby
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Let Me Give You My Love
What a day, young boy next door passed away.
It makes me wanna say,
"Hey, I don't wanna waste another day."
Can you and I start mixing gene pools?
Eastern, Western, people get naughty, multilingual?
I was sort of like soul searching,
But your body's so jaw-dropping,
Our chemistry's ground-breaking,
Don't keep me waiting?
Hurry up baby,
Hurry up baby,
let me give you my love.
Hurry up,
Lets turn this room into a melting pot?
Giddy up baby,
Giddy up baby,
Let me give you my love.
Buckle up boy,
I know you're gonna like what I got?
Maybe it's not worth the wait.
Maybe I should walk away.
Hey, I don't want to waste my energy.
Can you and I stop acting like fools,
Or move on to other people?
It's funny, but I liked that sad song.
I was sort of like soul searching,
But your body's so jaw-dropping,
Some say its rule-breaking,
But times are changing?
Hurry up baby,
Hurry up baby,
let me give you my love.
Hurry up,
Lets turn this room into a melting pot?
Giddy up baby,
Giddy up baby,
Let me give you my love.
Buckle up boy,
I know you're gonna like what I got?
Let me know if what I'm feeling isn't mutual.
All I know is that I'm feeling very very hot?
Hurry up baby,
Hurry up baby,
let me give you my love.
Hurry up,
Lets turn this room into a melting pot?
Giddy up baby,
Giddy up baby,
Let me give you my love.
Buckle up boy,
[...] Read more
song performed by Utada Hikaru
Added by Lucian Velea
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Victoria Gardens
Youre looking and listening and hoping
That things are changing for the better
Youre trying to see if what youre teaching is the truth sir
Youre looking and listening and hoping
That things will change for better
Dont want to preach or teach the blues to you now brother
I just left victoria gardens
And walked through cardboard city land
A burnt out star was asking
How would I like to shake his hand
I walked on in no hurry (hurry hurry hurry)
And wondered where did we go wrong?
Were looking and listening and hoping
That things are changing for the better
Dont want to preach or teach the blues to you now brother
I walked on in no hurry (hurry hurry hurry)
And wondered where did we go wrong?
Looking listening hoping that things are changing for the better
(only time can tell)
Its a bloody fine situation
That we find ourselves in
He said something I couldnt mention (here)
And we laughed with him again
I walked on in no hurry (hurry hurry hurry)
And wondered where did we go wrong?
Looking listening hoping that things are changing for the better
And trying to see if what youre teaching is the truth sir
She said its for the good of us all
(of us all, of us all, of us all)
Looking listening hoping that things are changing for the better
Dont want to preach or teach the blues to you now brother
Im not so sure
(sure, sure, sure)
And now it is early evening
I look across grey leicester square
A large and silent crowd were walking
Said they had every right to be there
song performed by Madness
Added by Lucian Velea
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Estimated Prophet
My time coming, any day, dont worry about me, no
Been so long I felt this way, Im in no hurry, no
Rainbows and down that highway where ocean breezes blow
My time coming, voices saying they tell me where to go.
Dont worry about me, nah nah nah, dont worry about me, no
And Im in no hurry, nah nah nah, I know where to go.
California, preaching on the burning shore
California, Ill be knocking on the golden door
Like an angel, standing in a shaft of light
Rising up to paradise, I know Im gonna shine.
My time coming, any day, dont worry about me, no
Its gonna be just like they say, them voices tell me so
Seems so long I felt this way and time sure passin slow
Still I know I lead the way, they tell me where I go.
Dont worry about me, no no no, dont worry about me, no
And Im in no hurry, no no no, I know where to go.
California, a prophet on the burning shore
California, Ill be knocking on the golden door
Like an angel, standing in a shaft of light
Rising up to paradise, I know Im gonna shine.
Youve all been asleep, you would not believe me
Them voices tellin me, you will soon receive me
Standin on the beach, the sea will part before me
Fire wheel burning in the air!
You will follow me and we will ride to glory, way up, the middle of
The air!
And Ill call down thunder and speak the same and my work fills the
Sky with flame
And might and glory gonna be my name and men gonna light my way.
My time coming, any day, dont worry about me, no
Its gonna be just like they say, them voices tell me so
Seems so long I felt this way and time sure passin slow
My time coming, any day, dont worry about me, no
Dont worry about me, no no no, dont worry about me, no
And Im in no hurry, no no no, dont worry about me, no.
song performed by Grateful Dead
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido
You are the Cardinal Acciaiuoli, and you,
Abate Panciatichi—two good Tuscan names:
Acciaiuoli—ah, your ancestor it was
Built the huge battlemented convent-block
Over the little forky flashing Greve
That takes the quick turn at the foot o' the hill
Just as one first sees Florence: oh those days!
'T is Ema, though, the other rivulet,
The one-arched brown brick bridge yawns over,—yes,
Gallop and go five minutes, and you gain
The Roman Gate from where the Ema's bridged:
Kingfishers fly there: how I see the bend
O'erturreted by Certosa which he built,
That Senescal (we styled him) of your House!
I do adjure you, help me, Sirs! My blood
Comes from as far a source: ought it to end
This way, by leakage through their scaffold-planks
Into Rome's sink where her red refuse runs?
Sirs, I beseech you by blood-sympathy,
If there be any vile experiment
In the air,—if this your visit simply prove,
When all's done, just a well-intentioned trick,
That tries for truth truer than truth itself,
By startling up a man, ere break of day,
To tell him he must die at sunset,—pshaw!
That man's a Franceschini; feel his pulse,
Laugh at your folly, and let's all go sleep!
You have my last word,—innocent am I
As Innocent my Pope and murderer,
Innocent as a babe, as Mary's own,
As Mary's self,—I said, say and repeat,—
And why, then, should I die twelve hours hence? I—
Whom, not twelve hours ago, the gaoler bade
Turn to my straw-truss, settle and sleep sound
That I might wake the sooner, promptlier pay
His due of meat-and-drink-indulgence, cross
His palm with fee of the good-hand, beside,
As gallants use who go at large again!
For why? All honest Rome approved my part;
Whoever owned wife, sister, daughter,—nay,
Mistress,—had any shadow of any right
That looks like right, and, all the more resolved,
Held it with tooth and nail,—these manly men
Approved! I being for Rome, Rome was for me.
Then, there's the point reserved, the subterfuge
My lawyers held by, kept for last resource,
Firm should all else,—the impossible fancy!—fail,
And sneaking burgess-spirit win the day.
The knaves! One plea at least would hold,—they laughed,—
One grappling-iron scratch the bottom-rock
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Blue In The Face
Just like a bee rushing to a comb of honey
Why cant you see you look so very funny
You worry yourself sick till youre blue in the face
Relax and sleep, tomorrow isnt leaving
And counting your sheep wont relieve you from this grieving
You worry yourself sick till youre blue in the face
But youll make ends meet I know you will so please pull up a chair
Take your time the worlds not going anywhere
Honey, you worry yourself sick till youre blue in the face
Blue in the face
cause youre always in a hurry
Blue in the face
cause you always tend to worry
Youre just like a honey bee, you panic, you sting, then you die
Its just like you to fret like you do
So take the afternoon and maybe someday soon
You wont have to worry yourself sick till youre blue in the face
But youll make ends meet I know you will so please pull up a chair
And take your time the worlds not going anywhere
Honey, you worry yourself sick till youre blue in the face
Blue in the face
cause youre always in a hurry
Blue in the face
cause you always tend to worry
Youre just like a honey bee, you panic, you sting, then you die
Youre just like a honey bee zap!...
Oh, when youre in a state of mind they call anxiety
And you find it very necessary to pull out your hair
Dont be discouraged
Oh, honey have courage
Dont worry yourself sick till youre blue in the face
Like always you worry till youre blue in the face
Honey why worry yourself sick till youre blue in the face
Youre always in a hurry
Blue in the face
You always tend to worry
Cause youre just like a honey bee, you panic, you sting, then you die
Just like a honey bee
Blue in the face
You got no time to waste
Slow down the pace
Youre turning blue, blue, blue
Blue in the face
You got no time to waste
Slow down the pace
Youre turning blue
song performed by Gwen Stefani
Added by Lucian Velea
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Book III - Part 03 - The Soul is Mortal
Now come: that thou mayst able be to know
That minds and the light souls of all that live
Have mortal birth and death, I will go on
Verses to build meet for thy rule of life,
Sought after long, discovered with sweet toil.
But under one name I'd have thee yoke them both;
And when, for instance, I shall speak of soul,
Teaching the same to be but mortal, think
Thereby I'm speaking also of the mind-
Since both are one, a substance interjoined.
First, then, since I have taught how soul exists
A subtle fabric, of particles minute,
Made up from atoms smaller much than those
Of water's liquid damp, or fog, or smoke,
So in mobility it far excels,
More prone to move, though strook by lighter cause
Even moved by images of smoke or fog-
As where we view, when in our sleeps we're lulled,
The altars exhaling steam and smoke aloft-
For, beyond doubt, these apparitions come
To us from outward. Now, then, since thou seest,
Their liquids depart, their waters flow away,
When jars are shivered, and since fog and smoke
Depart into the winds away, believe
The soul no less is shed abroad and dies
More quickly far, more quickly is dissolved
Back to its primal bodies, when withdrawn
From out man's members it has gone away.
For, sure, if body (container of the same
Like as a jar), when shivered from some cause,
And rarefied by loss of blood from veins,
Cannot for longer hold the soul, how then
Thinkst thou it can be held by any air-
A stuff much rarer than our bodies be?
Besides we feel that mind to being comes
Along with body, with body grows and ages.
For just as children totter round about
With frames infirm and tender, so there follows
A weakling wisdom in their minds; and then,
Where years have ripened into robust powers,
Counsel is also greater, more increased
The power of mind; thereafter, where already
The body's shattered by master-powers of eld,
And fallen the frame with its enfeebled powers,
Thought hobbles, tongue wanders, and the mind gives way;
All fails, all's lacking at the selfsame time.
Therefore it suits that even the soul's dissolved,
Like smoke, into the lofty winds of air;
[...] Read more
poem by Lucretius
Added by Poetry Lover
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Dont Worry
Theres no need for you,
Baby,
It aint what you think,
So dont worry,
[verse 1]
You remember back in the day when,
We thought it was special,
When we always stayed down,
No matter where we went youd stay in touch,
Two people that were just so in love,
Now you probably aint feelin much,
Like things aint really been the way they used to be,
And you say it seems like I changed,
But Im still the same.
[chorus (2x)]
Theres no need for you,
(to worry bout me)
Baby,
(dont worry bout me)
It aint what you think,
(you still got me)
So dont worry,
(dont worry bout, dont worry bout me)
Even though it seems,
(youre losing me)
And things,
(aint what they used to be)
Baby,
(I aint gonna leave)
Dont worry,
(dont worry bout, dont worry bout me)
[verse 2]
I was headin out to cali,
For a show,
Said that on tuesday,
Id be home,
Left a message on your voicemail
Sayin Id call you later,
To inform you Im alright,
Now you callin,
Just to tell me that you heard,
I was seen in a bentley with my girls,
So Im on my way to a spot where people hang,
But nothings changed.
[chorus (2x)]
[bridge]
Theres no need to
Worry bout what
I do when Im away.
(dont worry bout a damn thing)
[...] Read more
song performed by Aaliyah
Added by Lucian Velea
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Quatrains Of Life
What has my youth been that I love it thus,
Sad youth, to all but one grown tedious,
Stale as the news which last week wearied us,
Or a tired actor's tale told to an empty house?
What did it bring me that I loved it, even
With joy before it and that dream of Heaven,
Boyhood's first rapture of requited bliss,
What did it give? What ever has it given?
'Let me recount the value of my days,
Call up each witness, mete out blame and praise,
Set life itself before me as it was,
And--for I love it--list to what it says.
Oh, I will judge it fairly. Each old pleasure
Shared with dead lips shall stand a separate treasure.
Each untold grief, which now seems lesser pain,
Shall here be weighed and argued of at leisure.
I will not mark mere follies. These would make
The count too large and in the telling take
More tears than I can spare from seemlier themes
To cure its laughter when my heart should ache.
Only the griefs which are essential things,
The bitter fruit which all experience brings;
Nor only of crossed pleasures, but the creed
Men learn who deal with nations and with kings.
All shall be counted fairly, griefs and joys,
Solely distinguishing 'twixt mirth and noise,
The thing which was and that which falsely seemed,
Pleasure and vanity, man's bliss and boy's.
So I shall learn the reason of my trust
In this poor life, these particles of dust
Made sentient for a little while with tears,
Till the great ``may--be'' ends for me in ``must.''
My childhood? Ah, my childhood! What of it
Stripped of all fancy, bare of all conceit?
Where is the infancy the poets sang?
Which was the true and which the counterfeit?
I see it now, alas, with eyes unsealed,
That age of innocence too well revealed.
The flowers I gathered--for I gathered flowers--
Were not more vain than I in that far field.
[...] Read more
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Added by Poetry Lover
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Magpie, My Keeper, Is Flying - Upon Freeing the Gift of Creativity Turned Inward
.
for Elaine Bellezza, Beloved Anima-as-Fate
'There is only one real deprivation, I decided this morning, and that is not to be able to give one's gift to those one loves most...The gift turned inward, unable to be given, becomes a heavy burden, even sometimes a kind of poison. It is as though the flow of life were backed up.' - May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude
This afternoon while still somewhat hungover from last night's rich meal and several glasses of strong red wine, I stumbled as one does when hungover, only today without feet but with eyes, upon the above quote by May Sarton. I had awakened this morning with fragments of a dream, repetitive of other dreams the past few months, where I am carrying something precious and just cannot put it down in any old place or upon just any available surface. I cannot put it down until I find the right surface and location.
These dreams are full of torrential flood waters, or backed up, stagnant water, toilets full of filth and pungent bright orange dark urine days old and fermenting. I cannot unhand the burden even though the urge to pee or flee or drive a car away or into flood waters is strong. I must not put down the burden odd as it is; it is my laptop carrying case made of canvas. It is large enough to carry not only my laptop but also many books with which I cannot, will not be parted from as they are the must-have-with-me-always 'bread', my staple and stability in a given to me world out of balance.
I have understood the dreams only a little - something within the psyche is flooding up, over-spilling or has already, has not been adequately canalized, channeled, streamed and guided, shaped and formed. Or flushed. I knew that eventually, as dreams do when one sits consciously, patiently, persistently with them, they would yield their messages to me, and upon revelation these must be obeyed, brought out into the world, Carl Jung having said that one has a moral responsibility to dreams once they are kenned and must be conscientiously acted upon in the outer world. Just dreaming is not enough. Everyone dreams but not very many know to dream them out into the world, to let their messages unfurl, flood and flow to bring forth new consciousness, to reshape old forms no longer adequate to self, place and time into symbol and their sense, usually not literal.
And thus, only just now, upon opening up haphazardly in a book about Dostoevsky and his struggle with addictions which mirror the profound compulsion to create at any cost perhaps beyond one's capacities to renew oneself, I find May Sarton's quote and suddenly the dreams clarify and sharpen into focus; I understand them as the burden of creativity too long turned inward, the burden of writing, the burden of poetry which I have carried heavily for most of my life since middle school when I was 11 or 12 years old when books became my lifeline, my link to existence that I could live on in spite of not wanting to do so. Written words, books, kept me from disappearing though I was and remain a mostly invisible word.
And thus the floods. One cannot ignore them. Alphabets tumble and roil. One dare not ignore them. One must see them without a choice to not see them. In them I am suddenly made visible, bright orange p*ss pots and all. I am both appalled and pleased. My burden is upon my knees.
The backed up water, the urine, is creativity. A somewhat odd symbol of creativity, there is more than enough evidence that urination is symbolic of self expression which is creativity. In ancient Rome the highly valued dirt from the urinals of boys' schools was collected to be used as a cosmetic in order to restore youthful energy and looks. A young boy, or puer in Latin, is an archetypal symbol of ongoing creativity and inspiration, the puer aeternas, the eternal youth, well springs of ongoing creativity still imaged in solid fountains of the world where eternal waters flow from the peni of cherubic youth.
I have struggled my entire life with a strong urge to create, to write, to express in words that creative daemon within which torments no matter the completion of a poem or essay, a lecture, a psalm. And now my dreams have had me consciously, urgently seeking a place to put the burden down, to perhaps come to it anew. I imagine that landing the burden means bringing it down to earth, manifesting creativity all the more by bringing my efforts to others for the strongest part of the compulsive urge in my creativity has been to contribute one good thing, one good poem or piece of writing which in some way might further the culture even if only by a flea's leg length.
The dreams urge me to let the urine flow, to let the flood waters indeed flood over, to be less self conscious of what I write and say but to have at it all and to say my say. And to let whatever waves there are crest and break upon ever receptive banks and shores whose duty it is to allow what may come from motion without complaint, the more compliant toward as yet to be fully formed purposes as yet to be scored.
Synchronistically, a few days ago I listened to a lecture by poet Allen Ginsberg about Walt Whitman and his imitators, those who were goodly influenced by his effulgent, self indulgent style, his garrulous poems which presumed to express the very expansiveness of the North American continent over-flooded by a plague of itinerant, persistent poachers and prophets from Europe to Eastern disembarkation and then inland and Westward, compelled to overtake land and native peoples in their possessed, pushed wake. Ginsberg imagined himself to be a timely extension of this unruly school, as savage as the projected upon land and justly-resistant, resident humanity stretched beyond known bounds and sounds. Blood drowned and pounded the god-hounded land even now is flooded by unleashed mighty rivers seeking, if rivers seek at all, to undo and renew in horse shoe and other shapes the crimes of consciousness compelled to overtake while leaving it up to human souls to repent and repair, to prepare for more powerful insurgencies of land and Self ever seeking new and nower expressions of dirt and deity. There's enough history beneath layers to support the scarp and scrape of momentary yet monumental motions finally given mouths to utter what lies both beneath and within the heaping huzzahs of here here here full and deep. As in my dream, it is hard to steer in such surpassing tides and currents. Still, I am searching for holy campground that I may lay my burden down.
I have no wish to imitate Whitman nor Ginsberg - though both are easily imitated since they did so themselves, an occupational hazard for writers - but only to be obedient to the daemon, that urgent, emergent, creative force within. It rushes within and against me. No matter whether derived of the grandiose American continent and the even more grandiose sky or not, I have all too successfully braced against it in fear of failure, reprisal or, worse, complete indifference from others. My dreams now urge floods and resultant coagulations, they bring creative splurges to ground from hand to the hard world. And Nature, too, is indifferent but begs none the less and all the more to be given utterance and response.
Respondeo ergo sum. I respond, therefore I am. I respond, therefore the other, earth, all her ants, is as long as there are eyes, ears, and scanning minds to acknowledge and touch, wrestle, caress, shape - some in scansions - outer from inner, inner from outer, landscapes to be all too quickly discarded in time for what is sung just ahead. And seen. Or hoped, all praise to telescopes. We would be they, so addicted to horizons, to bring them close.
Something there is needs completion via coagulation, forming, shaping, and sharing with whomever may be open to clods delivered. If not, rivers will, as they will without reason, continue to overrun their banks and insist upon covering designated previous cultivations. Let then excess of creativity have its say, play out, and leave the critical post-considerations to others. I will surely sit and ponder spent what spills forth, to shape, to edit, to discard. And watch my little yard sink beneath needed and needy floods.
I will have done with deprivation and bring myself, what I have shaped and misshapen, to the world. These things, this burden, have I most loved and felt responsible for, have born the shame of. I have fought and have failed utterly again and again though my attempts have been, and still are, sincere though not blameless. Fear has been my encampment, a longing beneath knowing feet in secret cellars just beyond reach of contracted hands forever spelling hunger. I know open bastion doors and windows to now fling beyond embankments what has been wrung out of my floes and woes though hands wither from too much turning against and inward. What a relief to burst beyond boundaries too long successfully restraining.
I recently wrote a poem about much too too solid bastions of self, of forceful puer energy ramming through and over and into long buried storms and petrified forms, of passion mangling the delusion of 'norms' ignoring too sensitive alarms. Given May Sarton's May revelation this morning I now understand that the poem is about more than eros, it is about that powerful creative/destructive force, the daemon/tyro that ever urges outward intent on making and staking Self in new land and at least one aging man wrenched and rendered from dried and calcified encrustations. I am, to borrow from the insistent dream image, beginning to leak. And to break open.
Archeology - What The Stele Says 'Upon Taking A Much Younger Lover'
That this old ground yields to plow stuns.
What begins to be, earth swell, breaks
root-room open to blood means.
Old skeins tear upon what is new terrain,
hunger worn, long appended. There is
no blame for pain is the blessing.
All hurt now stings twilight quaked into being.
Your breath falls upon me now, taut, sinew,
bruising hand, purple inside flares warrior nerves
[...] Read more
poem by Warren Falcon
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Interested
Your favorite food
What you like to do
Your favorite color
or any other
The thing on your mind
That you like to share
Cause I can stay here
And listen to every word
Because I'm interested
Can I be an instrument
For changing your life
Is that all right?
Because I'm interested
I'd rather be with you instead
Than anyone else
Cause I'm interested in your middle name
Now don't be ashamed, Naw
It's between me and you
Everything you do
Let your guard down
Because there's a new girl in town
gonna turn it around
I hope that you are down
Because I'm interested
Can I be your instrument
In changing your life
Is that allright?
Because I'm interested
I'd rather be with you instead
of anyone else
I'm wide open
No more secrets
No lie
Don't wanna live like a fool
But I will
For you
So I'll beg
I'll scream
I'll call
I'll write
If that's what it takes for you to be in my life
Because I'm interested
And I'll be an instrument
In changing your life
Is that all right?
Because I'm interested
And I rather be with you instead
Of anyone else
Oh No
Because I'm interested
[...] Read more
song performed by India Arie
Added by Lucian Velea
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