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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=575293" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Asylum</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'London's burning, London's burning, <br>fetch the books, Fahrenheit 451'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The inmates gawk from our ward's window, <br>they don't look back, <br>they walk no further.<br>(Shakes his head in dismay) <br>That's right my apple-picking friend, <br>not much has changed since you fell off the ladder.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I dip my hand into the melting ice of the glass.<br>I can smell it, I say.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the fire's waving ecstasy, <br>I'll try to reap its piquant lick.<br>Aye, the smoke, as it singes the plastic of my hands.<br>Inner peace, inner peace, <br>the monk of Tibet knows, <br>'I was so much older then, <br>I'm younger than that now'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And breath, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">one two, <br>one two, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and weep, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">one two, <br>one two, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and dance, <br>sing, <br>scream! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">All the world's seas, <br>and all the king's lands, <br>in rapture to fill<br>My Lord God's hands</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Unconquerable shake of the madman's iron grip, <br>Each four-winged, heartless Pomeranian princess<br>of a Brother's Grimm fairy tale, <br>are whispers in the waterfall.<br>The lady's charm, <br>the missing marble arms, <br>oh beauty further than the seas, <br>cold on my toes she touches, <br>oh water of timeless blue, <br>flower of the Cuckoo's rest, <br>time, <br>hurries on, <br>and time, <br>hurries on.<br>Her bright linen rags unravel in streaks along the shore stack, <br>her light guides the wayfarer home, <br>with her arms stretched out, <br>she gives into the wind<br>- the nymph of the Irish coast, <br>- the naked eyes of her poignant face-<br>she flies.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yeats claps me from the corner<br>with Jonathan Swift and Alexander the Great.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Revelling in mad depths they bare, <br>damaging in fruits that stare, <br>modern in thoughts the pair, <br>of late and drunken dare, <br>fair in war and hair, <br>those normal, each and other button-sided hat swallowing foot glove.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hollow-eyed nurses scorn: <br>'nobody's right, if everybody's wrong'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now? <br>Say nay? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">What is it today, to be different? <br>This isn't the unholy asylum, <br>I see it on the streets, <br>in the people, when they garble on their phones<br>in the teachers, when they tell us what to say<br>in the shopping centres, where we're told what to buy<br>on the internet, when they tell us what's wrong about<br>in parliament.<br>Who are the mad? <br>Not I, <br>I say nay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Incomprehensible blind prison of three walls and a translucent window! <br>Inside, shuddering nakedness of a smothered Aristotelian love affair.<br>Embrace your Platonic future and past! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And if the heavens glance over this tear on the grass, <br>oh lord, <br>let its glimmer be me.<br>Oh lord, <br>let it be me who shines.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ross+Mackay">Ross Mackay</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=575293" data-title="The Asylum de Ross Mackay" data-description="'London's burning, London's burning, 
fetch the books, Fahrenheit 451'

The inmates gawk from our ward's window, 
they don't look back, 
they walk no further.
(Shakes his head in dismay) 
That's right my apple-picking friend, 
not much has changed..."></div>
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