Again I entered my smithy to work and forge something from the noble material of time past.
quote by Jean Froissart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
To be Carved On A Stone At Thoor Ballylee
I, THE poet William Yeats,
With old mill boards and sea-green slates,
And smithy work from the Gort forge,
Restored this tower for my wife George;
And may these characters remain
When all is ruin once again.
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To be Carved on a Stone at Ballylee
I, the poet William Yeats,
With old mill boards and sea-green slates,
And smithy work from the Gort forge,
Restored this tower for my wife George;
And may these characters remain
When all is ruin once again.
poem by William Butler Yeats
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Living In The Material World
Im living in the material world
Living in the material world
Cant say what Im doing here
But I hope to see much clearer,
After living in the material world
I got born into the material world
Getting worn out in the material world
Use my body like a car,
Taking me both near and far
Met my friends all in the material world
Met them all there in the material world
John and paul here in the material world
Though we started out quite poor
We got richie on a tour
Got caught up in the material world
From the spiritual sky,
Such sweet memories have i
To the spiritual sky
How I pray
Yes I pray
That I wont get lost
Or go astray
As Im fated for the material world
Get frustrated in the material world
Senses never gratified
Only swelling like a tide
That could drown me in the
Material world
From the spiritual sky,
Such sweet memories have i
To the spiritual sky
How I pray
Yes I pray
That I wont get lost
Or go astray
While Im living in the material world
Not much giving in the material world
Got a lot of work to do
Try to get a message through
And get back out of this material world
Im living in the material world
Living in the material world
I hope to get out of this place
By the lord sri krsnas grace
My salvation from the material world
Big ending
song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Song of the Forge
The forge-fire sets a glow in the heavens,
the hammer thunders, showering the smoke with sparks.
A ruddy smithy, the white face of the moon,
and the hammer, ringing down cold dark canyons.
Li T'ai-po
tr. Hamil
Forget Me Not
forget me
not
please do
not
forget me
me not
to forget
not me
forge
t
o
not
for
get
get to forge
forge
t
to me you must
not forget
get me
get me for
i, too do not remember
a face, a name,
i am old.
older than you think.
the pain. i never had this sense
of
what joys did we share? the boulevard.
long time ago. forge me.
forget me not. forget me.
i remember not you anymore.
post
traumatic
this disorder. pity. she finally gives up this bouncy baby boy.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mental Wealth
Mental Wealth
Every one has to necessarily work
to sustain their lives on earth,
and not go berserk.
For food, clothing and shelter,
material wealth is required,
else one may go helter-skelter.
Inner wealth of mind
is to be developed first,
which is to be compassionate and kind,
With patience and generosity,
uprightness and worthy of respect,
with knowledge sans pomposity.
There exist various forms of life species:
none is so particularly special
and valuable as our human species!
In this species of exalted breed,
the root problems of human lineament
exist as lethargy and greed.
Devoid of these wrong qualities,
material wealth must be acquired
in a noble manner by the entities.
When there is thus a priority
of mental wealth over material wealth
the material wealth gleams in quality!
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sometimes in the past when I was going to perform a piece again I would listen to old recordings and try to reproduce the material. This time I realized that carrying around old information, trying to get everything in, and still be in the moment just doesn't work.
quote by Meredith Monk
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Running Out Of Time
Just looked at my watch and I'm running out of time.
Best to attend to pertinent issues and forget the five and dime.
I'm usually so busy with routine chores of the day
That what really counts I miss or feel it's just in my way.
After work I was too tired for family with no strength to move on.
Now I sit with time on my hands, but with family long gone.
I spent my time gathering material possessions for all to see.
Now that time is running out I realize they mean nothing to me.
The two sided coin of time has helped me truly understand
That life is like a veritable desert of sand.
One side is love which will provide protection every hour.
The other is desire for material things sands of time will devour.
poem by Gregory Huyette
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The day when the scientist, no matter how devoted, may make significant progress alone and without material help is past. This fact is most self-evident in our work.
quote by Ernest Lawrence
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Material goods consist of useful material things, and of all rights to hold, or use, or derive benefits from material things, or to receive them at a future time.
quote by Alfred Marshall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Anything holy?
I thought it noble to rear cows.
I’ve been sued by the grass
In the court of God.
I thought it noble to grow crops.
I’ve been sued by the weeds
In the court of God.
I entered into fish farming.
I’ve been sued by the worms
In the court of God.
Could you do anything noble
In the world, sustainable
In the court of God?
18.04.2005
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Callaghan's Hotel
There's the same old coaching stable that was used by Cobb and Co.,
And the yard the coaches stood in more than sixty years ago;
And the public-private parlour, where they serve the passing swell,
Was the shoeing forge and smithy up at Callaghan’s Hotel.
There’s the same old walls and woodwork that our fathers built to last,
And the same old doors and wainscot and the windows of the past;
And the same old nooks and corners where the Jim-Jams used to dwell;
But the Fantods dance no longer up at Callaghan’s Hotel.
There are memories of old days that were red instead of blue;
In the time of “Dick the Devil” and of other devils too;
But perhaps they went to Heaven and are angels, doing well—
They were always open-hearted up at Callaghan’s Hotel.
Then the new chum, broken-hearted, and with boots all broken too,
Got another pair of bluchers, and a quid to see him through;
And the old chum got a bottle, who was down and suffering Hell;—
And no tucker-bag went empty out of Callaghan’s Hotel.
And I sit and think in sorrow of the nights that I have seen,
When we fought with chairs and bottles for the orange and the green;
For the peace of poor old Ireland, till they rang the breakfast bell—
And the honour of Old England, up at Callaghan’s Hotel.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Silly Game of Perhaps Chance
Perhaps... perhaps
I sigh and I grasp
onto the sorted strings
of the past
maybe a perhaps chance?
Perhaps maybe under another circumstance?
A perhaps chance, it'll all work out in the end.
Perhaps with patience
perhaps with time
perhaps beyond
perhaps - perhaps not
perhaps if it weren't for so many
fallen spells of drunken desire
perhaps if no one else had been there
perhaps if someone else was there to see
perhaps if somebody would have spoken out
perhaps everyone went on with life without a word
perhaps I am addicted to things I breathe in dream
perhaps my material body is attached
to too many non-material strings
perhaps it is too much self to which I am
absorbed and stuck
perhaps its the intoxicant past-time of the heart
and its accompanying rush
perhaps then we weren't ourselves
perhaps we all woke living as someone else
perhaps the spring went on without end
perhaps then summer became a lost friend
perhaps in the fall no one ever went away
perhaps the winter came without pass
perhaps the earth's sky was perpetual grey
perhaps no one ever played it safe in life
perhaps I never looked both ways
perhaps your eyes were headlights on a bus
perhaps then I would not be standing here today
oh, perhaps is such a silly game to play,
at night when counting out the stars.
Universe of infinite perhaps chances
blossoming in blackness
listen to the earth:
you can hear a perhaps chance chorus
whispered from a billion broken hearts
stars are proof
a perhaps chance
always leads to a
fresh bright start
poem by Gregory Allen Uhan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Jealous State
With my truth I can only react.
I must keep my eye on that pretty shining ball
For utmost attention must be held.
And here is where the devil dwell.
With my eyes still intact
I must see past the fall
With steel I must weld
Welcome to the angel whose entered hell
Welcome he was
Always as the veil was put upon ones face
In the past are things we wish could erase
Its a very distant escape
How you got here is a simple just because
Maybe it was the speed in which you took on this race
With every word you only bring upon yourself more distaste
Maybe I have entered another jealous state
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Toilsome Exercise
Toilsome exercise began sympathizing with masses,
The work raised itself, belonging to our abacuses.
The joy of our times touches on beautiful palpitations;
Whittle away the clocks. Whittle away the hours and agitations.
Our combustible material reasoned out as awesome material
For the work forwards, the function of our cereal.
Fast and slow came the weather and temperateness,
A bona fide action arose for the improvement and accurateness.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Past, Present, Future
i lived in the past for so long
that the present was always unknown.
now i always look ahead at all the possibilities
and there is so much, that i now see.
a shimmer of light at the end of the tunnel
and my thoughts being poured through a funnel.
the past is the past, and that's where it will stay
and in the present, we have to find a better way.
for the present will soon be our past
and if we don't do something, it will not last.
we must always look to the future
for it is only twenty four hours away
then it will be our past
and we have so much to do and say.
when i look at life, i truely have to laugh
today is our future and tomorrow it'll be our past.
now that i have you confused as to what i am
trying to say.
i guess i will try' to put it a better way'.
we all tend to procrastinate
always leaving it for tomorrow.
but! what if you don't see tomorrow.
and today you did'nt accomplish that task
how will you be remembered
if the present you left for last.
when we leave this material world
and our souls soar up in the sky
we will still have our memories
and that we can rely.
for when we get up there(if we do)
your soul will have carried all that you did
in this life
and the memories of friends, family
husband, or wife.
now when you look down on all that you had did
and asking yourself the question.
did i use my time, the way it was
meant to be?
or did i procrastinate, that others now speak of me?
we all have to work in order to survive.
but we must stop on occasion to smell the flowers.
and to enjoy all that we was given
otherwise how can you call this living.
(my thoughts: the words and stories were given to me.
so that i could write them down, for al the world to see.)
this is my philosophy.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I move very slowly. It's usually material first. I sit with the material for a long time.
quote by Jim Hodges
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The White Heat
Dare you see a Soul at the White Heat?
Then crouch within the door --
Red -- is the Fire's common tint --
But when the vivid Ore
Has vanquished Flame's conditions,
It quivers from the Forge
Without a color, but the light
Of unanointed Blaze.
Least Village has its Blacksmith
Whose Anvil's even ring
Stands symbol for the finer Forge
That soundless tugs -- within --
Re[f]ining these impatient Ores
With Hammer, and with Blaze
Untile the Designated Light
Repudiate the Forge
poem by Emily Dickinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The thing is, it really did take us too long to get these recordings done. We've had our rough times in the studio in the past, but after four weeks most of the material would have been recorded. This time it seemed like it just goes on and on.
quote by Ed O'Brien
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The main issue was deciding what to play: Should it be old Ramones material or new material? I had about three albums worth of new material, but I knew that people would rather hear the Ramones songs.
quote by Dee Dee Ramone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!