Do what you love. Know your own bone; gnaw at it, bury it, unearth it, and gnaw it still.
quote by Henry David Thoreau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
They only feel real when...
‘they only feel real when
pretending to be themselves…’
sometimes, psychology and poetry and philosophy
come close together; and like a dog
meeting another dog for the first time,
we’re cautious – that statement has legs
and claws and teeth … do we want to meet it,
might it be more fierce than it looks,
is it that ‘too much truth’ which mankind - says poor Tom -
cannot bear?
our tails quarter-wag, wag and stop,
our weight’s on our back legs,
caution is advised..
we’ll back away right now,
wait for the next meeting;
meanwhile, there’s always the tree to sniff,
a sharp reminder of the bone we’ll gnaw,
hide, dig up yet again, and gnaw…
gnawing on our own blood not the bone,
living a dog’s life, a dogged life,
mongrel, thoroughbred, alike:
.
only feeling real, when
pretending to be ourselves.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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You can't teach an old dog how to gnaw a bone.
Marcabre Dance For A Dead Mouse, After Robert Burns and Theodore Roethke
.
O little mouse, why dost thou cry
While merry stars laugh in the sky? - Sarojini Naidu
Wee brisket.
Gray fodder.
Thou art today tossed down
fat with grain.
Teeth sing to poison,
paws dance behind walls
taunting cat's tongue and
my impatient demand
'gainst thy nightly
gnaw gnaw
gnawing
Now brace for leaves.
Tossed from back porch to woods
Thy ballet's done, bitter fey.
Sun's up, swan song,
The cat play thee for a meal!
Wheel the poison again!
Swell fellow's passed on!
Reel, poison, reel!
poem by Warren Falcon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Prophet
The prophet of isolation
Fascinated by loves incarnations
With inspiration from every cursing bliss
With tears in every closed fist
Voices confused, melodies in charge
She wants to get out from the practicing alarm
Torn in pieces, with a child’s cry
Reviving my foggy fall
Beside, inside, without
My vanishing sound
Can’t you hear I’m fading away?
On the market of smiles and cries
Torture orange, torture blue
They disturb the balance of her wiev
Strange circles on every photo
Black color that starts to gnaw
A hand, broking my neck
Whispering to my shadow
Licking up my blood
Writing with it on my arms
With its head inside me
Meanwhile it gnaw on my heart
Its eyes tell me...
I’m back at the start
poem by Not A Dream Choice
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I keep going over a sentence. I nag it, gnaw it, pat and flatter it.
quote by Janet Flanner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chasing a Mirage
Emotions gnaw when raw,
For we look for perfection,
Overlooking our flaws.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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It is better to hear the nightingale sing than the mouse gnaw.
Some mornings it just doesn't seem worth it to gnaw through the leather straps.
quote by Emo Phillips
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's a poor mouse that sits on the sack and doesn't gnaw.
Care shall gnaw thy heart if thou canst not tell all thy mind to another.
Another Kind Of Epitaph
The time I died first, there were days upon days
while you cried, remembering my unique ways.
I rose up and up high above the cemetery wall
while then I could fly and everything beneath looked small,
but back to mother earth I had to go, where I felt the new rain
while very slow, worms on me started to gnaw without any pain.
When my next funeral came, you graciously wanted to put me to sleep
you did not want the general type of burial where they would bury me deep
but to the fire you wanted me to go, to experience the flames of hell
and over the sea, the veldt my ashes you did blow and with tears wished me well.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Bury Me Now!
bury me now,
at the feet of your freedom.
bury me now,
in the bowl of your hunger.
bury me now,
in the healing balm.
bury me now,
in the hand that comforts.
bury me now,
at the foot of the birthing bed.
bury me now,
in the march for peace.
bury me now,
let my body be the bridge.
bury me now,
and give names to the faces!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Sporous
Red September path covered in kisses
Autumn abandon
Abandoning what you ask as your teeth strip and gnaw
my flesh
Bruise-clouds flambéed for days
Stained as if I had gone berserk in a perfumery
Trying on too much
Discrimination
The swallows see the pigeons with fears.
The tigers chase and gnaw the meek deers.
The Jasmine laughs at the rose.
The sea gets up the land's nose.
Should the wise man reduce the folks to tears?
poem by Rajendran Muthiah
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Marble Tulip Juicy Tree
[studio version appears on "god ween satan: the oneness"]
Great...it would be the greatest thing
I don't know you you are, i don't know who you want to be
When i carbonate the test tube, then you won't see me
I've got a twin cab diesel combo, it takes me where i want to go
And all the nuphies are happy, they know of a fungus that grow
So when you see hoecke's mind screw don't come running to me
'cause i will scream and set aflame marble tulip juicy tree
Marble tulip juicy tree -- it's where i want to be
When i gnaw on the tulip it'll wish that it was me
Every morning i put my shoes on and i think about she
Who controls the four seasons inhaling kitties in the see
It's like a noodle in a salad -- little birdy wants to be set free-ee
I drill the corpse lobe with my mommy -- marble tulip juicy tree
So this song's about the loving thing that you are to me
Just stay away from my adenoids and marble tulip juicy tree
Marble tulip juicy tree -- it's where i want to be
When i gnaw on the tulip it'll wish that it was me
Look now i hold the world in my hands
Whoo, seems like awakened trance
Up on the hill, down by the river
By the ocean across the field
By the word of the boognish
I said, "lordy, lord, lord, i'm comin' home"
In a dream, said he was coming
Boognish was risin'
Up from the mist.......
[more inaudible ranting]
Whoo!
song performed by by Ween
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Illicit Intimacies...
an intimacy
(an euphemism for something else)
maximized in
fifteen or so
minutes is equivalent to
a lifetime of shame
and regret
(an overstatement of
cowardice)
and so the die is cast,
I'd better be alone
and happy
but you may follow me
so that we can be professional
loners
together
who knows if the curse of law
tomorrow
shall gnaw?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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