The hardened mass of liquid stones had much stronger qualities than those which had simply torn. The skin remained a recognisable part of the molten stone.
quote by Andy Goldsworthy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Molten or metallic marvels
I really truly don't know why
some things under the sun and sky
attract and catch my fancy
Quite queerly they happen to be
hot melting smelting solids
that melt into exquisite liquids.
Take for instance heated liquid gold
molten glass or molten brass
and to watch magma 'neath the earth's fold
Ooh I love just about any melting mass.
With similar bizarre ecstasy and fascination
do I always watch onscreen molten lava
Gliding in serpentine turns, oblivious of my admiration
Ah, I just love all that golden molten mass
Sometimes I even have such an eccentric craving
to watch just any solid beauty melting smelting
that I satisfy this craving by simply imagining
the honey to be some liquid fire gold
in a crystal clear jar and liken it to
a metallic gold syrup in the furnace burning
As if it were stagnant mini-lava
right before me glowing!
As for other mesmeric things
that I find real eye-catching
are those which everybody else finds ravishing.
And they are in all shine
dazzling diamond dust
Magical celestial stardust
Glittery terrestrial gold dust
in mankind's metallic materialistic lust.!
But I, I am allergic to dust. ;)
poem by S.zaynub Kamoonpuri
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The Stone That You Love
you are unique
for having loved a stone
how did the stone
entice you?
are you seduced by
its silence?
are you tempted by
its solitude?
you take the pain
poking the stone to
your heart
and you bleed
you rub the stone
in the skin of your body
hoping that someday
the stone may have
feelings and
love you
but this is all useless
the stone is a stone is a stone
and there is no love
in its blank stare
there is no softness in its
belly
i ponder upon this
and come to think of it
you and the stone
are the same
on this hardheadedness
this futility
this numbness
this suffering without end
the stone can never give
a part of its cracks
it will never part with its
dust
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Pavement Stones :A Song of the Unemployed
WHEN first I came to town, resolved
To fight my way alone,
No prouder foot than mine e’er trod
Upon the pavement stone;
But I am one in thousands,
And why should I repine?
The pavement stones have broken springs
In stronger feet than mine.
I brought to aid me all the hope
And energy of youth;
And in my heart I felt the strength
Of plain bucolic truth:
The independence nourished
Amid the hills and trees—
But, ah! the city hath a cure
For qualities like these.
I wonder oft how e’er I made
The efforts that I made,
For after three long weary years
I taught myself a trade.
And two more years and I was free
With strength and hope elate,
For “he that hath a trade,” they say,
“Hath also an estate.”
I tramped the streets and looked for work
And begged for work in vain,
Until I recked not, though I ne’er
Might touch my tools again.
I tramped the streets despairing;
My cheeks grew white and thin;
I felt the pavement wearing through
The leather, sock, and skin.
The bitter war goes on between
The idlers and the drones,
Until the hearts of men grow cold
And hard as pavement stones;
But I am one amid the crowd,
Then why should I repine?
The pavement stones have broken springs
In stronger feet than mine.
poem by Henry Lawson
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People are not recognisable, but places have to be recognisable.
quote by Ann Robinson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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About Us......
our sensitivities
grow in a glass house
hardened
by incoming stones
who is afraid of the pieces
of broken glasses?
our wrists are experienced
sufferers
they heal themselves in
due time
we know what the word
endure means
by heart
we are devoured somehow
but still whole
in those vomits
do they find us bitter pills?
don't they know that we are the cure
of those unreasonable fears?
those stones turn out
to be marshmallows getting more
delicious looking
at the flames
on those cold evenings
beneath the
darkness in the forest
we eats stones
no longer afraid of indigestion
our guts
have kept the morning glories
glorious gods
with hardened walls
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The sand stones had fragments of charcoal on some surfaces but found no recognisable fossils.
quote by George Mercer Dawson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Air is a Root
The air is a root.
The stones are filled with tenderness. bravo.
bravo. the stones are filled with air.
the stones are watery branches.
on the stones replacing the mouth
grows the skeleton of a leaf. bravo.
A stone voice face to face and foot to foot
with a stone glance.
the stones are tormented like flesh
the stones are clouds for their second
nature dances to them on their third nose.
bravo. bravo.
when the stones scratch themselves, nails grow
on the roots. bravo. bravo.
the stones woke to eat the exact
hour
Torn Butterfly
Torn butterfly torn butterfly
Seeing you there it makes me cry
Torn butterfly your wings they tore
From the weight that they bore
Torn butterfly it's plain to see
That you are just the same as me
Torn butterfly the world is tough
Hard as stones and just as rough
Torn butterfly I know your pain
And I don't want to know it again
Torn butterfly come join me now
And we'll regain our wings somehow
Torn butterfly it's sad but true
In death our wings become brand new
Torn butterfly just fade away
And we will fly this very day
Torn butterfly this note I send
And hope that you will cause your end
So we can fly in clear blue skies
Where no one hurts and no one cries
Torn butterfly with my last breath
I ask you to come join me in death
poem by Anonymous Ghurl
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The Love That You Have
The love that you had
In your heart is gone
Any touch of sincerity
Any trace of compassion
What hardened your heart?
What turned it to stone?
What made you forget?
You were in love with someone
Your hands dont reach out
Your voice doesnt call me
I know youve stopped listening
Your eyes look straight through me
If nights are like this
Id rather be alone
Who said you could forget
You were in love with someone?
Tell me what hardened your heart
Tell me what turned it to stone
Tell me what made you forget
You were in love with someone
Was I wrong to forgive
Your indiscretions?
Should I have been more hysterical
Less understanding?
If youre looking for a villain
Go on assume the role
But dont say that its my fault
That youre not in love with someone
Tell me what hardened your heart
Tell me what turned it to stone
Tell me what made you forget
You were in love with someone
Tell me theres someone in your life
Ill fight to keep your for my own
Tell me because I really want to know
Why you cant be in love with someone
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All Alone
She died in a house
Empty and alone.
They found her there
As cold as a stone.
A stone knows its place.
It stays on the ground.
But it's never alone.
Other stones are around.
But a woman alone
Who simply dies
Is out of place
'Cause no one cries.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Production Line
much is much and
so many is like sand sprawling
on the shore... so much so many
and one who lays her body on
the sandy shore
takes sand for granted just another
part of this mass production of
things in her ordinary world: rocks, pebbles, stones,
sands,
what value can there be on a speck of dust
a grain of sand
becomes like her sun, too ordinary for her sunburn-skin
what's got the sun to do with me?
or the sand?
her sunglasses speak for her
in the middle of her empty hours
basking under the sun
production some times, so much for so many
meaninglessness growing like fruits of the poisonous tree
i could have kept one, just one
kept it inside my heart, i could have known what is precious,
diamond, just one,
glittering in the darkest hour of my night.
but there is no one really, all i have are mass produced, and
like sand, i lay my body on the shore, spreading so thinly without
feelings.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Heavy Echoes
Married to the world
Anger echoes circular
Without end
Like a ring.
Steeped in disgust
The skin of a mass
without bombs
explodes.
Earth arches her back
She turns up the heat
Spits up the ocean
She stands to her feet.
A battle, a battlefield
The worst form of crime
Mass murder, revenge
or simply pastime.
The horror fuels madness
The dead never cry
We'll always remember
The days that they die.
13-7-05
poem by Laura Russell
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You Put Something Better Inside Me
(Rafferty/Egan)
I can look out my window
Or stare at the wall
It really didn't matter
Na, I just didn't care at all
Could be sitting by the water
Counting every stone
But nothing means nothing
When your empty and on your own
Cause you put something better
Inside of me
You put something better
Inside of me
Makes me so much stronger
I'm amazed at the change in me
Well I knew what I was doing
I was running away
Busy going nowhere
Just wasting the time of day
I was walking down the road
Kicking at the stones
Nothing means nothing
When your empty and on your own
Know why?
You put something better inside of me
Makes me so much stronger
I'm amazed at the change in me
You put something better inside of me
Makes me so much stronger
I'm amazed at the change in me
You made me so much stronger
I'm amazed at the change in me
Take me home
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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You Put Something Better Inside Of Me
(rafferty/egan)
I can look out my window
Or stare at the wall
It really didnt matter
Na, I just didnt care at all
Could be sitting by the water
Counting every stone
But nothing means nothing
When your empty and on your own
Cause you put something better
Inside of me
You put something better
Inside of me
Makes me so much stronger
Im amazed at the change in me
Well I knew what I was doing
I was running away
Busy going nowhere
Just wasting the time of day
I was walking down the road
Kicking at the stones
Nothing means nothing
When your empty and on your own
Know why?
You put something better inside of me
Makes me so much stronger
Im amazed at the change in me
You put something better inside of me
Makes me so much stronger
Im amazed at the change in me
You made me so much stronger
Im amazed at the change in me
Take me home
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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To The House
I am heaping the bones of the old mother
To build us a hold against the host of the air;
Granite the blood-heat of her youth
Held molten in hot darkness against the heart
Hardened to temper under the feet
Of the ocean cavalry that are maned with snow
And march from the remotest west.
This is the primitive rock, here in the wet
Quarry under the shadow of waves
Whose hollows mouthed the dawn; little house each stone
Baptized from that abysmal font
The sea and the secret earth gave bonds to affirm you.
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Stone
A stone
I am,
A stone
You are.
Both of us
Are stones
To each other.
Breaking the stones
And reconciling....
Why bother?
Were we not in
Endless pain…
When together?
poem by Aparna Chatterjee
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Migration
Migration
In this rich flat landscape there are no stones they had to
travel to the far mountain and with mule and cart it was
a long arduous journey. Stones were only used as base for
houses and as grave stones, but since these were stolen
so this practice ended, the dead had to do with wooden
crosses which tend to rot when it rains. Farmers buried
their stones under a mass of soil, for safety mounds of
them dotted the flat landscape and made it less monotone.
Modern time, a railway line stretches across the land and
ends in a haze were the mountain begins, stones are now
a common thing, way, all and sundry has one, the poorest
even have gravelled strewn back yards. A clever man decided
to open a rise and sell stones a souvenir as a memory of
the past, when life was idyllic, but he found a mass grave,
not only human skeletons but also household goods, toys
and musical instruments.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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The Wall!
Why persist?
Why do not you gave up after all?
Do you not see how this wall
that you try to fall apart
is brick and stone?
Stronger?
Oldest?
Do you think
that your torment, your pain
soften its contours?
Adorn your stone walls?
Do not you see that
is brick and stone?
Fall one day?
Just the sound it will do
Just like in Jericho!
Be Mute!
Be Inert!
Dead!
We thank you!
Leave Us !
Tears to shed
comes from fleeting moment!
But if water is strong,
violent stream
A river meeting the sea!
you reveal the way for us
And when you're
Tired and all the work already done
Allow us navigate your river bed.
bricks and stones on our head!
poem by Mirna Morgan
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The Gifts Of Medusa...
we may think that those she turned
to stone
hate her, but how do we know?
we haven't hears yet
any stone talking?
sometimes i wonder
stones are happier for whatever happened
i need to know those stories before
the turning
for sometimes i think
that Medusa is a gift, there are those
who, in reality, have become stones
but never really come out
in the open.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Gift Of Medusa (clerical Correction As Requested By Candice Salazar, , , Thanks)
we may think that those she turned
to stone
hate her, but how do we know?
we haven't heard yet
any stone talking?
sometimes i wonder
stones are happier for whatever happened
i need to know those stories before
the turning
for sometimes i think
that Medusa is a gift, there are those
who, in reality, have become stones
but never really come out
in the open.....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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