Our way is not soft grass, it's a mountain path with lots of rocks. But it goes upward, forward, toward the sun.
quote by Ruth Westheimer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Path
THERE are no beaten paths to Glory's height,
There are no rules to compass greatness known;
Each for himself must cleave a path alone,
And press his own way forward in the fight.
Smooth is the way to ease and calm delight,
And soft the road Sloth chooseth for her own;
But he who craves the flower of life full-blown,
Must struggle up in all his armor dight!
What though the burden bear him sorely down
And crush to dust the mountain of his pride,
Oh, then, with strong heart let him still abide;
For rugged is the roadway to renown,
Nor may he hope to gain the envied crown
Till he hath thrust the looming rocks aside.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Life As A Mountain
He stands at the bottom of the mountain.
The one he plans to climb.
He knows it'll have it's challenges,
And will take a lot of time.
So he beings his journey,
He tires very quick.
But the man, he journeys on,
The climb will be epic.
A week has passed, the man is lost,
But he does not dismay.
For he knows that he will reach the peak,
And looks forward to that day.
The climb it does continue,
The terrain is very steep.
To climb the mountain was his promise,
And his promise he will keep.
As he ventures higher,
He comes across some snow.
He slips and falls and tumbles down.
Then back upward he does go.
The man's now bruised and battered,
Cuts on his arms and legs and chest.
On the battle for the mountain,
He knows he will get the best.
He comes up to a rock face wall.
It's thousands of feet high.
But he continues on his quest.
Knowing he could die.
Years have past, the man's now old,
He continues to the peak.
His determination the strongest now,
But his body is frail and weak.
And then one day, he reached the top.
He was the happiest of men.
He said in a soft and gentle voice.
I'd surely do this again.
For our life is like a mountain.
Keep climbing and don't stop.
You'll not regret the climb you faced,
When you're standing on the top.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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Get Your Rocks Off
by Bob Dylan
You know, there's two ol' maids layin' in the bed,
One picked herself up an' the other one, she said:
"Get your rocks off!
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off-a me! (Get 'em off!)"
Well, you know, there late one night up on Blueberry Hill,
One man turned to the other man and said, with a blood-curdlin' chill, he said:
"Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off-a me! (Get 'em off!)"
Well, you know, we was layin' down around Mink Muscle Creek,
One man said to the other man, he began to speak, he said:
"Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off-a me! (Get 'em off!)"
Well, you know, we was cruisin' down the highway in a Greyhound bus.
All kinds-a children in the side road, they was hollerin' at us, sayin':
"Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off! (Get 'em off!)
Get your rocks off-a me!
song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cleveland Rocks
(ian hunter)
Three! four!
Three! four!
Three! four!
(bunch of ah-ah-ahs here)
All this energy calling me
Back where it comes from
Its such a crude attitude
Its back where it belongs
All the little kids growing up on the skids are goin
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Jumpin (jean) gene genies, moody james deanies goin
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Mama knows but she dont care
Shes got her worries too
Seven kids and a phony affair
And the rent is due
All the little chicks with the crimson lips go
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Shes livinin sin with a safety pin
Shes goin cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
I got some records from world war two
Ill play em just like me grand dad do
He was a rocker and I am too
Oh cleveland rocks, yeah cleveland rocks
So find a place
Grab a space
And yell and scream for more
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
Cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks, cleveland rocks
(bunch of ah-ah-ahs here)
Three! four!
Three! four!
Three! four!
Ohio
song performed by by Ian Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Upward and upward
I am first
You are second
Rest third.
Have you heard?
Comeforward
Here is our world.
Nothing soft
Nothing hard
Out life is to go
Upward and upward.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Shrine
Three rocks, rocks scorched, aged
In the undergrowth, they lie
Oblivious of time
Passed, histories made,
Unaware of ceremonies, done,
To be done
Here, between these rocks
The ashes, testimony, to sacrificial
Cattle and birds
Atop this mountain they,
Yes, they had come, and prayed,
And cleansed,
Their sons, who conquered
The, below picturesque land
That kisses Lake Victoria,
Yes,
This is the shrine
That the high priest would pray,
And harvest would be, and diseases would impede!
Here
In its mystic form I sit, cross my legs
Birds chirp, slithering are Lizards
Pssss! Thought I heard a serpent hiss
No!
Nothing, just what they said,
Here, green grass
Surrounding, grotesque rocks
Down a beautiful land spreads,
I descend!
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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Hero Stuff
The climbing high was stone by stone
bloodied hands and striated hearts
scattered behind on the trail;
some crying years
and many happy ones;
but our life has been to be sure an upward struggle
to mountain climb, one after another.
Yet at each boulder and rock you offered me
a rope and line
and each time lifted up
me along with your self.
How can a climber of rocks lift both self
and another, but you do so and have done.
This is hero stuff and you are mine.
Beaten back and beaten down you surpassed
all that
was placed in your path and humor greeted
each strife and set-back.
The twinkled eye-your mischievous grin-
took its place at every battle scene
and you emerged from smoke and hue
unscathed, both us and you.
This is hero stuff.
I lay down my Cloth of Gold in salute
for you to step upon
for I am sure your foot will only lightly touch-
nay float above-
not because you are divinity
but because you take life lightly as it comes-
good humor, allows you to float-
scaling every mountain such
that it becomes an adventure it seems
characterizing the scaling up
and that is because of you my dear.
You are hero stuff.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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If life’s a river
If life’s a river
Flowing on a course
Long proven to be the best way
To reach the sea, then flow on
If the rocks and boulders
Are the cross
Each one of us is given to bear
Let our river flow around rocks
Over time, the sharp edged rocks will
Be rounded by the rivers flow
Ever there, but not so jagged
As they were before
The ever changing banks have seen
A trickle grow into a youthful stream
And swelling into a mighty river
That sometimes mingles with another
Every river looks for a path
That’s less rocky, a shorter way to the sea
Ever quietly flowing
Ceaselessly searching
Until one day, when it is time
A new path opens
The river changes path
And yet, every river pours into the sea.
poem by Anita Atina
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Vestigia Nulla Retrorsum
O steep and rugged Life, whose harsh ascent
Slopes blindly upward through the bitter night!
They say that on thy summit, high in light,
Sweet rest awaits the climber, travel-spent;
But I, alas, with dusty garments rent,
With fainting heart and failing limbs and sight,
Can see no glimmer of the shining height,
And vainly list, with body forward bent,
To catch athwart the gloom one wandering note
Of those glad anthems which (they say) are sung
When one emerges from the mists below:
But though, O Life, thy summit be remote
And all thy stony path with darkness hung,
Yet ever upward through the night I go.
poem by William Gay
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Mountain Music
Words and music by randy owen
Chorus:
Oh, play me some mountain music, like grandma and grandpa used to play.
Then Ill float on down the river to a cajun hideaway
Drift away like tom sawyer, ride a raft with ol huck finn.
Take a nap like rip van winkle, daze dreamin again.
Chorus
Swim across the river, just to prove that Im a man.
Spend the day bein lazy, just bein natures friend.
Climb a long tall hickry. bend it over, skinnin cats.
Playin baseball with chert rocks, usin sawmill slabs for bats.
Bridge:
Play some back-home, come-on music that comes from the heart.
Play something with lots of feelin, cause thats where music has to start
Oh, play me some mountain music, like grandma and grandpa used to play.
Then Ill float on down the river to a cajun hideaway, hey hey.
Tag:
Oh play me mountain music
Oh play me mountain music
Oh play me mountain music
Oh play me mountain music
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Coloured Print by Shokei
It winds along the face of a cliff
This path which I long to explore,
And over it dashes a waterfall,
And the air is full of the roar
And the thunderous voice of waters which sweep
In a silver torrent over some steep.
It clears the path with a mighty bound
And tumbles below and away,
And the trees and the bushes which grow in the rocks
Are wet with its jewelled spray;
The air is misty and heavy with sound,
And small, wet wildflowers star the ground.
Oh! The dampness is very good to smell,
And the path is soft to tread,
And beyond the fall it winds up and on,
While little streamlets thread
Their own meandering way down the hill
Each singing its own little song, until
I forget that 't is only a pictured path,
And I hear the water and wind,
And look through the mist, and strain my eyes
To see what there is behind;
For it must lead to a happy land,
This little path by a waterfall spanned.
poem by Amy Lowell
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The Deer Lay Down Their Bones
I followed the narrow cliffside trail half way up the mountain
Above the deep river-canyon. There was a little cataract crossed the path,
flinging itself
Over tree roots and rocks, shaking the jeweled fern-fronds, bright bubbling
water
Pure from the mountain, but a bad smell came up. Wondering at it I clam-
bered down the steep stream
Some forty feet, and found in the midst of bush-oak and laurel,
Hung like a bird's nest on the precipice brink a small hidden clearing,
Grass and a shallow pool. But all about there were bones Iying in the grass,
clean bones and stinking bones,
Antlers and bones: I understood that the place was a refuge for wounded
deer; there are so many
Hurt ones escape the hunters and limp away to lie hidden; here they have
water for the awful thirst
And peace to die in; dense green laurel and grim cliff
Make sanctuary, and a sweet wind blows upward from the deep gorge.--I
wish my bones were with theirs.
But that's a foolish thing to confess, and a little cowardly. We know that life
Is on the whole quite equally good and bad, mostly gray neutral, and can
be endured
To the dim end, no matter what magic of grass, water and precipice, and
pain of wounds,
Makes death look dear. We have been given life and have used it--not a
great gift perhaps--but in honesty
Should use it all. Mine's empty since my love died--Empty? The flame-
haired grandchild with great blue eyes
That look like hers?--What can I do for the child? I gaze at her and wonder
what sort of man
In the fall of the world . . . I am growing old, that is the trouble. My chil-
dren and little grandchildren
Will find their way, and why should I wait ten years yet, having lived sixty-
seven, ten years more or less,
Before I crawl out on a ledge of rock and die snapping, like a wolf
Who has lost his mate?--I am bound by my own thirty-year-old decision:
who drinks the wine
Should take the dregs; even in the bitter lees and sediment
New discovery may lie. The deer in that beautiful place lay down their
bones: I must wear mine.
poem by Robinson Jeffers
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Light Between the Trees
Long, long, long the trail
Through the brooding forest-gloom,
Down the shadowy, lonely vale
Into silence, like a room
Where the light of life has fled,
And the jealous curtains close
Round the passionless repose
Of the silent dead.
Plod, plod, plod away,
Step by step in mouldering moss;
Thick branches bar the day
Over languid streams that cross
Softly, slowly, with a sound
In their aimless creeping
Like a smothered weeping,
Through the enchanted ground.
"Yield, yield, yield thy quest,"
Whispers through the woodland deep;
"Come to me and be at rest;
"I am slumber, I am sleep."
Then the weary feet would fail,
But the never-daunted will
Urges "Forward, forward still!
"Press along the trail!"
Breast, breast, breast the slope!
See, the path is growing steep.
Hark! a little song of hope
When the stream begins to leap.
Though the forest, far and wide,
Still shuts out the bending blue,
We shall finally win through,
Cross the long divide.
On, on, onward tramp!
Will the journey never end?
Over yonder lies the camp;
Welcome waits us there, my friend.
Can we reach it ere the night?
Upward, upward, never fear!
Look, the summit must be near;
See the line of light!
Red, red, red the shine
Of the splendour in the west,
Glowing through the ranks of pine,
Clear along the mountain-crest!
Long, long, long the trail
Out of sorrow's lonely vale;
But at last the traveller sees
Light between the trees!
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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The Path
walking the path...
uphill, downhill,
winding amid the rocks,
leaving behind
footprints in the sand
that the wind erases...
sometimes side by side,
often alone... with no map,
no compass to point the way.
it's different for each of us;
no one else can do it for us.
this journey of the spirit
discovering itself...
and that which we call 'God'.
often lonely... we fight our way
forward for those moments
of epiphany.... when all of life
appears in a dropp of rain...
or a child's tears.
walking the path,
sun shining on my back...
a few clouds float unchained
in the limitless sky....
they, too, pilgrims going
to the feast....
walk with me?
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Magnolia Mountain
I want to go to Magnolia Mountain
And lay my weary head down
Down on the rocks
On the mountain my savior made
Steady my soul and ease my worry
Hold me when I rattle like a hummingbird hummin'
Tie me to the rocks on the mountain my savior made
Lie to me
Sing me a song
Sing me a song until the morning comes
If the morning comes, will you lie to me
Will you take me to your bed
Will you lay me down
Till I'm heavy like the rocks on the riverbed
That my savior made
I want to be the bluebird singing
Singing to the roses in her yard
The roses in her yard her father grew for her
It's been raining that Tennessee honey
So long I got too heavy to fly
Ain't no bluebird ever gets too heavy to sing
Lie to me
Sing me a song
Sing me a song until the morning comes
And if the morning don't come, will you lie to me
Will you take me to your bed
Will you lay me down
Till I'm heavy like the rocks in the riverbed
That my savior made
We burned the cotton fields down in the valley
And ended up with nothing but scars
The scars became the lessons that we gave to our children after the war
But there ain't nothing but the truth up on the Magnolia Mountain
Where nobody ever dies
Steady your soul and ease your worry
They got a room for you
Lie to me like I lie to you
Calm me down until the morning comes
And if the morning don't come
Lie to me
Will you take me to your bed
Will you lay me down
All heavy like the rocks in the riverbed
That my savior made
For us
song performed by by Ryan Adams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No Time
By hank cicalo
Hober reeber sabasoben
Hobaseeba snick
Seeberraber hobosoben
What did you expect?
No time, no time for you.
I got no time, baby,
Got lots of better things to do.
Runnin from the risin heat
To find a place to hide,
The grass is always greener
Growin on the other side.
No time, no time for you
I got no time, baby,
Got lots of better things to do.
[instrumental riff]
No time, no time for you
I got no time, baby,
Got lots of better things to do.
[instrumental riff]
No time, no time for you
I got no time, baby,
Got lots of better things to do.
Tryin to tell the world
Somehow of how I feel.
Tell me what you said again,
I cant believe its real.
No time, no time for you
I got no time, baby,
Got lots of better things to do.
Andy, youre a dandy,
You dont seem to make no sense.
Nevermind the furthermore,
The plea is self-defense
No time, no time for you
I got no time, baby,
Got lots of better things to do.
Got no time
I got no time
[repeat, adlib and fade]
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where Are The Lionheart
Destiny took me in her arms and told me:
"You're a little lost on the fall.
You fall for all the men
You shouldn't fall for all at all."
Ooh, I know she knows, but still I go on,
Well, I'm a fool.
Climbing up the ladders
To slide down the adders
On the rocks,
On the rocks,
On the rocks,
On the rocks...
Joan of Arc walks into my mirror,
A burning sword.
I'd like to cry.
I look into her eyes.
I see she's seen the long days and night.
"Ooh," she says,
"The games are still the same, I see,
But they've changed the names now.
Are all Lionhearts put in parks, apart?"
Lionhearts in the asylums,
Lionhearts tossed at sea,
Lionhearts who've lived their lives, like Arthur.
Lionhearts in cathedrals,
Lionhearts at mournings,
Lionhearts in every seed
But they're sown
On the rocks,
On the rocks,
On the rocks,
On the rocks...
Somebody I couldn't see
Tied me up and put me away,
Here on the rocks,
Here on the rocks,
Here on the rocks...
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Rocks
I was a timid little antelope;
My home was in the rocks, the lonely rocks.
I saw the hunters scouring on the plain;
I lived among the rocks, the lonely rocks.
I was a-thirsty in the summer-heat;
I ventured to the tents beneath the rocks.
Zuleikah brought me water from the well;
Since then I have been faithless to the rocks.
I saw her face reflected in the well;
Her camels since have marched into the rocks.
I look to see her image in the well;
I only see my eyes, my own sad eyes.
My mother is alone among the rocks.
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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Forward
'Forward! forward!'
Rang our fathers' battle-cry.
'Forward! forward!'
Norsemen, be our watchword high!
All that fires the spirit and makes the heart's faith bright,
For that we forward go with might
And faithful fight.
'Forward! forward!'
Whoso loves a home that's free.
'Forward! forward!'
Freedom's course must ever be.
Though it shall be tested by doubt and by defeat,
Who will the losses' count repeat
When vict'ries greet?
'Forward! forward!'
Whoso trusts in Norway's day.
'Forward! forward!'
Whoso goes our fathers' way.
Hid in Northern mountains are spirit-treasures true
They shall, when dawns the morning's blue,
Come forth anew.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
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September Grass
Well, the suns not so hot in the sky today
And you know I can see summertime slipping on away
A few more geese are gone, a few more leaves turning red
But the grass is as soft as a feather in a featherbed
So Ill be king and youll be queen
Our kingdoms gonna be this little patch of green
Wont you lie down here right now
In this september grass
Wont you lie down with me now
September grass
Oh the memory is like the sweetest pain
Yeah, I kissed the girl at a football game
I can still smell the sweat and the grass stains
We walked home together. I was never the same.
But that was a long time ago
And where is she now? I dont know
Wont you lie down here right now
In this september grass
Wont you lie down with me now
September grass
Oh, september grass is the sweetest kind
It goes down easy like apple wine
Hope you dont mind if I pour you some
Made that much sweeter by the winter to come
Do you see those ants dancing on a blade of grass?
Do you know what I know? thats you and me, baby
Were so small and the worlds so vast
We found each other down in the grass
Wont you lie down with me right here
September grass
Wont you lie down with me now
In this september grass
Lie down
Lie down
Lie down
Lie down
(repeat)
Wont you lie down here right now
In this september grass
Wont you lie down here now
In this september grass
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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