The Donkey
When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood,
Then surely I was born;
With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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Related quotes
The Donkey
When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born.
With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Donkey
When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born;
With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Fairy Tale
All things grew upwards, foul and fair:
The great trees fought and beat the air
With monstrous wings that would have flown;
But the old earth clung to her own,
Holding them back from heavenly wars,
Though every flower sprang at the stars.
But he broke free: while all things ceased,
Some hour increasing, he increased.
The town beneath him seemed a map,
Above the church he cocked his cap,
Above the cross his feather flew
Above the birds and still he grew.
The trees turned grass; the clouds were riven;
His feet were mountains lost in heaven;
Through strange new skies he rose alone,
The earth fell from him like a stone,
And his own limbs beneath him far
Seemed tapering down to touch a star.
He reared his head, shaggy and grim,
Staring among the cherubim;
The seven celestial floors he rent,
One crystal dome still o'er him bent:
Above his head, more clear than hope,
All heaven was a microscope.
poem by G.K. Chesterton from The Wild Knight and Other Poems (1900)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Tattered & Torn
Tattered and torn
Tattered and torn
Thats where my soul is worn
Tattered and torn
Thats when I was born
Tattered and torn
I broke away from me
Tattered and torn
I knocked me to my knees
Tattered and torn
I drink my own cells
Tattered and torn
A decomposing well
Tattered and torn
Roaches in my head
Tattered and torn
I become the living dead
Tattered and torn
Tearing myself apart from the
Things that make me hurt
song performed by by Slipknot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tattered and Torn
Tattered and Torn
That's where my soul is worn
Tattered and Torn
That's when I was born
Tattered and Torn
I broke away from me
Tattered and Torn
I knocked me to my knees
Tattered and Torn
I drink my own cells
Tattered and Torn
A decomposing well
Tattered and Torn
Roaches in my head
Tattered and Torn
I become the living dead
Tattered and Torn
Tearing myself apart from the
things that make me hurt
song performed by by Slipknot from Slipknot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slouching Towards Bethlehem
Turning and turning
Within the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer
Things fall apart
The center cannot hold
And a blood dimmed tide
Is loosed upon the world
Nothing is sacred
The ceremony sinks
Innocence is drowned
In anarchy
The best lack conviction
Given some time to think
And the worst are full of passion
Without mercy
Surely some revelation is at hand
Surely it's the second coming
And the wrath has finally taken form
For what is this rough beast
Its hour come at last
Slouching towards Bethlehem to be born
Slouching towards Bethlehem to be born
Hoping and hoping
As if by my weak faith
The spirit of this world
Would heal and rise
Vast are the shadows
That straddle and strafe
And struggle in the darkness
Troubling my eyes
Shaped like a lion
It has the head of a man
With a gaze as blank
And pitiless as the sun
And it's moving its slow thighs
Across the desert sands
Through dark indignant
Reeling falcons
Surely some revelation is at hand
Surely it's the second coming
And the wrath has finally taken form
For what is this rough beast
Its hour come at last
Slouching towards Bethlehem to be born
Slouching towards Bethlehem to be born
Raging and raging
It rises from the deep
Opening its eyes
After twenty centuries
Vexed to a nightmare
Out of a stony sleep
By a rocking cradle
By the Sea of Galilee
Surely some revelation is at hand
Surely it's the second coming
And the wrath has finally taken form
For what is this rough beast
Its hour come at last
Slouching towards Bethlehem to be born
Slouching towards Bethlehem to be born
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slouching Toward Bethlehem
Based on a poem by w.b. yeats
Turning and turning
Within the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer
Things fall apart
The center cannot hold
And a blood dimmed tide
Is loosed upon the world
Nothing is sacred
The ceremony sinks
Innocence is drowned
In anarchy
The best lack conviction
Given some time to think
And the worst are full of passion
Without mercy
Surely some revelation is at hand
Surely its the second coming
And the wrath has finally taken form
For what is this rough beast
Its hour come at last
Slouching towards bethlehem to be born
Slouching towards bethlehem to be born
Hoping and hoping
As if by my weak faith
The spirit of this world
Would heal and rise
Vast are the shadows
That straddle and strafe
And struggle in the darkness
Troubling my eyes
Shaped like a lion
It has the head of a man
With a gaze as blank
And pitiless as the sun
And its moving its slow thighs
Across the desert sands
Through dark indignant
Reeling falcons
Surely some revelation is at hand
Surely its the second coming
And the wrath has finally taken form
For what is this rough beast
Its hour come at last
Slouching towards bethlehem to be born
Slouching towards bethlehem to be born
Raging and raging
It rises from the deep
Opening its eyes
After twenty centuries
Vexed to a nightmare
Out of a stony sleep
By a rocking cradle
By the sea of galilee
Surely some revelation is at hand
Surely its the second coming
And the wrath has finally taken form
For what is this rough beast
Its hour come at last
Slouching towards bethlehem to be born
Slouching towards bethlehem to be born
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sister Sara
Now I don't know but I've been told
There's a nun having fun and she lost her soul
She's got cash, she got laid
Now she's dealin' with me and she's gonna get paid
She got caught with the bishop
She got caught with the abbot
Even cardinal sin tried to feed her habit
Now we get whores and pimps and skanks
But when your judgement came down even
He gave thanks
Whatever happened to me
Can't remember my name
Flying so high on angelic wings
Flew too close to the flame
Sister Sara
It's your penalty for eternity
Did you think that you were saved
You forget your old identity who you used to be
Sister Sara
So depraved
Moment to moment
Hour to hour
We'll be together
Oh, come O ye faithless
Get in line
You're gonna drown in the water
Turned to wine
And you're all going to wallow
When you sin and shame
You had every opportunity to call His name
Don't look surprised
Don't be in shock
You'll be a lovely little demon in my private stock
I'm just doing my job to pull you down
Cuz it's a one way ticket down to Dragontown
You got caught in my web
You made your own bed here
And now you must keep me well fed
You're mine
Too bad
You're here for me
You're just here for me
Sister Sara
It's your penalty for eternity
Did you think that you were saved
You forget your old identity who you used to be
Sister Sara
So depraved
Moment to moment
Hour to hour
We'll be together
Moment to moment
Hour to hour
Forever and ever
Time after time after time
Sister Sara
It's your penalty for eternity
D
song performed by by Alice Cooper
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Those Sweet Words
What did you say?
I know I saw you singing
But my ears won't stop ringing
Long enough to hear
Those sweet words
What did you say?
End of the day
The hour hand has spun
And before the night is done
I just have to hear
Those sweet words
Spoken like a melody
All your love
Is a lost balloon
Rising up through the afternoon
'Til it could fit on the head of a pin
Come on in
Did you have a hard time sleeping?
Cuz the heavy moon was keeping
Me awake, and all I know is
I'm just glad to
See you again
See my love
Like a lost balloon
Rising up
Through the afternoon, and
Then you appeared
What did you say?
I know I saw you singing
But my ears won't stop ringing
Long enough to hear
Those sweet words
And your simple melody
I just have to hear
Those sweet words
Skoken like a melody
I just want to hear
Those sweet words
song performed by by Norah Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Outlaw
(coverdale/lord/marsden)
When I left my home
I was not much more than a child,
My mother started crying
She knew that I was born to be wild
cos I was looking for the bright lights of the big city,
A red hot town where the girls are pretty
I took to the highway,
Chasing my dream down the line
Heading out for trouble,
Never finding my peace of mind
cos I been run out of town so many times before
An usually kind of places where I cant go back no more
Outlaw - born outside of the law,
Just another outlaw,
Man on the run will always take chances for fun
I never find it easy trying to keep the feeling alive,
Ive always been a dreamer,
Dreamers find it hard to survive
When theyre living in the bright lights of the big city,
A red hot town where the girls are pretty
Outlaw - born outside of the law,
Just another outlaw,
Man on the run will always take chances for fun
Outlaw - born outside of the law,
Just another outlaw,
Man on the run will always take chances for fun
Outlaw - born outside of the law,
Just another outlaw,
Man on the run will always take chances for fun
Born outside of the law,
Just another outlaw,
Man on the run will always take chances for fun
Outlaw, outlaw,
Man on the run will always take chances for fun
song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hour Of Gold
(Emmylou Harris)
I have seen your soul turn black
And then retreat
To that dark place where no one else may follow
I waited here for your returning
To roll your cigarette
And wash your bloodied feet
You have heard the silent running
Of my dreams
Broke me from the grip of grief and fever
With the sound of your voice speaking my name
And a kiss
That I will feel forever
In the hour of gold, the hour of lead
WG did forge our wedding bed
On a hard and holy road
We lay down our head
In tha hour of gold, the hour oi lead
I have watched you riding on
The wall of death
And when il finally breaks you and you fall
I will tear this dress of muslin that you gave me
To bind the fatal wound
And catch your last sweet breath
In the hour of gold, the hour of lead
We did forge our wedding bed
On a hard and holy road
We lay down our head
In the hour of gold, the hour of lead
But the world will be my witness when
They excavate my heart
And find the image of your face
Imprinted there like some Shroud of Turin
That neither time Nor tundra could erase
In the hour of gold, the hour of lead
We did forge our wedding bed
On a hard and holy road
We lay down our head
In the hour of gold, the hour of lead
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Escapism
The lines in our palms is our map
but we hold nothing but the moonshine
so this vacant abyss drenches our paths
like our empty hands, we meander
without any purpose at all
We learned the phantom's secret
in riveting themselves in forlorn circles
like the rain, we free fall and
when we slap the ground
we are water no longer
Still, your shadows perpetually traipse
back and forth my dark alleys
like a song effulgently whistling
promises in these aberrant ears
And in this times, the hour stops
the larcenous chase of our feet
to halt and stare upon the circles
disembogued by our fleets
You have never left at all.
poem by Norman Santos
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Tidings
THE darkness gripped us, hot, intense;
The sea snored like some sleeping brute;
We stood alert, with every sense
Like some leashed hound, nerve-thrilled, acute.
About us clammy dew made wet
The thin, green leaves and sleeping flowers;
Strained eyes against the night we set;
Strained ears, like open doors, were ours.
No sight! save when across the black
Broad breast of night fierce lightning tore
A ragged gash, a serpent track,
And thunder answered the sea's snore.
One sighed, and one would no more stand
At easeless rest, but drooping walked;
Then, though none spoke, one raised his hand
As if to silence tongues that talked.
We heard it! On the granite ground
It sounded nigh, and on the beach
It grew remote; upon that sound
With seeking eyes each questioned each.
Grouped close, like men of carven stone —
Chilled stone — we stood with rooted feet.
'He comes! What news?' Not hoofs alone
In that tense moment swiftly beat.
Cried one: 'Joy rides at such a pace,
Joy swift of hoof, and light as air!'
Said one — eyes sunk, and pallid face —
'So too, at times, rides dread Despair!'
We waited, vexed by dumb surmise,
Eyes wide, lips wide, tense faces white;
Ears served till ears gave place to eyes,
Sound likewise yielding unto sight.
He came with headlong speed and dash,
Fierce lightning lighting land and sea,
And in that red, revealing flash
He rose and shouted 'Victory!'
poem by Roderic Quinn
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The Philosopher
Who shall be our prophet then,
Chosen from all the sons of men
To lead his fellows on the way
Of hidden knowledge, delving deep
To nameless mysteries that keep
Their secret from the solar day!
Or who shall pierce with surer eye!
This shifting veil of bittersweet
And find the real things that lie
Beyond this turmoil, which we greet
With such a wasted wealth of tears?
Who shall cross over for us the bridge of fears
And pass in to the country where the ancient Mothers dwell?
Is it an elder, bent and hoar
Who, where the waste Atlantic swell
On lonely beaches makes its roar,
In his solitary tower
Through the long night hour by hour
Pores on old books with watery eye
When all his youth has passed him by,
And folly is schooled and love is dead
And frozen fancy laid abed,
While in his veins the gradual blood
Slackens to a marish flood?
For he rejoiceth not in the ocean's might,
Neither the sun giveth delight,
Nor the moon by night
Shall call his feet to wander in the haunted forest lawn.
He shall no more rise suddenly in the dawn
When mists are white and the dew lies pearly
Cold and cold on every meadow,
To take his joy of the season early,
The opening flower and the westward shadow,
And scarcely can he dream of laughter and love,
They lie so many leaden years behind.
Such eyes are dim and blind,
And the sad, aching head that nods above
His monstrous books can never know
The secret we would find.
But let our seer be young and kind
And fresh and beautiful of show,
And taken ere the lustyhead
And rapture of his youth be dead;
Ere the gnawing, peasant reason
School him over-deep in treason
To the ancient high estate
Of his fancy's principate,
That he may live a perfect whole,
A mask of the eternal soul,
And cross at last the shadowy bar
To where the ever-living are.
poem by Clive Staples Lewis
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I Cant Tell Of Myself
I cant tell of myself
Only you can tell me
Because i don't you think
Am bragging of self
Neither am i having
A foolish pride within me
Only you can tell me
The sweet things
We did together
Hope you could remember
Flying on the wings of the birds
We flew higher
Proved to you that
Blood is thicker than water
poem by Matt Ancient
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In the Midnight Hour
When we meet
in the midnight hour
country girl
I will bring you night flowers
coloured like your eyes
in the moonlight
in the midnight
hour
I remember
Your cold hand
held for a moment among strangers
held for a moment among dripping trees
in the midnight hour
I remember
Your eyes coloured like the autumn landscape
walking down muddy lanes
watching sheep eating yellow roses
walking in city squares in winter rain
kissing in darkened hallways
walking in empty suburban streets
saying goodnight in deserted alleyways
in the midnight hour
Andy Williams singing `We'll keep a Welcome in the
Hillsides' for us
When I meet you at the station
The Beatles singing `We Can Work it Out' with James
Ensor at the harmonium
Rita Hayworth in a nightclub singing `Arcade Mia'
I will send you armadas
of love vast argosies of flowers
in the midnight hour
country girl
when we meet
in the moonlight
midnight
hour
country girl
I will bring you
yellow
white
eyes
bright
moon
light
mid
night
flowers
in the midnight hour.
poem by Adrian Henri
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On The Life And Death Of Man
The world's a theatre. The earth, a stage
Placed in the midst: where both prince and page,
Both rich and poor, fool, wise man, base and high,
All act their parts in life's short tragedy.
Our life's a tragedy. Those secret rooms,
Wherein we 'tire us, are our mothers' wombs.
The music ushering in the play is mirth
To see a man-child brought upon the earth.
That fainting gasp of breath which first we vent,
Is a dumb show; presents the argument.
Our new-born cries, that new-born griefs bewray,
Are the sad prologue of the ensuing play.
False hopes, true fears, vain joys, and fierce distracts,
Are like the music that divides the Acts.
Time holds the glass, and when the hour's outrun,
Death strikes the epilogue, and the play is done.
poem by Francis Quarles
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Please Don't Stop Loving Me When I'm Old
Our love rose with the fall of golden leaves
rough winter roots for gentle plants in spring.
It seems we were planted in earth, grew together,
and blossomed together.
When I pass, place a rose petal on my grave.
Sweet love is born out of souls; outside winds whistles;
stars and moon twinkles…All God’s handmaids.
In obedient to my heart, I entrust me to you.
Now, let’s continue on down lover’s lane,
Walking alongside grass holding
Baby shrubs on her lap.
Straining our ears we hear bird
Singing songs of praise
Reminding us of the good old days.
When clouds no longer hold the rain;
will you shower me with your love?
When my head is covered with snow;
will you forever be my beau?
When my eyes cease to be my panes
Will your arms my cane,
Please don’t stop loving me because I’m old.
poem by Almedia Knight Oliver
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Cool Refuge
At last, a place to hide away, cool refuge from the sun...
Some solitude, a chance to stay, where nothing much gets done.
A perfect spot meant to beguile the busy beasts on Earth,
No more to worry for a while, for what is worry worth?
The sun was fierce and in his face. Too close for comfort, friend.
The tiger tried to slow the pace till he was on the mend...
And once his ears heard nothing new, he slowly closed his eyes
And lowly breathed and time just flew and caught him by surprise.
The sun had moved across the sky, now tired, in retreat.
The tiger didn't question why the sky eye lost its heat.
Enough to know his cool refuge would soon be cooler still...
His change in mood would then be huge and end this passing thrill.
The tiger tarried in repose with great tranquillity
And gently scratched his tickled nose with tingling ecstasy...
One final hour in the shade... his refuge then grew cold.
The sad decision must be made, now that the day grew old...
So up he stood, with strength renewed, recharged and vibrant now
And thankful for this interlude, vowed to return... somehow...
The poem is based on the magnificent painting
by Stephen Gayford called 'Cool Refuge'.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Tower of Souls
How tall is this tower
Filled to the brim
More and more each hour
Every new soul, Each grim.
I stand outside looking in
How soon before I'm inside looking out
No soul as I, full of sin
Wants to shout.
Does this tower expand
To allow others in
No room to stand
Like waste into a bin
Dark clouds overhead
Thunder rolls, lightening strikes
No rest, or sweet dreams in bed
Toss and turn, the devil likes.
'Roll up, roll up' the devil cries
'Something for everyone'
He shouts with no shame for his lies
So many souls, but you'r still alone.
Driving rain and tempest
Do you shelter at the tower?
When your mind is weakest
He calls every hour.
poem by Robert Green
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