The Madman - His Parables and Poems
You ask me how I became a madman. It happened thus: One day, long
before many gods were born, I woke from a deep sleep and found all
my masks were stolen,--the seven masks I have fashioned an worn in
seven lives,--I ran maskless through the crowded streets shouting,
'Thieves, thieves, the cursed thieves.'
Men and women laughed at me and some ran to their houses in fear
of me.
And when I reached the market place, a youth standing on a house-top
cried, 'He is a madman.' I looked up to behold him; the sun kissed
my own naked face for the first time. For the first time the sun
kissed my own naked face and my soul was inflamed with love for
the sun, and I wanted my masks no more. And as if in a trance I
cried, 'Blessed, blessed are the thieves who stole my masks.'
Thus I became a madman.
And I have found both freedom of loneliness and the safety from
being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in
us.
But let me not be too proud of my safety. Even a Thief in a jail
is safe from another thief.
poem by Khalil Gibran
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Related quotes
Some Spaces Some Silences
by being not confident
at first you may wear masks
lots of them
in different sizes
and colors
and you face yourself
with mirrors around you
and you laugh
this is very
interesting
I will not be hurt
I will even hurt
Them
Then
Someone comes
She loves you
And wants
The real you
And you love
Her
When the time
To make love
& kiss you
remove the masks
both of you
it is more exciting
than interesting
this time
the pain is stronger
too
it is the fairness
of hide and seek
that tells
about pain and pleasure
wearing masks and
removing them
making love and
undressing
naked both of
you feel something
more is concealed
this time
you go beyond
you peel skins
subcutaneously
the soul demands
no bodies as masks
and as you close
both of your eyes
and see what is
beyond these bodies
these subcutaneous masks
tell yourselves
beyond these bodies
there is still more
as true love so demands
some spaces some silences
between you and him
where God must dwell.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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41
by being not confident
at first you may wear masks
lots of them
in different sizes
and colors
and you face yourself
with mirrors around you
and you laugh
this is very
interesting
I will not be hurt
I will even hurt
Them
Then
Someone comes
She loves you
And wants
The real you
And you love
Her
When the time
To make love
& kiss you
remove the masks
both of you
it is more exciting
than interesting
this time
the pain is stronger
too
it is the fairness
of hide and seek
that tells
about pain and pleasure
wearing masks and
removing them
making love and
undressing
naked both of
you feel something
more is concealed
this time
you go beyond
you peel skins
subcutaneously
the soul demands
no bodies as masks
and as you close
both of your eyes
and see what is
beyond these bodies
these subcutaneous masks
tell yourselves
beyond these bodies
there is still more
as true love so demands
some spaces some silences
between you and him
where God must dwell.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Where Have Gone Those Masks?
Where have they gone?
All those masks of the past!
Many masks hiding faces of the ones clever.
One was of love pure,
Another was of friendship innocent
And another was of care entwining.
Those masks had a power
That mesmerised the weak minds for some time.
Where are those masks?
No one sells them as the marketeers
Don`t have much to fill the wallet
From these little transparent masks now.
Masked faces have faded out from amidst us all
And there walk many without faces at all!
The poet himself has none.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Twisted Masks
Sick in the head
Sick in the mind they'll call me
The hypocrites who lie about their masks
they see not because they look not
who i am is who i choose to be
masks filled my face from inch to inch
tell me who i am you sick twisted soul
thinking you know my heart like its gold
twisted time engraves upon ones heart
like sadness on the face of a clown
does my face shine that masks so
but who am i to twist the facts of life?
poem by Branden Aeling
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Behind the Mask...
Don't be fooled by the mask that I wear,
Throughout my journey I wear many masks,
Masks I am afraid to live whithout,
I reveal only what I'm comfortable with,
Whilst hiding the naked heart of me,
Yet all of these masks have become me,
Pretense an art form I know so well,
Don't be fooled by my boldness,
Look past the surface to the emotions within,
To the soul that cries in silent pain,
A boundless well of passion waiting to be tapped,
Loves flame waiting to devour the gentle breath of reason,
All this I hold for you... Behind the mask...
Spread the love... The peace will follolw...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Hospitable Hosts
To thieve and take,
May increase one's social status...
Among thieves.
And there are plenty who fake,
Being more than just thieves.
But a gathering of thieves does not perfume the air.
No matter what is used to diffuse the stench...
Many are proud to stink so loudly.
As viewed with noses lifted high in despair.
To thieve and take,
May increase one's social status...
Among thieves.
And there are plenty who fake,
Being more than just thieves.
Some even pretend to be humanitarian.
If not tax deducting philanthropers.
However...
Those who know they are straight up crooks,
Are the most entertaining and hospitable hosts.
They ensure everyone is provided comfort.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Animal House
Morning is breaking with death on the street
Driving downtown in a red corvette
The daemons and satans are creeping around
La nights are madhouse nights
The murderers - are heroes
Theyre speeding all over the town
And justice - is drunken
Im tumbling upside down
Im a madman
Living in an animal house
Im a madman
Living in an animal house
Living in an animal house
Rockers in concert are serving the bible
Praying in public is getting a habit
For selling out everything seems to be right, oh yeah
The sunset is crowded with tramps passing out
Theyre sleeping - in trash cans
Theres witchcraft in everyones eyes
Satans and daemons
All dressed up in suits and ties
Im a madman
Living in an animal house
Im a madman
Living in an animal house
Madman - going crazy - living in an animal house
Im a madman...
song performed by by U. D. O.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Duels Between Thieves
Duels between thieves,
Eventually have to happen.
A source to go where thefts are made,
To ensure quality craved maintains its taste...
Does not sustain itself,
When thieves are not focused on originality.
Thieves have none!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thieves In The Temple
{long version of thieves in the temple}
I'm holdin' on (i'm holdin' on) the best that i can
Love please, (let me be) let me be the better man
Better than the ones that wanna count me out
Better than the ones that don't know what my love's about
I'm talkin' 'bout the kinda love that can move a mountain
The kinda love that could part the sea
The kinda love that'll last 4 ever
(no matter what u say we should be together)
U should be with me (thieves in the temple)
Yeah, u should be with me
I said i wanna know (talk to me)
One thing (talk to me)
Said i wanna know (talk to me)
I wanna know one thing, baby (talk to me)
How come you said that i was your baby
When u and your love was gonna leave
U led me on, led me on thinkin' u was moses
Herding sheep blindly through a fantasy
U done me wrong (thieves in the temple)
And everybody knows it
Now the sound of my voice is pumpin' in your chest
More or less, i am here to tell u that
I am the best
Better than the rest
Better than the thieves in the temple tonight
Tonight, tonight, tonight, tonight, hurt me
(put it in)
Thieves in the temple
Thieves in the temple
Thieves in the temple
Thieves in the temple tonight
Put your foot on the rock
Let me show you how to clock
Put your foot on the rock
Let me show you how to clock
Thieves in the temple
(what the....?)
Who got the party, who got the party, who?
Who got the party, who got the party, who?
Who got the party, who got the party, who?
Who got the party, who got the party, who?
(hurt me)
Thieves in the temple
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Masks are falling
Masks are falling.
Don't say it please,
that you are wearing it too.
Harrowing wind, distressing rain,
Freezing cold and burning heat - I have seen it all.
Looking at your face,
I walked pass through.
Now tremor beneath my feet.
Don't let the color go off.
If the earth is still so green,
That's because of you.
If the time stopped at dusk,
Oh dear, the reason I knew.
Masks are falling.
Please remain the way you were.
I fear to see you new.
poem by Kingshuk Chakraborty
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First Of The Gang To Die
you have never been in love
untill you've seen the stars
reflect in the reservoirs
and you have never been in love
until you've seen the dawn rise
behind the home for the blind
we are the pretty petty thieves
and your standing on our streets
where Hector was the first of the gang
with a gun in his hand
and the first to time
the first of the gang to die/oh my
Hector was the first of the gang
with gun in his hand
and the first to do time
the first of the gang to die/oh my
you have never been in love
until you've seen sunlight thrown
over smashed human bone
we are the pretty petty thieves
and your standing on our streets
where Hector was the first of the gang
with a gun in his hand
and the first to do time
the first of the gang to die
such a silly boy
Hector was the first of the gang
with a gun in his hand
and a bullet in his gullet
the first lost lad under the sod
and he stole from the rich and the poor
and the not-very-rich
and the very poor
and he stole all hearts away
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Coming Down Hard On Crime
They're coming down hard on crime.
And this you can believe.
All eyes will open wide.
And deceit and thieves,
Will cease to be.
So hold your head erect!
And know this will happen soon.
And sing a happy song.
Knowing we'll soon be crook free!
Come from behind those bushes,
Children.
Come...
Come sing along with me!
The 'boogeyman' is gone.
They're coming down hard on crime.
Sing...
('Coming down hard on crime...')
And this you can believe.
('This we can believe...')
I think you've got it.
All eyes will open wide
('Our eyes are open wide...
And deceit and thieves have ceased to be.')
Very nice!
Yes...
Deceit and thieves.
('Yes deceit and thieves')
Yes...
Deceit and thieves.
('Yes deceit and thieves')
YES...
DECEIT and THIEVES.
('DECEIT and THIEVES')
Together and raise our voices high!
YES...
DECEIT and THIEVES...
HAVE CEASED
TO
BE!
Marvelous children!
Wasn't that a 'happy tune'?
NOTE:
Doesn't this remind you of 'something' from...
Let's see...
The Sound of Music?
Yes!
When the hills became alive with it!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Poor thieves in halters we behold; And great thieves in their chains of gold.
Bazaar Of Balloons
If the ballooned bazaar is barraged by thieves,
Sell it afterwards to a balloonist who believes.
He sells it perhaps to a merchant on the loose,
This man offers a price to others to abuse
Them.
If this bazaar of balloons is a balcony now,
We see further than thieves can allow.
The plan is to frustrate the balloonist
In order to triumph with the cartoonist
Who draws from this.
The thieves have stolen the painting,
The painting of balloons they were reacquainting.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Halloween in the Deep Night
Festival in the deep night
Parade of colours and masks
Time to dwell in darkness
And what it can bring to life.
It is time in the year when
People pose in disguise,
playing the role of the good
the bad, the sinners and saints.
Let us celebrate this night
of Halloween in fear and delight
Let us pose in disguise and see
Ourselves behind our own masks.
poem by Elizabeth Padillo Olesen
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The True Me
The me that wants to fall in love,
Not spend another night in a,
Lustful bed.
The one that is deaf,
Because of her mothers hate cries.
The me that takes the word danger with a grain of salt,
And will try anything once.
If not killed might try it again.
The one that really thinks she is beautiful and sexy,
And enjoys getting dressed up,
Because then someone might notice her.
The me that is a broken and fallen angel,
Picking up all the pieces.
But needs your hand to learn how to start,
Putting them back together again.
The one that is a weak, loud, strong leader,
Who will put you before herself anytime, anywhere.
The person that you cant see from a far.
The someone that you cant find skin deep,
Even if you looked real hard.
This me is the one who is only shared within whispers,
And hidden within too many masks.
The masks are like a layered cake and I am at the bottom
Every word within the poems that I write
The masks crumble at the tip of my pen
And I expose to you
The true me
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Choosing the right mask helps you... We went through many masks. It was very particular leather that as soon as you smudged it, you had to get a new one. We went through about 55 masks.
quote by Gerard Butler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Teen Remembrances(one I did 4 a class)
Teen remembrances are a drag
When you're living within too many masks
Covering up what everyone wants you to cover up
You always remember living
Three different lives
Three different people living inside
You just wanting to be one
With such low expectations
One has to set high goals in life
To know ones self by
No one understands that I just want to cry sometimes
Tears do fall from these eyes
I just hide them away in the hole
That I slowly drowned in without laughing from day to day
The smile that I put on my face every day
Fools everyone I meet and the ones that I don’t
It even fools me from time to time
Thinking I really might be happy but I’m not
I’m not happy here and that is why I have to leave
To run and hide within my many masks
poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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It is a career of make-believe, of masks. We all have masks in life.
quote by Judd Nelson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Where I Live
i've wanted to clothe myself
with the shining armor
i made myself choose masks
worn some and faced the crowd
somehow i did not like it
for who wants not to be one's self?
after the event i regretted having spoken
for others said what was best
but i didn't or perhaps i couldn't
so now is the time to be naked
and display the mole behind my chest
for them to remember
that i was and will always be different
that i was born not to be admired
but just to be dispensable
to be dismissed as nothing but a mere idea
on this new understanding
perhaps i can dwell satisfactorily
in the silence of this tower.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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