The Allegories Of That Early Morning
one can
after a
time see
the dichotomy
of the body
& mind
the mind
has its own
territory
it grows its
own garden
plants its
own towers
of ivory
the body
constructs
its rivers
destroys the
fences
and demolishes
walls
in the mirror
you see a
face
and you are
carried
with so much
sympathy
the carriage
with a black horse
begins
to take the body
the mind is the
white horse
galloping in
a different
direction
the peace of your
world
depends on the
power of your hands
to whip and
caress
meanwhile the flowers
in your garden
bloom and wilt
the tower of ivory
begins to
shoot its light
against that
vast dark landscape
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
When Time Stood Still
Far beyond the things you see
Time rolls on eternally
Got a thing about it
Just cant live without it
Sitting there inside your mind
Just waiting for the clock to chime
On a lonely line
Stood a lonely man
No pictures on an empty wall
No body there no one at all
Just echoes in the ivory halls
When time stood still
Days line up outside the door
Thought time had stopped there was no more
Been a lonely world
Such a lonely world
No pictures on an empty wall
No toulouse, vincent, or pablo
Just echoes in the ivory halls
When time stood still
No big machine or april showers
No submarines no plastic flowers
Just echoes in the ivory towers
When time stood still
When time stood still
When time stood still
When time stood still
song performed by by Electric Light Orchestra
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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With The Face
With the face goes a mirror
As with the mind a world.
Likeness tells the doubting eye
That strangeness is not strange.
At an early hour and knowledge
Identity not yet familiar
Looks back upon itself from later,
And seems itself.
To-day seems now.
With reality-to-be goes time.
With the mind goes a world.
Wit the heart goes a weather.
With the face goes a mirror
As with the body a fear.
Young self goes staring to the wall
Where dumb futurity speaks calm,
And between then and then
Forebeing grows of age.
The mirror mixes with the eye.
Soon will it be the very eye.
Soon will the eye that was
The very mirror be.
Death, the final image, will shine
Transparently not otherwise
Than as the dark sun described
With such faint brightnesses.
poem by Laura Riding
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Only Serpents
Only serpents let their skin be fallen
And a soul - all grown up and old.
We, alas, change an eternal soul,
Leaving body in eternal hold.
Oh, remembrance, power, she-giant,
You direct a horse-life with a bridle,
You will tell me all these men about,
Who had had my body before I'd.
The first one was ugly, thin and tragic,
Loving darkness of the garden lane,
Falling Leaf, the child of gloomy magic,
Whose one word could fully stop the rain.
Second one - he liked the wind from South,
Every noise for him was strings' accord,
He believed that life is just his spouse,
And the rag under his feet - the world.
I don't like him: in his mind, he's roused,
To the crowns of the King and God,
He had hanged on entrance to my house
The signboard with a script 'The Bard.'
I do like the favorite of freedom,
Him, who used to sail in sea and shoot:
What a song he heard in water's kingdom,
What a cloud followed his routes!
I'm a builder, which is working smartly
O'er the temple, arising in a haze,
Seek for fame for my beloved country
As in Heavens, so on the earth.
Heart is scorched by non-extinguished fire,
Till the day, in which, as made of light,
Walls of New Jerusalem will spire
On the fields of my beloved land.
Then the queer wind will start to blow,
And the awful light will pour on us,
It's the Milky Way - begins to grow
As a garden of the dazzling stars.
And the tiered stranger will appear,
Hiding face, but I will catch his dream,
Looking at a lion, going near,
And an eagle, flying straight to him.
I will scream, but who will hear my groan,
Who will save my soul from a crash?
Only snakes could let their skin be fallen,
People lose the soul - not the flesh.
poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
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Galloping Horse
Watching, in sarrow as you gallop away
in your mighty white horse to the endless shimmering sea
I can only watch so long, before breaking down to face away-
mourning the day i went wrong.
In hoping and knowing that youll return
i leave without saying a word
But i turn too soon and forever lost-you become-
in human and in thought
Now i carry such a burden as to have you-
gone from my life, my soul, and my mind
but still in hoping, and knowing that you will not return,
i wait by the sea-searching for a galloping horse
And in dreams i imagine your smile once more,
by the galloping horse
And in visions i see you, returning-
by the galloping horse.
poem by Afrodita Alkline
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Only Serpents
Only serpents let their skin be fallen
And a soul -- all grown up and old.
We, alas, change an eternal soul,
Leaving body in eternal hold.
Oh, remembrance, power, she-giant,
You direct a horse-life with a bridle,
You will tell me all these men about,
Who had had my body before I'd.
The first one was ugly, thin and tragic,
Loving darkness of the garden lane,
Falling Leaf, the child of gloomy magic,
Whose one word could fully stop the rain.
Second one -- he liked the wind from South,
Every noise for him was strings' accord,
He believed that life is just his spouse,
And the rag under his feet -- the world.
I don't like him: in his mind, he's roused,
To the crowns of the King and God,
He had hanged on entrance to my house
The signboard with a script "The Bard."
I do like the favorite of freedom,
Him, who used to sail in sea and shoot:
What a song he heard in water's kingdom,
What a cloud followed his routes!
I'm a builder, which is working smartly
O'er the temple, arising in a haze,
Seek for fame for my beloved country
As in Heavens, so on the earth.
Heart is scorched by non-extinguished fire,
Till the day, in which, as made of light,
Walls of New Jerusalem will spire
On the fields of my beloved land.
Then the queer wind will start to blow,
And the awful light will pour on us,
It's the Milky Way -- begins to grow
As a garden of the dazzling stars.
And the tiered stranger will appear,
Hiding face, but I will catch his dream,
Looking at a lion, going near,
And an eagle, flying straight to him.
I will scream, but who will hear my groan,
Who will save my soul from a crash?
Only snakes could let their skin be fallen,
People lose the soul -- not the flesh.
poem by Nikolai Stepanovich Gumilev
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kyle Said To Jason (edit)
Artist: KLF
Album: Single
Song: Kylie Said to Jason
All lyrics transcribed by Dave Datta
I'm gonna leave this body now
I'm gonna leave this body now
Oh Baby...............................Oh Baby
I was lying on the floor
with the music in my head
the Todd Terry Project
was the last thing that I heard
I had searched for the answer
it was not much to find
Then Kylie said to Jason
"It's all in the mind"
My mind was empty (party)
Had been for a while (party)
So I said to Kylie (party)
"Jason's got some style" (party)
You got it, You got it
I'm gonna leave this body now
I'm gonna leave this body now
Oh Baby...............................Oh Baby
Trapped in a rerun
Of a seventies sitcom soap
"Some Mothers Do Have 'Em"
Or "The Archie Bunker Show"
I was smokin with Felicity
The good life begins in bed
Richard was in the garden
Or I think that's what she said
Then in walks Skippy (party)
The bush kangaroo (party)
Rolf playing "Sad Eyes" (party)
And playing the didgeridoo (party)
You got it, You got it
You got it, You got it
I'm gonna leave this body now
I'm gonna leave this body now
Oh Baby...............................Oh Baby
You got it, You got it
You got it, You got it
I'm gonna leave this body now
I'm gonna leave this body now
You got it, You got it
You got it, You got it
I'm gonna leave this body now
I'm gonna leave this body now
song performed by by KLF
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Is All In The Mind
think my dear, it is all in your mind
think beautiful
and you will be beautiful
think all the good things you have
and you will be good
think that you are this success and
you will surely be one, my dear
so why bother
about what this world has to say to you
it is you that matters
it is your mind your soul in you that shapes the contours
of your flesh and body
use your mind that way you use
all the wisdom in you
think about beauty, the truth, the good
focus your mind, change this cup, this saucer, this spoon
change this world of ash into flowers and butterflies
learn this art
this subjectivity, this feeling, this poetry
it is all in the mind
and matter is now bereft of power to hurt you
it is
the mind, the soul, the idea, so think some more
it is the real you, this rational you, think some more
with your beautiful mind, change this world of ash into
this garden of Eden
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Shell....
i once had
a beautiful body
many beg to
touch it
many want to
sleep with me
even without
any responsibility
i look at myself
in the mirror
grateful for this
body
i had conceit
like a prince
of arrogance
time is my enemy
my body wears out
skin is loose
and bones become
brittle
there is a squeak
when i walk
sometimes i
regret having this
body
since i never had
used it
the way others
want it
if they had it
i tell myself
that it would have
been better
if this body
is the body of the
one i love
it would have been
more useful
perhaps lovelier
and i would have
been happier
my body is silent and indifferent
it has no independent mind of its own
it is one of those shells
where the hermit crab dwells
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Winters End
Colder then ever before.
A chill that just won't end.
My body is frozen still.
I don't dare move.
For the pain is more then I can bare.
Sharp needles constantly attacking my feet.
A hunger for something I don't have to eat.
A desire to be complete and full.
Time seems as if it stands still.
I know that can't be as much as it seems to be.
A trickery of the mind.
Hypothermia is so close I can touch it, taste it, and as I do so well to embrace it.
If that the way it has to be.
Facing my destiny.
No sadness at all.
Even if I die standing here, or I'm overcome and happen to fall.
An injury to boot.
Just get a gun and please shoot.
Take my wallet, take my cloths, take everything only leaving cold naked body for all to see.
Just look at all those scars indeed.
Their can be no humiliation once you dead.
So their no worries.
This is my winters end.
No body ever remembers when a life begins.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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In a Vacant Spin
I feel as if I'm in a vacant spin.
With a churning inside...
Going with a flowing,
My body moves...
To prove,
My mind can be torn.
And I could care less...
The direction it chooses to move in.
A releasing to free me within begins.
I am weeding afflictions of those addictions,
From my head.
I want to rid myself of deceptive satisfactions,
I've been led to believe would keep me fed.
A releasing to free me within begins.
I feel as if I'm in a vacant spin.
With a churning inside...
Going with a flowing,
My body moves...
To prove,
My mind can be torn.
And I could care less...
The direction it chooses to move in.
As long as every inch within me gets cleansed.
A releasing to free me within begins.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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One Who Has Sacrificed With A Kept Pace
Something done persistently,
Eventually wears on the body and mind...
Of the one who has given time to find,
Without a resting to qualify this to be done...
Like some who give their recommendations,
Misunderstanding the drive it has taken...
To make sure things are set in place.
They would never understand,
One who has sacrificed with a kept pace.
Well...I do.
And it is not from that which I am doing today.
It is a much needed rest,
From that which has taken years in the making
To create.
Never before considered the connection between,
Aches and pains and the lack of rest.
Until my mind and body began to beg for some.
And getting as much as I can get to just rest,
To prioritize for myself is best.
And aging has made me more aware of this!
Without proper rest,
The body and mind begins to insist it be done.
And quick with a paying of attention.
Oh...
You don't need to shout so loud.
I hear you very clearly.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Grey Day
When I get home its late at night,
Im black and bloody from my life,
I havent time to clean my hands,
Cuts will only sting me through my dreams.
Its well past midnight as I lie
In a semi-conscious state.
I dream of people fighting me
Without any reason I can see.
In the morning I awake,
My arms my legs my body aches,
The sky outside is wet and grey
So begins another weary day.
So begins another weary day.
After eating I go out,
People passing by me shout.
I cant stand this agony
Why dont they talk to me?
In the park I have to rest
I lie down and I do my best,
The rain is falling on my face
I wish I could sink without a trace.
In the morning I awake,
My arms my legs my body aches,
The sky outside is wet and grey,
So begins another weary day.
So begins another weary day.
In the park I have to rest
I lie down and I do my best,
The rain is falling on my face
I wish I could sink without a trace.
In the morning I awake,
My arms my legs my body aches,
The sky outside is wet and grey,
So begins another weary day.
So begins another weary day.
song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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What is a Horse?
What is a horse?
A horse has eyes as dainty as a mink.
The grace is interrupted merely by a blink.
A horse is beauty.
What is a horse?
A horse is a tree in a storm that never goes down.
A horse is a weathered rock that stays around.
A horse is ancient.
What is a horse?
A horse waltzes like breeze over rivers.
She curvets and leaps like rain shivers.
A horse is a marionette.
What is a horse?
A horse is determination, that never stops flowing.
A horse is fondness, that never stops growing.
A horse is poetic power.
poem by Lily Whittaker
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To The Other World
try standing naked by this mirror
see yourself to every detail
look closer to your eyes
count the waves of your eyelashes
open your mouth and see how many teeth you have
all white, pure white lining up on your pink gums
feel your lips with your fingertips
feel the pulp the flesh of the lower lip
to the upper lip
touch your hair
do not imagine them all black
closely they are not at all
move a little bit closer and see your body
this beautiful human body
flesh, contours, curves, some muscles
the whole of your skin wrapping
everything in your body holding them all
nothing falls, on this erect body, this
god before you, standing steel-like with dignity
in front of the mirror
do not claim you have seen your soul with your eyes
do not lie
be honest to yourself now,
alone, you are alone, do not imagine
any god, any soul, any spirit,
just be honest,
touch your body with your hands
feel the joy of having this body
your body, pinch a part of it to feel
not pain, but just to feel that you are alive,
do you ever ask what made these parts stay as one?
look again at the mirror of this stature
your body, it is you, touching your body
take a hammer, and destroy the mirror
shatter everything to pieces
this is the world without a mirror
there is nothing to reflect you now
nothing to imagine, it is you, the real you
do you ever ask now, where is that other world?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Demon In Me
The demon in me's not dead,
He's living, and well.
In the body as in a hold,
In the self as in a cell.
The world is but walls.
The exit's the axe.
("All the world's a stage,"
The actor prates.)
And that hobbling buffoon
Is no joker;
In the body as in glory,
In the body as in a toga.
May you live forever!
Cherish your life,
Only poets in bone
Are as in a lie.
No, my eloquent brothers,
We'll not have much fun,
In the body as with Father's
Dressing-gown on.
We deserve something better.
We wilt in the warm.
In the body as in a byre.
In the self as in a cauldron.
Marvels that perish
We don't collect.
In the body as in a marsh,
In the body as in a crypt.
In the body as in furthest
Exile. It blights.
In the body as in a secret,
In the body as in the vice
Of an iron mask.
poem by Marina Ivanovna Tsvetaeva
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Ivory
You were born with a face that would let you get your way
Yeah you had everything you wanted child, that is until the day
you know you're much too fine and free, Ivory
You've been dressed in a vest, every minute of your day
You walk into a room, stand in a lit shade
Is your timer too high for me, Ivory
Ivory
How does it feel to be so high
Ivory
How long how long will it take for you to cry
Ivory
I'm in need
Ivory
Ivory
I'll touch your soul, might even touch your brain
I know you can't see me
I know your blind
Come back come back and see
Ivory
So good to me
Ivory
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Once Upon A Poem
In the Mad-Poetic world,
Of a lonely Ivory Tower,
Was a Poet never heard,
For it never was his hour.
He had gone and warned the World,
Of impending, danger, power,
But the people kept on dancing,
Just like fools, around his tower.
Poets, Idealists and Lovers,
This old World has never changed,
Poets, stay in Ivory Tower
And pretend you are deranged.
poem by Sandra Feldman
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I also pay tribute to my flesh
I do not keep a snob spirit
A closed one not open to the realities
Of my duality: body and soul
Flesh and spirit, to keep myself whole
To keep the horses satisfied and make
This chariot travel smoothly towards
The path I have chosen towards the path
Of my true destination
The black horse and the white horse
They must too live in harmony
The black horse of my nights
The white horse of my days
And this chariot where I ride
I am still the driver in control
I drive where I want to go
I stop when I want to stop
These horses must see me as their master
And this chariot where I ride Is nothing
But just a useful thing.
Today, I pay tribute to my flesh
And my spirit must also understand
Love after all hinges on desires
And without this body, how can the spirit feel?
And where can guilt be, if love knows
That it is always greater and can always win.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Manhood
in the center of my garden
of paradise
i stand alone
naked facing a mirror pool
where i see my
own image
i raise my hands to touch
the moon
it is golden on a sheen of fingers
touching my body
i squirt
too much light
so many seeds of light
some tiny hungry grass forms
have mouths
open
drinking some dews from the leaves
of my body
this is the cycle of my
solo existence
squirts of light
when the moon fades in a universe of dark space
it is so silent
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Death Papers.... (Part Two)
i, the body
of earth and wind,
cry for the mountains,
the valleys, and rivers.
i am man,
the warrior naked,
muscled dark and lean.
with eyes borrowed from the hawk,
and hands that turn the ground.
i bear the feet of time determined,
the marks of the whip scar my back.
with hardened phallus,
and panting breath,
i follow the trail of the wolves.
i am woman,
the warrior naked,
long hair swept by the wind.
with eyes borrowed from the owl,
and hands skilled in healing.
i bear the feet of time determined,
the scar of the chains on my wrists.
breasts born with fire,
garden wet with hungry birth,
i am the trail the wolves follow!
and now,
i, the body
lay down my cross,
seed in the furrow,
sunlight waiting
for darkness's goodbye kiss.
for i, the body,
am earth and wind....
mountains, valleys,
and rivers cry for me!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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