Related quotes: Since ye distemper and defile...

To Motorists

Since ye distemper and defile
Sweet Here by the measured mile,
Nor aught on jocund highways heed
Except the evidence of speed;
And bear about your dreadful task
Faces beshrouded 'neath a mask;
Great goblin eyes and glue hands
And souls enslaved to gears and bands;
Here shall no graver curse be said
Than, though y'are quick, that ye are dead!

poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Related quotes

We Wear the Mask

We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,--
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile,
And mouth with myriad subtleties.

Why should the world be overwise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.

We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Quick And Bitter

The end was quick and bitter.
Slow and sweet was the time between us,
slow and sweet were the nights
when my hands did not touch one another in despair but in the love
of your body which came
between them.

And when I entered into you
it seemed then that great happiness
could be measured with precision
of sharp pain. Quick and bitter.

Slow and sweet were the nights.
Now is bitter and grinding as sand—
'Let's be sensible' and similiar curses.

And as we stray further from love
we multiply the words,
words and sentences so long and orderly.
Had we remained together
we could have become a silence.

poem by Yehuda Amichai
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There's fear in my eyes

No sorrows in my life
No enemies to fight
There are thousand reasons to smile
Yet there's fear in my eyes

Sweet dreams to see
Beautiful day to live
There are many reasons to love
Yet there's fear in my eyes

No fire to burn
No darkness to curse
No valleys to fall
Yet there's fear in my eyes

A Mother to love
A Father to care
A sweet family to live with
Yet there's fear in my eyes

All friend with me
No enemies far mile
There are all relations of truth
Yet there's fear in my eyes

Showers of blessings on me
All smiling faces for me
All words of love for me
Yet there's fear in my eyes

But what I fear for I'm unknown
What? When all these things will go
And I'll be left all alone?
And for all these things I'll have to say bye! !
May be for this reason
There's fear in my eyes
There's fear in my eyes

poem by Differently Indifferent
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An Angel in the House

How sweet it were, if without feeble fright,
Or dying of the dreadful beauteous sight,
An angel came to us, and we could bear
To see him issue from the silent air
At evening in our room, and bend on ours
His divine eyes, and bring us from his bowers
News of dear friends, and children who have never
Been dead indeed,--as we shall know forever.
Alas! we think not what we daily see
About our hearths,--angels that are to be,
Or may be if they will, and we prepare
Their souls and ours to meet in happy air;--
A child, a friend, a wife whose soft heart sings
In unison with ours, breeding its future wings.

poem by James Henry Leigh Hunt
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Great Spirits

When the earth was young
And the air was sweet
And the mountains kissed the sky
In the far beyond, with its many paths
Man and nature lived side by side
The pretty wisdom does not come without learning
And revision not wholly with our eyes
We can think that we see
Truly see you're around us
But when we look
Do we see with open minds?
Great Spirits of all who lived before
Take our hands and lead us
Fill our hearts and souls with all you know
The key to understanding
Is to see through others' eyes
Find a way to help us
See from all sides
Truly see from all sides
Teach our children to look deeper than the surface
See the world through another's eyes
For to be blind me on yourself
Is to look but not see it
Knowing much is not enough to be wise
To see the wonder
In all we've been given
In a world that's not always as it seems
On the part that we choose
Turn every corner
Follow on, for another begins
Great Spirits of all who lived before
Take our hands and lead us
Fill our hearts and souls with all you know
Key to understanding
Is to see through others' eyes
Find a way to help us
See from all sides
Truly see from all sides
Great Spirits of all who lived before
Take our hands and lead us
Fill our hearts and souls with all you know
Key to understanding
Is to see through others' eyes
Find a way to help us
See from all sides
Truly see from all sides
See from all sides

song performed by by Phil Collins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Biker

Riding
Riding Fast
It’s A Blast.

Fast
Fast Feelings
Always Always Fast.

Feelings
Feeling Adrenaline Rush
Last Last Last.

Rush
Infusion Rush Gears
Riding Changing Gears Gears Gears.

Rush
Infusion Rush Roads
Riding Changing Gears Gears Gears.

Roads
Roads Go Go
Blowing Blowing Blast.

Wind
Wind Sweeping
Sweeping Moments Last.

Never Fast
Fast Enough
Howling Howling Past.

Never Fast Enough
Until You Have To Stop
Dead Quick.

poem by Terence George Craddock
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After Death

THE FOUR boards of the coffin lid
Heard all the dead man did.

The first curse was in his mouth,
Made of grave’s mould and deadly drouth.

The next curse was in his head,
Made of God’s work discomfited.

The next curse was in his hands,
Made out of two grave-bands.

The next curse was in his feet,
Made out of a grave-sheet.

“I had fair coins red and white,
And my name was as great light;

I had fair clothes green and red,
And strong gold bound round my head.

But no meat comes in my mouth,
Now I fare as the worm doth;

And no gold binds in my hair,
Now I fare as the blind fare.

My live thews were of great strength,
Now am I waxen a span’s length;

My live sides were full of lust,
Now are they dried with dust.”

The first board spake and said:
“Is it best eating flesh or bread?”

The second answered it:
“Is wine or honey the more sweet?”

The third board spake and said:
“Is red gold worth a girl’s gold head?”

The fourth made answer thus:
“All these things are as one with us.”

The dead man asked of them:
“Is the green land stained brown with flame?

Have they hewn my son for beasts to eat,
And my wife’s body for beasts’ meat?

Have they boiled my maid in a brass pan,
And built a gallows to hang my man?”

The boards said to him:
“This is a lewd thing that ye deem.

Your wife has gotten a golden bed,
All the sheets are sewn with red.

Your son has gotten a coat of silk,
The sleeves are soft as curded milk.

Your maid has gotten a kirtle new,
All the skirt has braids of blue.

Your man has gotten both ring and glove,
Wrought well for eyes to love.”

The dead man answered thus:
“What good gift shall God give us?”

The boards answered him anon:
“Flesh to feed hell’s worm upon.”

poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Heed Not!

Heed not the cock-sure tourist,
Seeing with English eyes;
Stroked at the banquet table
Still, with the old stock lies—
Pet of a social circle,
Guest in a garden fair—
Free of the first-class carriage—
He learns no Australia there.
Heed not the Southern humbugs
By the first saloons who come—
From his work in the wide, hot scrub-lands
The Australian goes not home.
Give them the toadies’ knighthood,
Fit for the souls they’ve got;
Fear not to shame Australia
For Australia knows them not.

Heed not the Sydney ‘dailies,’
Naught for the land they do;
Heed not the Melbourne street crowd,
For they know no more than you!
Pent in the coastal cities,
Still on the old-world track—
They know naught of Australia,
Of the heart of the great Out-Back.

But wait for the voice that gathers
Strength by the western creeks!
Heed ye the Out-Back shearers—
List when the Great Bush speaks!
Heed ye the black-sheep, working
His own salvation free—
And Oh! heed ye the sons of the exiles
When they speak of the things to be!

poem by Henry Lawson
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Twin Faces

I gazed into her lovely eyes
and saw miniature faces
of myself looking back at me.
Do these blue orbs see what I see?
Is what I see what she perceives
through these tinted panes to her soul?
Can she see Mr. Hyde lurking
behind the comely mask I wear?
A smile on her innocent face
appeared, then she gently kissed me
caressing my cheeks with both hands.
I knew then it did not matter
what I saw in those twin faces
hidden now behind her closed eyes.

poem by Albert Ahearn
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The Way The Look For The Words

he was careful in looking for the words
to make up his thoughts
he hangs his head on the railing of the train
closes the glass window
looks at the flashes of each passing scene
his eyes cannot wink
wide to the realities unfolding
against the speed of pictures and events
the sound of the honks and the ambulance
the trains on the byways of his mind
the destination finally arrives at the station
where everything becomes still
where everyone goes out takes the exit
to every door
and then he raises his hands to the faces that meet him
five just five of those sea of faces
and he wakes up
and he knows this is but an imagination on one of his journeys
for they are all dead.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Could Bear To Look!

broke down,
system.
faces peeled,
razor knives.
hands cut off,
feet bloodied.
mouths open,
gulping air.
eyes plucked out
by the lies.
souls bartered
for a cup of rice.
flags burning,
bodies strewn.
the well oiled wheel,
turns in spite.
no god,
could bear to look!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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Grind Me In The Gears

Im holding my last breath
Its burning in my lungs
Clenching up my eyes
Bloody up my tongue
For the words that might escape
Are ringing in my ears
Grinds me to a pulp
Grind me in the gears
My frozen spirit aches
I slip another day
Start to lose my grip
Find another way
For the life that might escape
Has been echoing for years
Grinds me to a pulp
Grind me in the gears
Ive seen all the faces
They mirror me
And Ive felt the tearing tearing of the teeth
Ive given up my ghosts
Barely breathe your name
Offer up myself
Pray youll do the same
For the love that might escape
Well thats the biggest fear
Grinds me to a pulp
Grinds me in the gears

song performed by by Edwin McCain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Task To Mask My Weaknesses

It isn't as easy as it seems,
To teach anyone...
Who has established a mindset,
That whatever is done which they do...
Is okay no matter what it is.

Betraying others with a disrespect to display,
Is a thoughtlessness that increases to test...
Others to accept a mindset,
Deep in selfishness.
And kept protected in ways unsuspected.

Until one steps forward to protest this disregard,
There will be excuses made forever...
By the ones who perceive,
Others exist to cater to their needs.
To leave them to do as they choose and please.

'You can say what you like,
But never again...
Will I be giving you another opportunity,
To perceive my giving...
As a task to mask my weaknesses.'

No, never again will you interpret my giving,
As a task to mask my weaknesses.
No, never again will you interpret my giving,
As a task to mask my weaknesses.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Life is too short

Life is too short for any vain regretting;
Let dead delight bury its dead, I say,
And let us go upon our way forgetting
The joys and sorrows of each yesterday
Between the swift sun's rising and its setting
We have no time for useless tears or fretting:
Life is too short.
Life is too short for any bitter feeling;
Time is the best avenger if we wait;
The years speed by, and on their wings bear healing;
We have no room for anything like hate.
This solemn truth the low mounds seem revealing
That thick and fast about our feet are stealing:
Life is too short.
Life is too short for aught but high endeavor—
Too short for spite, but long enough for love.
And love lives on forever and forever;
It links the worlds that circle on above:
'Tis God's first law, the universe's lever.
In His vast realm the radiant souls sigh never
'Life is too short.'

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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To Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin

I.
Mine eyes were dim with tears unshed;
Yes, I was firm -- thus wert not thou;--
My baffled looks did fear yet dread
To meet thy looks -- I could not know
How anxiously they sought to shine
With soothing pity upon mine.

II.
To sit and curb the soul's mute rage
Which preys upon itself alone;
To curse the life which is the cage
Of fettered grief that dares not groan,
Hiding from many a careless eye
The scornèd load of agony.

III.
Whilst thou alone, then not regarded,
The thou alone should be,
To spend years thus, and be rewarded,
As thou, sweet love, requited me
When none were near -- Oh! I did wake
From torture for that moment's sake.

IV.
Upon my heart thy accents sweet
Of peace and pity fell like dew
On flowers half dead;-- thy lips did meet
Mine tremblingly; thy dark eyes threw
Their soft persuasion on my brain,
Charming away its dream of pain.

V.
We are not happy, sweet! our state
Is strange and full of doubt and fear;
More need of words that ills abate;--
Reserve or censure come not near
Our sacred friendship, lest there be
No solace left for thee and me.

VI.
Gentle and good and mild thou art,
Nor can I live if thou appear
Aught but thyself, or turn thine heart
Away from me, or stoop to wear
The mask of scorn, although it be
To hide the love thou feel'st for me.

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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Black And White! (Spirits And Flesh)

black and white,
not different kinds of souls,
merely skin tints!
Americans, and Middle
Eastern people,
worship...
not different gods,
but different understandings
of the same god!
and common people,
all around the world,
have worked too long,
for too little,
are tired of being numbers,
numbers without faces!
tired on being enslaved,
being treated as possessions....
for they have faces!
faces with hearts,
hearts with spirits,
spirits made of flesh!

poem by Eric Cockrell
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In The Prison Pen

1864

Listless he eyes the palisades
And sentries in the glare;
'Tis barren as a pelican-beach
But his world is ended there.

Nothing to do; and vacant hands
Bring on the idiot-pain;
He tries to think--to recollect,
But the blur is on his brain.

Around him swarm the plaining ghosts
Like those on Virgil's shore--
A wilderness of faces dim,
And pale ones gashed and hoar.

A smiting sun. No shed, no tree;
He totters to his lair--
A den that sick hands dug in earth
Ere famine wasted there,

Or, dropping in his place, he swoons,
Walled in by throngs that press,
Till forth from the throngs they bear
him dead--
Dead in his meagreness.

poem by Herman Melville
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Parted Presence

LOVE, I speak to your heart,
Your heart that is always here.
Oh draw me deep to its sphere,
Though you and I are apart,
And yield, by the spirit's art,
Each distant gift that is dear.
O love, my love, you are here!
Your eyes are afar to-day,
Yet, love, look now in mine eyes.
Two hearts sent forth may despise
All dead things by the way.
All between is decay,
Dead hours and this hour that dies.
O love, look deep in mine eyes!
Your hands to-day are not here,
Yet lay them, love, in my hands.
The hourglass sheds its sands
All day for the dead hours' bier;
But now, as two hearts draw near,
This hour like a flower expands.
O love, your hands in my hands!
Your voice is not on the air,
Yet, love, I can hear your voice:
It bids my heart to rejoice
As knowing your heart is there,—
A music sweet to declare
The truth of your steadfast choice.
O love, how sweet is your voice!
To-day your lips are afar,
Yet draw my lips to them, love.
Around, beneath, and above,
Is frost to bind and to bar;
But where I am and you are,
Desire and the fire thereof.
O kiss me, kiss me, my love!
Your heart is never away,
But ever with mine, for ever,
For ever without endeavour,
To-morrow, love, as to-day;
Two blent hearts never astray,
Two souls no power may sever,
Together, O my love, for ever!

poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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The Most Visible Mask

you have loved the most visible mask i have
my face

everyday, this face, tomorrow this face, yesterday
this face

you are proud of my nose, and you tell all your friends about
it
aquiline, conquest of a nose, occupying almost all parts
of your territory

not even the hands but this face
the mouth that eats you

the eyes that close when
i kiss you

the tongue that maps out
what has to be found when lost

this face, the most visible mask
inside
is the real face, the face of my mind

it is thinking something else
all these years

the invisible mask is silent
tomorrow shall be the scorn

you must bear it,
you are fond of the most visible

though not really enduring.