Related quotes: PICTURE and book remain, An...

An Acre Of Grass

PICTURE and book remain,
An acre of green grass
For air and exercise,
Now strength of body goes;
Midnight, an old house
Where nothing stirs but a mouse.

My temptation is quiet.
Here at life's end
Neither loose imagination,
Nor the mill of the mind
Consuming its rag and bonc,
Can make the truth known.

Grant me an old man's frenzy,
Myself must I remake
Till I am Timon and Lear
Or that William Blake
Who beat upon the wall
Till Truth obeyed his call;

A mind Michael Angelo knew
That can pierce the clouds,
Or inspired by frenzy
Shake the dead in their shrouds;
Forgotten else by mankind,
An old man's eagle mind.

poem by William Butler Yeats
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Quiet Focus Of The Mind

The Quiet focus of the mind
Is From whence imaginations rise

Imagination of starlit creation
Stimulation to open up one’s eyes

The quiet focus of the mind
To garner truth, cast out the lies

If Intimidation begets frustration
Then Frustration leads to what’s and why’s

Well… the quiet focus of the mind
Will turn what’s and why’s to quiet sighs

Plain and simple contemplation
Levels out, life’s lows and highs

And the quiet focus of the mind
Will lift the spirit to the skies

poem by David Whalen
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Too Much On My Mind

Theres too much on my mind,
Theres too much on my mind,
And I cant sleep at night thinking about it.
Im thinking of the time,
Theres too much on my mind,
It seems theres more to life than just to live it.
Theres too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can say.
Theres too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can do
About it,
About it.
My thought just weigh me down,
And drag me to the ground,
And shake my head till theres no more life in me.
Its ruining my brain,
Ill never be the same,
My poor demented mind is slowly going.
Theres too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can say.
Theres too much on my mind,
And there is nothing I can do
About it,
About it.
Theres too much on my mind.

song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnets (1923)

VIII8.
Oh, oh, you will be sorry for that word!
.
Give back my book and take my kiss instead.
.
Was it my enemy or my friend I heard,
.
"What a big book for such a little head!"
.
Come, I will show you now my newest hat,
.
And you may watch me purse my mouth and prink!
.
Oh, I shall love you still, and all of that.
.
I never again shall tell you what I think.
.
I shall be sweet and crafty, soft and sly;
.

You will not catch me reading any more:
.

I shall be called a wife to pattern by;
.

And some day when you knock and push the door,
.

Some sane day, not too bright and not too stormy,
.

I shall be gone, and you may whistle for me. IX9.
Here is a wound that never will heal, I know,
.
Being wrought not of a dearness and a death,
.
But of a love turned ashes and the breath
.
Gone out of beauty; never again will grow
.
The grass on that scarred acre, though I sow
.
Young seed there yearly and the sky bequeath
.
Its friendly weathers down, far underneath
.
Shall be such bitterness of an old woe.
.
That April should be shattered by a gust,
.

That August should be levelled by a rain,
.

I can endure, and that the lifted dust
.

Of man should settle to the earth again;
.

But that a dream can die, will be a thrust
.

Between my ribs forever of hot pain. XVIII18.
I, being born a woman and distressed
.
By all the needs and notions of my kind,
.
Am urged by your propinquity to find
.
Your person fair, and feel a certain zest
.
To bear your body's weight upon my breast:
.
So subtly is the fume of life designed,
.
To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind,
.
And leave me once again undone, possessed.
.
Think not for this, however, the poor treason
.

Of my stout blood against my staggering brain,
.

I shall remember you with love, or season
.

My scorn with pity, -- let me make it plain:
.

I find this frenzy insufficient reason
.

For conversation when we meet again. XIX19.
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
.
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
.
Under my head till morning; but the rain
.
Is full of ghosts to-night, that tap and sigh
.
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
.
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
.
For unremembered lads that not again
.
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
.
Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,
.

Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
.

Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
.

I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
.

I only know that summer sang in me
.

A little while, that in me sings no more.

poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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poem by William Butler Yeats
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Dont Beat Me Down

When he was a man, my father would stand
I never saw him run
There wasnt anyone could make the man bend
And the strength of his will was the tool of his trade
And he did his work well
Till the powers that be took a liking to him
And they traded his body for a cold empty shell
Dont beat me down
Dont beat me down
Ive got something to say
Dont you stand in my way
And dont beat me down
When I was a youth, I found the truth
In the eyes of a friend
There wasnt anyone could make the light dim
And we talked and we rambled and we gambled to win
And the learning was good
Till the powers that be to a liking to him
And they traded their fortunes for the sight of his blood
When I was a child my mother smiled
At the cradle she bought
For the little tot she held to her breast
And the song that she sang was an anthem to love
It was all that I heard
Till the powers that be took a liking to me
And they told me that love was a four-letter word
Dont beat me down
Dont beat me down
Ive got one life to live
And thats all I can give
So dont beat me down
Now Ive got a place, got a worried face
And the question in mind
Please let me find a reason somehow
Why some reap the harvest while other men die
And the joker runs wild
And if powers that be take a liking to us
Then we all must return to the ways of a child
We all must return to the ways of a child
So dont beat me down
Dont beat me down
Ive got something to say
Dont you stand in my way
And dont beat me down
Ive got one life to life
And thats all I can give
So dont beat me down
Dont beat me down
Dont beat me down

song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mendacious!

Mendacious, node, aid, aide, doe, does, sad, used, aids, dies!
Not telling the truth;
But, the truth will surely crash you one day.

Mendacious, in, as, dance, dances, sand, dams, mends, do, so;
Playing with your mind and not being ready for the truth!
However, telling the truth is better than lies.

Mendacious, man, men, mad, dam, is, as, me, due, main, and, die!
But, the truth is always the truth and, there is nothing more than the truth;
So, not telling the truth will lead you nowhere.

Mendacious, use, sea, made, dame, aim, aims, mean, mains, means!
With the works of your hands as seen by others;
But, try to tell the truth always.

Mendacious, Cain, coin, coins, ion, ions, dice, nice, muse, on, no;
In the land of your muse and, in the ways of mankind!
But, try to tell the truth always.

Mendacious, send, mend, amend, den, dens, same, Sam, and, Dan!
But, not telling the truth before the court;
However, the truth will crash you one day! !

Mendacious, use, dues, sue, sin, mind, minds, end, ends, mouse, mice!
With the works of our hands as seen by others in this life;
But, we need to tell the truth always.

Mendacious, cud, ice, cod, ace, are, maids, maid, code, mode, cad;
But, try to live by the truth always in this life! !
Because, we need the truth to lead us on always on the right path.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Double Vision Of Michael Robartes

I
ON the grey rock of Cashel the mind's eye
Has called up the cold spirits that are born
When the old moon is vanished from the sky
And the new still hides her horn.
Under blank eyes and fingers never still
The particular is pounded till it is man.
When had I my own will?
O not since life began.
Constrained, arraigned, baffled, bent and unbent
By these wire-jointed jaws and limbs of wood,
Themselves obedient,
Knowing not evil and good;
Obedient to some hidden magical breath.
They do not even feel, so abstract are they.
So dead beyond our death,
Triumph that we obey.
On the grey rock of Cashel I suddenly saw
A Sphinx with woman breast and lion paw.
A Buddha, hand at rest,
Hand lifted up that blest;
And right between these two a girl at play
That, it may be, had danced her life away,
For now being dead it seemed
That she of dancing dreamed.
Although I saw it all in the mind's eye
There can be nothing solider till I die;
I saw by the moon's light
Now at its fifteenth night.
One lashed her tail; her eyes lit by the moon
Gazed upon all things known, all things unknown,
In triumph of intellect
With motionless head erect.
That other's moonlit eyeballs never moved,
Being fixed on all things loved, all things unloved.
Yet little peace he had,
For those that love are sad.
Little did they care who danced between,
And little she by whom her dance was seen
So she had outdanced thought.
Body perfection brought,
For what but eye and ear silence the mind
With the minute particulars of mankind?
Mind moved yet seemed to stop
As 'twere a spinning-top.
In contemplation had those three so wrought
Upon a moment, and so stretched it out
That they, time overthrown,
Were dead yet flesh and bone.
I knew that I had seen, had seen at last
That girl my unremembering nights hold fast
Or else my dreams that fly
If I should rub an eye,
And yet in flying fling into my meat
A crazy juice that makes the pulses beat
As though I had been undone
By Homer's Paragon
Who never gave the burning town a thought;
To such a pitch of folly I am brought,
Being caught between the pull
Of the dark moon and the full,
The commonness of thought and images
That have the frenzy of our western seas.
Thereon I made my moan,
And after kissed a stone,
And after that arranged it in a song
Seeing that I, ignorant for So long,
Had been rewarded thus
In Cormac's ruined house.

MICHAEL ROBARTES AND THE DANCER

He. Opinion is not worth a rush;
In this altar-piece the knight,
Who grips his long spear so to push
That dragon through the fading light,
Loved the lady; and it's plain
The half-dead dragon was her thought,
That every morning rose again
And dug its claws and shrieked and fought.
Could the impossible come to pass
She would have time to turn her eyes,
Her lover thought, upon the glass
And on the instant would grow wise.
She. You mean they argued.
He. Put it so;
But bear in mind your lover's wage
Is what your looking-glass can show,
And that he will turn green with rage
At all that is not pictured there.
She. May I not put myself to college?
He. Go pluck Athene by the hair;
For what mere book can grant a knowledge
With an impassioned gravity
Appropriate to that beating breast,
That vigorous thigh, that dreaming eye?
And may the Devil take the rest.
She. And must no beautiful woman be
Learned like a man?
He. Paul Veronese
And all his sacred company
Imagined bodies all their days
By the lagoon you love so much,
For proud, soft, ceremonious proof
That all must come to sight and touch;
While Michael Angelo's Sistine roof,
His 'Morning' and his 'Night' disclose
How sinew that has been pulled tight,
Or it may be loosened in repose,
Can rule by supernatural right
Yet be but sinew.
She. I have heard said
There is great danger in the body.
He. Did God in portioning wine and bread
Give man His thought or His mere body?
She. My wretched dragon is perplexed.
Hec. I have principles to prove me right.
It follows from this Latin text
That blest souls are not composite,
And that all beautiful women may
Live in uncomposite blessedness,
And lead us to the like -- if they
Will banish every thought, unless
The lineaments that please their view
When the long looking-glass is full,
Even from the foot-sole think it too.
She. They say such different things at school.

poem by William Butler Yeats
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White Letters On Green Green Grass

Never had he spoken of what they saw
He’d held it back- his emotions raw
Until this day when it came to pass
He found the name etched in black glass

Before that wall he found himself kneeling
Couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling
His ravaged soul opened up at last
As long-buried memories flooded from the past

Black ink against the paper lined
On and on as he spoke his mind
Comrades-in-arms; friends ‘till the last
White letter on green green grass…..

His tears spilled and on the paper fell
As he wrote it all down; describing their hell
Fevered and hard; the words came fast
Purging his soul as he relived their past

Black ink against the paper lined
On and on as he spoke his mind
Comrades-in-arms; friends till the last
White letter on green green grass…..

poem by Julie Dant
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Beggar To Beggar Cried

'TIME to put off the world and go somewhere
And find my health again in the sea air,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'And make my soul before my pate is bare.-
'And get a comfortable wife and house
To rid me of the devil in my shoes,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'And the worse devil that is between my thighs.'
And though I'd marry with a comely lass,
She need not be too comely -- let it pass,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'But there's a devil in a looking-glass.'
'Nor should she be too rich, because the rich
Are driven by wealth as beggars by the itch,'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'And cannot have a humorous happy speech.'
'And there I'll grow respected at my ease,
And hear amid the garden's nightly peace.'
Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,
'The wind-blown clamour of the barnacle-geese.'

poem by William Butler Yeats
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