Just whatever

We all start with an empty cup and the farther down the path we wander the less empty our cup becomes.....


Dark star crashes
pouring its light
into ashes

Reason tatters
the forces tear loose
from the axis

Searchlight casting
for faults in the
clouds of delusion

shall we go,
you and I
While we can?
Through
the transitive nightfall
of diamonds

Mirror shatters
in formless reflections
of matter

Glass hand dissolving
to ice petal flowers
revolving

Lady in velvet
recedes
in the nights of goodbye

Shall we go,
you and I
While we can?
Through
the transitive nightfall
of diamonds

---------------------



If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung,
Would you hear my voice come thru the music,
Would you hold it near as it were your own?

It's a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken,
Perhaps they're better left unsung.
I don't know, don't really care
Let there be songs to fill the air.

Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.

Reach out your hand if your cup be empty,
If your cup is full may it be again,
Let it be known there is a fountain,
That was not made by the hands of men.

There is a road, no simple highway,
Between the dawn and the dark of night,
And if you go no one may follow,
That path is for your steps alone.

Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.

But if you fall you fall alone,
If you should stand then who's to guide you?
If I knew the way I would take you home.

La dee da da da, La da da da da, Da da da, Da da, Da da da da da
La da da da, La da da, Da da, La da da da, La da, Da da.

Long ago a tall man told a tale of yesterday,
Searching for the truth to life and not for just a way.
Finding pleasure from this house his ears, they did obey;
In his life a moment's pleasure, never to delay.
He was lost and in his trust he found a new meaning;
Seeing the things in diff'rent lights his life was redeemed.

Words of peace will fill his mind and change his way of life;
Peaceful meetings with his heart have made him more alive.
Meeting wise old women on the cliffs of life itself;
Asking not for pers'nal meaning, more for just himself.
Soon we'll be as he proclaimed in a new way of living;
Take the things you need in life but remember the giving.

Prophesy within your mind and you will work it out;
Prophesy that some will die but only those who doubt.
Then you'll never worry as somtimes you used to do;
Just remember when you're gone there's someone after you, you.

D, any of that yours?

Just the cup part ..... the first two are Dead n the last one was Yes.

Yes, the Dead. Love 'em.

Anything in storage?

A trilogy I 'm trying to put together, ain't quite ready for prime time yet.

Dying



The loneliness in the center of my being
Is an ache
That grows with each tortuous twisting
Remembered as my physicality
Senses covered with a milky opacity
Others silently moaning around and inside and beside
My own confusion
Lonely inner utterances
Mouthing in silence bitter sweet remembrances
That I never knew but somehow felt
I would know
A flickering of growing cold
Rushing about
While lying motionless
How long, how long
Am I there
Still?


Waking

Tasteless
Sightless
Beautiful song
Not sung but
Knowing
Flash of light
Return of sight
Everything thru me
Is flowing
Sea of stars, rolling rolling
Rise and fall
On diamond shore

Don't miss this one



LOTSA STUFF

Thar be treasure here if ye loves poetry ...dig ere ...X

Thar be much good treasure thar, indeed, Gelisgesti.

But forsooth, upon contemplation of the introductory piece ...

What thou lovest well remains,
the rest is dross
What thou lov'st well shall not be reft from thee
What thou lov'st well is thy true heritage
Whose world, or mine or theirs
or is it of none?
First came the seen, then thus the palpable
Elysium, though it were in the halls of hell,
What thou lovest well is thy true heritage
What thou lov'st well shall not be reft from thee

(EZRA POUND, PISAN CANTOS, LXXXI)

... one may be inclined to ask, "Raleigh now, would Sir Walter agree with Ezra, were he not bereft of a head with which to X Pound?"

http://eir.library.utoronto.ca/rpo/display/poem1689.html

Hey Mr. D ..... how gozit?

Buy ya a beer?


Beertender bring us a cupla bars ...

If it ain't here then you don't need to know it!

Well, it used to be here, but it ain't anymore, and I well know it.

But nemmine, slainte mhath, G.

http://www.mindspring.com/~mccarthys/whiskey/

Ah knows whatcha means ..... makes one wish to have paid more attention ..... for memories sake

Excellent site, thx. I just discovered 'Powers Gold Label' Irish whiskey ..... nectar of the Gods.

The Humours of Whiskey

Let your quacks and newspapers be cuttin' their capers
And curing the Vapours, the Scratch and the Gout.
With their medical potions, their pills and their lotions,
Upholdin' their notions, they're mighty put out.
Who can tell the true physic of all things pathetic
And pitch to the Devil Cramp, Colic and Spleen?
Oh you'll find them I think if you take a big drink
With your mouth to the brink of a jug of Poteen.

Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh what botherations no bolt to the nation
Can bring consolation like Poteen me boys.
No liquid cosmetic to lovers athletic
Or ladies pathetic can bring such a bloom
As the sweet, by the powers to the garden of flowers
Never brought it own powers such a darlin' perfume.
And this liquid's so rare if you're willin' to share
To be takin' your hair when its grizzled and dead.
Oh the Sod has the merit to yield the true spirit
So strong it'll shake all the hairs from your head.

Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh since its perfection no doctor's direction
Can cleanse the complexion like Poteen me boys.
As a child in my cradle the nurse from her ladle
Was swillin' her mouth with a notion of ``Pep''
When a drop from her bottle fell into me throttle.
I capered and scrambled right out of her lap.
On the floor I lay crawlin' and screamin' and bawlin'
Till Father and Mother soon came to the fore.
Conceived I lay dying, all wailing and crying
They found I was only a-cryin' for more.

Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh Lord how I'd chuckle if babes in their truckle
Could only be suckled on Poteen me boys.
Through youthful digressions and times of depression
My childhood impression still clung to me mind.
In school and in college the basis of knowledge
I never could gulp 'till with whiskey combined.
Now as older I'm growin', time's ever bestowin'
On Erin's potation a flavour so fine
And how e're they may lecture on Jove and his nectar
Itself is the only true liquid divine.

Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh Lord it's the right thing for courtin' and fightin'
There's nowt so exciting as Poteen me boys.
Come guess me this riddle what beats pipes and fiddle
What's hotter than mustard and wilder than cream?
What best wets your whistle, what's clearer than crystal
Smoother than honey and stronger than steam?
What'll make the dumb talk, what'll make the lame walk --
The elixir of life and philosopher's stone?
And what helped Mr. Brunell to dig the Thames tunnel
Wasn't it Poteen me boys from old Innishowen.

Then stick to the Cratur the best thing in nature
For sinkin' your sorrows and raisin' your joys.
Oh Lord knows I wonder if lightning and thunder
Was made from the plunder of Poteen me boys!

http://www.cs.hut.fi/~zaphod/irish/all_titles.html

Now there's a wholesome site, Gelisgesti. I notice it includes the lovely She Moved Thru The Fair. How very Irish to pen the line "She went her way homeward with one star awake ..."

The onliest thing I noticed missin' was one of me alltime favourites "Slattery's Mounted Fut", but that may be reviewed at the followin'.

http://incolor.inebraska.com/jskean/fut.htm

Ge, I like Dying and Waking. Are you working on the third verse?

So you discovered Power's? I'm of two minds about that. A person could live his life blissfully ignorant of its powers, but then Knowledge is all, and knowing Powers is the ultimate puissance.

Are we getting inta Irish poesy then? The fun begins....

Kara

Whereyabeen?

B, tanky .... yes, # three is proving illusive, rebarth is nay tha aisy ta bae imaginan.....

No Coward Soul Is Mine
By Emily Bronte

No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the worlds storm-troubled sphere:
I see Heavens glories shine,
And faith shines equal, arming me from fear.


O God within my breast.
Almighty, ever-present Deity!
Life -- that in me has rest,
As I -- Undying Life -- have power in Thee!


Vain are the thousand creeds
That move mens hearts: unutterably vain;
Worthless as withered weeds,
Or idlest froth amid the boundless main,


To waken doubt in one
Holding so fast by Thine infinity;
So surely anchored on
The steadfast Rock of immortality.


With wide-embracing love
Thy Spirit animates eternal years,
Pervades and broods above,
Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears.


Though earth and man were gone,
And suns and universes ceased to be,
And Thou wert left alone,
Every existence would exist in Thee.


There is not room for Death,
Nor atom that his might could render void:
Thou -- Thou art Being and Breath,
And what Thou art may never be destroyed.

I will continue JUST AS IF there had not been a political statement made here.

Margo, I bin here. Where you bin? I was thinking about you last week as I contemplated how long a time I would have to spend Down Under to justify the truly outrageous cost of the tickee..3 weeks? a month? six weeks?