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Pastimes : Favorite Quotes -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?


To: mr.mark who wrote (2952)3/7/1999 11:27:00 PM
From: Volsi Mimir  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 13018
 
They end their flight
one by one-
crows at dusk.

Yosa Buson
1716-1783


The truth is rarely pure, and never simple

Oscar Wilde

At the Edge
Diane Keating
Room of One's Own
- Vol 3 #3


At the edge of
a buried forest
she waits for you
the huntress
with momentary magic
mumbling words
to make the moon rise
setting traps
with the semen of dragons

She is the woman
the gods have set aside for you
her hair fluttering
like yellow mothwings
across your chest
her nipples glowing
like fireflies

But don't try to keep her
Bats whirl in her skull
and snails multiply
under her steaming heart
In the half light
she will turn you into
a pale slippery prince
feeding on darkness.



To: mr.mark who wrote (2952)3/8/1999 12:13:00 PM
From: Cheryl Galt  Read Replies (2) | Respond to of 13018
 
"I have seen the truth, and it makes no sense."



To: mr.mark who wrote (2952)3/9/1999 6:14:00 PM
From: Volsi Mimir  Read Replies (2) | Respond to of 13018
 
The Mythical Journey
Edwin Muir- 1937

First in the North. The black sea-tangled beaches,
Brine-bitter stillness, tablet-strewn morass,
Tall women against the sky with heads covered,
The witch's house below the black-toothed mountain,
Wave-echo in the roofless chapel,
The twice-dead castle on the swamped-green mound,
Darkness at noon-day, wheel of fire at midnight,
The level sun and the wild shooting shadows.

How long ago? Then sailing up to summer
Over the edge of the world. Black hill of water,
Rivers of running gold. The sun! The sun!
Then the free summer isles.
But the ship hastened on and brought him to
The towering walls of life and the great kingdom.
Where long he wandered seeking that which sought him
Through all the little hills and shallow valleys.
One whose form and features,
Race and speech he did not know, shapeless, tongueless,
Known to him only by the impotent heart,
And whether at all on earth the place of meeting,
Beyond all knowledge. Only the little hills,
Head-high, and the winding valleys,
Turning, returning, till there grew a pattern,
And it was held. And there stood both in their stations
With the hills between them. And that was the meaning.

Though sometimes through the wavering light and shadow
He thought he saw it a moment as he watched
The red deer walking by the riverside
At evening, when the bells were ringing,
And the bright stream leapt silent from the mountain
Far in the sunset. But as he looked, nothing
Was there but lights and shadows.

.............................And then the vision
Of conclusion without fulfillment.
The plain of glass and in the crystal grave
That which he had sought, that which had sought him,
Glittering in death. And all the dead scattered
Like fallen stars, clustered like leaves hanging
From the sad boughs of the mountainous tree of Adam
Planted far down in Eden. And on the hills
The gods reclined and conversed with each other
From summit to summit.

.............................Conclusion
Without fulfillment. Thence the dream rose upward,
The living dream sprung from the dying vision,
Overarching all. Beneath its branches
He builds in faith and doubt his shaking house.

---==---
Everything is broken[excerpts]
B.Dylan

Broken bottles,Broken plates
Broken switches,Broken gates
Broken dishes, Broken parts
Streets are filled with Broken Hearts
Broken words never meant to be
spoken
EVERYTHING IS BROKEN

Seems like every time you stop and turn
around
Something else just hit the ground
.........
.....
..
.
Everytime you leave and go off
someplace
Things fall to pieces in my face

Broken Hands on Broken ploughs
Broken treaties, Broken vows
Broken pipes, Broken tools
People bending Broken rules
Hound dog howling, bull frog croaking
EVERYTHING IS BROKEN

Dust of Snow

The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree

Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.

Robert Frost