PYF Poem

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Laverna: Mar 21, 2013

One of my favourites (Dulce Et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen) has already been posted a few times, but here's my other favourite:

Sea Fever - John Masefield

quote:

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;
And the wheel�s kick and the wind�s song and the white sail�s shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea�s face, and a grey dawn breaking,

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull�s way and the whale�s way where the wind�s like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick�s over.

# ? Jun 5, 2014 15:27

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# ? Apr 19, 2024 19:03

Lithiumsun: Oct 18, 2012

One of my favourites:

The Fisherman

Untamed waters still remain after a thousand years.
Idle flowers become nothing in a single night.
These days, the frivolous world is too narrow.
How can it compare with life in a fishing boat?

--Gao Chan (late 9th century)

# ? Jun 5, 2014 17:52

Patter Song: Mar 26, 2010; Hereby it is manifest that during the time men live without a common power to keep them all in awe, they are in that condition which is called war; and such a war as is of every man against every man.; Fun Shoe

John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester posted:

You Ladyes all of Merry England
Who have been to kisse the Dutchesse's hand,
Pray did you lately observe in the Show
A Noble Italian call'd Signior Dildo?
The Signior was one of her Highness's Train [5]
And helpt to Conduct her over the Main,
But now she Crys out to the Duke I will go,
I have no more need for Seignior Dildo.
At the Signe of the Crosse in Saint James's Street,
When next you go thither to make your Selfes Sweet, [10]
By Buying of Powder, Gloves, Essence, or Soe
You may Chance get a Sight of Signior Dildo.
You'l take him at first for no Person of Note
Because he appears in a plain Leather Coat:
But when you his virtuous Abilities know [15]
You'll fall down and Worship Signior Dildo.
My Lady Southesk, Heav'ns prosper her for't,
First Cloath'd him in Satten, then brought him to Court;
But his Head in the Circle, he Scarcely durst Show,
So modest a Youth was Signior Dildo. [20]
The good Lady Suffolk thinking no harm,
Had got this poor Stranger hid under her Arm:
Lady Betty by Chance came the Secret to know,
And from her own Mother, Stole Signior Dildo:
The Countesse of Falmouth, of whom People tell [25]
Her Footmen wear Shirts of a Guinea an Ell:
Might Save the Expence, if she did but know
How Lusty a Swinger is Signior Dildo.
By the Help of this Gallant the Countesse of Rafe
Against the feirce Harris preserv'd her Self Safe: [30]
She Stifl'd him almost beneath her Pillow,
So Closely she imbrac'd Signior Dildo.
Our dainty fine Dutchesse's have got a Trick
To Doat on a Fool, for the Sake of his Prick,
The Fopps were undone, did their Graces but know [35]
The Discretion and vigor of Signior Dildo.
That Pattern of Virtue, her Grace of Cleaveland,
Has Swallow'd more Pricks, then the Ocean has Sand,
But by Rubbing and Scrubbing, so large it do's grow,
It is fit for just nothing but Signior Dildo. [40]
The Dutchesse of Modena, tho' she looks high,
With such a Gallant is contented to Lye:
And for fear the English her Secrets shou'd know,
For a Gentleman Usher took Signior Dildo.
The countess of the Cockpit (who knows not her Name) [45]
She's famous in Story, for a Killing Dame:
When all her old Lovers forsake her I Trow
She'l then be contented with Signior Dildo.
Red Howard, Red Sheldon, and Temple so tall
Complain of his absence so long from Whitehall: [50]
Signior Barnard has promis'd a Journy to goe,
And bring back his Countryman Signior Dildo.
Doll Howard no longer with his Highness must Range,
And therefore is profer'd this Civill Exchange:
Her Teeth being rotten, she Smells best below, [55]
And needs must be fitted for Signior Dildo.
St Albans with Wrinkles and Smiles in his Face
Whose kindnesse to Strangers, becomes his high Place,
In his Coach and Six Horses is gone to Pergo,
To take the fresh Air with Signior Dildo. [60]
Were this Signior but known to the Citizen Fopps
He'd keep their fine Wives from the Foremen of Shops,
But the Rascalls deserve their Horns shou'd Still grow,
For Burning the Pope, and his Nephew Dildo.
Tom Killigrews wife, North Hollands fine Flower, [65]
At the Sight of this Signior, did fart, and Belch Sow'r,
And her Dutch Breeding farther to Show,
Says welcome to England, myn Heer Van Dildo.
He civilly came to the Cockpitt one night,
And profer'd his Service to fair Madam Knight, [70]
Quoth she, I intrigue with Captain Cazzo
Your Nose in myne Arse good Seignior Dildo.
This Signior is sound, safe, ready, and Dumb,
As ever was Candle, Carret, or Thumb:
Then away with these nasty devices, and Show [75]
How you rate the just merits of Signior Dildo.
Count Cazzo who carryes his Nose very high,
In Passion he Swore, his Rivall shou'd Dye,
Then Shutt up himself, to let the world know,
Flesh and Blood cou'd not bear it from Signior Dildo. [80]
A Rabble of Pricks, who were welcome before,
Now finding the Porter deny'd 'em the Door,
Maliciously waited his coming below,
And inhumanely fell on Signior Dildo.
Nigh weary'd out, the poor Stranger did fly [85]
And along the Pallmall, they follow'd full Cry,
The Women concern'd from every Window,
Cry'd, Oh! for Heavn's sake save Signior Dildo.
The good Lady Sandys, burst into a Laughter
To see how the Ballocks came wobbling after, [90]
And had not their weight retarded the Fo
Indeed 't had gone hard with Signior Dildo.

# ? Jun 5, 2014 21:49

KazigluBey: Oct 30, 2011; boner

Running Orders by Lena Khalaf Tuffaha posted:

They call us now.
Before they drop the bombs.
The phone rings
and someone who knows my first name
calls and says in perfect Arabic
�This is David.�
And in my stupor of sonic booms and glass shattering symphonies
still smashing around in my head
I think "Do I know any Davids in Gaza?"
They call us now to say
Run.
You have 58 seconds from the end of this message.
Your house is next.
They think of it as some kind of war time courtesy.
It doesn�t matter that
there is nowhere to run to.
It means nothing that the borders are closed
and your papers are worthless
and mark you only for a life sentence
in this prison by the sea
and the alleyways are narrow
and there are more human lives
packed one against the other
more than any other place on earth
Just run.
We aren�t trying to kill you.
It doesn�t matter that
you can�t call us back to tell us
the people we claim to want aren�t in your house
that there�s no one here
except you and your children
who were cheering for Argentina
sharing the last loaf of bread for this week
counting candles left in case the power goes out.
It doesn�t matter that you have children.
You live in the wrong place
and now is your chance to run
to nowhere.
It doesn�t matter
that 58 seconds isn�t long enough
to find your wedding album
or your son�s favorite blanket
or your daughter�s almost completed college application
or your shoes
or to gather everyone in the house.
It doesn�t matter what you had planned.
It doesn�t matter who you are
Prove you�re human.
Prove you stand on two legs.
Run.

# ? Jul 18, 2014 17:45

ToxicSlurpee: Nov 5, 2003; -=SEND HELP=-; Pillbug

Haiku sure is great,
But does not always make sense.
Refrigerator.

# ? Jul 18, 2014 17:53

God Of Paradise: Jan 23, 2012; You know, I'd be less worried about my 16 year old daughter dating a successful 40 year old cartoonist than dating a 16 year old loser.

I mean, Jesus, kid, at least date a motherfucker with abortion money and house to have sex at where your mother and I don't have to hear it. Also, if he treats her poorly, boom, that asshole's gonna catch a statch charge.

Please, John K. Date my daughter... Save her from dating smelly dropouts who wanna-be Soundcloud rappers.

What ever happened to predictability?
The milkman, the paperboy, evening TV.

Everywhere you look , everywhere you go (there's a heart).
There's a heart
A hand to hold onto.

Everywhere you look , everywhere you go.
There's a face
Of somebody who needs you.

When you're lost out there and you're all alone,
A light is waiting to carry you home,
Everywhere you look.

- John Stamos Esquire the third.

# ? Aug 10, 2014 07:12

syscall girl: Nov 7, 2009; by FactsAreUseless; Fun Shoe

God Of Paradise posted:

What ever happened to predictability?
The milkman, the paperboy, evening TV.

Everywhere you look , everywhere you go (there's a heart).
There's a heart
A hand to hold onto.

Everywhere you look , everywhere you go.
There's a face
Of somebody who needs you.

When you're lost out there and you're all alone,
A light is waiting to carry you home,
Everywhere you look.

- John Stamos Esquire the third.

Through early morning fog I see
visions of the things to be
the pains that are withheld for me
I realize and I can see...
that suicide is painless
it brings on many changes
and I can take or leave it if I please.
I try to find a way to make
all our little joys relate
without that ever-present hate
but now I know that it's too late, and...
The game of life is hard to play
I'm gonna lose it anyway
The losing card I'll someday lay
so this is all I have to say.
The only way to win is cheat
And lay it down before I'm beat
and to another give my seat
for that's the only painless feat.
The sword of time will pierce our skins
It doesn't hurt when it begins
But as it works its way on in
The pain grows stronger...watch it grin, but...
A brave man once requested me
to answer questions that are key
is it to be or not to be
and I replied 'oh why ask me?'
'Cause suicide is painless
it brings on many changes
and I can take or leave it if I please.
...and you can do the same thing if you please.

# ? Aug 10, 2014 07:26

spank my snatch: Jun 4, 2009

There should be more Blake

William Blake posted:

O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

post blake fuckers

William Blake posted:

I wander thro� each charter�d street,
Near where the charter�d Thames does flow.
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every Man,
In every Infants cry of fear,
In every voice: in every ban,
The mind-forg�d manacles I hear

How the Chimney-sweepers cry
Every black�ning Church appalls,
And the hapless Soldiers sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls

But most thro� midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlots curse
Blasts the new-born Infants tear
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse

# ? Aug 10, 2014 07:40

syscall girl: Nov 7, 2009; by FactsAreUseless; Fun Shoe

Rintrah roars, and shakes his fires in the burden�d air;
Hungry clouds swag on the deep.

Once meek, and in a perilous path,
The just man kept his course along
The vale of death.
Roses are planted where thorns grow,
And on the barren heath
Sing the honey bees.

Then the perilous path was planted,
And a river and a spring
On every cliff and tomb,
And on the bleach�d bones
Red clay brought forth;

Till the villain left the paths of ease,
To walk in perilous paths, and drive
The just man into barren climes.

Now the sneaking serpent walks
In mild humility,
And the just man rages in the wilds
Where lions roam.

Rintrah roars, and shakes his fires in the burden�d air;
Hungry clouds swag on the deep.

AS a new heaven is begun, and it is now thirty-three years since its advent, the Eternal Hell revives. And Io! Swedenborg is the Angel sitting at the tomb: his writings are the linen clothes folded up. Now is the dominion of Edom, and the return of Adam into Paradise. See Isaiah xxxiv and xxxv chap. 1
Without Contraries is no progression. Attraction and Repulsion, Reason and Energy, Love and Hate, are necessary to Human existence. 2
From these contraries spring what the religious call Good and Evil. Good is the passive that obeys Reason. Evil is the active springing from Energy. 3
Good is Heaven. Evil is Hell. 4

The Voice of the Devil

All Bibles or sacred codes have been the causes of the following Errors:� 5
1. That Man has two real existing principles, viz. a Body and a Soul. 6
2. That Energy, call�d Evil, is alone from the Body; and that Reason, call�d Good, is alone from the Soul. 7
3. That God will torment Man in Eternity for following his Energies. 8
But the following Contraries to these are True:� 9
1. Man has no Body distinct from his Soul; for that call�d Body is a portion of Soul discern�d by the five Senses, the chief inlets of Soul in this age. 10
2. Energy is the only life, and is from the Body; and Reason is the bound or outward circumference of Energy. 11
3. Energy is Eternal Delight. 12

Those who restrain Desire, do so because theirs is weak enough to be restrained; and the restrainer or Reason usurps its place and governs the unwilling. 13
And being restrained, it by degrees becomes passive, till it is only the shadow of Desire. 14
The history of this is written in Paradise Lost, and the Governor or Reason is call�d Messiah. 15
And the original Archangel, or possessor of the command of the Heavenly Host, is call�d the Devil or Satan, and his children are call�d Sin and Death. 16
But in the Book of Job, Milton�s Messiah is called Satan. 17
For this history has been adopted by both parties. 18
It indeed appear�d to Reason as if Desire was cast out; but the Devil�s account is, that the Messiah fell, and formed a Heaven of what he stole from the Abyss. 19
This is shown in the Gospel, where he prays to the Father to send the Comforter, or Desire, that Reason may have Ideas to build on; the Jehovah of the Bible being no other than he who dwells in flaming fire. 20
Know that after Christ�s death, he became Jehovah. 21
But in Milton, the Father is Destiny, the Son a Ratio of the five senses, and the Holy-ghost Vacuum! 22
Note. The reason Milton wrote in fetters when he wrote of Angels and God, and at liberty when of Devils and Hell, is because he was a true Poet, and of the Devil�s party without knowing it. 23

A Memorable Fancy

As I was walking among the fires of Hell, delighted with the enjoyments of Genius, which to Angels look like torment and insanity, I collected some of their Proverbs; thinking that as the sayings used in a nation mark its character, so the Proverbs of Hell show the nature of Infernal wisdom better than any description of buildings or garments. 24
When I came home, on the abyss of the five senses, where a flat-sided steep frowns over the present world, I saw a mighty Devil, folded in black clouds, hovering on the sides of the rock: with corroding fires he wrote the following sentence now perceived by the minds of men, and read by them on earth:�
How do you know but ev�ry Bird that cuts the airy way,
Is an immense World of Delight, clos�d by your senses five?
25

Proverbs of Hell

In seed time learn, in harvest teach, in winter enjoy. 26
Drive your cart and your plough over the bones of the dead. 27
The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom. 28
Prudence is a rich, ugly old maid courted by Incapacity. 29
He who desires but acts not, breeds pestilence. 30
The cut worm forgives the plough. 31
Dip him in the river who loves water. 32
A fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees. 33
He whose face gives no light, shall never become a star. 34
Eternity is in love with the productions of time. 35
The busy bee has no time for sorrow. 36
The hours of folly are measur�d by the clock; but of wisdom, no clock can measure. 37
All wholesome food is caught without a net or a trap. 38
Bring out number, weight, and measure in a year of dearth. 39
No bird soars too high, if he soars with his own wings. 40
A dead body revenges not injuries. 41
The most sublime act is to set another before you. 42
If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise. 43
Folly is the cloak of knavery. 44
Shame is Pride�s cloak. 45
Prisons are built with stones of Law, brothels with bricks of Religion. 46
The pride of the peacock is the glory of God. 47
The lust of the goat is the bounty of God. 48
The wrath of the lion is the wisdom of God. 49
The nakedness of woman is the work of God. 50
Excess of sorrow laughs. Excess of joy weeps. 51
The roaring of lions, the howling of wolves, the raging of the stormy sea, and the destructive sword are portions of eternity too great for the eye of man. 52
The fox condemns the trap, not himself. 53
Joys impregnate. Sorrows bring forth. 54
Let man wear the fell of the lion, woman the fleece of the sheep. 55
The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship. 56
The selfish, smiling fool, and the sullen, frowning fool shall be both thought wise, that they may be a rod. 57
What is now proved was once only imagin�d. 58
The rat, the mouse, the fox, the rabbit watch the roots; the lion, the tiger, the horse, the elephant watch the fruits. 59
The cistern contains: the fountain overflows. 60
One thought fills immensity. 61
Always be ready to speak your mind, and a base man will avoid you. 62
Everything possible to be believ�d is an image of truth. 63
The eagle never lost so much time as when he submitted to learn of the crow. 64
The fox provides for himself; but God provides for the lion. 65
Think in the morning. Act in the noon. Eat in the evening. Sleep in the night. 66
He who has suffer�d you to impose on him, knows you. 67
As the plough follows words, so God rewards prayers. 68
The tigers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction. 69
Expect poison from the standing water. 70
You never know what is enough unless you know what is more than enough. 71
Listen to the fool�s reproach! it is a kingly title! 72
The eyes of fire, the nostrils of air, the mouth of water, the beard of earth. 73
The weak in courage is strong in cunning. 74
The apple tree never asks the beech how he shall grow; nor the lion, the horse, how he shall take his prey. 75
The thankful receiver bears a plentiful harvest. 76
If others had not been foolish, we should be so. 77
The soul of sweet delight can never be defil�d. 78
When thou seest an eagle, thou seest a portion of Genius; lift up thy head! 79
As the caterpillar chooses the fairest leaves to lay her eggs on, so the priest lays his curse on the fairest joys. 80
To create a little flower is the labour of ages. 81
drat braces. Bless relaxes. 82
The best wine is the oldest, the best water the newest. 83
Prayers plough not! Praises reap not! 84
Joys laugh not! Sorrows weep not! 85
The head Sublime, the heart Pathos, the genitals Beauty, the hands and feet Proportion. 86
As the air to a bird or the sea to a fish, so is contempt to the contemptible. 87
The crow wish�d everything was black, the owl that everything was white. 88
Exuberance is Beauty. 89
If the lion was advised by the fox, he would be cunning. 90
Improvement makes straight roads; but the crooked roads without improvement are roads of Genius. 91
Sooner murder an infant in its cradle than nurse unacted desires. 92
Where man is not, nature is barren. 93
Truth can never be told so as to be understood, and not be believ�d. 94
Enough! or Too much. 95

The ancient Poets animated all sensible objects with Gods or Geniuses, calling them by the names and adorning them with the properties of woods, rivers, mountains, lakes, cities, nations, and whatever their enlarged and numerous senses could perceive. 96
And particularly they studied the Genius of each city and country, placing it under its Mental Deity; 97
Till a System was formed, which some took advantage of, and enslav�d the vulgar by attempting to realise or abstract the Mental Deities from their objects�thus began Priesthood; 98
Choosing forms of worship from poetic tales. 99
And at length they pronounc�d that the Gods had order�d such things. 100
Thus men forgot that All Deities reside in the Human breast. 101

A Memorable Fancy

The Prophets Isaiah and Ezekiel dined with me, and I asked them how they dared so roundly to assert that God spoke to them; and whether they did not think at the time that they would be misunderstood, and so be the cause of imposition. 102
Isaiah answer�d: �I saw no God, nor heard any, in a finite organical perception; but my senses discover�d the infinite in everything, and as I was then persuaded, and remain confirm�d, that the voice of honest indignation is the voice of God, I cared not for consequences, but wrote.� 103
Then I asked: �Does a firm persuasion that a thing is so, make it so?� 104
He replied: �All Poets believe that it does, and in ages of imagination this firm persuasion removed mountains; but many are not capable of a firm persuasion of anything.� 105
Then Ezekiel said: �The philosophy of the East taught the first principles of human perception. Some nations held one principle for the origin, and some another: we of Israel taught that the Poetic Genius (as you now call it) was the first principle and all the others merely derivative, which was the cause of our despising the Priests and Philosophers of other countries, and prophesying that all Gods would at last be proved to originate in ours and to be the tributaries of the Poetic Genius. It was this that our great poet, King David, desired so fervently and invokes so pathetically, saying by this he conquers enemies and governs kingdoms; and we so loved our God, that we cursed in his name all the Deities of surrounding nations, and asserted that they had rebelled. From these opinions the vulgar came to think that all nations would at last be subject to the Jews.� 106
�This,� said he, �like all firm persuasions, is come to pass; for all nations believe the Jews� code and worship the Jews� god, and what greater subjection can be?� 107
I heard this with some wonder, and must confess my own conviction. After dinner I ask�d Isaiah to favour the world with his lost works; he said none of equal value was lost. Ezekiel said the same of his. 108
I also asked Isaiah what made him go naked and barefoot three years. He answer�d: �The same that made our friend Diogenes, the Grecian.� 109
I then asked Ezekiel why he ate dung, and lay so long on his right and left side. He answer�d, �The desire of raising other men into a perception of the infinite: this the North American tribes practise, and is he honest who resists his genius or conscience only for the sake of present ease or gratification?� 110

The ancient tradition that the world will be consumed in fire at the end of six thousand years is true, as I have heard from Hell. 111
For the cherub with his flaming sword is hereby commanded to leave his guard at tree of life; and when he does, the whole creation will be consumed and appear infinite and holy, whereas it now appears finite and corrupt. 112
This will come to pass by an improvement of sensual enjoyment. 113
But first the notion that man has a body distinct from his soul is to be expunged; this I shall do by printing in the infernal method, by corrosives, which in Hell are salutary and medicinal, melting apparent surfaces away, and displaying the infinite which was hid. 114
If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite. 115
For man has closed himself up till he sees all things thro� narrow chinks of his cavern. 116

A Memorable Fancy

I was in a Printing-house in Hell, and saw the method in which knowledge is transmitted from generation to generation. 117
In the first chamber was a Dragon-Man, clearing away the rubbish from a cave�s mouth; within, a number of Dragons were hollowing the cave. 118
In the second chamber was a Viper folding round the rock and the cave, and others adorning it with gold, silver, and precious stones. 119
In the third chamber was an Eagle with wings and feathers of air: he caused the inside of the cave to be infinite. Around were numbers of Eagle-like men who built palaces in the immense cliffs. 120
In the fourth chamber were Lions of flaming fire, raging around and melting the metals into living fluids. 121
In the fifth chamber were Unnamed forms, which cast the metals into the expanse. 122
There they were received by Men who occupied the sixth chamber, and took the forms of books and were arranged in libraries. 123

The Giants who formed this world into its sensual existence, and now seem to live in it in chains, are in truth the causes of its life and the sources of all activity; but the chains are the cunning of weak and tame minds which have power to resist energy. According to the proverb, the weak in courage is strong in cunning. 124
Thus one portion of being is the Prolific, the other the Devouring. To the Devourer it seems as if the producer was in his chains; but it is not so, he only takes portions of existence and fancies that the whole. 125
But the Prolific would cease to be Prolific unless the Devourer, as a sea, received the excess of his delights. 126
Some will say: �Is not God alone the Prolific? I answer: �God only Acts and Is, in existing beings or Men.� 127
These two classes of men are always upon earth, and they should be enemies: whoever tries to reconcile them seeks to destroy existence. 128
Religion is an endeavour to reconcile the two. 129
Note. Jesus Christ did not wish to unite, but to separate them, as in the Parable of sheep and goats! And He says: �I came not to send Peace, but a Sword.� 130
Messiah or Satan or Tempter was formerly thought to be one of the Antediluvians who are our Energies. 131

A Memorable Fancy

An Angel came to me and said: �O pitiable, foolish young man! O horrible! O dreadful state! Consider the hot, burning dungeon thou art preparing for thyself to all Eternity, to which thou art going in such career.� 132
I said: �Perhaps you will be willing to show me my eternal lot, and we will contemplate together upon it, and see whether your lot or mine is most desirable.� 133
So he took me thro� a stable, and thro� a church, and down into the church vault, at the end of which was a mill. Thro� the mill we went, and came to a cave. Down the winding cavern we groped our tedious way, till a void boundless as a nether sky appear�d beneath us, and we held by the roots of trees, and hung over this immensity. But I said: �If you please, we will commit ourselves to this void, and see whether Providence is here also. If you will not, I will.� But he answer�d: �Do not presume, O young man, but as we here remain, behold thy lot which will soon appear when the darkness passes away.� 134
So I remain�d with him, sitting in the twisted root of an oak. He was suspended in a fungus, which hung with the head downward into the deep. 135
By degrees we beheld the infinite Abyss, fiery as the smoke of a burning city; beneath us, at an immense distance, was the sun, black but shining; round it were fiery tracks on which revolv�d vast spiders, crawling after their prey, which flew, or rather swum, in the infinite deep, in the most terrific shapes of animals sprung from corruption; and the air was full of them, and seem�d composed of them�these are Devils, and are called Powers of the Air. I now asked my companion which was my eternal lot? He said: �Between the black and white spiders.� 136
But now, from between the black and white spiders, a cloud and fire burst and rolled thro� the deep, blackening all beneath; so that the nether deep grew black as a sea, and rolled with a terrible noise. Beneath us was nothing now to be seen but a black tempest, till looking East between the clouds and the waves we saw a cataract of blood mixed with fire, and not many stones� throw from us appear�d and sunk again the scaly fold of a monstrous serpent. At last, to the East, distant about three degrees, appear�d a fiery crest above the waves. Slowly it reared like a ridge of golden rocks, till we discover�d two globes of crimson fire, from which the sea fled away in clouds of smoke; and now we saw it was the head of Leviathan. His forehead was divided into streaks of green and purple like those on a tiger�s forehead. Soon we saw his mouth and red gills hang just above the raging foam, tinging the black deep with beams of blood, advancing toward us with all the fury of a Spiritual Existence. 137

My friend the Angel climb�d up from his station into the mill: I remain�d alone, and then this appearance was no more; but I found myself sitting on a pleasant bank beside a river, by moonlight, hearing a harper, who sung to the harp; and his theme was: �The man who never alters his opinion is like standing water, and breeds reptiles of the mind.� 138
But I arose and sought for the mill, and there I found my Angel, who, surprised, asked me how I escaped. 139
I answer�d: �All that we saw was owing to your metaphysics; for when you ran away, I found myself on a bank by moonlight hearing a harper. But now we have seen my eternal lot, shall I show you yours?� He laugh�d at my proposal; but I, by force, suddenly caught him in my arms, and flew westerly thro� the night, till we were elevated above the earth�s shadow; then I flung myself with him directly into the body of the sun. Here I clothed myself in white, and taking in my hand Swedenborg�s volumes, sunk from the glorious clime, and passed all the planets till we came to Saturn. Here I stay�d to rest, and then leap�d into the void between Saturn and the fixed stars. 140
�Here,� said I, �is your lot, in this space�if space it may be call�d.� Soon we saw the stable and the church, and I took him to the altar and open�d the Bible, and lo! it was a deep pit, into which I descended, driving the Angel before me. Soon we saw seven houses of brick. One we enter�d; in it were a number of monkeys, baboons, and all of that species, chain�d by the middle, grinning and snatching at one another, but withheld by the shortness of their chains. However, I saw that they sometimes grew numerous, and then the weak were caught by the strong, and with a grinning aspect, first coupled with, and then devour�d, by plucking off first one limb and then another, till the body was left a helpless trunk. This, after grinning and kissing it with seeming fondness, they devour�d too; and here and there I saw one savourily picking the flesh off of his own tail. As the stench terribly annoy�d us both, we went into the mill, and I in my hand brought the skeleton of a body, which in the mill was Aristotle�s Analytics. 141
So the Angel said: �Thy phantasy has imposed upon me, and thou oughtest to be ashamed.� 142
I answer�d: �We impose on one another, and it is but lost time to converse with you whose works are only Analytics.� 143

I have always found that Angels have the vanity to speak of themselves as the Only Wise. This they do with a confident insolence sprouting from systematic reasoning. 144
Thus Swedenborg boasts that what he writes is new; tho� it is only the Contents or Index of already publish�d books. 145
A man carried a monkey about for a show, and because he was a little wiser than the monkey, grew vain, and conceiv�d himself as much wiser than seven men. It is so with Swedenborg: he shows the folly of churches, and exposes hypocrites, till he imagines that all are religious, and himself the single one on earth that ever broke a net. 146
Now hear a plain fact: Swedenborg has not written one new truth. Now hear another: he has written all the old falsehoods. 147
And now hear the reason. He conversed with Angels who are all religious, and conversed not with Devils who all hate religion, for he was incapable thro� his conceited notions. 148
Thus Swedenborg�s writings are a recapitulation of all superficial opinions, and an analysis of the more sublime�but no further. 149
Have now another plain fact. Any man of mechanical talents may, from the writings of Paracelsus or Jacob Behmen, produce ten thousand volumes of equal value with Swedenborg�s, and from those of Dante or Shakespear an infinite number. 150
But when he has done this, let him not say that he knows better than his master, for he only holds a candle in sunshine. 151

A Memorable Fancy

Once I saw a Devil in a flame of fire, who arose before an Angel that sat on a cloud, and the Devil utter�d these words:� 152
�The worship of God is: Honouring his gifts in other men, each according to his genius, and loving the greatest men best: those who envy or calumniate great men hate God; for there is no other God.� 153
The Angel hearing this became almost blue; but mastering himself he grew yellow, and at last white, pink, and smiling, and then replied:� 154
�Thou Idolater! is not God One? and is not he visible in Jesus Christ? and has not Jesus Christ given his sanction to the law of ten commandments? and are not all other men fools, sinners, and nothings?� 155
The Devil answer�d: �Bray a fool in a mortar with wheat, yet shall not his folly be beaten out of him. If Jesus Christ is the greatest man, you ought to love Him in the greatest degree. Now hear how He has given His sanction to the law of ten commandments. Did He not mock at the sabbath, and so mock the sabbath�s God; murder those who were murder�d because of Him; turn away the law from the woman taken in adultery; steal the labour of others to support Him; bear false witness when He omitted making a defence before Pilate; covet when He pray�d for His disciples, and when He bid them shake off the dust of their feet against such as refused to lodge them? I tell you, no virtue can exist without breaking these ten commandments. Jesus was all virtue, and acted from impulse, not from rules.� 156
When he had so spoken, I beheld the Angel, who stretched out his arms, embracing the flame of fire, and he was consumed, and arose as Elijah. 157
Note.�This Angel, who is now become a Devil, is my particular friend. We often read the Bible together in its infernal or diabolical sense, which the world shall have if they behave well. 158
I have also The Bible of Hell, which the world shall have whether they will or no. 159
One Law for the Lion and Ox is Oppression.

# ? Aug 10, 2014 07:47

Scandalous Wench: Aug 9, 2010; by Lowtax

A paean for the ages.

Russel Edson posted:

With Sincerest Regrets

Like a white snail the toilet slides into the living room, demanding to be loved.
It is impossible, and we tender our sincerest regrets.
In the book of the heart there is no mention made of plumbing.
And though we have spent our intimacy many times with you, you belong to an unfortunate reference, which we would rather not embrace ...
The toilet slides out of the living room like a white snail, flushing with grief...

# ? Aug 27, 2014 05:16

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# ? Apr 19, 2024 19:03

CROWS EVERYWHERE: Dec 17, 2012; CAW CAW CAW; Dinosaur Gum

Hello friends! While I vainly search for work I have been volunteering at a local group for disabled adults, taking part in both administering the literacy program and running my own little poetry circle/workshop. Clients bring in poems they have created or ones they like and suggest poems for the group to read out and study, while I bring in some of my favourites, some I think they'll find interesting or engaging, and exercises related to some of the poems or adapted from ways the clients write and get inspiration. Because this is Australia, some of the poems are Australia-themed. Most of these haven't been posted here, so, enjoy!

Poetry Dump: Version

Here are a couple by Judith Wright. She wrote about Australian florae et faunae and sometimes on social issues (she was a passionate advocate for indigenous land rights).

Magpies posted:

Along the road the magpies walk
with hands in pockets, left and right.
They tilt their heads, and stroll and talk.
In their well-fitted black and white.

They look like certain gentlemen
who seem most nonchalant and wise
until their meal is served � and then
what clashing beaks, what greedy eyes!

But not one man that I have heard
throws back his head in such a song
of grace and praise � no man nor bird.
Their greed is brief; their joy is long.
For each is born with such a throat
as thanks his God with every note.

Metho Drinker posted:

Under the death of winter's leaves he lies
who cried to Nothing and the terrible night
to be his home and bread. "O take from me
the weight and waterfall ceaseless Time
that batters down my weakness; the knives of light
whose thrust I cannot turn; the cruelty
of human eyes that dare not touch nor pity."
Under the worn leaves of the winter city
safe in the house of Nothing now he lies.

His white and burning girl, his woman of fire,
creeps to his heart and sets a candle there
to melt away the flesh that hides from bone,
to eat the nerve that tethers him in time.
He will lie warm until the bone is bare
and on a dead dark moon he wakes alone.
It was for Death he took her; death is but this;
and yet he is uneasy under her kiss
and winces from that acid of her desire.

Here are two by Oodgeroo Noonuccal, aka Kath Walker. She was a poet and prominent political activist, and Wikipedia informs me she was also the first Aboriginal Australian to publish a book of verse. If you want some context for her writing, it was only in the 1967 Referendum (a year after The Dawn Is At Hand was published) that Aboriginal people were given full citizenship rights. My grandparents, immigrants from the UK, had more rights as Australian citizens before they got off the boat than Aboriginal people.

The Dawn Is At Hand posted:

Dark brothers, first Australian race,
Soon you will take your rightful place
In the brotherhood long waited for,
Fringe dwellers no more.

Sore, sore the tears you shed
When hope seemed folly and justice dead.
Was the long night wear? Look up, dark band,
The dawn is at hand.

Go forward proudly and unafraid
To your birthright all too long delayed,
For soon now the shame of the past
Will be over at last.

You will be welcomed mateship-wise
In industry and enterprise;
No profession will bar the door,
Fringe-dwellers no more.

Dark and white upon common ground
In club and office and social sound,
Yours the feel of a friendly land,
The grip of the hand.

Sharing the same equality
In college and university
All ambitions of hand or brain
Yours to attain.

For ban and bias will soon be gone,
The future beckons you bravely on
To art and letters and nation lore,
Fringe-dwellers no more.

No More Boomerang posted:

No more boomerang
No more spear;
Now all civilized-
Colour bar and beer.

No more corroboree,
Gay dance and din.
Now we got movies,
And pay to go in.

No more sharing
What the hunter brings.
Now we work for money,
Then pay it back for things.

Now we track bosses
To catch a few bob,
Now we go walkabout
On bus to the job.

One time naked,
Who never knew shame;
Now we put clothes on
To hide whatsaname.

No more gunya,
Now bungalow,
Paid by hire purchase
In twenty year or so.

Lay down the stone axe,
Take up the steel,
And work like a friend of the family
For a white man meal.

No more firesticks
That made the whites scoff.
Now all electric,
And no better off.

Bunyip he finish,
Now got instead
White fella Bunyip,
Call him Red.

Abstract picture now-
What they coming at?
Cripes, in our caves we
Did better than that.

Black hunted wallaby,
White hunt dollar;
White fella witch-doctor
Wear dog-collar.

No more message-stick;
Lubras and lads
Got television now.
Mostly ads.

Lay down the woomera,
Lay down the waddy.
Now we got atom-bomb,
End everybody.

Here is a classic piece of :australia:

poetry, by AB "Banjo" Paterson.

Clancy of the Overflow posted:

I had written him a letter which I had, for want of better
Knowledge, sent to where I met him down the Lachlan, years ago,
He was shearing when I knew him, so I sent the letter to him,
Just �on spec�, addressed as follows, �Clancy, of The Overflow�.

And an answer came directed in a writing unexpected,
(And I think the same was written with a thumb-nail dipped in tar)
'Twas his shearing mate who wrote it, and verbatim I will quote it:
�Clancy's gone to Queensland droving, and we don't know where he are.�

In my wild erratic fancy visions come to me of Clancy
Gone a-droving �down the Cooper� where the Western drovers go;
As the stock are slowly stringing, Clancy rides behind them singing,
For the drover's life has pleasures that the townsfolk never know.

And the bush hath friends to meet him, and their kindly voices greet him
In the murmur of the breezes and the river on its bars,
And he sees the vision splendid of the sunlit plains extended,
And at night the wond'rous glory of the everlasting stars.

I am sitting in my dingy little office, where a stingy
Ray of sunlight struggles feebly down between the houses tall,
And the foetid air and gritty of the dusty, dirty city
Through the open window floating, spreads its foulness over all

And in place of lowing cattle, I can hear the fiendish rattle
Of the tramways and the 'buses making hurry down the street,
And the language uninviting of the gutter children fighting,
Comes fitfully and faintly through the ceaseless tramp of feet.

And the hurrying people daunt me, and their pallid faces haunt me
As they shoulder one another in their rush and nervous haste,
With their eager eyes and greedy, and their stunted forms and weedy,
For townsfolk have no time to grow, they have no time to waste.

And I somehow rather fancy that I'd like to change with Clancy,
Like to take a turn at droving where the seasons come and go,
While he faced the round eternal of the cash-book and the journal --
But I doubt he'd suit the office, Clancy, of �The Overflow�.

And, just because, here is the reply the actual "Clancy" (Thomas Gerald Clancy) wrote!

quote:

Neath the star-spangled dome
Of my Austral home,
When watching by the camp fire's ruddy glow,
Oft in the flickering blaze
Is presented to my gaze
The sun-drenched kindly faces
Of the men of Overflow.

Now, though years have passed forever
Since I used, with best endeavour
Clip the fleeces of the jumbucks
Down the Lachlan years ago,
Still in memory linger traces
Of many cheerful faces,
And the well-remembered visage
Of the Bulletin's "Banjo".

Tired of life upon the stations,
With their wretched, scanty rations,
I took a sudden notion
That a droving I would go;
Then a roving fancy took me,
Which has never since forsook me,
And decided me to travel,
And leave the Overflow.

So with maiden ewes from Tubbo,
I passed en route to Dubbo,
And across the Lig'num country
'where the Barwon waters flow;
Thence onward o'er the Narran,
By scrubby belts of Yarran,
To where the landscape changes
And the cotton bushes grow.

And my path I've often wended
Over drought-scourged plains extended,
where phantom lakes and forests
Forever come and go;
And the stock in hundreds dying,
Along the road are lying,
To count among the 'pleasures"
That townsfolk never know.

Over arid plains extended
My route has often tended,
Droving cattle to the Darling,
Or along the Warrego;
Oft with nightly rest impeded,
when the cattle had stampeded,
Save I sworn that droving pleasures
For the future I'd forego.

So of drinking liquid mire
I eventually did tire,
And gave droving up forever
As a life that was too slow.
Now, gold digging, in a measure,
Affords much greater pleasure
To your obedient servant,
"Clancy of the Overflow".

e: I forgot Henry Lawson :v:

He and Banjo did not agree with each other's interpretation of THE BUSH. Personally, I prefer Lawson's version of "The bush hates you and wants to kill you", if only because I had to grow up in a rural/remote low socioeconomic area. :cheeky:

(A couple of his not-about-the-bush ones have already been posted, because they are good on their own merits.)

Andy's Gone With Cattle posted:

Our Andy's gone to battle now
'Gainst Drought, the red marauder;
Our Andy's gone with cattle now
Across the Queensland border.

He's left us in dejection now,
Our thoughts with him are roving;
It's dull on this selection now,
Since Andy went a-droving.

Who now shall wear the cheerful face
In times when things are slackest?
And who shall whistle round the place
When Fortune frowns her blackest?

Oh, who shall cheek the squatter now
When he comes round us snarling?
His tongue is growing hotter now
Since Andy crossed the Darling.

The gates are out of order now,
In storms the `riders' rattle;
For far across the border now
Our Andy's gone with cattle.

Poor Aunty's looking thin and white;
And Uncle's cross with worry;
And poor old Blucher howls all night
Since Andy left Macquarie.

Oh, may the showers in torrents fall,
And all the tanks run over;
And may the grass grow green and tall
In pathways of the drover;

And may good angels send the rain
On desert stretches sandy;
And when the summer comes again
God grant 'twill bring us Andy.

e2: the wife of edit
Who could have forgotten the magnum opus of Australia's richest person, Gina Rinehart? If you've ever wanted to know what Vogon poetry looks like (and what a Vogon looks like), well, here is your answer.

Our Future posted:

The globe is sadly groaning with debt, poverty and strife
And billions now are pleading to enjoy a better life
Their hope lies with resources buried deep within the earth
And the enterprise and capital which give each project worth
Is our future threatened with massive debts run up by political hacks
Who dig themselves out by unleashing rampant tax
The end result is sending Australian investment, growth and jobs offshore
This type of direction is harmful to our core
Some envious unthinking people have been conned
To think prosperity is created by waving a magic wand
Through such unfortunate ignorance, too much abuse is hurled
Against miners, workers and related industries who strive to build the world
Develop North Australia, embrace multiculturalism and welcome short term foreign workers to our shores
To benefit from the export of our minerals and ores
The world's poor need our resources: do not leave them to their fate
Our nation needs special economic zones and wiser government, before it is too late

CROWS EVERYWHERE has a new favorite as of 08:32 on Sep 9, 2014

# ? Sep 9, 2014 07:46

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