Go Insane by the Doors
Once I had a little game
I liked to crawl back in my brain
I think you know the game I mean
I mean the game called 'go insane'
Now you should try this little game
Just close your eyes forget your name
Forget the world, forget the people
And we'll erect a different steeple.
This little game is fun to do.
Just close your eyes, i'm going too.
And I'm right here, no way to lose
Release control, we're breaking through
And you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again.
The sun is the same in a relative way by you’re older.
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death.
Every year is getting shorter. Never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines.
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way…
excerpt from Time by Pink Floyd
And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.
~Friedrich Nietzsche
"The words we speak become the house we live in" ~Hafiz
Now that’s transparency!!
The Anglo-Saxon Rune Poem (English Translation)
Wizardry
I may be vindictive
But I know better
than to waste my wishes
on revenge.
I may be righteously enraged
But I know violence
heals no wounds
creates no peace
gives no solace
I have learned through misery
that expectations are heralds
of disappointment, prophets
blind and diseased.
Better to envision calm
vistas, pleasing to sensation,
happy successful scenes, merry
and blessed, when wishes
are conceived.
by Laurie Corzett
And just as a counter point to yesterday’s post.. and to brighten the mood a bit
The Charge of the Goddess
Doreen Valiente
Whenever ye have need of anything,
once in the month, and better it be when the moon is full,
then shall ye assemble in some secret place
and adore the spirit of me,
who am Queen of all witches.
There shall ye assemble,
ye who are fain to learn all sorcery,
yet have not won its deepest secrets;
to these will I teach ye all things that are yet unknown.
And ye shall be free from slavery;
and as a sign that ye be truly free,
ye shall be naked in your rites;
and ye shall dance, sing, feast,
make love and music,
all in my praise.
For mine is the ecstasy of spirit,
and mine also is joy on earth;
for my law is love unto all beings.
Keep pure your highest ideals;
strive ever towards them;
let nothing stop you or turn you aside.
For mine is the secret door
which opens upon the Land of Youth,
and mine is the cup of the wine of life,
and the Cauldron of Cerridwen,
which is the Holy vessel of immortality.
I am the Gracious Goddess,
who gives the gift of joy unto the heart of man.
Upon earth, I give the knowledge of spirit eternal;
and beyond death, I give peace and freedom
and reunion with those who have gone before.
Nor do I demand sacrifice;
for behold,
I am the Mother of all living,
and my love is poured out upon the earth.
I am the beauty of the green earth,
And the white moon among the stars,
And the mystery of the waters,
And the desire of the heart of man,
Call unto the soul, arise and come unto me
call unto thy soul.
Arise, and come unto me.
For I am the soul of nature, who gives life to the universe.
From me all things proceed,
and unto me all things must return;
and before my face, beloved of Gods and of men,
let thine innermost divine self be enfolded in the rapture of the
infinite.
Let my worship be within the heart that rejoiceth;
for behold,
all acts of love and pleasure are my rituals.
And therefore let there be beauty and strength,
power and compassion, honour and humility,
mirth and reverence within you.
And thou who thinkest to seek for me,
know thy seeking and yearning shall avail thee not
unless thou knowest the mystery;
that if that which thou seekest
thee findest not within thee,
thou wilt never find it without thee.
For behold,
I have been with thee from the beginning;
and I am that which is attained
at the end of desire.
"Charge of the Dark Goddess ~
Listen to the words of the Dark Mother, who of old was called Hecate, Nuit, Morrigan, , Macha, MotherNight, , and many other names:
Whenever you seek wisdom, at the time of the Darkening Moon, come together in love and trust and learn of Me, who am the Wisest of Crones...
Ye who search the mysteries of the Earth, the secrets of Air and Darkness, of Blood and Fire, the silence of the uttermost stars, come unto me, and I shall whisper to you in the depths of midnight.
Ye shall approach Me in silence, and as a sign that ye are free from fear, your breast you shall bare to My blade...for fear has no place in My mysteries, and that which you seek of me will destroy you if you fear it. .
I am the silence before birth and after death. I am the clouded mirror in which you scry your own soul. I am mist in the twilight, the vast and starry sky of midnight, shadows on the Moon. All things come to Me in the end, and yet I am the beginning of all. I meet you at the crossroads, I lead you through the darkness, My hand you grasp in the passage between the worlds.
To those that toy with Me am I an instrument of self-destruction. yet to the true seeker do I bring knowledge beyond mortal comprehension. Of you shall I demand the utter truth of all that you are, and in return shall I give you all that you may be, all that I am.
For My wisdom is beyond the Ages, and knowledge of My Secrets is power over self, over fear,er death. Nor do I demand aught of you which you cannot give.
For I am the Mother of Mysteries, and as you know Me, so shall you learn to know yourself."
~ Author unknown
Again not poetry but …
Bit of trivia. See if anyone makes the connection ;)
Overhead the albatross
Hangs motionless upon the air
And deep beneath the rolling waves
In labyrinths of coral caves
An echo of a distant time
Comes willowing across the sand
And everything is green and submarine.
And no one called us to the land
And no one knows the where's or why's.
Something stirs and something tries
Starts to climb toward the light.
Strangers passing in the street
By chance two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me.
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you through the land
And help me understand
The best I can.
And no one called us to the land
And no one crosses there alive.
No one speaks and no one tries
No one flies around the sun....
Almost everyday you fall
Upon my waking eyes,
Inviting and inciting me
To rise.
And through the window in the wall
Come streaming in on sunlight wings
A million bright ambassadors of morning.
And no one sings me lullabyes
And no one makes me close my eyes
So I throw the windows wide
And call to you across the sky....
Pink Floyd .. Echoes
ok this isn’t technically poetry but It is to me.
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 through 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
(Chorus)
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
(Chorus)
You who choose to lead must follow
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
Ripple.. The Greatful Dead
A Wee Wee Touch
Some would ask to be very great,
and high in the hall of fame,
but all I ask is a tiny touch.
A touch of a writers fame.
Like a candle that is aglow,
though small may be the flame,
yet even if one may se by the light,
then the candle glowed not in vain.
So all I ask is a touch of light
to place beside my name and
this I ask not for myself but
for my babies names.
I ask tit not that I might live
in the light of a writers fame
except that whne my children walk,
all others will know their name.
It’s such a little tiny thought
yet oh so hard to explain,
for my heart I want to hold
a touch that will make my name.
Now this wee wee touch turns into much
and I question my heart of its gain.
For words must live and hearts must give,
and it lies in the realm of fame.
~Viola G. Scroggins.
I miss you grandma!!
Green trees
majestic mountains
the clouds
dark in some places
while letting sun through to others
more of the latter, blue sky
The whisper of the wind, her breath
the rain her tears
a mountain stream her healing waters
The sun
And through these images we see our lives
more light than dark
more joy than pain
more hope than desperation
But we can also hear her cry
a cry for help, Listen
Her breath speaks of oxygen depletion
her streams of mercury poisoning
why are we so careless, do we not care?
Do we not see we are killing ourselves and our children?
magic is all around us, everyday, everywhere we look.
Awake before it's too late!! Remember!!
~Written at VWC 2009 By Don Scroggins
Life's waters flow from darkness. Search the darkness, don't run from it.
~ Rumi
He Who Knows The Center Endures
He who knows the outside is clever
He ex−cells life less
He who knows the center endures
He lives in−light end
He who masters, gains robot strength
He over−powers
He who comes to the center has
flowering strength
He is in−formed
Faith of consciousness is freedom
Hope of consciousness is strength
Love of consciousness evokes the same in return
Faith of seed frees
Hope of seed flowers
Love of seed grows
From Timothy Leary’s Psychedelic Prayers
Be with those who help your being.
Don�t sit with indifferent people, whose breath
comes cold out of their mouths.
Not these visible forms, your work is deeper.
A chunk of dirt thrown in the air breaks to pieces.
If you don�t try to fly,
and so break yourself apart,
you will be broken open by death,
when it�s too late for all you could become.
Leaves get yellow. The tree puts out fresh roots
and makes them green.
Why are you so content with a love that turns you yellow?
Rumi
A Potted Plant
I pull a sun from my coin purse each day.
And at night I let my pet the moon
Run freely into the sky meadow.
If I whistled,
She would turn her head and look at me.
If I then waved my arms,
She would come back wagging a marvelous tail
Of stars.
There are always a few men like me
In this world
Who are house-sitting for God.
We share His royal duties:
I water each day a favorite potted plant
Of His--
This earth.
Ask the Friend for love.
Ask Him again.
For I have learned that every heart will get
What it prays for
Most.
Hafiz
A day late no doubt but non the less
DEFEATED BY LOVE
The sky was lit
by the splendor of the moon
So powerful
I fell to the ground
Your love
has made me sure
I am ready to forsake
this worldly life
and surrender to the magnificence
of your Being
- Rumi --
Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
Had journeyed long,
Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.
But he grew old-
This knight so bold-
And o'er his heart a shadow
Fell as he found
No spot of ground
That looked like Eldorado.
And, as his strength
Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow-
"Shadow," said he,
"Where can it be-
This land of Eldorado?"
"Over the Mountains
Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
Ride, boldly ride,"
The shade replied-
"If you seek for Eldorado!"
Edgar Allan Poe
May the beauty you love, be what you.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground
~Rumi
The Raven
E.A. Poe
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Robert Frost
