Today I go to make my fame,
To add "explorer" to my name.
Destiny calls and I must go,
To search the world both high and low.
I go to find the mystic grail,
The golden fleece,
The great white whale.
Lost Atlantis I'll recover,
And King Tut's treasures I'll discover.
The fountain of youth,
I'll find that spot,
The elephants graveyard
I almost forgot.
The Maltese Falcon and,
Oh yes!
I'll find the monster of Loch Ness.
Lost worlds, lost chords,
And I think
if I have time...
The missing link.
And still more things I'm going to do,
As soon as I find my other shoe!
Hagar the Horrible
"When the stars are hidden by black clouds, no light can they afford.
When the boisterous south wind rolls along the sea and stirs the surge,
the water, but now as clear as glass, bright as the fair sun's light,
is dark, impenetrable to sight, with stirred and scattered sand.
The stream, that wanders down the mountain's side,
must often find a stumbling-block,
a stone within its path torn from the hill's own rock.
So too shalt thou: if thou wouldst see the truth in undimmed light,
choose the straight road, the beaten path;
away with passing joys! away with fear!
put vain hopes to flight! and grant no place to grief!
Where these distractions reign, the mind is clouded o'er,
the soul is bound in chains."
Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy
From Songs of Experience
William Blake
Introduction
Hear the voice of the Bard!
Who Present, Past, & Future sees;
Whose ears have heard
The Holy Word
That walk'd among the ancient trees;
Calling the lapsed Soul
And weeping in the evening dew,
That might controll
The starry pole,
And fallen, fallen light renew!
"O Earth, O Earth, return!
Arise from out the dewy grass;
Night is worn,
And the morn
Rises from the slumberous mass.
"Turn away no more;
Why wilt thou turn away?
The starry floor
The watry shore
Is giv'n thee till the break of day."
Earth's Answer
Earth rais'd up her head,
From the darkenss dread and drear.
Her light fled:
Stoney dread!
And her locks cover'd with grey despair.
"Prison'd on watry shore
Starry jealousy does keep my den,
Cold and hoar
Weeping o'er
I hear the Father of the ancient men.
"Selfish father of men,
Cruel, jealous, selfish fear!
Can delight
Chain'd in night
The virgins of youth and morning bear?
"Does spring hide its joy
When buds and blossoms grow?
Does the sower
Sow by night,
Or the plowman in darkness plow?
"Break this heavy chain
That does freeze my bones around;
Selfish! vain!
Eternal bane!
That free Love with bondage bound."
William Blake
"Look on me! there is an order of mortals on this earth,
who do become Old in their youth,
and die ere middle age,
Without the violence of warlike death;
Some perishing of pleasure--some of study--
Some worn with toil--some of mere weariness--
Some of disease--and some insanity--
And some of withered, or of broken hearts;
For this last is a malady which slays
More than are numbered in the lists of Fate,
Taking all shapes, and bearing many names.
Look upon me! for even of all these things
Have I partaken; and of all these things,
One were enough; then wonder not that I
Am what I am, but that I ever was,
Or, having been, that I am still on earth."
Manfred in Lord Byron's Manfred, Act 3
I Would Create
I would create a refuge for the lonely ones,
The brave sensitive, ravaged spirits who travel
forever alone,
The assemblage of the wounded who appear
on city streets at night
Like dwarfed and disfigured members
of another race.
We who have lost our way, wonder profoundly
if solace and comfort exist,
Struggle to make each day mean something,
Find no one to love who does not want to make us
a prisoner.
For us the family is no suitable symbol,
Because we are the orphans separated and
unwanted as we are.
Must we die in routine and a love parceled out
like a reward
For good behavior?
We are the victims of the strong and self-assured,
ready to grasp
Any hand that will lead us from terror.
We live with the endless fantasies and illusions,
Have no time to lay foundations and build love.
The marriages we see do not thrill us,
Friendship alone seems to endure and rejuvenate.
Is there a key to the labyrinth that only the
privileged
Deserve to find?
The rest must struggle with madness and
emptiness and fear.
My mission is to them, and I would create a refuge
To give the lonely ones like me
hope and love.
James Kavanaugh
Man is like the grass that grows
and then is cut down.
Man is like the flower that blooms
in the spring
and fades in the summer.
Man is in Love
and love is what passes!
Stephen King
Love can never change anyone
Water can wear away stone
but only after hundreds of years
People are mortal
Love is the enemy
Love is the old slaughterer
Love is not blind
Love is cannable
with extremely acute vision
Love is insectile
It is always hungry
It eats friendship
Stephen King
Get your own Free Home Page