I see the Into the Fray poem/text has already being said and I mentioned it again, this is another one I'll always come back to:
I got it in a small frame:
I got it in a small frame:
![[Image: 158868.jpg]](https://images.gr-assets.com/quotes/1424559768p8/158868.jpg)
Quote: (04-26-2018 10:34 AM)arafat scarf Wrote:
Parable
Once upon a time, there was an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years.
One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. “Such bad luck,” they said sympathetically, “you must be so sad.”
“We’ll see,” the farmer replied.
The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it two other wild horses.
“How wonderful,” the neighbors exclaimed! “Not only did your horse return, but you received two more. What great fortune you have!”
“We’ll see,” answered the farmer.
we'll see
The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune. “Now your son cannot help you with your farming,” they said. “What terrible luck you have!”
“We’ll see,” replied the old farmer.
The following week, military officials came to the village to conscript young men into the army. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out. “Such great news. You must be so happy!”
The man smiled to himself and said once again.
“We’ll see,”
- source
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Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
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An Ass once found a Lion's skin which the hunters had left out in the sun to dry.
He put it on and went towards his native village.
All fled at his approach, both men and animals, and he was a proud Ass that day.
In his delight he lifted up his voice and brayed, but then every one knew him, and his owner came up and gave him a sound cudgelling for the fright he had caused.
And shortly afterwards a Fox came up to him and said:
"Ah, I knew you by your voice."
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[Intro]
Death is silent, painless
I didn't know what happened
I was suddenly standing above my body
While you looked on
Too much in shock for tears
I tried to speak but couldn't
I tried to talk to you
But you wouldn't listen
[Verse 1: Kno]
Death is silent
It hides high in the night's confinement
Vile and violent
Minding a time to try us
And remind us
That we cry when time is denied us
To incite this
Fear of death inside us
Death is spineless
It will find men that you confide in
And confine them to asylum
Make those that you dine with and reside with
The same lives that you will pine for in silence
Death is mindless
Nevermind the genotype or phylum
It's designed to find and defile us
From afar, Senegal to Riker's Island
Deaths not confined to latitude lines or mileage
Death is timeless
Theres no sense to fight with
The violent nihilist
Binding the eyes of the lifeless
But such that life is aligned with
Death's assignment
Don't let it define you, you define it
[Outro]
Everything that we know
Is forever dead
All the things in the world
We love have gone away
*Twice upon a time there was a boy who died and lived happily ever after, but that's another chapter*
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TWELVE o’clock.
Along the reaches of the street
Held in a lunar synthesis,
Whispering lunar incantations
Dissolve the floors of memory
And all its clear relations
Its divisions and precisions,
Every street lamp that I pass
Beats like a fatalistic drum,
And through the spaces of the dark
Midnight shakes the memory
As a madman shakes a dead geranium.
Half-past one,
The street-lamp sputtered,
The street-lamp muttered,
The street-lamp said, “Regard that woman
Who hesitates toward you in the light of the door
Which opens on her like a grin.
You see the border of her dress
Is torn and stained with sand,
And you see the corner of her eye
Twists like a crooked pin.”
The memory throws up high and dry
A crowd of twisted things;
A twisted branch upon the beach
Eaten smooth, and polished
As if the world gave up
The secret of its skeleton,
Stiff and white.
A broken spring in a factory yard,
Rust that clings to the form that the strength has left
Hard and curled and ready to snap.
Half-past two,
The street-lamp said,
“Remark the cat which flattens itself in the gutter,
Slips out its tongue
And devours a morsel of rancid butter.”
So the hand of the child, automatic,
Slipped out and pocketed a toy that was running along the quay.
I could see nothing behind that child’s eye.
I have seen eyes in the street
Trying to peer through lighted shutters,
And a crab one afternoon in a pool,
An old crab with barnacles on his back,
Gripped the end of a stick which I held him.
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp muttered in the dark.
The lamp hummed:
“Regard the moon,
La lune ne garde aucune rancune,
She winks a feeble eye,
She smiles into corners.
She smooths the hair of the grass.
The moon has lost her memory.
A washed-out smallpox cracks her face,
Her hand twists a paper rose,
That smells of dust and eau de Cologne,
She is alone
With all the old nocturnal smells
That cross and cross across her brain.”
The reminiscence comes
Of sunless dry geraniums
And dust in crevices,
Smells of chestnuts in the streets,
And female smells in shuttered rooms,
And cigarettes in corridors
And cocktail smells in bars.
The lamp said,
“Four o’clock,
Here is the number on the door.
Memory!
You have the key,
The little lamp spreads a ring on the stair.
Mount.
The bed is open; the tooth-brush hangs on the wall,
Put your shoes at the door, sleep, prepare for life.”
The last twist of the knife.
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3 And he spake many things unto them in parables, saying, Behold, a sower went forth to sow;
4 And when he sowed, some seeds fell by the way side, and the fowls came and devoured them up:
5 Some fell upon stony places, where they had not much earth: and forthwith they sprung up, because they had no deepness of earth:
6 And when the sun was up, they were scorched; and because they had no root, they withered away.
7 And some fell among thorns; and the thorns sprung up, and choked them:
8 But other fell into good ground, and brought forth fruit, some an hundredfold, some sixtyfold, some thirtyfold.
9 Who hath ears to hear, let him hear.
Quote: (03-23-1983 09:19 PM)delete Wrote:"The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun. Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is new? it hath been already of old time, which was before us. There is no remembrance of former things; neither shall there be any remembrance of things that are to come with those that shall come after."
delete
Quote: (08-16-2018 01:07 PM)glugger Wrote:
What was your purpose for this thread LINUX?
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You are not allowed to tell me what wisdom or lessons that these things will teach me. I have to figure that out on my own.
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I can remember starving in a
small room in a strange city
shades pulled down, listening to
classical music
I was young I was so young it hurt like a knife
inside
because there was no alternative except to hide as long
as possible--
not in self-pity but with dismay at my limited chance:
trying to connect.
the old composers -- Mozart, Bach, Beethoven,
Brahms were the only ones who spoke to me and
they were dead.
finally, starved and beaten, I had to go into
the streets to be interviewed for low-paying and
monotonous
jobs
by strange men behind desks
men without eyes men without faces
who would take away my hours
break them
piss on them.
now I work for the editors the readers the
critics
but still hang around and drink with
Mozart, Bach, Brahms and the
Bee
some buddies
some men
sometimes all we need to be able to continue alone
are the dead
rattling the walls
that close us in.
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Everything's easy after it's done;
Every battle's a "cinch" that's won;
Every problem is clear that's solved--
The earth was round when it _revolved!_
But Washington stood amid grave doubt
With enemy forces camped about;
He could not know how he would fare
Till _after_ he'd crossed the Delaware.
Though the river was full of ice
He did not think about it twice,
But started across in the dead of night,
The enemy waiting to open the fight.
Likely feeling pretty blue,
Being human, same as you,
But he was brave amid despair,
And Washington crossed the Delaware!
So when you're with trouble beset,
And your spirits are soaking wet,
When all the sky with clouds is black,
Don't lie down upon your back
And look at _them_. Just do the thing;
Though you are choked, still try to sing.
If times are dark, believe them fair,
And you will cross the Delaware!
[Verse 1]
I haven't ever really found a place that I call home
I never stick around quite long enough to make it
I apologize that once again I'm not in love
But it's not as if I mind that your heart ain't exactly breaking
It's just a thought, only a thought
[Chorus]
But if my life is for rent
And I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cause nothing I have is truly mine
[Verse 2]
I've always thought that I would love to live by the sea
To travel the world alone and live more simply
I have no idea what's happened to that dream
Cause there's really nothing left here to stop me
It's just a thought, only a thought
[Chorus]
If my life is for rent
And I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cause nothing I have is truly mine
If my life is for rent
And I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cause nothing I have is truly mine
[Bridge]
While my heart is a shield and I won't let it down
While I am so afraid to fail so I won't even try
Well, how can I say I'm alive?
[Chorus]
If my life is for rent
And I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cause nothing I have is truly mine
If my life is for rent
And I don't learn to buy
Well I deserve nothing more than I get
Cause nothing I have is truly mine
[Outro]
Cause nothing I have is truly mine
Cause nothing I have is truly mine
Cause nothing I have is truly mine
I feel like I’m slowly fading
Like smoke into thin air
In constant search of a caring soul
But no one really cares
It’s rare to find a genuine heart, truly sincere and kind
Expecially when you end up in a predicament like mine
Snatched away from society at a very young age
With no guidance and no structure, I was living in a haze
But the past is done and gone and my future seems bleak
I’m slowly fading away
Like a drunk when he drinks
I think this life is worth living
Sometimes it’s hard to tell
It’s like I was born into Satan’s hands, then cast into hell
My potential is at a peak, where I’m beginning to see
But twenty years from now, who knows where I’ll be
Still locked in a cell where my potential and worth is a “was”—a thing of the past
So vast my dreams and goals, things I aspire to achieve
It’s a daily struggle for me to continue to believe
To believe that I could actually be more than a thug
To believe that a woman still wants to give me a kiss with her love
Still wants to see me smile and tell me I’m so cute
To see that I’ve blossomed into a wonderful man
Though I didn’t have rich roots
Locked away like this, everyone seems to forget
I’m slowly fading away
Into a bottomless pit
Out of sight, out of mind, damn it’s a shame
Sometimes I wonder if certain people even remember my name
In a predicament like this you become very aware
Before, ignorance was bliss and you don’t know to be scared
I feel like I have so much to offer
But am I really even here?
Time waits for no one, and no one sees my tears
I’m ripe and ready for whatever
I’m 21 years young
Sometimes my soul feels 80, like it’s almost done
I’m slowly fading away
Into a mist of confusion
Constantly wondering if my life is just an illusion
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31 Another parable put he forth unto them, saying, The kingdom of heaven is like to a grain of mustard seed, which a man took, and sowed in his field:
32 Which indeed is the least of all seeds: but when it is grown, it is the greatest among herbs, and becometh a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in the branches thereof.
Quote: (03-23-1983 09:19 PM)delete Wrote:"The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun. Is there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is new? it hath been already of old time, which was before us. There is no remembrance of former things; neither shall there be any remembrance of things that are to come with those that shall come after."
delete
Quote: (04-25-2018 08:03 PM)LINUX Wrote:
Suppose I am some boy.
snip
On my journey to nowhere but hopefully somewhere, I have nothing but time to think about your words. So I ask you:
Give me one and only one of each of the following:
One song.
One poem.
One art piece
One movie.
One parable, allegory, text, or fable
to teach me your wisdom about life, death, love, hope, pain, or whatever else you feel is relevant. Your job is not to teach me what to do or how to live a better life. Your job is simply to teach me what is.
There's more, You are not allowed to tell me what wisdom or lessons that these things will teach me. I have to figure that out on my own. I only want you to show me the door and let me walk though it to discover my own meaning in the poem, art, song, and allegory that you gave me.
Can you give me something real?
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"there is no meaning of life except to fuck. it is utter pointlessness. you are a machine designed to serve the interests of recombinant dna"
Quote: (08-18-2016 12:05 PM)dicknixon72 Wrote:
...and nothing quite surprises me anymore. If I looked out my showroom window and saw a fully-nude woman force-fucking an alligator with a strap-on while snorting xanex on the roof of her rental car with her three children locked inside with the windows rolled up, I wouldn't be entirely amazed.