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Reply to: Its about Time ...

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Previously on "Its about Time ..."

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  • AlfredJPruffock
    replied
    Breaking up is hard
    but keeping dark is hateful
    I had so many dreams
    I had so many breakthroughs

    Perhaps youre smiling now
    smiling through this darkness
    But all I had to give
    was the guilt for dreaming



    Time - hes waiting in the wings
    He speaks of senseless things
    His script is you and me, boy

    Time - he flexes like a whore
    Falls w@nking to the floor
    His trick is you and me, boy

    Time - in Powders and Red Wine
    Demanding Billy Pilgrim
    And other friends of mine
    Take your time

    The sniper in the brain
    regurgitating drain
    Incestuous and vain
    and many other last names

    I look at my watch it say 9:25 and I think oh God Im still alive

    We should be on by now

    Time ...

    Leave a comment:


  • threaded
    replied
    Who is lovelier than she?
    Yet she lives alone in an empty valley.
    She tells me she came from a good family
    Which is humbled now into the dust.
    ...When trouble arose in the Kuan district,
    Her brothers and close kin were killed.
    What use were their high offices,
    Not even shielding their own lives? --
    The world has but scorn for adversity;
    Hope goes out, like the light of a candle.
    Her husband, with a vagrant heart,
    Seeks a new face like a new piece of jade;
    And when morning-glories furl at night
    And mandarin-ducks lie side by side,
    All he can see is the smile of the new love,
    While the old love weeps unheard.
    The brook was pure in its mountain source,
    But away from the mountain its waters darken.
    ...Waiting for her maid to come from selling pearls
    For straw to cover the roof again,
    She picks a few flowers, no longer for her hair,
    And lets pine-needles fall through her fingers,
    And, forgetting her thin silk sleeve and the cold,
    She leans in the sunset by a tall bamboo.

    Leave a comment:


  • Troll
    replied
    Is the mountain a metaphor ?

    Leave a comment:


  • pisces
    replied
    ...and if you do have to surely the quickest and or easiest way would be best?

    Leave a comment:


  • Troll
    replied
    Originally posted by threaded
    There are hundreds of paths up the mountain,
    all leading in the same direction,
    so it doesn't matter which path you take.
    The only one wasting time is the one
    who runs around and around the mountain,
    telling everyone that his or her path is wrong.
    But why do you have the go up the mountain at all?

    Leave a comment:


  • threaded
    replied
    There are hundreds of paths up the mountain,
    all leading in the same direction,
    so it doesn't matter which path you take.
    The only one wasting time is the one
    who runs around and around the mountain,
    telling everyone that his or her path is wrong.

    Leave a comment:


  • Buffoon
    replied
    Time

    Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
    You fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way
    Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
    Waiting for someone or something to show you the way

    Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
    You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
    And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
    No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

    And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking
    And racing around to come up behind you again
    The sun is the same in a relative way, but 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
    The time has gone, the song is over, thought I'd something more to say

    Leave a comment:


  • OwlHoot
    replied
    Originally posted by xoggoth
    Auden had the most utterly wrinkly face I have ever seen.
    I did a quick search, to try and fathom the mystery of how anyone could be so hang-dog wrinkly who hadn't spent forty years picking olives or something all day in southern Italy (as someone famously said, if his face is that wrinkly imagine his scrotum!), and found this interesting essay by him http://www.everypoet.org/pffa/showthread.php?t=53193

    Originally posted by Auden
    The girl whose boyfriend starts writing her love poems should be on her guard. Perhaps he really does love her, but one thing is certain: while he was writing his poems he was not thinking of her but of his own feelings about her and that is suspicious.

    Leave a comment:


  • xoggoth
    replied
    Auden had the most utterly wrinkly face I have ever seen.

    Leave a comment:


  • AlfredJPruffock
    started a topic Its about Time ...

    Its about Time ...

    .


    Time will say nothing but I told you so
    Time only knows the price we have to pay

    If I could tell you I would let you know.


    If we should weep when clowns put on their show
    If we should stumble when musicians play

    Time will say nothing but I told you so.

    There are no fortunes to be told, although,
    Because I love you more than I can say,

    If I could tell you I would let you know.

    The winds must come from somewhere when they blow
    There must be reasons why the leaves decay

    Time will say nothing but I told you so

    Perhaps the roses really want to grow
    The vision seriously intends to stay

    If I could tell you I would let you know

    Suppose all the lions get up and go,
    And all the brooks and soldiers run away

    Will Time say nothing but I told you so?


    WH Auden
    Last edited by AlfredJPruffock; 6 April 2007, 12:34.

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