The waves are crashing on the shore, and I am crawling up the beach. The pounding surf sounds like a roar as I am fleeing water's reach. Don't let it take me, I beseech! Don't give the beast a second chance. It had a turn, but now 's in breach. It's met the bounds of its expanse. And I hear no drums of ghost dance to summon it up onto land. I twist my head to take a glance, and all I see is endless sand.
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 Infant's cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forged manacles I hear. How the Chimney-sweeper's cry Every black'ning Church appalls; And the hapless Soldier's sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls. But most thro' midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlot's curse Blasts the new born Infant's tear, And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.
From atop an old stone rampart, one's head within the clouds, one expects to see an old oxcart through that foggy shroud. But down below, the modern day: buses, cafes, and cars. I turn my head the other way, and the world 's as it was: Back in the times when that fortress was besieged and battered, and nothing moved freely but for a flag -- singed and tattered. There's a certain romantic view of long-gone days of old, but I think I'll be heading down before I catch a cold.
Tell all the truth but tell it slant -- Success in Circuit lies Too bright for our infirm Delight The Truth's superb surprise As Lightning to the Children eased With explanation kind The Truth must dazzle gradually Or every man be blind --
I hear the rains accelerate From the lightest sprinkle. Soon the streets are aflood; mere sound Makes my fingers wrinkle. The rain continues to ratchet Up: faster & faster. 'Til it's maxed out at a speed that Spells certain disaster. How can it keep up this dire pace? What sponge this cloud must be To hold on high, up in the sky, The contents of a Sea. But, in time, the downshift begins Towards just drips & drops. No matter how boisterous the band, The song, it always stops.
I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.
She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies, And all that's best of dark and bright Meets in her aspect and her eyes, Thus mellow'd to that tender light Which heaven to gaudy day denies. One shade the more, one ray the less Had half impair'd the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress Or softly lightens o'er her face, Where thoughts serenely sweet express How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. And on that cheek and o'er that brow So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow But tell of days in goodness spent,-- A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent.
The trees will soon be barren, all. It is that time of year -- the Fall. The understory never was, and can't now house the insect buzz. And, so, the woods stand silently -- nothing treads in peace, nor violently. It's empty; devoid of motion: life hides below, as in Oceans. It does feel like we're out to sea - a strange place where both sides are lee. And - so - we're stuck, we can't move on, but can see promise over yon.
Welcome to the masquerade!
It is your home from now on.
The you you were will soon fade
as you play out the long con.
Welcome to the masquerade!
Where all faces are untrue.
We are just the roles we've played,
not the selves we never knew.
Welcome to the masquerade!
Do you know just who I am?
I'm only what I've conveyed.
It's the "real me" that's a sham!
Li Bai fills his cup; Li Bai loves his wine; Li Bai sits in moonlight, staring at the sky.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 