Head To Head
Log In
Register
The Modern Antiquarian Forum »
Megalithic Poems
Log In to post a reply

Pages: 97 – [ Previous | 142 43 44 45 46 47 | Next ]
Topic View: Flat | Threaded
Littlestone
Littlestone
5386 posts

Re: Edward Thomas on Jeffries' Wiltshire downland
Nov 06, 2006, 20:25
Jeffries often thought of the sea upon these hills."


"As I gaze I think of the great hill where so often in the old days I watched the red clouds of the morning, inhaling deeply. On this hill I used to bury my face in the thyme and listen to the song of the lark.
Through the hollow of the valley beyond are more meads, and oaks; and, over these, far away, the sunny haze has thickened till the hills are a mere line. On the top of the right side of the valley is a clump of trees: from thence, from underneath, in a rocky cell, and at their very roots, rises a clear and cool spring. A rugged path, encumbered with brambles, winds down to it, to the bottom of the steep face of stone where the water, with the moss-grown rock perpendicular to it, imperceptibly issues, with neither bubble nor sound."*

* The Old House at Coate. ISBN 0 9506563 8 0. Page 44.
Littlestone
Littlestone
5386 posts

Re: Back To The Stones - Roy Harper
Nov 13, 2006, 21:09
StoneLifter wrote:
My name is John Thomas I come from the grave
Where promises vaporise each latest wave
Straight from the breadline with nothing to spare
For a world of high finance and no purpose, I'd just like to say I don't care
I prefer deprivation it's such a slow death
I just want to walk away, take a deep breath
Do something other than fill the same street
Nothing to live for, no way, no way to fill my heart beat

The summer will come and we will run into the sun again
The summer will come and it will be June 21 again
The summer will come... Back to the stones

The pigs came on Saturday and surrounded the road
Tore down our house and destroyed our abode
The road to the henge was blocked off by the state
600 Hitlers with prejudice, prejudice driven by hate

Brute force and justice will not change my mind
About how I think and the friends that I find
I walk with my head high and I'll never be drawn
By promise of futures I just wouldn't want to be born...


Does anyone have a pic I can use to illustrate this? It's a tough one to find an image for.
StoneLifter
StoneLifter
1594 posts

Re: Back To The Stones - Roy Harper
Nov 13, 2006, 22:55
http://www.neukol.org.uk/outlet/media/Royharperthumb.jpg
Littlestone
Littlestone
5386 posts

Re: Back To The Stones - Roy Harper
Nov 14, 2006, 10:28
Thanks SL, though was looking for something more megalithic, or Battle-of-the-Beanfield-ish.
StoneLifter
StoneLifter
1594 posts

Re: Back To The Stones - Roy Harper
Nov 14, 2006, 10:30
Here's Beanfield stuff - from Tash - http://tash.gn.apc.org/sh_bean.htm
StoneLifter
StoneLifter
1594 posts

Re: Back To The Stones - Roy Harper
Nov 14, 2006, 10:33
And there's also this blinkin' video (also tightly copyrighted) - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zpDpFh4tWZE
Littlestone
Littlestone
5386 posts

Re: Back To The Stones - Roy Harper
Nov 18, 2006, 17:07
Thanks SL. Have only just noticed your post after using a John Piper painting of Stonehenge - might change it later.
Littlestone
Littlestone
5386 posts

Bruce Cockburn: Wondering where the Lions are
Nov 25, 2006, 00:00
Wondering where the Lions are

Sun's up, uh huh, looks okay
The world survives into another day
And I'm thinking about eternity
Some kind of ecstasy got a hold on me

I had another dream about lions at the door
They weren't half as frightening as they were before
But I'm thinking about eternity
Some kind of ecstasy got a hold on me

Walls windows trees, waves coming through
You be in me and I'll be in you
Together in eternity
Some kind of ecstasy got a hold on me

Up among the firs where it smells so sweet
Or down in the valley where the river used to be
I got my mind on eternity
Some kind of ecstasy got a hold on me

And I'm wondering where the lions are...
I'm wondering where the lions are...

Huge orange flying boat rises off a lake
Thousand-year-old petroglyphs doing a double take
Pointing a finger at eternity
I'm sitting in the middle of this ecstasy

Young men marching, helmets shining in the sun,
Polished as precise like the brain behind the gun
(Should be!) they got me thinking about eternity
Some kind of ecstasy got a hold on me

And I'm wondering where the lions are...
I'm wondering where the lions are...

Freighters on the nod on the surface of the bay
One of these days we're going to sail away,
going to sail into eternity
some kind of ecstasy got a hold on me

And I'm wondering where the lions are...
I'm wondering where the lions are...

Bruce Cockburn

Thanks to Nancy on the Stones Mailing List for this one. "Thousand-year-old petroglyphs doing a double take. Pointing a finger at eternity." Like it :-) Nancy adds that the petroglyphs are on Vancouver Island.
ryaner
ryaner
679 posts

The Stones by Sylvia Plath
Nov 30, 2006, 19:09
The Stones

This is the city where men are mended.
I lie on a great anvil.
The flat blue sky-circle

Flew off like the hat of a doll
When I fell out of the light. I entered
The stomach of indifference, the wordless cupboard.

The mother of pestles diminished me.
I became a still pebble.
The stones of the belly were peaceable,

The head-stone quiet, jostled by nothing.
Only the mouth-hole piped out,
Importunate cricket

In a quarry of silences.
The people of the city heard it.
They hunted the stones, taciturn and separate,

The mouth-hole crying their locations.
Drunk as a foetus
I suck at the paps of darkness.

The food tubes embrace me. Sponges kiss my lichens away.
The jewelmaster drives his chisel to pry
Open one stone eye.

This is the after-hell: I see the light.
A wind unstoppers the chamber
Of the ear, old worrier.

Water mollifies the flint lip,
And daylight lays its sameness on the wall.
The grafters are cheerful,

Heating the pincers, hoisting the delicate hammers.
A current agitates the wires
Volt upon volt. Catgut stitches my fissures.

A workman walks by carrying a pink torso.
The storerooms are full of hearts.
This is the city of spare parts.

My swaddled legs and arms smell sweet as rubber.
Here they can doctor heads, or any limb.
On Fridays the little children come

To trade their hooks for hands.
Dead men leave eyes for others.
Love is the uniform of my bald nurse.

Love is the bone and sinew of my curse.
The vase, reconstructed, houses
The elusive rose.

Ten fingers shape a bowl for shadows.
My mendings itch. There is nothing to do.
I shall be good as new.

Sylvia Plath
Littlestone
Littlestone
5386 posts

Re: The Stones by Sylvia Plath
Nov 30, 2006, 21:46
Thanks ryaner, I'll add that to the stack.

"...Ted Hughes was Sylvia's husband from 1956 till her death in 1963, they lived together until autumn 1962. Shortly before his death he published a collection of poems remembering his first wife and their life together, Birthday Letters, published by Faber and Faber in England, by Farrar Straus & Giroux in the U.S. It contains 88 poems that cover his life with and without Sylvia, all poems were written after her death, some were already published elsewhere as early as the 1980s but went largely unnoticed."*

* http://www.sylviaplath.de/plath/hughes.html

Also the Wikipedia entry at -

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sylvia_Plath
Pages: 97 – [ Previous | 142 43 44 45 46 47 | Next ] Add a reply to this topic

The Modern Antiquarian Forum Index