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 |  | |  | | Being But Men We Walked Into The Trees | One of my favorite poems...
"BEING BUT MEN" by Dylan Thomas - 1932
Being but men, we walked into the trees more...Afraid, letting our syllables be soft For fear of waking the rooks, For fear of coming Noiselessly into a world of wings and cries.
If we were children we might climb, Catch the rooks sleeping, and break no twig, And, after the soft ascent, Thrust out our heads above the branches To wonder at the unfailing stars.
Out of confusion, as the way is, And the wonder, that man knows, Out of the chaos would come bliss.
That, then, is loveliness, we said, Children in wonder watching the stars, Is the aim and the end.
Being but men, we walked into the trees.
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The rooks/ravens/crows in the trees, you may have guessed, are not real birds. They are black plastic garbage bags that appeared about 5 years ago and we see them each weekend when we drive to the hospital where Rafe (TimberGeek) works. Each time you drive by you catch it out of the corner of your eye and swear they are birds. Amazing that they haven't blown out of the trees completely yet.
Music: Trio for Piano, Cello, and Clarinet www.incompetech.com less
 Views: 46 Favorited: 1 Comments: 1 Add Comment
 Tags: ravensky23 poem poetry being but men we walked into the trees dylan thomas crow rook raven | | |
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 |  |  | my carnival lips are sealed 05:07 One of my favorite songs... really, who are the freaks? Thanks to all who post images as 'creative commons'. To the best of my knowledge I have used more...only copyright free images. If you beg to differ, PM me, tell me which image is yours and I will give credit and a link, or re-edit and remove the image. All video was all shot by me.
I saw The Horse Flies at Falcon Ridge Folk Festival this year but didn't get any footage of them. :-(
Check out their website:
http://www.thehorseflies.com/
You can go here to purchase 'Until the Ocean' and some of their older albums! http://www.funkyside.com/store/index....
You can listen to song excerpts there too. Yeah!
'Until the Ocean' is also available both as a physical album and for download at: itunes, cdbaby, amazon and more...
And the lyrics from my CD liner...
~~~~~~~
carnival lips
the carnival's in town i think i'll go put on a dog wig and head for the show
the carnival's arrived the geeks are in i'll be there wearin' my skin
people wear clothes they do up their hair some shaped like potatoes and some shaped like pears
oh i feel good when i'm with you it makes me feel like normal people do
the fat lady sings the old clown cries he can't wipe the tears from his made up eyes
from his made up eyes he can see that the world is made up of people like me
people peeping through the peep holes at the peep show just inside biting heads off live chickens little children run and hide
my carnival lips are sealed you'll never know how i really feel till you paint your face and take your place at the sideshow next to me
the world is made up of people like me who go to the carnival hoping to see a great big body and a little tiny head to help us forget that we're the freaks instead
~~~~~~~
I had a blast making this. Including the search for images it took me about a week and a half of serious editing and arranging. There are 138 still images, chosen from over 1,000. A piece of me goes into these videos. I hope you enjoyed it!
Peace,
Debbie less Added: Sep 3, 08 Views: 9 Category: Music |
|  | The Box (a tromp through the woods) 05:11 A tromp through the woods behind our house on a snowy evening...
I know this vid doesn't quite match the visuals the poem may inspire. I only hope more...it doesn't interfere. It serves as a visual back-drop to this poem I wrote about 11 years ago.
Showcasing my poetry is new to me on YouTube. So is everything on YT actually. Even though I have been on here well over a year, I have only been making videos 2 months. So I tried sitting and reading the poem to the camera. Booooor-ing! I just stared at the paper, read it and never looked up. So I did a compilation of photos for the last poem video, Mists of Heather. That sort of worked, but now on to this one.
I wrote this poem in about 5 minutes upon waking from a dream. I grabbed pen and paper by my nightstand and wrote it down exactly like you see below. Never changed a thing. Let me know what you think. And, if you have ideas for better ways to showcase poetry, let me know. I need a new computer with an upgraded operating system before I get too fancy with the vids. But, I long for the day I can be more creative and use my new camcorder!
Maybe these poems will be revisited then.
Oh, I zoom in on a beaver lodge on the far side of the pond. But it just looks like a snow-covered lump!
The Box
The prince removed, from a shelf on the wall A carved ivory box, barely 5 inches tall He studied the work, traced each line with his hand Felt that the workmanship, was unknown to man
The corners were golden, trimmed with the sun Each hinge was a masterpiece, second to none But in spite of the hinges, the clasp and the pin It baffled the prince, which way to get in
For days, many months, he struggled and tried To open it up, to see what's inside But the box, it eluded, the answer lay hid In mindless determination, he tried the small lid
It never occurred that he use any tool Somehow he knew, like some unwritten rule That his hands and his heart would open the prize He'd researched and asked, the old and the wise
Many had told him to set the box down To handle it not, or to sell it in town To pack it away, let it gather much dust Forget silly notions, ignore them, he must
A plan was devised, to help the prince sleep The small box was stolen, and buried quite deep In the moss covered garden, near a wall of decay The priests of the castle, hid it safely away
When it's absence was noticed next morn, by the prince He refused to eat, take no sustenance The wise men were baffled, their plan had back-fired The once handsome prince, now grew haggard and tired
Many days passed, and he seemed to go mad Wandered the gardens, empty and sad Till one day a shy child, of the gardener's wife Took the hand of the prince, and saved the man's life
She had seen the priests, watched where they'd hid The small ivory box, with the unyielding lid Together they dug, his soul barely living The child gave him strength; she was loving and giving
Nestled in linen, he found it that day Pulled it up from the grave, and wept in dismay For the gold had all tarnished, from days of neglect The ivory was muddied, close on inspect
The clasp seemed broken, even though he tried It still wouldn't give way, its secret safe inside Tears flowed from his eyes, as he looked at the child She wiped them away, and tenderly smiled
"My prince your tears will open the box" She spoke as she wiped them at once on the lock Quite effortlessly, as a feather in wind The stubborn box opened, no contents within
At least none that was seen when you looked inside But the prince's eyes widened, saw the face of his bride And several small children, his parents, and others The soft, tender faces of sisters, and brothers
For you see many years of politics and war Made this gentle man harden, emotions a chore Daily his duties had enveloped his life Till no feelings were there, not for children, or wife
Then the box had appeared on the shelf in the hall Held less Added: Feb 9, 08 Views: 23 Category: Video Blogs |
|  |  | Being But Men We Walked Into The Trees 01:08 One of my favorite poems...
"BEING BUT MEN" by Dylan Thomas - 1932
Being but men, we walked into the trees Afraid, letting our syllables be soft
more...
For fear of waking the rooks, For fear of coming Noiselessly into a world of wings and cries.
If we were children we might climb, Catch the rooks sleeping, and break no twig, And, after the soft ascent, Thrust out our heads above the branches To wonder at the unfailing stars.
Out of confusion, as the way is, And the wonder, that man knows, Out of the chaos would come bliss.
That, then, is loveliness, we said, Children in wonder watching the stars, Is the aim and the end.
Being but men, we walked into the trees.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The rooks/ravens/crows in the trees, you may have guessed, are not real birds. They are black plastic garbage bags that appeared about 5 years ago and we see them each weekend when we drive to the hospital where Rafe (TimberGeek) works. Each time you drive by you catch it out of the corner of your eye and swear they are birds. Amazing that they haven't blown out of the trees completely yet.
Music: Trio for Piano, Cello, and Clarinet www.incompetech.com less Added: Feb 9, 08 Views: 46 Category: Video Blogs |
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