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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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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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