Favourite Poems and Prose.

now i’ve lulled you into a false sense of security…………………………….be afraid :twisted:

I agree wholeheartedly it is easier to give advice and be emotionally adult when it comes to other people, i feel the reason we cannot council ourselves so easily is because we no longer use our heads, we use our emotions and our family of origin dictates our reactions and behaviour, even though intellectually we can reason this our raw emotions are so deep they determine outcomes.

letting our masks slip – sadly when you have lived a bit of life you are not so ready to bare your soul to all, defence mechanisms set in and no amount of words can replace actions and the steady trust built which only time can do; some succeed with this and some just cant.

We are all human beings and in the grand scheme of the universe pretty insignificant i dont doubt.

flippin heck all a bit heavy me thinks….. maybe we should start a psychology thread!! you and me cath putting the world to rights!!! i’ll make the tea you bring the cakes xxxx

Once by the Pacific
by Robert Lee Frost

The shattered water made a misty din.
Great waves looked over others coming in,
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before.
The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,
Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.
You could not tell, and yet it looked as if
The shore was lucky in being backed by cliff,
The cliff in being backed by continent;
It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Someone had better be prepared for rage.
There would be more than ocean-water broken
Before God’s last *Put out the Light* was spoken.

Law, Like Love

Law, say the gardeners, is the sun,
Law is the one
All gardeners obey
To-morrow, yesterday, to-day.

Law is the wisdom of the old,
The impotent grandfathers feebly scold;
The grandchildren put out a treble tongue,
Law is the senses of the young.

Law, says the priest with a priestly look,
Expounding to an unpriestly people,
Law is the words in my priestly book,
Law is my pulpit and my steeple.

Law, says the judge as he looks down his nose,
Speaking clearly and most severely,
Law is as I’ve told you before,
Law is as you know I suppose,
Law is but let me explain it once more,
Law is The Law.

Yet law-abiding scholars write:
Law is neither wrong nor right,
Law is only crimes
Punished by places and by times,
Law is the clothes men wear
Anytime, anywhere,
Law is Good-morning and Good-night.

Others say, Law is our Fate;
Others say, Law is our State;
Others say, others say
Law is no more,
Law has gone away.

And always the loud angry crowd,
Very angry and very loud,
Law is We,
And always the soft idiot softly Me.

If we, dear, know we know no more
Than they about the Law,
If I no more than you
Know what we should and should not do
Except that all agree
Gladly or miserably
That the Law is
And that all know this
If therefore thinking it absurd
To identify Law with some other word,
Unlike so many men
I cannot say Law is again,
No more than they can we suppress
The universal wish to guess
Or slip out of our own position
Into an unconcerned condition.

Although I can at least confine
Your vanity and mine
To stating timidly
A timid similarity,
We shall boast anyway:
Like love I say.

Like love we don’t know where or why,
Like love we can’t compel or fly,
Like love we often weep,
Like love we seldom keep.

WH Auden

Days

What are days for ?
Days are where we live.
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days ?

Ah, solving that question
Brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running over the fields.

Philip Larkin