1. Welcome to the 12ozProphet Forum...
    You are currently logged out and viewing our forum as a guest which only allows limited access to our discussions, photos and other forum features. If you are a 12ozProphet Member please login to get the full experience.

    If you are not a 12ozProphet Member, please take a moment to register to gain full access to our website and all of its features. As a 12ozProphet Member you will be able to post comments, start discussions, communicate privately with other members and access members-only content. Registration is fast, simple and free, so join today and be a part of the largest and longest running Graffiti, Art, Style & Culture forum online.

    Please note, if you are a 12ozProphet Member and are locked out of your account, you can recover your account using the 'lost password' link in the login form. If you no longer have access to the email you registered with, please email us at info@12ozprophet.com and we'll help you recover your account. Welcome to the 12ozProphet Forum (and don't forget to follow @12ozprophet in Instagram)!

Temple of My Familiar

Discussion in 'Channel Zero' started by Ken E. Bus, Feb 21, 2003.

  1. Ken E. Bus

    Ken E. Bus 12oz Member

    Joined:
    May 7, 2002
    Messages:
    311

    Temple of My Familiar

    Discussion started by Ken E. Bus - Feb 21, 2003

    I'm reading this by Alice Walker. So far I am really enjoying it. There is one passage I wanted to share. With all the crap going on in the world these words just leave me longing.

    "He began to sing ever so gently, to his wife and children. A song about a country that wore green as its favorite dress; a land of rivers and of boats that from a distance made one think of the pods of dried vanilla beans. He sang of the people who came to this country long ago, from a land called Sun, how they'd discovered the river that flows through the ocean - and knew also of the one that flows through the heavens but had no means to travel it - and of how they met the people already there and how some of them ran off together to share each other's understanding of the world, and founded great civilizations almost by accident, though great civilization never notice or boast about whether they are great; and how, over time, these fell, and the people went off in all directions and lived the simple life of small peoples everywhere. Hunting and fishing and praying and making love and having babies."
     
    Ken E. Bus - Rank: 12oz Member - Messages:
    311
    - Joined:
    May 7, 2002
  2. Kr430n5_666

    Kr430n5_666 Banned

    Joined:
    Oct 6, 2004
    Messages:
    19,229

    Kr430n5_666 - Replied Feb 21, 2003

    As I die
    I hold my sword
    My only friend
    And pray that Oden
    Will take me home
     
    Kr430n5_666 - Rank: Banned - Messages:
    19,229
    - Joined:
    Oct 6, 2004
  3. casekonly

    casekonly 12oz Veteran Member

    Joined:
    Aug 6, 2002
    Messages:
    8,264

    casekonly - Replied Feb 21, 2003

    don't be a vagina and post that poem again...dammit..





    By a route obscure and lonely,
    Haunted by ill angels only,
    Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
    On a black throne reigns upright,
    I have reached these lands but newly
    From an ultimate dim Thule-
    From a wild clime that lieth, sublime,
    Out of SPACE- out of TIME.
    Bottomless vales and boundless floods,
    And chasms, and caves, and Titan woods,
    With forms that no man can discover
    For the tears that drip all over;
    Mountains toppling evermore
    Into seas without a shore;
    Seas that restlessly aspire,
    Surging, unto skies of fire;
    Lakes that endlessly outspread
    Their lone waters- lone and dead,-
    Their still waters- still and chilly
    With the snows of the lolling lily.
    By the lakes that thus outspread
    Their lone waters, lone and dead,-
    Their sad waters, sad and chilly
    With the snows of the lolling lily,-
    By the mountains- near the river
    Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever,-
    By the grey woods,- by the swamp
    Where the toad and the newt encamp-
    By the dismal tarns and pools
    Where dwell the Ghouls,-
    By each spot the most unholy-
    In each nook most melancholy-
    There the traveler meets aghast
    Sheeted Memories of the Past-
    Shrouded forms that start and sigh
    As they pass the wanderer by-
    White-robed forms of friends long given,
    In agony, to the Earth- and Heaven.
    For the heart whose woes are legion
    'Tis a peaceful, soothing region-
    For the spirit that walks in shadow
    'Tis- oh, 'tis an Eldorado!
    But the traveler, traveling through it,
    May not- dare not openly view it!
    Never its mysteries are exposed
    To the weak human eye unclosed;
    So wills its King, who hath forbid
    The uplifting of the fringed lid;
    And thus the sad Soul that here passes
    Beholds it but through darkened glasses.
    By a route obscure and lonely,
    Haunted by ill angels only,
    Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
    On a black throne reigns upright,
    I have wandered home but newly
    From this ultimate dim Thule




    can you feel that, necca?
     
    casekonly - Rank: 12oz Veteran Member - Messages:
    8,264
    - Joined:
    Aug 6, 2002