Tuesday, April 5, 2011


BSD reader John sent in the following pick-me-up poem by William Butler Yeats that I feel is worthy and wise enough to share with everyone.  Thanks John!  Known for his one night love affair with Maud Gonne (an ardent Irish Nationalist and bio-female), Yeats also had a reputation for falling in love with members of his own gender.

From verse V of "Nineteen Hundred and Nineteen":

Come let us mock at the great
That had such burdens on the mind
And toiled so hard and late
To leave some monument behind,
Nor thought of the levelling wind.
Come let us mock at the wise;
With all those calendars whereon
They fixed old aching eyes,
They never saw how seasons run,
And now but gape at the sun.
Come let us mock at the good
That fancied goodness might be gay,
And sick of solitude
Might proclaim a holiday:
Wind shrieked— and where are they?
Mock mockers after that
That would not lift a hand maybe
To help good, wise or great
To bar that foul storm out, for we
Traffic in mockery.


  1. Fuck the virgin whore complex

    I'm developing the great wise good mocking complex!

  2. I know that I shall meet my fate, somewhere among the clouds above. Those I fight I do not hate. Those I guard I do not love.