W.B. Yeats Don’t Know Idaho

    • O you not hear me calling, white deer with no horns?
      I have been changed to a hound with one red ear;
      I have been in the Path of Stones and the Wood of Thorns,
      For somebody hid hatred and hope and desire and fear
      Under my feet that they follow you night and day.
      A man with a hazel wand came without sound;
      He changed me suddenly; I was looking another way;
      And now my calling is but the calling of a hound;
      And Time and Birth and Change are hurrying by.
      I would that the Boar without bristles had come from the West
      And had rooted the sun and moon and stars out of the sky
      And lay in the darkness, grunting, and turning to his rest.

by: William Butler Yeats (1865-1939) He Mourns for the Change that has Come Upon Him…

This poem has always been near and dear to my heart and every change of direction I make in life, this piece of literary art takes center stage in my mind. It is melancholy but like most of Yeats’ work, it wouldn’t be same if it were without some sadness. I guess that is a direct symbol of change. There has to be some mourning of the past to take on and accept the future. I miss the comforts of old, the people and my family. The sun has set on that day and the cold, lonely darkness of night is here but I can faintly see the purplish hue of dawn. A new day; my future. And it will be bright and warm with endless possibilities.

But then I was driving to campus and I passed this:

Hey Yeats! Got any poems about Idaho? I didn’t think so. Dick.

Edit: One more thing. There are somethings that are too good not to be shared. Please read. I almost had an “episode” in the library.


14 thoughts on “W.B. Yeats Don’t Know Idaho

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  1. What a life all those dogs must have. I’m loving the one on the far right, with just his head poking out. My guess is he’s the quiet, smart one of the bunch. He knows that they’re getting their picture taken right now. He’s actually planning his escape. He’s got his eye on settling down in the mountains somewhere. Maybe hang out with some turkeys or something. He’s had enough of this shit.

    Hey Ginny, you spell your name like the Ginny in the Harry Potter books. And that’s alright.

    Hey Bill, word on the street is there’s a slight snow flurry in Hell right now, cause I’ve got a new, teaser-y kind of post up over at my place. I mentioned you in it, along with some other folks…well, sort of.

  2. Ahhhh sweet William, you really threw me for a loop on this one, and it was a mighty, hearty, manly laugh on my part as a result…you are to punchlines what Paris Hilton is to whoring.

    Well done 🙂

  3. Oh my. I almost felt my heart weeping a little for you and then you posted that photo. Now all I can do is laugh. Haven’t seen anything that classy since I left Arkansas.

    Try ‘The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock’ by TS Eliot for those melancholy moments.

  4. it’s quite a testament to how many people love YOUR blog when, upon posting a link to MY blog, my hits tripled. you gotsa lotta fans, boy!

    and thanks for posting the pic on here. . .it was very small when you sent it to my phone. i may be posting a “stupid people” blog in a bit. my day at work was so full of them that i am now drinking a margarita and i NEVER drink these things.


  5. Oooh, PammyGirl has good taste in poetry! I also recommend T. S. Eliot. I think he’s the only poet who can use the semi-colon for grammatical drama without being a jackass, though I like Tennyson and Frost too.

  6. Oh Pammy, I just had a flashback to AP English, where we had to memorize the entire Prufrock poem. That’s A LOT of poetry to be reciting in front of class.

    As always, awesome photo Billy. Those dogs are just so adorable and just so perfectly Idaho.

Speak to me, Egor.

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