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Title: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on September 15, 2004, 01:05:18 AM Share your favorite poems.
Here's one of mine: Souls And Rain-Drops Light rain-drops fall and wrinkle the sea Then vanish, and die utterly One would not know that rain-drops fell If the round sea-wrinkles did not tell. So souls come down and wrinkle life And vanish in the flesh-sea strife One might not know that souls had place Were't not? for the wrinkles in life's face. -Unknown Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: SLCPUNK on September 15, 2004, 01:07:48 AM Roses are red
Violets are blue I?m a schizophrenic And so am I. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: D on September 15, 2004, 01:08:53 AM Im nothing without your touch my? love
im nothing without your kiss to spend each night in your arms my flower is man's idea of bliss to not hear your voice each day would be to die 7 times by god's wrath if i were anything other than human id be the water in your bath. ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Prince Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Danny on September 15, 2004, 01:09:53 AM "The Tiff"
You aks if I have your number And I reply It's tatooed to my ass Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: SLCPUNK on September 15, 2004, 01:10:52 AM Im nothing without your touch my? love im nothing without your kiss to spend each night in your arms my flower is man's idea of bliss to not hear your voice each day would be to die 7 times by god's wrath if i were anything other than human id be the water in your bath. ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? Prince Damn, that's pretty tight! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: D on September 15, 2004, 01:43:32 AM Because I could not stop for Death
Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves And Immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste, And I had put away My labour, and my leisure too, For his civility. We passed the school where children played, Their lessons scarcely done; We passed the fields of gazing grain, We passed the setting sun. We paused before a house that seemed A swelling of the ground; The roof was scarcely visible, The cornice but a mound. Since then 'tis centuries; but each Feels shorter than the day I first surmised the horses' heads Were toward eternity. Emily Dickinson Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on September 15, 2004, 01:44:16 AM Dylan Thomas? ?Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night?
Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight, And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way, Do not go gentle into that good night. Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light. And you, my father, there on the sad height, Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: matt88 on September 15, 2004, 06:02:32 AM I can no longer take the pain
I have to make it end I'm going to slit my wrists again So goodbye to you my friend Before I go I need to tell you How I feel inside What you really mean to me - A better friend would be hard to find You’ve always been there for me No matter what imp going through You make me sit and talk about it But I can see its hurting you So many times you’ve stopped me You say you need me in your life But I can only see me bringing you down Each time I pick up the knife I know I promised you I wouldn’t But you'll be okay just wait and see I know you can live a happy life You’re better off without me I drag the knife across my skin Blood runs to the floor Each time i'm cutting deeper I cant stand living anymore I close my eyes as I drift up Finally leaving reality behind I see the angels gather around But heavens not what I had in mind The angels I see are white As if they're glowing from within But I am dull, my wings are broken I guess suicides a sin They leave me alone in misery As I watch you from above Wishing I could be with you Wishing I could feel your love But I chose to take my life And I took you away as well I didn’t realise how much you loved me I'm putting you through hell I can see now, that you truly cared And loved me with all your heart I wish I didn’t take my life Its torn us both apart I can see you know, holding a knife Your locked inside your room You drag the knife across your skin And I hear you whisper “well be together soon”. My best friend wrote this not to long ago. I think she's very talented. In a few years she'll be writing A-grade material : ok: Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Skeletor on September 15, 2004, 06:27:50 AM 'The Throne of Tragedy' by J?rn Henrik Sv?ren
Hear! From this day forth are the heights of Horeb broken and the sea of sulphur -ice. And blasphemy! in heaven's chambers: Souls had fled their halls and closed was the book of life. And behold! The great, white throne: black with sacred blood. Our father- Dead by his own hands: an epitaph worthy no king. And so is everything a nameless lie. Who, my god, am I? Man knows me as Lucifer, the serpent of old. The wretched hold my banner high. Your gift -all life!- I grant a grave. Yet I am not your death. Come carry forth the crown to your once held throne. Here is where my suffering should cease -but alas: I am crowned in grief unheard of! In this lone monarchy -without friend of foe- I greet the morning sun with strife and a song: Please speak my name! And leave me not in the dust of death. I am weighed down beneath the tragedy crown,- nameless, and alone, a fatherless son. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on September 15, 2004, 01:37:10 PM A Wish? - Matthew Arnold
I ask not that my bed of death From bands of greedy heirs be free; For these besiege the latest breath Of fortune's favoured sons, not me. I ask not each kind soul to keep Tearless, when of my death he hears; Let those who will, if any, weep! There are worse plagues on earth than tears. I ask but that my death may find The freedom to my life denied; Ask but the folly of mankind, Then, at last, to quit my side. Spare me the whispering, crowded room, The friends who come, and gape, and go; The ceremonious air of gloom - All which makes death a hideous show! Nor bring, to see me cease to live, Some doctor full of phrase and fame, To shake his sapient head and give The ill he cannot cure a name. Nor fetch, to take the accustomed toll Of the poor sinner bound for death, His brother doctor of the soul, To canvass with official breath The future and its viewless things - That undiscovered mystery Which one who feels death's winnowing wings Must need read clearer, sure, than he! Bring none of these; but let me be, While all around in silence lies, Moved to the window near, and see Once more before my dying eyes Bathed in the sacred dew of morn The wide aerial landscape spread - The world which was ere I was born, The world which lasts when I am dead. Which never was the friend of one, Nor promised love it could not give, But lit for all its generous sun, And lived itself, and made us live. There let me gaze, till I become In soul with what I gaze on wed! To feel the universe my home; To have before my mind -instead Of the sick-room, the mortal strife, The turmoil for a little breath - The pure eternal course of life, Not human combatings with death. Thus feeling, gazing, let me grow Composed, refreshed, ennobled, clear; Then willing let my spirit go To work or wait elsewhere or here! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jim on September 15, 2004, 01:48:46 PM Now I havn't read much poetry, but I do enjoy it.
MCT... ...I havn't read that before. It's incredible. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on September 15, 2004, 02:33:39 PM ...I havn't read that before. It's incredible. Just one example of what some people refer to as - 'the good stuff'........... :yes: Here's another: A Poison Tree - William Blake I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end. I was angry with my foe; I told it not, my wrath did grow. And I water'd it in fears, Night & morning with my tears; And I sunned it with my smiles And with soft deceitful wiles. And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright; And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine, And into my garden stole When the night had veil'd the pole: In the morning glad I see My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree ================================================================ And now, something a little more simplistic........one of those little gems that one periodically comes across: Blood and Water - Jay Macpherson "Blood," my mother said, "is thicker." Dulls sooner, clots quicker, Crusts over. Water, said my heart, is sweeter, Sings clearer, leaps fleeter, Gives ever. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on September 15, 2004, 07:51:03 PM The poems that I love best are the ones that communicate the wonder of nature and science to us.? Although scientists are the ones who wonder the most about nature, it is often the poets who express this wonderment and magical feeling.
This is my absolute favorite poem by James Elroy Flecker To a Poet a Thousand Years Hence I who am dead a thousand years, And wrote this sweet archaic song, Send you my words for messengers The way I shall not pass along. I care not if you bridge the seas, Or ride secure in the cruel sky, Or build consummate palaces Of metal or of masonry. But have you wine and music still, And statues and a bright-eyed love, And foolish thoughts of good and ill, And prayers to them who sit above? How shall we conquer? Like a wind That falls at eve our fancies blow, And old Maeonides the blind Said it three thousand years ago, O friend unseen, unborn, unknown, Student of our sweet English tongue, Read out my words at night, alone: I was a poet, I was young. Since I can never see your face, And never shake you by the hand, I send my soul through time and space To greet you. You will understand. If only I could tell him that I want to ride the cruel sky and read out his words, alone, in the starry skies. Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. That one is for Axl? ;) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Eazy E on September 16, 2004, 02:02:10 AM Roses are brown,
Violets are brown, Who the hell shit in my garden? Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on September 23, 2004, 12:40:11 PM To A Young Ass - Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Its mother being tethered near it Poor little Foal of an oppress?d race! I love the languid patience of thy face: And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread, And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head. But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay?d, That never thou dost sport along the glade? And (most unlike the nature of things young) That earthward still thy moveless head is hung? Do thy prophetic fears anticipate, Meek Child of Misery! thy future fate? The starving meal, and all the thousand aches ?Which patient Merit of the Unworthy takes?? Or is thy sad heart thrill?d with filial pain To see thy wretched mother's shorten?d chain? And truly, very piteous is her lot - Chain?d to a log within a narrow spot, Where the close-eaten grass is scarcely seen, While sweet around her waves the tempting green! Poor Ass! they master should have learnt to show Pity - best taught by fellowship of Woe! For much I fear me that He lives like thee, Half famished in a land of Luxury! How askingly its footsteps hither bend? It seems to say, 'And have I then one friend?' Innocent foal! thou poor despis?d forlorn! I hail thee Brother - spite of the fool's scorn! And fain would take thee with me, in the Dell Of Peace and mild Equality to dwell, Where Toil shall call the charmer Health his bride, And Laughter tickle Plenty's ribless side! How thou wouldst toss thy heels in gamesome play, And frisk about, as lamb or kitten gay! Yea! and more musically sweet to me Thy dissonant harsh bray of joy would be, Than warbled melodies that soothe to rest The aching of pale Fashion's vacant breast! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: N.I.B on September 25, 2004, 09:50:29 PM im too lazy to type it our, n im pretty sure youve all heard this poem before, but my all time favourite poem is
The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on September 28, 2004, 11:18:46 AM The Last Word - Matthew Arnold
Creep into thy narrow bed, Creep, and let no more be said! Vain thy onset! all stands fast. Thou thyself must break at last. Let the long contention cease! Geese are swans, and swans are geese. Let them have it how they will! Thou art tired: best be still. They out-talked thee, hissed thee, tore thee? Better men fared thus before thee; Fired their ringing shot and passed, Hotly charged - and sank at last. Charge once more, then, and be dumb! Let the victors, when they come, When the forts of folly fall, Find thy body by the wall! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Prometheus on September 28, 2004, 11:35:01 AM WILD nights! Wild nights!?
Were I with thee,? Wild nights should be? Our luxury!? ? ? Futile the winds? ? ? ? ? To a heart in port,?? Done with the compass,? Done with the chart.? ? ? Rowing in Eden!? Ah! the sea!? ? ? ? ? Might I but moor? To-night in thee! -Emily Dickinson Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mattman on September 29, 2004, 06:20:58 PM "The Odyssey" by Homer technically counts as a poem, right? ?:hihi:
In that case... http://darkwing.uoregon.edu/~joelja/odyssey.html Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Hodgson on September 30, 2004, 12:34:36 PM This is my absolute favorite poem by James Elroy Flecker To a Poet a Thousand Years Hence Thanks for posting that. I've read a lot of poetry and I'm not quite sure how I overlooked him before. But I've done a yahoo search and have already found others by him that I like. Here's a favorite of mine by Robert Graves: WARNING TO CHILDREN Children, if you dare to think Of the greatness, rareness, muchness, Fewness of this precious only Endless world in which you say You live, you think of things like this: Blocks of slate enclsoing dappled Red and green, enclosing tawny Yellow nets, enclosing white And black acres of dominoes, Where a neat brown paper parcel Tempts you to untie the string. In the parcel a small island, On the island a large tree, On the tree a husky fruit. Strip the husk and pare the rind off: In the kernal you will see Blocks of slate enclosed by dappled Red and gree, enclosed by tawny Yellow nets, enclosed by white And Black acres of dominoes, Where the same brown paper parcel-- Children, leave the string alone! For who dares undo the parcel Finds himself at once inside it, On the island, in the fruit, Blocks of slate about his head, Finds himself enclosed by dappled Green and red, enclosed by yellow Tawny nets, enclosed by black And white acres of dominoes, With the same brown paper parcel Still unopened on his knee. And, if he then should dare to think Of the fewness, muchness, rareness, Greatness of this endless only Precious world in which he says He lives--he then unties the string. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on November 01, 2004, 09:33:00 PM Five Ways To Kill A Man - Edwin Brock
There are many cumbersome ways to kill a man: you can make him carry a plank of wood to the top of a hill and nail him to it. To do this properly you require a crowd of people wearing sandals, a cock that crows, a cloak to dissect, a sponge, some vinegar and one man to hammer the nails home. Or you can take a length of steel, shaped and chased in a traditional way, and attempt to pierce the metal cage he wears. But for this you need white horses, English trees, men with bows and arrows, at least two flags, a prince and a castle to hold your banquet in. Dispensing with nobility, you may, if the wind allows, blow gas at him. But then you need a mile of mud sliced through with ditches, not to mention black boots, bomb craters, more mud, a plague of rats, a dozen songs and some round hats made of steel. In an age of aeroplanes, you may fly miles above your victim and dispose of him by pressing one small switch. All you then require is an ocean to separate you, two systems of government, a nation's scientists, several factories, a psychopath and land that no one needs for several years. There are, as I began, cumbersome ways to kill a man. Simpler, direct, and much more neat is to see that he is living somewhere in the middle of the twentieth century, and leave him there. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: LeftToDecay on November 01, 2004, 11:54:20 PM The second coming,
by W. B. Yeats Turning and turning in the widening gyre The falcon cannot hear the falconer; Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all convictions, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the Second Coming is at hand. The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert A shape with lion body and the head of a man, A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun, Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds. The darkness drops again; but now I know That twenty centuries of stony sleep Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle, And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born? Piece De Resistance, by Brian Warner When the fork eats the spoon, And the knife stabs The face in the plate, Dinner is over. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on November 30, 2004, 02:21:37 AM "Mad Girl's Love Song"
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.) God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade: Exit seraphim and Satan's men: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.) I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)" - Sylvia Plath Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Drew on November 30, 2004, 10:46:54 AM Fantastic thread Journey. : ok:
"IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME" (Author: Gallen) If I could be young once again I would have sooner met you and all that would have remained is the love I have for you If I could have just shown you how much you mean to me then I could have died happily with the tears of joy in me If I could have been your knight brave and donned in shining armour then I would have been your prince and not as your friend anymore If I could have been a stranger and not as myself to you then I might have had the courage to say wholeheartedly I love you If I could have lived my life then you could have seen me through because all that I had ever did was for you to love me too If I could have just seen tomorrow I would have jumped ahead of time because today it might have not ended and today you might have been mine Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on December 03, 2004, 03:52:03 AM "Changed"
I KNOW not why my soul is racked: Why I ne'er smile as was my wont: I only know that, as a fact, I don't. I used to roam o'er glen and glade Buoyant and blithe as other folk: And not unfrequently I made A joke. A minstrel's fire within me burned. I'd sing, as one whose heart must break, Lay upon lay: I nearly learned To shake. All day I sang; of love, of fame, Of fights our fathers fought of yore, Until the thing almost became A bore. I cannot sing the old songs now! It is not that I deem them low; 'Tis that I can't remember how They go. I could not range the hills till high Above me stood the summer moon: And as to dancing, I could fly - Charles S. Calverley Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on December 03, 2004, 12:16:26 PM Lone Dog - Irene Rutherford Mcleod
I'm a lean dog, a keen dog, a wild dog, and lone; I'm a rough dog, a tough dog, hunting on my own; I'm a bad dog, a mad dog, teasing silly sheep; I love to sit and bay the moon, to keep fat souls from sleep. I'll never be a lap dog, licking dirty feet, A sleek dog, a meek dog, cringing for my meat, Not for me the fireside, the well-filled plate, But shut door, and sharp stone, and cuff and kick, and hate. Not for me the other dogs, running by my side, Some have run a short while, but none of them would bide. O mine is still the lone trail, the hard trail, the best, Wide wind, and wild stars, and hunger of the quest! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Dizzie on December 24, 2004, 06:01:43 PM hey guys...i'm just happy i got to read some interesting stuff here...(neet thread :) )
as far as i've read...E.A. Poe (the most eloquent poem would be "the raven"..."and my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor/ shall be lifted - nevermore !"...i can't quote the entire poem, i'm too drunk to do a search in my pc)...W. Blake is also great...like any of the "songs of experience"...try Milton's "Paradise Lost" :hihi: music-related i'd mention Jim Morrison's poems...damn admirable i gotta read more and recover my memory to say more ::) peace :peace: Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on December 25, 2004, 08:04:14 PM I love Sylvia Plath, journey. She's incredibly weird. :)
"Stillness" When the words rustle no more, And the last work's done, When the bolt lies deep in the door, And Fire, our Sun, Falls on the dark-laned meadows of the floor; When from the clock's last time to the next chime Silence beats his drum, And Space with gaunt grey eyes and her brother Time Wheeling and whispering come, She with the mould of form and he with the loom of rhyme, Then twittering out in the night my thought-birds flee, I am emptied of all my dreams: I only hear Earth turning, only see Ether's long bankless streams, And only know I should drown if you Laid not your hand on me. - James Elroy Flecker Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on December 27, 2004, 01:58:37 AM "Songs for the People"
Let me make the songs for the people, ? ?Songs for the old and young; Songs to stir like a battle-cry ? ?Wherever they are sung. Not for the clashing of sabres, ? ?For carnage nor for strife; But songs to thrill the hearts of men ? ?With more abundant life. Let me make the songs for the weary, ? ?Amid life's fever and fret, Till hearts shall relax their tension, ? ?And careworn brows forget. Let me sing for little children, ? ?Before their footsteps stray, Sweet anthems of love and duty, ? ?To float o'er life's highway. I would sing for the poor and aged, ? ?When shadows dim their sight; Of the bright and restful mansions, ? ?Where there shall be no night. Our world, so worn and weary, ? ?Needs music, pure and strong, To hush the jangle and discords ? ?Of sorrow, pain, and wrong. Music to soothe all its sorrow, ? ?Till war and crime shall cease; And the hearts of men grown tender ? ?Girdle the world with peace. - Frances Ellen Watkins Harper Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: norway on December 27, 2004, 03:07:12 AM This is just some parts of jim morrisons poems i like
The movie will begin in five moments, The mindless voice announced, All those unseated will await the next show. We filed slowly, languidly into the hall. The auditorium was vast and silent. As we seated and darkened, the voice continued: The program for this evening is not new, You've seen this entertainment through and through. You've seen your birth, your life and death, You might recall all of the rest. Did you have a good world when you died? Enough to base a movie on? ***************************************** So you know how pale & wanton thrillful comes death on a strange hour unannounced, unplanned for like a scaring over-friendly guest you've brought to bed No more money, no more fancy dress This other Kingdom seems by far the best until its other jaw reveals incest & loose obedience to a vegetable law I will not go Prefer a Feast of Friends To the Giant Family Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on April 27, 2005, 10:05:02 PM "If"
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream - and not make dreams your master, If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son! --Rudyard Kipling-- Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mattman on April 28, 2005, 12:31:38 AM Hey, this is a poem I learned about in English class this year and it's fucking hilarious! It's about premature ejaculation.
The Imperfect Enjoyment Naked she lay, clasped in my longing arms, I filled with love, and she all over charms; Both equally inspired with eager fire, Melting through kindness, flaming in desire. With arms, legs, lips close clinging to embrace, She clips me to her breast, and sucks me to her face. Her nimble tongue, Love's lesser lightening, played Within my mouth, and to my thoughts conveyed Swift orders that I should prepare to throw The all-dissolving thunderbolt below. My fluttering soul, sprung with the painted kiss, Hangs hovering o'er her balmy brinks of bliss. But whilst her busy hand would guide that part Which should convey my soul up to her heart, In liquid raptures I dissolve all o'er, Melt into sperm and, and spend at every pore. A touch from any part of her had done't: Her hand, her foot, her very look's a cunt. Smiling, she chides in a kind murmuring noise, And from her body wipes the clammy joys, When, with a thousand kisses wandering o'er My panting bosom, "Is there then no more?" She cries. "All this to love and rapture's due; Must we not pay a debt to pleasure too?" But I, the most forlorn, lost man alive, To show my wished obedience vainly strive: I sigh, alas! and kiss, but cannot swive. Eager desires confound my first intent, Succeeding shame does more success prevent, And rage at last confirms me impotent. Ev'n her fair hand, which might bid heat return To frozen age, and make cold hermits burn, Applied to my dead cinder, warms no more Than fire to ashes could past flames restore. Trembling, confused, despairing, limber, dry, A wishing, weak, unmoving lump I lie. This dart of love, whose piercing point, oft tried, With virgin blood ten thousand maids have dyed; Which nature still directed with such art That it through every cunt reached every heart - Stiffly resolved, 'twould carelessly invade Woman or man, nor aught its fury stayed: Where'er it pierced, a cunt it found or made - Now languid lies in this unhappy hour, Shrunk up and sapless like a withered flower. Thou treacherous, base deserter of my flame, False to my passion, fatal to my fame, Through what mistaken magic dost thou prove So true to lewdness, so untrue to love? What oyster-cinder-beggar-common whore Didst thou e'er fail in all thy life before? When vice, disease, and scandal lead the way, With what officious haste dost thou obey! Like a rude, roaring hector in the streets Who scuffles, cuffs, and justles all he meets, But if his king or country claim his aid, The rakehell villain shrinks and hides his head; Ev'n so thy brutal valour is displayed, Breaks every stew, does each small whore invade, But when great Love the onset does command, Base recreant to thy prince, thou dar'st not stand. Worst part of me, and henceforth hated most, Through all the town a common fucking-post, On whom each whore relieves her tingling cunt As hogs do rub themselves on gates and grunt, May'st thou to ravenous chancres be a prey, Or in consuming weepings waste away; May strangury and stone thy days attend; May'st thou ne'er piss, who did refuse to spend When all my joys did on false thee depend. And may ten thousand abler pricks agree To do the wronged Corinna right for thee. - John Wilmot, the Second Earl of Rochester Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Drew on May 08, 2005, 09:54:30 AM Love is the only bow on life's dark cloud.
It is the Morning and the Evening Star. It shines upon the cradle of the babe, and sheds its radiance upon the quiet tomb. It is the mother of Art, inspirer of poet, patriot, and philosopher. It is the air and light of every heart, builder of every home, kindler of every fire on every hearth. It was the first to dream of immortality. It fills the world with melody, for Music is the voice of Love. Love is the magician, the enchanter, that changes worthless things to joy, and makes right royal kings and queens of common clay. It is the perfume of the wondrous flower -- the heart and without that sacred passion, that divine swoon, we are less than beasts; but with it, earth is heaven and we are gods. - Robert G. Ingersoll Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Laura on May 08, 2005, 11:19:49 AM This is my favorite poem... its called...
Porphyria's Lover by Robert Browning THE rain set early in to-night, The sullen wind was soon awake, It tore the elm-tops down for spite, And did its worst to vex the lake: I listen'd with heart fit to break. When glided in Porphyria; straight She shut the cold out and the storm, And kneel'd and made the cheerless grate Blaze up, and all the cottage warm; Which done, she rose, and from her form Withdrew the dripping cloak and shawl, And laid her soil'd gloves by, untied Her hat and let the damp hair fall, And, last, she sat down by my side And call'd me. When no voice replied, She put my arm about her waist, And made her smooth white shoulder bare, And all her yellow hair displaced, And, stooping, made my cheek lie there, And spread, o'er all, her yellow hair, Murmuring how she loved me?she Too weak, for all her heart's endeavour, To set its struggling passion free From pride, and vainer ties dissever, And give herself to me for ever. But passion sometimes would prevail, Nor could to-night's gay feast restrain A sudden thought of one so pale For love of her, and all in vain: So, she was come through wind and rain. Be sure I look'd up at her eyes Happy and proud; at last I knew Porphyria worshipp'd me; surprise Made my heart swell, and still it grew While I debated what to do. That moment she was mine, mine, fair, Perfectly pure and good: I found A thing to do, and all her hair In one long yellow string I wound Three times her little throat around, And strangled her. No pain felt she; I am quite sure she felt no pain. As a shut bud that holds a bee, I warily oped her lids: again Laugh'd the blue eyes without a stain. And I untighten'd next the tress About her neck; her cheek once more Blush'd bright beneath my burning kiss: I propp'd her head up as before, Only, this time my shoulder bore Her head, which droops upon it still: The smiling rosy little head, So glad it has its utmost will, That all it scorn'd at once is fled, And I, its love, am gain'd instead! Porphyria's love: she guess'd not how Her darling one wish would be heard. And thus we sit together now, And all night long we have not stirr'd, And yet God has not said a word! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on May 10, 2005, 08:17:12 AM Nice poem Laura. First time I've ever read it too; well, it's about the fourth or fifth time now, but thanks for posting it all the same.
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: ClintroN on May 11, 2005, 01:44:26 AM roses are red
violets are blue let me stab my dick into you Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on May 11, 2005, 10:51:45 PM roses are red
violets are blue that was stupid Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: ClintroN on May 12, 2005, 03:35:03 AM and so are you...
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on May 12, 2005, 04:32:26 PM A charm invests a face
Imperfectly beheld. The lady dare not lift her veil For fear it be dispelled. But peers beyond her mesh, And wishes, and denies, Lest interview annul a want That image satisfies. -- Emily Dickinson, 'A charm inverts a face' Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on May 12, 2005, 05:08:56 PM and so are you... roses are red violets are blue again, that was stupid and please don't retort with, "and so are you..." Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Eazy E on May 12, 2005, 11:51:31 PM Roses are brown
Violets are brown Who the hell shit in my garden? Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on May 13, 2005, 02:57:11 PM "The World Is a Beautiful Place" by Lawrence Ferlinghetti
The world is a beautiful place to be born into if you don't mind happiness not always being so very much fun if you don't mind a touch of hell now and then just when everything is fine because even in heaven they don't sing all the time The world is a beautiful place to be born into if you don't mind some people dying all the time or maybe only starving some of the time which isn't half bad if it isn't you Oh the world is a beautiful place to be born into if you don't much mind a few dead minds in the higher places or a bomb or two now and then in your upturned faces or such other improprieties as our Name Brand society is prey to with its men of distinction and its men of extinction and its priests and other patrolmen and its various segregations and congressional investigations and other constipations that our fool flesh is heir to Yes the world is the best place of all for a lot of such things as making the fun scene and making the love scene and making the sad scene and singing low songs and having inspirations and walking around looking at everything and smelling flowers and goosing statues and even thinking and kissing people and making babies and wearing pants and waving hats and dancing and going swimming in rivers on picnics in the middle of the summer and just generally 'living it up' Yes but then right in the middle of it comes the smiling mortician Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on May 16, 2005, 03:03:06 PM "I Cry"
Sometimes when I'm alone I Cry, Cause I am on my own. The tears I cry are bitter and warm. They flow with life but take no form I Cry because my heart is torn. I find it difficult to carry on. If I had an ear to confiding, I would cry among my treasured friend, but who do you know that stops that long, to help another carry on. The world moves fast and it would rather pass by. Then to stop and see what makes one cry, so painful and sad. And sometimes... I Cry and no one cares about why. - Tupac Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Axls Locomotive on May 16, 2005, 04:39:20 PM As I awoke this Morning,
when all sweet things are born, A robin perched upon my window sill to greet the coming morn He sang his song so sweetly, and paused for a moment's lull. I gently raised the window, and crushing his 'fucking' skull Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on June 07, 2005, 04:39:46 AM Beautiful Dreamer
by Stephen Foster Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me, Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee; Sounds of the rude world heard in the day, Lull'd by the moonlight have all pass'd a way! Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song, List while I woo thee with soft melody; Gone are the cares of life's busy throng, -- Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me! Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea Mermaids are chaunting the wild lorelie; Over the streamlet vapors are borne, Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn. Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart, E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea; Then will all clouds of sorrow depart, -- Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on June 07, 2005, 02:08:53 PM Beautiful Dreamer by Stephen? Foster Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me, Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee; Sounds of the rude world heard in the day, Lull'd by the moonlight have all pass'd a way! Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song, List while I woo thee with soft melody; Gone are the cares of life's busy throng, -- Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me! Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea Mermaids are chaunting the wild lorelie; Over the streamlet vapors are borne, Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn. Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart, E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea; Then will all clouds of sorrow depart, -- Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me! You like the Care Bears? Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on June 07, 2005, 02:23:40 PM Beautiful Dreamer by Stephen? Foster Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me, Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee; Sounds of the rude world heard in the day, Lull'd by the moonlight have all pass'd a way! Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song, List while I woo thee with soft melody; Gone are the cares of life's busy throng, -- Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me! Beautiful dreamer, out on the sea Mermaids are chaunting the wild lorelie; Over the streamlet vapors are borne, Waiting to fade at the bright coming morn. Beautiful dreamer, beam on my heart, E'en as the morn on the streamlet and sea; Then will all clouds of sorrow depart, -- Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me! You like the Care Bears? I'll have to sleep on that question. Who's your favorite Care Bear? Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on June 07, 2005, 02:30:12 PM You like the Care Bears? I'll have to sleep on that question. Who's your favorite Care Bear? Swiftheart Rabbit. Even though he's technically a Care Bear Cousin... ;) Beyond him (or is it a her?) it's between Grumpy and Tenderheart. Anyway, that song you posted was sung by Treatheart in one particular episode... Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on June 07, 2005, 02:45:37 PM You like the Care Bears? I'll have to sleep on that question. Who's your favorite Care Bear? Swiftheart Rabbit. Even though he's technically a Care Bear Cousin... ;) Beyond him (or is it a her?) it's between Grumpy and Tenderheart. Anyway, that song you posted was sung by Treatheart in one particular episode... That's adorable. I'm more of a Strawberry Shortcake fan. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on June 07, 2005, 09:49:02 PM That's adorable. Great! Now Donnie's gonna kill me... :nervous: Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on June 18, 2005, 02:16:35 PM This is for Donald and his current state of mind:
Recessional Growth "Angst," they say, "is childish" a product of the days of yore. Watch out then little children for the day when I mature; when wisdom takes ahold and amplifies it more! --Some Jackass-- Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: 2NaFish on June 18, 2005, 03:43:56 PM The Thought Fox
by Ted Hughes I imagine this midnight moment?s forest: Something else is alive Beside the clock?s loneliness And this blank page where my fingers move. Through the window I see no star: Something more near Though deeper within darkness Is entering the loneliness: Cold, delicately as the dark snow, A fox?s nose touches twig, leaf; Two eyes serve a movement, that now And again now, and now, and now Sets neat prints into the snow Between trees, and warily a lame Shadow lags by stump and in hollow Of a body that is bold to come Across clearings, an eye, A widening deepening greenness, Brilliantly, concentratedly, Coming about its own business Till, with a sudden sharp hot stink of fox It enters the dark hole of the head. The window is starless still; the clock ticks, The page is printed Probably my favourite poem ever. It's all about the nature of the creative process, and there's so much to be reas into every single word and line i could probably write for pages and pages. But i wont. I'll let you guys read it and analyse it and ultimately, hopefully, enjoy it. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on June 19, 2005, 02:56:50 PM Quote It's all about the nature of the creative process wow - I didnt see that when I read it the first time, but it's a very striking...metaphor? or is it symbolism? anyway, it was great. I'm gonna take some liberty with 'Your favorite poems' and extend it to your short favorite short prose. Hope you dont mind, journey ;D I came across this one, and felt like I was in a dream world. Forest Tent Caterpillars By VERLYN KLINKENBORG I got used to the permeability of our house long ago. In and out we come all day long, and so do the dogs - to the pastures and the corral, to visit the ducklings and goslings in the horse trailer, to admire the new gilts in the hog pen, to feed the chickens and gather eggs. We learned early on to leave our boots in the mudroom and to check ourselves for ticks at night. We like the bats that nest in the eaves, and we don't so much mind the chipmunks that sometimes disappear through the cracks in the foundation. We no longer really hear the sound of mice and flying squirrels in the walls at night. We all seem, somehow, to live in each other's margins. But the other day I found a forest tent caterpillar climbing a computer cable in my office. The creature had ridden one of us into the house. Its presence was oddly revolting, if hardly surprising. Forest tent caterpillars are everywhere this season. I find them on the fence rails. They drown in the duck tank. Wherever the hand naturally goes - to a gate latch or a bucket handle - it is sure to find forest tent caterpillars, sometimes the tiny ones, barely an inch long, as thin as a tightly spun yarn, and sometimes the big ones, two inches and nearly as fat as a pencil. Considered solely as a contrivance of nature, they can be quite beautiful. A line of ivory-colored keyholes runs down the back, and the sides are demurely brushed with an eye-shadow blue. But I rarely think of the caterpillars this way, not during an outbreak as serious as this one. I brush them off my shoulders and hat and sunglasses as I mow the pasture. I shake them off the windshield wipers to keep them from being squashed against the glass. And every now and then I come upon a tree where they have massed on the trunk, a somber congregation of caterpillars holding themselves still along the bark while one or two, around the edges, twitch with the promptings of some holy fire. In such numbers, they actually look like bark, as though the surface of the tree might begin to writhe. I don't know why this causes such revulsion in me. Forest tent caterpillars don't bite human flesh, they don't stink, they don't carry diseases, and they aren't personally unhandsome. It isn't the thought of their numbers - millions and millions of them from the upper Midwest eastward - or the extensive defoliation they cause. But everywhere they go they lay down trails of silk, as though they were wiring the woods. A high wind brings them kiting down from the leaves, suspended in midair. To walk outdoors these days is to wind oneself in their gossamer, as if you were being spun into one of the yellow cocoons they leave behind. I watch closely to see if the poultry will eat them. Some days the birds seem like our last line of defense. Living in LA, I dont get to see the rustic beauty she describes, or experience the annoyance of funny caterpillars. But after reading it, I feel like I'm there. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on June 19, 2005, 03:10:58 PM I'm gonna take some liberty with 'Your favorite poems' and extend it to your short favorite short prose. Hope you dont mind, journey? ;D? Mi casa, tu casa, random. ;) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: kathryn2662 on June 20, 2005, 09:56:35 PM When We Two Parted - by Lord Byron
When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted, To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this. The dew of the morning Sank chill on my brow? It felt like the warning Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame: I hear thy name spoken, And share in its shame. They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o'er me? Why wert thou so dear? They know not I knew thee, Who knew thee too well:? Long, long shall I rue thee Too deeply to tell. In secret we met? In silence I grieve That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee?? With silence and tears. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: kathryn2662 on June 20, 2005, 10:00:29 PM - Jim Morrison :-* -
Heavy Metal Queen The girl of my dreams. She's got a hold on me. Her long steel fingers. Scratching for my feet. I see her she looks quite right. I'm happy she's her tonight. So take me my miss hot score. I want you to give me more. Oh for heaven's sake. I can't believe my. Heavy Metal Queen. Come with me now if you can. Reaching out she takes my hand. Leaving in a car that's fast. Warm sun rays across the grass. She is falling for me. My Heavy Metal Queen. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on June 23, 2005, 09:08:55 PM Cats No Less Liquid Than Their Shadows
Cats no less liquid than their shadows Offer no angles to the wind. They slip, diminished, neat through loopholes Less than themselves; will not be pinned To rules or routes for journeys; counter Attack with non-resistance; twist Enticing through the curving fingers And leave an angered empty fist. They wait obsequious as darkness Quick to retire, quick to return; Admit no aim or ethics; flatter With reservations; will not learn To answer to their names; are seldom Truly owned till shot or skinned. Cats no less liquid than their shadows Offer no angles to the wind. --A. S. J. Tessimond-- Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jim on June 25, 2005, 09:54:37 PM Not, a 'favourite' but, in context (again), that word has little meaning....
All asside, a great poem: I am-yet what I am, none cares or knows; My friends forsake me like a memory lost: I am the self-consumer of my woes- They rise and vanish in oblivions host, Like shadows in love frenzied stifled throes And yet I am, and live-like vapours tost Into the nothingness of scorn and noise, Into the living sea of waking dreams, Where there is neither sense of life or joys, But the vast shipwreck of my lifes esteems; Even the dearest that I love the best Are strange-nay, rather, stranger than the rest. I long for scenes where man hath never trod A place where woman never smiled or wept There to abide with my Creator God, And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept, Untroubdling and untroubled where I lie, The grass below, above, the vaulted sky. As a side not, I am far from sober, and I typed the above myself. So, feel free to correct any mistakes. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on June 25, 2005, 10:10:22 PM I see one mistake, but I don't really clare about that... ;)
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jim on June 25, 2005, 10:20:24 PM Is it the 'untroubling' one?
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on June 26, 2005, 04:05:21 PM Is it the 'untroubling' one? Do you even clare? Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Lisa on June 26, 2005, 05:12:41 PM here is a simple one but one of my all time favs...
W.H. Auden -(Funeral Blues)Stop All The Clocks. Stop all the clocks,cut off the telephone Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the piano and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come Let the aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead Put crepe bows round the white necks of public doves Let traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves He was my North, my South, my East and West My working week and my Sunday rest My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song I thought love would last forever; I was wrong The stars are not wanted now, put out every one Pack up the moon, dismantle the sun Put away the ocean and sweep up the wood For nothing now can ever come to any good. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on June 27, 2005, 03:01:27 AM Sylvia Plath - Insomniac
The night is only a sort of carbon paper, Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars Letting in the light, peephole after peephole -- A bonewhite light, like death, behind all things. Under the eyes of the stars and the moon's rictus He suffers his desert pillow, sleeplessness Stretching its fine, irritating sand in all directions. Over and over the old, granular movie Exposes embarrassments--the mizzling days Of childhood and adolescence, sticky with dreams, Parental faces on tall stalks, alternately stern and tearful, A garden of buggy rose that made him cry. His forehead is bumpy as a sack of rocks. Memories jostle each other for face-room like obsolete film stars. He is immune to pills: red, purple, blue -- How they lit the tedium of the protracted evening! Those sugary planets whose influence won for him A life baptized in no-life for a while, And the sweet, drugged waking of a forgetful baby. Now the pills are worn-out and silly, like classical gods. Their poppy-sleepy colors do him no good. His head is a little interior of grey mirrors. Each gesture flees immediately down an alley Of diminishing perspectives, and its significance Drains like water out the hole at the far end. He lives without privacy in a lidless room, The bald slots of his eyes stiffened wide-open On the incessant heat-lightning flicker of situations. Nightlong, in the granite yard, invisible cats Have been howling like women, or damaged instruments. Already he can feel daylight, his white disease, Creeping up with her hatful of trivial repetitions. The city is a map of cheerful twitters now, And everywhere people, eyes mica-silver and blank, Are riding to work in rows, as if recently brainwashed. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on June 27, 2005, 03:24:43 PM Anne Sexton - Courage
It is in the small things we see it. The child's first step, as awesome as an earthquake. The first time you rode a bike, wallowing up the sidewalk. The first spanking when your heart went on a journey all alone. When they called you crybaby or poor or fatty or crazy and made you into an alien, you drank their acid and concealed it. Later, if you faced the death of bombs and bullets you did not do it with a banner, you did it with only a hat to comver your heart. You did not fondle the weakness inside you though it was there. Your courage was a small coal that you kept swallowing. If your buddy saved you and died himself in so doing, then his courage was not courage, it was love; love as simple as shaving soap. Later, if you have endured a great despair, then you did it alone, getting a transfusion from the fire, picking the scabs off your heart, then wringing it out like a sock. Next, my kinsman, you powdered your sorrow, you gave it a back rub and then you covered it with a blanket and after it had slept a while it woke to the wings of the roses and was transformed. Later, when you face old age and its natural conclusion your courage will still be shown in the little ways, each spring will be a sword you'll sharpen, those you love will live in a fever of love, and you'll bargain with the calendar and at the last moment when death opens the back door you'll put on your carpet slippers and stride out. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jim on June 27, 2005, 07:18:53 PM Is it the 'untroubling' one? Do you even clare? No, I only ask because I think you're wrong, and it ain't no mistake partner. :P Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on June 28, 2005, 11:10:44 AM Is it the 'untroubling' one? Do you even clare? No, I only ask because I think you're wrong, and it ain't no mistake partner.? :P Clare. John Clare. I Am I am: yet what I am none cares or knows, My friends forsake me like a memory lost; I am the self-consumer of my woes, They rise and vanish in oblivious host, Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost; And yet I am, and live with shadows tost Into the nothingness of scorn and noise, Into the living sea of waking dreams, Where there is neither sense of life nor joys, But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems; And e'en the dearest - that I loved the best - Are strange - nay, rather stranger than the rest. I long for scenes where man has never trod, A place where woman never smiled or wept; There to abide with my Creator, God, And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept: Untroubling and untroubled where I lie, The grass below - above the vaulted sky. --John Clare-- It's not the untroubling one... Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on June 28, 2005, 03:24:50 PM Anne Sexton - Cinderella
You always read about it: the plumber with the twelve children who wins the Irish Sweepstakes. From toilets to riches. That story. Or the nursemaid, some luscious sweet from Denmark who captures the oldest son's heart. from diapers to Dior. That story. Or a milkman who serves the wealthy, eggs, cream, butter, yogurt, milk, the white truck like an ambulance who goes into real estate and makes a pile. From homogenized to martinis at lunch. That story. Or the charwoman who is on the bus when it cracks up and collects enough from the insurance. From mops to Bonwit Teller. That story. Once the wife of a rich man was on her deathbed and she said to her daughter Cinderella: Be devout. Be good. Then I will smile down from heaven in the seam of a cloud. The man took another wife who had two daughters, pretty enough but with hearts like blackjacks. Cinderella was their maid. She slept on the sooty hearth each night and walked around looking like Al Jolson. Her father brought presents home from town, jewels and gowns for the other women but the twig of a tree for Cinderella. She planted that twig on her mother's grave and it grew to a tree where a white dove sat. Whenever she wished for anything the dove would drop it like an egg upon the ground. The bird is important, my dears, so heed him. Next came the ball, as you all know. It was a marriage market. The prince was looking for a wife. All but Cinderella were preparing and gussying up for the event. Cinderella begged to go too. Her stepmother threw a dish of lentils into the cinders and said: Pick them up in an hour and you shall go. The white dove brought all his friends; all the warm wings of the fatherland came, and picked up the lentils in a jiffy. No, Cinderella, said the stepmother, you have no clothes and cannot dance. That's the way with stepmothers. Cinderella went to the tree at the grave and cried forth like a gospel singer: Mama! Mama! My turtledove, send me to the prince's ball! The bird dropped down a golden dress and delicate little slippers. Rather a large package for a simple bird. So she went. Which is no surprise. Her stepmother and sisters didn't recognize her without her cinder face and the prince took her hand on the spot and danced with no other the whole day. As nightfall came she thought she'd better get home. The prince walked her home and she disappeared into the pigeon house and although the prince took an axe and broke it open she was gone. Back to her cinders. These events repeated themselves for three days. However on the third day the prince covered the palace steps with cobbler's wax and Cinderella's gold shoe stuck upon it. Now he would find whom the shoe fit and find his strange dancing girl for keeps. He went to their house and the two sisters were delighted because they had lovely feet. The eldest went into a room to try the slipper on but her big toe got in the way so she simply sliced it off and put on the slipper. The prince rode away with her until the white dove told him to look at the blood pouring forth. That is the way with amputations. They just don't heal up like a wish. The other sister cut off her heel but the blood told as blood will. The prince was getting tired. He began to feel like a shoe salesman. But he gave it one last try. This time Cinderella fit into the shoe like a love letter into its envelope. At the wedding ceremony the two sisters came to curry favor and the white dove pecked their eyes out. Two hollow spots were left like soup spoons. Cinderella and the prince lived, they say, happily ever after, like two dolls in a museum case never bothered by diapers or dust, never arguing over the timing of an egg, never telling the same story twice, never getting a middle-aged spread, their darling smiles pasted on for eternity. Regular Bobbsey Twins. That story. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jim on June 29, 2005, 12:40:23 PM Man...
...Say the joke again, and I might get it. :-\ Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Where is Hassan Nasrallah ? on June 29, 2005, 05:50:56 PM i think i'm the least poetic guy in the world.
i dont know any poems. i dont think poems are cool. i despise poems. yeah well, at least i will never be an emo kid :) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on June 29, 2005, 06:23:00 PM Man... ...Say the joke again, and I might get it.? :-\ Nah. I don't really clare for doing things thrice... :D i dont think poems are cool. i despise poems. Then why don't you stay the fuck out of this thread? yeah well, at least i will never be an emo kid :) What you consider to be an unsavory archetype would be altogether more desirable than your own personal umbrage. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Where is Hassan Nasrallah ? on June 30, 2005, 08:07:05 AM Man... ...Say the joke again, and I might get it.? :-\ Nah. I don't really clare for doing things thrice... :D i dont think poems are cool. i despise poems. Then why don't you stay the fuck out of this thread? yeah well, at least i will never be an emo kid :) What you consider to be an unsavory archetype would be altogether more desirable than your own personal umbrage. you find me desirable ? i wish i liked poems but i don't. i came in this thread to see what was so great about that. that's called curiosity : Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Sakib on June 30, 2005, 12:26:03 PM im not really a poetic dude
but highway man is a fun poem Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on July 02, 2005, 12:19:06 PM A confessional facial expression (Dictator?s Reflections)
Trying to explain what argument is, I fall into my own fallacy; can?t see What they mean as they argue too. They see me, the adversary, stubborn. To me their immovable stance is born From luxury of wanting to take not give, Yet I strive to provide and be permissive. Fallen, not taking, contradicting self?s go, I stumble over the me they see without woe. --Khalida Qattash-- Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on July 05, 2005, 03:20:41 PM THE MOON
by: Sappho HE stars about the lovely moon Fade back and vanish very soon, When, round and full, her silver face Swims into sight, and lights all space. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Tied-Up on July 05, 2005, 05:45:53 PM Here is one of my favorite poems:
The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner From my mother's sleep I fell into the State, And I hunched in its belly till my wet fur froze. Six miles from earth, loosed from its dream of life, I woke to black flak and the nightmare fighters. When I died they washed me out of the turret with a hose. ~Randall Jarrell Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: August 18th on July 06, 2005, 02:45:46 PM THE MOON by: Sappho HE stars about the lovely moon Fade back and vanish very soon, When, round and full, her silver face Swims into sight, and lights all space. i liked that one. :) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jessica on July 06, 2005, 06:46:22 PM Sir Walter Scott
From Canto Sixth, XXII. previous With war and wonder all on flame, To Roslin's bowers young Harold came, Where, by sweet glen and greenwood tree, He learn'd a milder minstrelsy; Yet something of the Northern spell Mix'd with the softer numbers well. XXIII Harold O listen, listen, ladies gay! No haughty feat of arms I tell; Soft is the note, and sad the lay, That mourns the lovely Rosabelle. ?"Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew! And gentle ladye, deign to stay! Rest thee in Castle Ravensheuch, Nor tempt the stormy firth to-day. "The blackening wave is edg'd with white: To inch and rock the sea-mews fly; The fishers have heard the Water-Sprite, Whose screams forebode that wreck is nigh. "Last night the gifted Seer did view A wet shroud swathed round ladye gay; Then stay thee, Fair, in Ravensheuch: Why cross the gloomy firth today?" " 'Tis not because Lord Lindesay's heir To-night at Roslin leads the ball, But that my ladye-mother there Sits lonely in her castle-hall. " 'Tis not because the ring they ride, And Lindesay at the ring rides well, But that my sire the wine will chide, If 'tis not fill'd by Rosabelle." O'er Roslin all that dreary night A wondrous blaze was seen to gleam; 'Twas broader than the watch-fire's light, And redder than the bright moonbeam. It glar'd on Roslin's castled rock, It ruddied all the copse wood glen; 'Twas seen from Dryden's groves of oak And seen from cavern'd Hawthorn-den. Seem'd all on fire that chapel proud, Where Roslin's chiefs uncoffin'd lie, Each Baron, for a sable shroud, Sheath'd in his iron panoply. Seem'd all on fire within, around, Deep sacristy and altar s pale; Shone every plllar foliage bound, And glimmer'd all the dead men's mail. Blaz'd battlement and pinnet high, Blaz'd every rose-carved buttress fair? So still they blaze when fate is nigh The lordly line of high St. Clair. There are twenty of Roslin's barons bold Lie buried within that proud chapelle; Each one the holy vault doth hold? But the sea holds lovely Rosabelle! And each St. Clair was buried there, With candle, with book, and with knell; But the sea-caves rung, and the wild winds sung The dirge of lovely Rosabelle. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jessica on July 08, 2005, 08:49:46 AM A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM
by Edgar Allan Poe 1827 Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow- You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand- How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep?while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream? THE END Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Tied-Up on July 09, 2005, 12:44:06 AM I don't need a friend, I need to mend so far away
So come sit by the fire and play a while, but you can't stay too long It aches in every bone, I'll die alone, but not for pleasure I see my heart explode, it's been eroded by the weather here If you want me hold me back ~Shaun Morgan Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Prometheus on July 09, 2005, 02:40:45 PM As Days Flew By
by Peng The very first time I saw you, Was special how we met. You took me by complete surprise. I knew my heart was set. As days flew by, we talked again, But you never seemed to care. I tried my best to help you out, By a favor here, or a favor there. Although I made a fast approach, Our friendship grew and grew. I realized how deep I cared, But the feeling I felt was new. In time I became attached to you. From a hug, I wouldn't let go. I soon saw how close we were, And the feeling was good to know. For you, I wrote sweet letters and songs. You were on my mind all day. The thought of sleeping was nowhere near, Unless I knew you were okay. It hit me then, what I was in - A unique and precious love. For the person I said was only mine, Was an angel sent from above. The minutes without you turned into days, And the seconds with you flew fast. I could only wish to see you more, And make each moment last. The times I spent with you, Were what made my heart complete. I knew one thing for sure, Without you, my future was obsolete. And now, we love just the same, As it doubles day by day. I stare deep into your precious eyes, Yet I'm still speechless to what I should say. With you, I'm in a whole new world. You bring out the best in me. It's hard to picture you not there, When you taught me who to be. Yes, the road ahead gets hard, When things may only seem rough. But because you and I try so much, We'll stay strong and get by tough. Though problems may lie ahead someday, And either of us could be right; I promise to always be by your side, And I promise my heart, so hold it tight. And so, each night, beside my bed, When there's only bright stars to see; I pray that we may never give up, And will always remain you and me. well this one has sort of hit a chord with me as of late....... Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Sakib on July 10, 2005, 12:22:23 PM half caste by John Agard is a gr8 poem
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on July 11, 2005, 07:19:55 PM half caste by John Agard is a gr8 poem Try posting it then. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on July 11, 2005, 10:22:23 PM "Peace" - James Kavanaugh
In a complex and often confusing world When life's details Get in the way of living And mounting worries Crowd out simple beauty Of snow and silence Fresh water and flowers When tragedy strikes without warning And suffering arrives unannounced Then most of all We must cling to what is truly beautiful Children, love, laughter, dreams Wisdom, wonder, all that friendship means Rearranging priorities, and taking time To discover what is alien What is really mine 'Tis then confusion softens, storms cease 'Tis then decends the gift of private peace May such peace surround our lives And fill our space May peace transform our hearts And thus our race. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: D on July 11, 2005, 10:33:11 PM My personal favorite is Lord Byron
TO ANNE? ?BY LORD BYRON: ? ? Oh, Anne, your offences to me have been grievous: I thought from my wrath no atonement could save you; But Woman is made to command and deceive us-- I look'd in your face, and I almost forgave you. I vow'd I could ne'er for a moment respect you, Yet thought that a day's separation was long; When we met, I determined again to suspect you-- Your smile soon convinced me _suspicion_ was wrong. I swore, in a transport of young indignation, With fervent contempt evermore to disdain you: I saw you--my _anger_ became _admiration_; And now, all my wish, all my hope's to regain you. With beauty like yours, oh, how vain the contention! Thus lowly I sue for forgiveness before you;-- At once to conclude such a fruitless dissension, Be false, my sweet Anne, when I cease to adore you! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on July 12, 2005, 03:16:54 AM "Laughing Down Lonely Canyons" - James Kavanaugh
Fear corrodes my dreams tonight and mist has greyed my hills Mountains seem too tall to climb, December winds are chill There's no comfort on the earth, I am a child abandoned Till I feel your hand in mine And laugh down lonely canyons Snow has bent the trees in grief, my summer dreams are dead Flowers are but ghostly stalks, the clouds drift dull as lead There's no solace in the sky, I am a child abandoned Till we chase the dancing moon And laugh down lonely canyons Birds have all gone south too soon and frogs refuse to sing Deer lie hidden in the woods, the trout asleep till spring There's no wisdom in the wind, I am a child abandoned Till we race across the fields And laugh down lonely canyons Darkness comes too soon tonight, the trees are silent scars Rivers rage against the rocks and snow conceals the stars There's no music in the air, I am a child abandoned Till I feel my hand in yours And laugh down lonely canyons Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on August 02, 2005, 12:56:36 PM Get Drunk
Always be drunk. That's it! The great imperative! In order not to feel Time's horrid fardel bruise your shoulders, grinding you into the earth, Get drunk and stay that way. On what? On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever. But get drunk. And if you sometimes happen to wake up on the porches of a palace, in the green grass of a ditch, in the dismal loneliness of your own room, your drunkenness gone or disappearing, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, ask everything that flees, everything that groans or rolls or sings, everything that speaks, ask what time it is; and the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock will answer you: "Time to get drunk! Don't be martyred slaves of Time, Get drunk! Stay drunk! On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!" --Charles Baudelaire-- Not sure if that's the proper version or not... Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Vicious Wishes on August 02, 2005, 06:42:14 PM This is the way the world will end
This is the way the world will end This is the way the world will end Not with a bang but with a wimper Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on August 11, 2005, 03:54:50 AM Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872?1906)
Sympathy I know what the caged bird feels, alas! ? ?When the sun is bright on the upland slopes; When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass, And the river flows like a stream of glass; ? ?When the first bird sings and the first bud opes, And the faint perfume from its chalice steals? I know what the caged bird feels! I know why the caged bird beats his wing ? ?Till its blood is red on the cruel bars; For he must fly back to his perch and cling When he fain would be on the bough a-swing; ? ?And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars And they pulse again with a keener sting? I know why he beats his wing! I know why the caged bird sings, ah me, ? ?When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,? When he beats his bars and he would be free; It is not a carol of joy or glee, ? ?But a prayer that he sends from his heart's deep core, But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings? I know why the caged bird sings! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jessica on August 11, 2005, 07:10:02 AM This last one made me cry Journey, it's beautiful and meaningful to me.
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on August 11, 2005, 06:07:06 PM This last one made me cry Journey, it's beautiful and meaningful to me. It's one of my favorites, and it means a lot to me also. Ben Jonson (1572?1637) The Hourglass Consider this small dust here running in the glass, By atoms moved; Could you believe that this the body was Of one that loved? And in his mistress' flame, playing like a fly, Turned to cinders by her eye: Yes; and in death, as life, unblessed, To have it expressed, Even ashes of lovers find no rest. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on August 22, 2005, 01:40:23 AM Christina Georgina Rossetti
Echo Come to me in the silence of the night; Come in the speaking silence of a dream; Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright As sunlight on a stream; Come back in tears, O memory of hope, love of finished years. O dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter-sweet, Whose wakening should have been in Paradise, Where souls brim-full of love abide and meet; Where thirsting longing eyes Watch the slow door That opening, letting in, lets out no more. Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death; Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on August 22, 2005, 11:33:24 PM Eye halve a spelling chequer. It came with my pea sea.
It plainly marques four my revue miss steaks eye kin knot sea. Eye strike a key and type a word and weight four it two say Weather eye am wrong oar write. It shows me strait a weigh. As soon as a mist ache is maid. It nose bee fore two long And eye can put the error rite. Its rarely ever wrong. Eye have run this poem threw it. I am shore your pleased two no. Its letter perfect in it's weight. My chequer tolled me sew. Sauce Unknown :) (Reader's Digest.) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Prometheus on August 23, 2005, 12:53:02 AM Eye halve a spelling chequer. It came with my pea sea. It plainly marques four my revue miss steaks eye kin knot sea. Eye strike a key and type a word and weight four it two say Weather eye am wrong oar write. It shows me strait a weigh. As soon as a mist ache is maid. It nose bee fore two long And eye can put the error rite. Its rarely ever wrong. Eye have run this poem threw it. I am shore your pleased two no. Its letter perfect in it's weight. My chequer tolled me sew. Sauce Unknown :) (Reader's Digest.) my lover has returned.........ohh how i have missed you so......... Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on August 28, 2005, 12:37:47 AM PROMETHEUS AMID HURRICANE AND EARTHQUAKE (from "Prometheus Bound")
by: Aeschylus ARTH is rocking in space! And the thunders crash up with a roar upon roar, And the eddying lightnings flash fire in my face, And the whirlwinds are whirling the dust round and round-- And the blasts of the winds universal leap free And blow each other upon each, with a passion of sound, And ?ther goes mingling in storm with the sea! Such a curse on my head, in a manifest dread, From the hand of your Zeus has been hurtled along! O my mother's fair glory! O ?ther, enringing All eyes with the sweet common light of thy bringing, Dost see how I suffer this wrong? Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on August 29, 2005, 05:24:06 AM BLANK BEAUTY
Beautiful blank pages kiss our imaginations with backgrounds that demand precision. Our black letters cross on tightrope lines, curving without wavering across deep, invisible currents. These beautiful blank pages are promises of our reflections. Our gentlest strokes of darkness upon light. - Writer's Journal Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jessica on August 29, 2005, 08:40:26 AM Karma
John Llewellyn I remember so many things and forget more than I recall. The frenzied crowd hydra-headed reminds me of the colosseum. Intake of breath, the roar of the lion's passion unleashed. The hot sun, cohesive crowd that other beast of appetites insatiable. I remember mobs at Munich and other crowds. Puppets of power men in the mass impelled and caught insanity of the hour. Christ on the cross martyrs burning and Jews bleeding; always the mob derisory. A blade of grass one of many fortifies me. A mountain peak restores my hope when I recall the strange story of its beginning and final glory. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Miss-Aussie on August 30, 2005, 03:11:17 AM This is a poem that i wrote about 3 months ago !!! : ok: Swallowed in the depths of unmoving depression My soul lies in a dark pit of aggression, My spirit has passed and I don?t care if I die For I wish not another day would go by, I cannot overcome my feeling of sorrow For I am in a deep dark hole where there is no tomorrow, Happiness never comes and emotional torture never goes Silence is my way, so not a single heart or soul knows, My thoughts cannot be pushed aside I know this for 5 years I have tried, It haunts it tortures My soul is in flames my body it scorches, Words cannot describe the darkness I feel For I died along time ago and happiness is not real, My life is a dead end to which I can not turn around Darkness made sure I kept falling to the ground, I crave love I pray for happiness But I have fallen to far? I have plunged into deapness, I hope that one day I will live again Darkness behind me and my new life will begin Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Miss-Aussie on August 30, 2005, 03:16:11 AM Another Poem written by me
What am I to do with a broken heart As I remember your touch I fall apart, You held me close and every inch of my body would melt Words can?t describe the love I felt, Together we were one The love I feel for you cannot be undone, Our body?s were close the heat was rising As I recall those moments I find myself crying, Your hands would caress every sensitive part of my being I thought you loved me turns out I was just dreaming Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Miss-Aussie on August 30, 2005, 03:18:39 AM Another poem written by me
I want to feel your soft lips caress my skin, The heat will rise and pleasure will begin. You will lay me on the bed, and press your body hard to mine, Look deep into my eyes and my soul will shine. My clothes will come off, and I will long for your touch, I will be flying high and my eye?s misty I wont see much. As your hands slowly creep down from the tip of my breast, You admire my features you like my eye?s the best. You will suck and you will lick, Feeling the tense feeling deep down in your dick. One by one your clothes will be thrown, The best feeling you have ever known. Playing with me softly and holding me close, We are feeling ecstasy and want another dose. You will torture and you will tease, When I open up to you, you get down on your knee?s. Body ?s will be close and hearts will be thumping, I guide you in and the pressure is pumping. Hard long strokes will make me shake and my body will pulse, As we rise to the high heavens we will both convulse. Sheets are tangled and we are sweaty, We are both wanting to go again already. Together We will lay in each others embrace I will lay soft kisses on your face. We fall asleep not long after, We are so happy our hearts are filled with laughter. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Miss-Aussie on August 30, 2005, 03:21:51 AM Another poem by me :hihi:
In the depths of misery I lay Till happiness meets me some day, I am suffocating in a hole that is impossible to exit I contemplate ending my life to finish it, All hope is gone my soul is dark There is no light in my eyes not even a spark, My world is caving down around me, I long to spread my wings and be free, But I drown in my tears I am weighed down by my insecurity and my fears, When I fall no one is there I wont reveille my pain I wont dare, I will have hope and I will stay strong But I cant keep it up for long Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on August 31, 2005, 05:52:11 AM Great poems Miss-Aussie! Thanks for posting them Mel.
- E. E. Cummings "I Carry Your Heart" I carry your heart with me(I carry it in my heart)I am never without it(anywhere I go you go,my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing,my darling) I fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)I want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true) and you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart I carry your heart(I carry it in my heart) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jessica on August 31, 2005, 06:22:11 AM Don't Cry (Alternate Lyrics) Lyrics Artist: Guns N' Roses Album: Use Your Illusion II If we could see tomorrow What of your plans No one can live in sorrow Ask all your friends Times that you took in stride, their Back in demand I was the one who's washing Blood of your hands Don't you cry tonight I still love you baby Don't you cry tonight Don't you cry tonight There's a heaven above you baby And don't you cry tonight I know the things you wanted They're not what you have With all the people talkin' It's driving you mad If I was standing by you How would you feel? Knowing your love's decided And all love is real Baby Don't you cry tonight I still love you baby Don't you cry tonight Don't you cry tonight There's a heaven above you baby And don't you cry tonight I thought I could live in your world As years all went by With all the voices I've heard Something has died And when you're in need of someone My heart won't deny you So many seems so lonely With no one left to cry to baby And don't you cry tonight Don't you cry tonight Don't you cry tonight There's a heaven above you baby And don't you cry tonight Don't you ever cry Don't you cry tonight, baby, maybe, someday Don't you cry tonight Don't you ever cry Don't you cry Tonight (fades away) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Queen of Everything on August 31, 2005, 07:38:13 PM Theres a verse Play written by Christopher Fry - Called The Boy With A Cart - It is really quiet Beautiful... :love: :love:
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on September 22, 2005, 05:30:52 PM "Hug O' War"
by Shel Silverstein I will not play at tug o' war. I'd rather play at hug o' war, Where everyone hugs Instead of tugs, Where everyone giggles And rolls on the rug, Where everyone kisses, And everyone grins, And everyone cuddles, And everyone wins. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Kitano on September 22, 2005, 05:36:32 PM The Lake Isle of Innisfree
by William Butler Yeats I Will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made: Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee, And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Dropping from the veils of the mourning to where the cricket sings; There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings. I will arise and go now, for always night and day I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore; While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey, I hear it in the deep heart's core. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Aava on October 04, 2005, 07:20:14 AM Suicide in the Trenches by Seigried Sassoon
I knew a simple soldier boy Who grinned at life in empty joy, Slept soundly through the lonesome dark, And whistled early with the lark. In winter trenches, cowed and glum With crumps and lice and lack of rum, He put a bullet through his brain. No one spoke of him again. You smug-faced crowds with kindling eye Who cheer when soldier lads march by, Sneak home and pray you'll never know The hell where youth and laughter go. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Carlos_f_Rose on October 04, 2005, 01:04:10 PM Roses are red Violets are blue I?m a schizophrenic And so am I. "and so AM I" Are you sure you didnt mean, and so are YOU?? Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on October 04, 2005, 06:11:02 PM Roses are red Violets are blue I?m a schizophrenic And so am I. "and so AM I" Are you sure you didnt mean,? and so are YOU?? No that's what he meant. It's a joke about schizophrenia: a rare mental illness. Technically, the joke is an error, because schizophrenia isn't the same as multiple personality disorder. "A Storm, Forever Momentary" - B.L. Pasterson And then summer bid farewell To the station. Taking off its cap, Thunder took as a souvenir A hundred blinding photos of night. A bunch of lilacs grew dim. At that Moment the thunder, gathering an armful Of lightning, attempted from the field To illuminate town hall. And when a wave of gloating Poured along the building's roof And, like charcoal lines in a sketch, A gate of rain crashed down, The abyss of consciousness began to flash: And so, it seemed, illumination Could reach even those corners of the mind Where it is now as light as day. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Carlos_f_Rose on October 05, 2005, 09:49:38 PM Roses are red Violets are blue I?m a schizophrenic And so am I. "and so AM I" Are you sure you didnt mean,? and so are YOU?? No that's what he meant. It's a joke about schizophrenia: a rare mental illness. Technically, the joke is an error, because schizophrenia isn't the same as multiple personality disorder. "A Storm, Forever Momentary" - B.L. Pasterson ? ? And then summer bid farewell To the station. Taking off its cap, Thunder took as a souvenir A hundred blinding photos of night. A bunch of lilacs grew dim. At that Moment the thunder, gathering an armful Of lightning, attempted from the field To illuminate town hall. And when a wave of gloating Poured along the building's roof And, like charcoal lines in a sketch, A gate of rain crashed down, The abyss of consciousness began to flash: And so, it seemed, illumination Could reach even those corners of the mind Where it is now as light as day. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on October 17, 2005, 02:19:11 AM Rita Dove - The Fish in the Stone
The fish in the stone would like to fall back into the sea. He is weary of analysis, the small predictable truths. He is weary of waiting in the open, his profile stamped by a white light. In the ocean the silence moves and moves and so much is unnecessary! Patient, he drifts until the moment comes to cast his skeletal blossom. The fish in the stone knows to fail is to do the living a favor. He knows why the ant engineers a gangster's funeral, garish and perfectly amber. He knows why the scientist in secret delight strokes the fern's voluptuous braille. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: AxlsMainMan on October 17, 2005, 12:19:23 PM PENELOPE'S DESPAIR
Yannis Ritsos Not that she didn't recognize him in the fireside light; nor was it the beggar's rags, the disguise; no: transparent signs - the scarred knee, the sturdiness, the craftiness in the eye. Startled, leaning he back against the wall, she sought some justification, a short reprieve from having to respond, and be betrayed. Were twenty years wasted for him then? Twenty years of dreams and anticipation, for this wretch, these white whiskers soaked in blood? She sank mute onto a chair, slowly she gazed at the slaughtered suitors on the floor, as if seeing her own muffled aspirations. And she uttered, "Welcome," heeding her own strange and distant voice. In the corner her loom veiled the ceiling in trelliswork shadows; and those birds, woven against green foliange in striking red year, suddenly turned black and gray on this homecoming night, hovering in the unbroken sky of her final perseverance. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on October 28, 2005, 02:16:11 AM "I Have Loved Hours at Sea"
by Sara Teasdale I have loved hours at sea, gray cities, The fragile secret of a flower, Music, the making of a poem That gave me heaven for an hour; First stars above a snowy hill, Voices of people kindly and wise, And the great look of love, long hidden, Found at last in meeting eyes. I have loved much and been loved deeply -- Oh when my spirit's fire burns low, Leave me the darkness and the stillness, I shall be tired and glad to go. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Sakib on October 28, 2005, 11:35:59 AM Half Caste by John Agard
Excuse me standing on one leg I'm half-caste Explain yuself wha yu mean when yu say half-caste yu mean when picasso mix red an green is a half-caste canvas/ explain yuself wha yu mean when yu say half-caste yu mean when light an shadow mix in de sky is a half-caste weather/ well in dat case england weather nearly always half-caste in fact some o dem cloud half-caste till dem overcast so spiteful dem dont want de sun pass ah rass/ explain yuself wha yu mean when yu say half-caste yu mean tchaikovsky sit down at dah piano an mix a black key wid a white key is a half-caste symphony/ Explain yuself wha yu mean Ah listening to yu wid de keen half of mih ear Ah lookin at yu wid de keen half of mih eye and when I'm introduced to yu I'm sure you'll understand why I offer yu half-a-hand an when I sleep at night I close half-a-eye consequently when I dream I dream half-a-dream an when moon begin to glow I half-caste human being cast half-a-shadow but yu must come back tomorrow wid de whole of yu eye an de whole of yu ear an de whole of yu mind an I will tell yu de other half of my story Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Carlos_f_Rose on October 31, 2005, 09:46:22 AM Don't Cry (Alternate Lyrics) Lyrics Artist: Guns N' Roses Album: Use Your Illusion II If we could see tomorrow What of your plans No one can live in sorrow Ask all your friends Times that you took in stride, their Back in demand I was the one who's washing Blood of your hands Don't you cry tonight I still love you baby Don't you cry tonight Don't you cry tonight There's a heaven above you baby And don't you cry tonight I know the things you wanted They're not what you have With all the people talkin' It's driving you mad If I was standing by you How would you feel? Knowing your love's decided And all love is real Baby Don't you cry tonight I still love you baby Don't you cry tonight Don't you cry tonight There's a heaven above you baby And don't you cry tonight I thought I could live in your world As years all went by With all the voices I've heard Something has died And when you're in need of someone My heart won't deny you So many seems so lonely With no one left to cry to baby And don't you cry tonight Don't you cry tonight Don't you cry tonight There's a heaven above you baby And don't you cry tonight Don't you ever cry Don't you cry tonight, baby, maybe, someday Don't you cry tonight Don't you ever cry Don't you cry Tonight (fades away) mmm, I never saw it like a poem :D Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on November 12, 2005, 12:05:45 AM Grey Hours : Naples
There are some hours when I seem so indifferent; all things fade To an indifferent greyness, like that grey of the sky; Always at evening-ends, on grey days; and I know not why, But life, and art, and love, and death, are the shade of a shade. Then, in those hours, I hear old voices murmur aloud, And memory forgoes desire, too weary at heart for regret; Dreams come with beckoning fingers, and I forget to forget; The world as a cloud drifts by, or I drift by as a cloud. --Arthur Symons-- Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jagged Little Pill on December 28, 2005, 11:06:01 PM sorry to drag this thread up but I just read a poem and I really like it and I want to post it here.
The Invitation. ? It doesnt interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your hearts longing. ? It doesnt interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking a fool for love, for your dreams, for the adventure of being alive. ? It doesnt interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by lifes betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. ? I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human. ? It doesnt interest me if the story you are telling is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul, if you can be faithless and therefore be trustworthy. ? I want to know if you can see beauty, even when its not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presense. ? I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon " Yes!" ? It doesnt interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children. ? It doesnt interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back. ? It doesnt interest me what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away. ? I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments. ? - Oriah Mountain Dreamer, Indian Elder Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on January 18, 2006, 06:05:08 PM 'Mouettes' by Jacques LACARRI?RE
Les mouettes heurtent le ciel comme un miroir O? jamais elles ne se reconnaissent. Leur v?ritable image erre dans la l?gende Entre le sable humide et la mer ? venir. Les mouettes hantent le ciel comme un remords D'ouate et de cendres Elles, pens?es sans repos, d?sirs jamais en place, Vou?es ? questionner sans tr?ve Leur s?ur incompr?hensible : l'?cume. In English by babelfish: GULLS The gulls run up against the sky as a mirror Where never they are not recognized. Their true image wanders in the legend Between wet sand and the sea to come. The gulls haunt the sky like a remorse Of wadding and ashes They, thought without rest, desires never in place, Dedicated to question without treve Their incomprehensible sister: the scum(?) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Carlos_f_Rose on January 18, 2006, 07:46:25 PM Guys this is a speech, which is like a poem for me because I find it extremely beautiful and tender I hope you like it -- if you read it-- take care your Bolivian friend Carlitos.
Charles Chaplin... Look Up Hannah from the film The great Dictator. Hope... I'm sorry but I don't want to be an Emperor - that's not my business - I don't want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone if possible, Jew, gentile, black man, white. We all want to help one another, human beings are like that. We all want to live by each other's happiness, not by each other's misery. We don't want to hate and despise one another. In this world there is room for everyone and the earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful. But we have lost the way. Greed has poisoned men's souls - has barricaded the world with hate; has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed but we have shut ourselves in: machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical, our cleverness hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little: More than machinery we need humanity; More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost. The aeroplane and the radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions cries out for the goodness in men, cries out for universal brotherhood for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world, millions of despairing men, women and little children, victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people. To those who can hear me I say "Do not despair". The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress: the hate of men will pass and dictators die and the power they took from the people, will return to the people and so long as men die [now] liberty will never perish... Soldiers - don't give yourselves to brutes, men who despise you and enslave you - who regiment your lives, tell you what to do, what to think and what to feel, who drill you, diet you, treat you as cattle, as cannon fodder. Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men, machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts. You are not machines. You are not cattle. You are men. You have the love of humanity in your hearts. You don't hate - only the unloved hate. Only the unloved and the unnatural. Soldiers - don't fight for slavery, fight for liberty. In the seventeenth chapter of Saint Luke it is written " the kingdom of God is within man " - not one man, nor a group of men - but in all men - in you, the people. You the people have the power, the power to create machines, the power to create happiness. You the people have the power to make life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure. Then in the name of democracy let's use that power - let us all unite. Let us fight for a new world, a decent world that will give men a chance to work, that will give you the future and old age and security. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power, but they lie. They do not fulfil their promise, they never will. Dictators free themselves but they enslave the people. Now let us fight to fulfil that promise. Let us fight to free the world, to do away with national barriers, do away with greed, with hate and intolerance. Let us fight for a world of reason, a world where science and progress will lead to all men's happiness. Soldiers - in the name of democracy, let us all unite! Look up! Look up! The clouds are lifting - the sun is breaking through. We are coming out of the darkness into the light. We are coming into a new world. A kind new world where men will rise above their hate and brutality. The soul of man has been given wings - and at last he is beginning to fly. He is flying into the rainbow - into the light of hope - into the future, that glorious future that belongs to you, to me and to all of us. Look up. Look up." Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: josh85 on January 18, 2006, 09:32:32 PM mine's gotta be 'if' by rudyard kippling, i don't have it on me, havn't memorized it and can't be arsed to look it up on the net but i'll post it when i've found my book. it's truely powerfull.
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jagged Little Pill on January 19, 2006, 03:13:58 AM mine's gotta be 'if' by rudyard kippling, i don't have it on me, havn't memorized it and can't be arsed to look it up on the net but i'll post it when i've found my book. it's truely powerfull. I looked it up, is this it? If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you But make allowance for their doubting too, If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream--and not make dreams your master, If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much, If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son! --Rudyard Kipling Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on January 19, 2006, 07:12:28 PM "If" If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream - and not make dreams your master, If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son! --Rudyard Kipling-- Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Aava on February 01, 2006, 06:45:23 PM I Love You (But You?re Green) by Pete Doherty
I was a troubled teen Who put an advert in a magazine To the annoyance of my imaginary lover She questioned my integrity And this is what she said to me She said, you, you're green You don't know what love means Let me tell you It tickles you pink But it likes to hear you scream Fire and damnation, lamentations For the likes of you When she goes, just let her go If she says she's going Just make sure she goes Make sure she goes I was a troubled teen Untroubled only in my daydreams To the annoyance of someone or others They doubted my philosophy And this is what they said to me You, you'll soon be up where you belong But it's only blood from broken hearts And write the words to every song And there's a beatific smile For the fawners and the servants But I, only I I can see the serpent You, you're green You don't know what love means Let me tell you It tickles you pink Everybody likes to hear you scream Fire and damnation, lamentations For the likes of you When she goes, just let her go If she says she's going Just make sure she goes "Pete Doherty's passion for poetry is often neglected in the tabloid furor over troubles with The Libertines and his struggle with a destructive drug addiction. But the famed Babyshambles' frontman is also a published poet. Doherty's poetry won him the opportunity to work with The British Council in Russia, aged just 16. His work can be found in the underground publications 'Rising Poets' and 'Full Moon Empty Sports Bag'." Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jim on February 01, 2006, 06:49:00 PM Wow.
Okay, so it borders on cliche at times, but for Pete Doherty I'm really impressed. : ok: Is that one of the published poems then, or is it from a song? Have you got any other poems of his? You got me curious... Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Aava on February 01, 2006, 07:14:50 PM It?s a song.
Here?s few of my faves (also songs). Albion Down in Albion They're black and blue But we don't talk about that Are you from 'round here? How do you do? I'd like to talk about that Talk over Gin in teacups And leaves on the lawn Violence at bus stops And the pale thin girl with eyes forlorn Gin in teacups And leaves on the lawn Violence in dole queues And the pale thin girl behind the checkout If you're looking for a cheap sort Set in false anticipation Ill be waiting in the photo booth At the underground station So come away, won't you come away We can go to Deptford, Catford, Walford, Digbeth, Mansfield Anywhere in Albion Yellowing classics And canons at dawn coffee wallows and pith helmets and an English sun New bought classics And canons at dawn Terrible warlords, good warlords and an English song But if you're looking for a cheap sort Glint with perspiration There's a four-mile queue Outside the disused power station Ah come away, say you'll come away We're going to... Semford, Woville, Newcastle Anywhere If you're looking for a cheap tart Glint with perspiration Theres a five mile queue Outside the dissused power station Now come away, won't you come away We're going to... Rexham,Oldham,.. Bristol Anywhere in Albion Back From The Dead I heard it said You had come back from the dead You were playing so fine Scooping up the soul of the wine Now courage my boy When they look you in the eye Try not to look too scummy If you need some money And you want their money Now I know... This ain't no happy place to be You know they're nice around me You know they're nice about me And everyone agrees About what's won in a year from here, my friend Promises, promises... You've heard it all before But nobody ever Ever get me more... Oh yes courage my boy When you look them in the eye That they laugh if they try to be funny All along... Belong You're still my son And coin my words Oh it's absurd how you get so Very old, man Typical tan Took me in hand To ... ... hour Banged or bruised from Gang Of Gin ... In this industry of fools Musclemen and ghouls If you're not a puppet or a muppet Then you might as well call it a day-ayay The truth here gets distorted The wall scrapings get snorted I'm welcome back if I give up crack But you gave me my first pipe anyway ... Fuck Forever Its one and the same, one and the same, So whats the use between death and glory? How can you choose between death and glory? Happy endings, no, they never bored me Happy endings, they still don't bore me But they, they have a way They have a way to make you pay And to make you toe the line Sever the ties Because I'm so clever But clever ain't wise Fuck forever If you don't mind Fuck forever? If you dont mind, dont mind Whats the use between death and glory? I cant tell between death and glory? New labour and Tory Purgatory and no happy families Its one and the same, one and the same No, its not the same Its not supposed to be the same You know about that way The way they make you pay And the way they make you toe the line I've severed my ties You're so clever, you're so clever But you're not very nice So fuck forever If you don't mind I'm stuck forever In your mind, your mind But have you heard about that way, To make you feel I should soon make you pay And to make you toe the line, line I Sever my ties Oh well i never Sever the ties And fuck forever If you don't mind See i'm stuck forever Oh i'm stuck in your mind, your mind I never played this on the radio They never played this on the radio Do You Know Me (I Don't Think So) Do you know me? I don't think so! You romanticize the dark and gloomy past Trying to escape from the underclass You darkened the bright and beautiful day You're breaking my heart in every way And tell me everything is dandy and fine You're no friend of mine I took you in and you stole from me But you still got everything I need You're walking so tall, you're looking so mean You're walking so tall, you're looking so mean But you tell me everything is dandy and fine You're no friend of mine Do you know me? I don't think so! You romanticize the dark and gloomy past Trying to escape from the upper class You darkened the bright and beautiful day You're fucking up my head in every way And tell me everything's dandy and fine You're no friend of mine My Darling Clementine My darling Clementine, you know I love you My darling Clementine, you know I do I bless and curse the day I found you I wonder why I get lost in the wonderland around you But you're always welcome here I keep love handy, I keep it near And I take note of all of your witty reposts And I follow with the famous quotes and If i say I care, I really mean it She's got the money, and she She's moving on She's thinking on She's thinking on all the good advice Because there's always good advice The man with the golden arm rarely deals a joker But he kept two aside, just for you He burnt your fingers in the fire Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jim on February 01, 2006, 07:29:45 PM Is it a Libertines song then?
Maybe I might actually listen to it... Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Aava on February 01, 2006, 07:37:05 PM Nope, all Babyshambles. About Libs songs, i?m not sure which are Petes, which Carls and which they wrote together.
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jim on February 01, 2006, 07:38:52 PM Very encouraging.
As I say, I might actually listen to boths bands properly... I did always like Can't Stand Me Now. 8) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Aava on February 01, 2006, 07:48:01 PM As you have MySpace account (well, you don?t even need one to check them out...)
http://www.myspace.com/thelibs (Start with Up The Bracket) http://www.myspace.com/wearebabyshambles Now, ihave ruin almost every thread with this Libs/Babyshambles nonsense.. I?m talented!? :) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: AxlsMainMan on February 01, 2006, 08:22:42 PM Here is a poem by one of my favorite authors, Jim Carroll:
Love Story The penalty for desertion is death by firing squad. I'm saving you this trouble enclosed is a pistol. loaded with only one bullet. squeeze the trigger once perhaps nothing will happen. but squeeze it a second time... a third time... You see I know the games you love Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Aava on February 03, 2006, 12:05:36 PM Heres few poems of Peter, which later became a Libertine-songs.
Tomblands (this one he wrote while he was in prison at the first time) In the land of the gauching skiving sun There's bodies in the room, lad Never an honest day's work is done They call it the Tomblands No, they're never gonna get me no Never gonna get me no Fifteen holes in the dealer's chest Yo ho ho he was a mini martial man Social unrest Pieces of eight in the jukebox Oh, you know Didn't wanna be the one to tell you She was only 14 Sussed out your dirty sorded little scene No, they're never gonna get me no Never gonna get me no Music When the Lights Go Out Is it cruel or kind Not to speak my mind And to lie to you Rather than hurt you Well, I'll confess all of my sins After several large gins But still I'll hide from you Hide what's inside from you And alarm bells ring When you say your heart still sings When you're with me Oh darling, please forgive me But I no longer hear the music And all the memories of the pubs And the clubs and the drugs and the tubs We shared together Will stay with me forever But all the highs and the lows And the to?s and the fro?s They left me dizzy Oh won?t you please forgive me But I no longer hear the music Well I no longer hear the music when the lights go out Love goes cold in the shades of doubt The strange fate in my mind is all too clear Music when the lights come on The girl I thought I knew has gone And with her my heart it disappeared Well I no longer hear the music And all the memories of the fights and nights And the blue lights and all the kites We flew together I thought they'd fly forever And I no longer hear the music The Saga A problem, becomes a problem When you let down your friends When you let down the people When you let down yourself And only fools, vultures and undertakers Will have any time for you A problem, becomes a problem When you lie to your friends And you lie to your people And you lie to yourself And the truth's too harsh to comprehend You just pretend there isn't a problem I am a pimp and a slave I dig my bed you dig my bed I dig my grave And the truth's too harsh to comprehend You just pretend there isn't a problem No no, I ain't got a problem It's you with the problem! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Kujo on February 03, 2006, 01:59:24 PM If I am lost for a day; try and find me
But if I don't come back, then I won't look behind me All of the things that I thought were so easy Just got harder and harder each day December is the darkest and June is the light but this empty bedroom won't make anything right While out on the landing theres a friend I forgot to send home Who waits up for me all through the night I dreamed I was dying; as I so often do And when I awoke I was sure it was true I ran to the window; threw my head to the sky And said whoever is up there,please don't let me die But I can't live forever,I can't always be One day I'll be sand on a beach by a sea The pages keep turning, I'll mark off each day with a cross And I'll laugh about all that we've lost Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Aava on February 26, 2006, 06:49:26 AM Proverbs burn away the hard
Words unprotected from The fierce elements of history Every story has an ending Up and down the land Plots everywhere are defiant Too proud to recognise their Reliance on one and all the others Voices ruined the best stories And such are the choices that Muddle the tongue we follow The pre-set spontaneity of punchlines And sub-plots like myrmidons. By Peter Doherty from issue #11 of Full Moon Empty Sports Bag Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mandy. on February 26, 2006, 11:21:37 AM Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimm'd; And every fair from fair sometime declines, By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd; But thy eternal summer shall not fade Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st; Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st: So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, So long lives this, and this gives life to thee. By Shakespeare Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Aava on February 26, 2006, 03:50:45 PM TO THE BUTTERFLY IN THE MONASTRY
you little fucker what are you thinking? I saw you bright yellow in the smudged sunlight. Now the rain is here, so heavy and almost warm. I stand in the downpour strangely click my tongue in time to the thunder that rolls like drums around the forest thick mountains. where have you gone? You couldn't stand this torrent could you? you little fucker I hope you're alright. I'm safe and warm at least. Grey smoke filters through the thick foggy downpour dissipating, dispending loose coloured particles broken in the afternoon light By Pete Doherty from the Books Of Albion Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on March 05, 2006, 01:38:27 AM Absence
My cup is empty to-night, Cold and dry are its sides, Chilled by the wind from the open window. Empty and void, it sparkles white in the moonlight. The room is filled with the strange scent Of wistaria blossoms. They sway in the moon's radiance And tap against the wall. But the cup of my heart is still, And cold, and empty. When you come, it brims Red and trembling with blood, Heart's blood for your drinking; To fill your mouth with love And the bitter-sweet taste of a soul. From Sword Blades and Poppy Seeds By Amy Lowell Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on March 09, 2006, 12:12:26 AM EQUALITY by Maya Angelou
You declare you see me dimly through a glass which will not shine, though I stand before you boldly, trim in rank and making time. You do own to hear me faintly as a whisper out of range, while my drums beat out the message and the rhythms never change. Equality, and I will be free. Equality, and I will be free. You announce my ways are wanton, that I fly from man to man, but if I'm just a shadow to you, could you ever understand? We have lived a painful history, we know the shameful past, but I keep on marching forward, and you keep on coming last. Equality, and I will be free. Equality, and I will be free. Take the blinders from your vision, take the padding from your ears, and confess you've heard me crying, and admit you've seen my tears. Hear the tempo so compelling, hear the blood throb through my veins. Yes, my drums are beating nightly, and the rhythms never change. Equality, and I will be free. Equality, and I will be free. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on March 14, 2006, 09:41:35 PM To a Friend - Amy Lowell
I ask but one thing of you, only one, That always you will be my dream of you; That never shall I wake to find untrue All this I have believed and rested on, Forever vanished, like a vision gone Out into the night. Alas, how few There are who strike in us a chord we knew Existed, but so seldom heard its tone We tremble at the half-forgotten sound. The world is full of rude awakenings And heaven-born castles shattered to the ground, Yet still our human longing vainly clings To a belief in beauty through all wrongs. Stay your hand, and leave my heart its songs. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Aava on March 23, 2006, 05:37:09 PM Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.) God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade: Exit seraphim and Satan's men: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.) I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)" Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on March 23, 2006, 06:19:30 PM Mad Girl's Love Song by Sylvia Plath That's my favorite by her. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Aava on March 23, 2006, 06:24:56 PM Really?
I haven?t read too many of her poems yet. But so far that?s my fave too! This is nice too. "Mushrooms" Overnight, very Whitely, discreetly, Very quietly Our toes, our noses Take hold on the loam, Acquire the air. Nobody sees us, Stops us, betrays us; The small grains make room. Soft fists insist on Heaving the needles, The leafy bedding, Even the paving. Our hammers, our rams, Earless and eyeless, Perfectly voiceless, Widen the crannies, Shoulder through holes. We Diet on water, On crumbs of shadow, Bland-mannered, asking Little or nothing. So many of us! So many of us! We are shelves, we are Tables, we are meek, We are edible, Nudgers and shovers In spite of ourselves. Our kind multiplies: We shall by morning Inherit the earth. Our foot's in the door. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: 2NaFish on March 23, 2006, 07:50:25 PM The Thought Fox
I imagine this midnight moment's forest: Something else is alive Besides the clock's loneliness And this blank page where my fingers move. Through the window I see no star: Something more near Though deeper within darkness Is entering the loneliness: Cold, delicately as the dark snow, A fox's nose touches twig, leaf; Two eyes serve a movement, that now And again now, and now, and now Sets neat prints into the snow Between trees, and warily a lame Shadow lags by stump and in hollow Of a body that is bold to come Across clearings, an eye, A widening deepening greenness, Brilliantly, concentratedly, Coming about its own business Till, with sudden sharp hot stink of fox It enters the dark hole of the head. The window is starless still; the clock ticks, The page is printed. ? ? -- Ted Hughes wonderful little ditty about the nature of the creative process and a wonderful description of a 'eureka' moment from a real genius. everytime i read it i find something else i like. it starts off with poet struggling to write a poem and the end of the poem is just that. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on March 23, 2006, 10:58:55 PM Rainer Maria Rilke was a German poet. I recently discovered his translated works and this is one of my favorites:
Sunset Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors which it passes to a row of ancient trees. You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth. leaving you, not really belonging to either, not so hopelessly dark as that house that is silent, not so unswervingly given to the eternal as that thing that turns to a star each night and climbs-- leaving you (it is impossible to untangle the threads) your own life, timid and standing high and growing, so that, sometimes blocked in, sometimes reaching out, one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next, a star. I feel a powerful connection with these words - sometimes a stone, sometines a star. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Aava on March 24, 2006, 08:26:14 PM Mockingbird - Pete Doherty
"I won me a mockingbird, a mockingbird, a mockingbird I won me a mockingbird, when I gambled all night long Mockingbird was squaking bird, squaking bird, squaking bird Mockingbird was squaking bird, squaking all night long I tried for the money And I just wasn't able Had two more drinks and then I slipped under the table And she mocked me all night long Drinks served by a Chinese girl, Chinese girl, Chinese girl Drinks served by a Chinese girl, Chinese all night long She said "You can look my boy, see you can't touch You got a jack a five and a couple of threes I got the royal flush" She mocked me all night long I won me a mockingbird, a mockingbird, a mockingbird I won me a mockingbird, when I gambled all night long Mockingbird was squaking bird, squaking bird, squaking bird Mockingbird was squaking bird, squaking all night long I tried for the money And I just wasn't able Had two more drinks and then I slipped under the table And she mocked me all night long" Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on March 27, 2006, 09:36:18 PM John Keats: The Human Seasons
FOUR Seasons fill the measure of the year; There are four seasons in the mind of man: He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear Takes in all beauty with an easy span: He has his Summer, when luxuriously Spring?s honey?d cud of youthful thought he loves To ruminate, and by such dreaming high Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings He furleth close; contented so to look On mists in idleness - to let fair things Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook. He has his Winter too of pale misfeature, Or else he would forego his mortal nature. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on March 27, 2006, 09:37:24 PM Stanley Kunitz: The Quarrel
The word I spoke in anger weighs less than a parsley seed, but a road runs through it that leads to my grave, that bought-and-paid-for lot on a salt-sprayed hill in Truro where the scrub pines overlook the bay. Half-way I'm dead enough, strayed from my own nature and my fierce hold on life. If I could cry, I'd cry, but I'm too old to be anybody's child. Liebchen, with whom should I quarrel except in the hiss of love, that harsh, irregular flame? Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on March 28, 2006, 11:28:50 PM Langston Hughes
Fire-Caught The gold moth did not love him So, gorgeous, she flew away. But the gray moth circled the flame Until the break of day. And then, with wings like a dead desire, She fell, fire-caught, into the flame. Life is Fine I went down to the river, I set down on the bank. I tried to think but couldn't, So I jumped in and sank. I came up once and hollered! I came up twice and cried! If that water hadn't a-been so cold I might've sunk and died. But it was Cold in that water! It was cold! I took the elevator Sixteen floors above the ground. I thought about my baby And thought I would jump down. I stood there and I hollered! I stood there and I cried! If it hadn't a-been so high I might've jumped and died. But it was High up there! It was high! So since I'm still here livin', I guess I will live on. I could've died for love-- But for livin' I was born Though you may hear me holler, And you may see me cry-- I'll be dogged, sweet baby, If you gonna see me die. Life is fine! Fine as wine! Life is fine! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on March 29, 2006, 12:19:33 AM I like those poems by Langston Hughes, journey. He really bleeds his emotions into words.
YOUNG SEA by Carl Sandburg THE sea is never still. It pounds on the shore Restless as a young heart, Hunting. The sea speaks And only the stormy hearts Know what it says: It is the face of a rough mother speaking. The sea is young. One storm cleans all the hoar And loosens the age of it. I hear it laughing, reckless. They love the sea, Men who ride on it And know they will die Under the salt of it Let only the young come, Says the sea. Let them kiss my face And hear me. I am the last word And I tell Where storms and stars come from Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Queen of Everything on April 12, 2006, 10:17:27 AM Towards the New Millennium
Like a prosperous unknown land whose promise is a phoenix yet unborn in the ashes of an exile?s country, The new millennium is now at hand. Our reading of the signs can?t be wrong: Seabirds wheeling above, The frequency of flotsam, Dead fish and tamarisk bloom on slick-dappled seas, The odd discarded thong. I was loath to embark. Till as in sleep a rumble of multitudes from sinking shores like an ocean breaking over the dykes of remotest Australia fathoms deep down the map of known lands; A roar of blood rushing like a myriad drums rolling to mutiny under the whirr of great wings beating the night to soar above the blinding dark ? Had taught me fear of loneliness, Hope in tidal rps. For dreaming stills in the haven of harbours, Life stalls, Meanings bestowed, Unclear. Rational vision firms our captains? grasp of heaven?s message, Who now clearly bid the soul remember bliss once hers and long for home again. Wakeful, Our captains rasp precise instructions. Now and then, They scan the line below the sulphur-acid sky, Study the smoke formations, Speak words we marvel at as at a new-born sun. The rumble persists, But neither metaphor or simile will pin its shifting source. Shall I compose a charm to lull the now A song of praise to welcome the before? The captains, Like the philosopher of old, Just see two points in time?s compass, Both the same. Between, It frets and coils and bites its tail into spring from either?s hold. Dont you LOVE IT!! I am saying it on Friday at our eisteddfod- wish me luck!! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on April 19, 2006, 01:15:21 AM You, Darkness
You, darkness, that I come from I love you more than all the fires that fence in the world, for the fire makes a circle of light for everyone and then no one outside learns of you. But the darkness pulls in everything- shapes and fires, animals and myself, how easily it gathers them! - powers and people- and it is possible a great presence is moving near me. I have faith in nights. ~ Rainer Maria Rilke Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on May 04, 2006, 01:16:26 AM "The Dead" - Rupert Brooke
These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth. The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs, And sunset, and the colours of the earth. These had seen movement, and heard music; known Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended; Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat alone; Touched flowers and furs and cheeks. All this is ended. There are waters blown by changing winds to laughter And lit by the rich skies, all day. And after, Frost, with a gesture, stays the waves that dance And wandering loveliness. He leaves a white Unbroken glory, a gathered radiance, A width, a shining peace, under the night. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: TheRaven on May 04, 2006, 01:34:12 AM I'm sure no one would be surprised to hear that my favorite poem is a certain one written by Edgar Allen Poe.
The Raven Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.' Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore - For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating `'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door - Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; - This it is, and nothing more,' Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, `Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; - Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!' This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!' Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. `Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore - Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; - 'Tis the wind and nothing more!' Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door - Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door - Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, `Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven. Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore - Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door - Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as `Nevermore.' But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only, That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered - Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before - On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before.' Then the bird said, `Nevermore.' Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, `Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore - Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore Of "Never-nevermore."' But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore - What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking `Nevermore.' This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. `Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! - Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted - On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore - Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore - Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting - `Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted - nevermore! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: TheRaven on May 04, 2006, 01:46:35 AM And for the hell of it, here's one I wrote a while back. It's actually a song, I've rearranged it a little bit for this poetry thread:
Broken Grasp Been waiting for something Someone to set me free Been so long that I?ve been lonely It?s got the better part of me But my hands are razors Cutting everything in reach And I've got no time for answers When they haunt me in my sleep Mysteries of life evade me As you sneak into the sea But if I swim a million oceans Would it bring you closer to me I feel the conscience lurking And I mustn?t hesitate But if the answer eludes me Would it have been worth the wait I feel the time is ticking And I know it?s near an end But how can I lose a vision That must be heaven sent I feel the conscience lurking And I have no time to breathe But if I come up for air Would you in turn be there for me Silence is my friend In this world I?ve turned to greed But if I lie here bleeding Could you still be all I need Because I?ve got no time for visions In this world I?ve turned to greed It?s all a matter of conscience When you live beyond your means In a world of mischance troubles They seem to bring me down But who?s to pave the road When we?ve got no one in this town I feel the wrath of envy Over cost and over means But her face is like an angel And it seeps into my seams Oh my lover There is no cover Just pesticides of dreams Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on May 04, 2006, 01:50:39 AM ^ That's really nice.
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Drew on May 04, 2006, 07:34:26 AM And for the hell of it, here's one I wrote a while back. It's actually a song, I've rearranged it a little bit for this poetry thread: Broken Grasp Been waiting for something Someone to set me free Been so long that I?ve been lonely It?s got the better part of me But my hands are razors Cutting everything in reach And I've got no time for answers When they haunt me in my sleep Mysteries of life evade me As you sneak into the sea But if I swim a million oceans Would it bring you closer to me I feel the conscience lurking And I mustn?t hesitate But if the answer eludes me Would it have been worth the wait I feel the time is ticking And I know it?s near an end But how can I lose a vision That must be heaven sent I feel the conscience lurking And I have no time to breathe But if I come up for air Would you in turn be there for me Silence is my friend In this world I?ve turned to greed But if I lie here bleeding Could you still be all I need Because I?ve got no time for visions In this world I?ve turned to greed It?s all a matter of conscience When you live beyond your means In a world of mischance troubles They seem to bring me down But who?s to pave the road When we?ve got no one in this town I feel the wrath of envy Over cost and over means But her face is like an angel And it seeps into my seams Oh my lover There is no cover Just pesticides of dreams That is very good TheRaven!! Thanks for sharing it with us. Great job! : ok: :) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: 2NaFish on May 04, 2006, 08:23:06 AM The Mower
The mower stalled, twice; kneeling, I found A hedgehog jammed up against the blades, Killed. It had been in the long grass. I had seen it before, and even fed it, once. Now I had mauled its unobtrusive world Unmendably. Burial was no help: Next morning I got up and it did not. The first day after a death, the new absence Is always the same; we should be careful Of each other, we should be kind While there is still time. Philip Larkin Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on May 04, 2006, 09:28:21 PM "The Bait" by John Donne
Come live with me, and be my love, And we will some new pleasures prove Of golden sands, and crystal brooks, With silken lines, and silver hooks. There will the river whispering run Warm'd by thy eyes, more than the sun; And there the 'enamour'd fish will stay, Begging themselves they may betray. When thou wilt swim in that live bath, Each fish, which every channel hath, Will amorously to thee swim, Gladder to catch thee, than thou him. If thou, to be so seen, be'st loth, By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both, And if myself have leave to see, I need not their light having thee. Let others freeze with angling reeds, And cut their legs with shells and weeds, Or treacherously poor fish beset, With strangling snare, or windowy net. Let coarse bold hands from slimy nest The bedded fish in banks out-wrest; Or curious traitors, sleeve-silk flies, Bewitch poor fishes' wand'ring eyes. For thee, thou need'st no such deceit, For thou thyself art thine own bait: That fish, that is not catch'd thereby, Alas, is wiser far than I. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on May 04, 2006, 10:07:59 PM "Love in a Life"
Room after room, I hunt the house through We inhabit together. Heart, fear nothing, for, heart, thou shalt find her― Next time, herself!―not the trouble behind her Left in the curtain, the couch?s perfume! As she brushed it, the cornice-wreath blossomed anew : Yon looking-glass gleamed at the wave of her feather. Yet the day wears, And door succeeds door; I try the fresh fortune― Range the wide house from the wing to the centre. Still the same chance! She goes out as I enter. Spend my whole day in the quest,―who cares? But ?tis twilight, you see,―with such suites to explore, Such closets to search, such alcoves to importune! --Robert Browning-- Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jim on May 05, 2006, 10:16:19 AM On First Looking into Chapman's Homer
Much have I travell'd in the realms of gold, And many goodly states and kingdoms seen; Round many western islands have I been Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold. Oft of one wide expanse had I been told That deep-brow'd Homer ruled as his demesne; Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He star'd at the Pacific ? and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise ? Silent, upon a peak in Darien. John Keats Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Aava on May 05, 2006, 04:36:10 PM "Seasons in the Sun" by Jacques Brel & Rod McKuen
Goodbye to you, my trusted friend. We've known each other since we're nine or ten. Together we climbed hills or trees. Learned of love and ABC's, skinned our hearts and skinned our knees. Goodbye my friend, it's hard to die, when all the birds are singing in the sky, Now that the spring is in the air. Pretty girls are everywhere. When you see them I'll be there. We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun. But the hills that we climbed were just seasons out of time. Goodbye, Papa, please pray for me, I was the black sheep of the family. You tried to teach me right from wrong. Too much wine and too much song, wonder how I get along. Goodbye, Papa, it's hard to die when all the birds are singing in the sky, Now that the spring is in the air. Little children everywhere. When you see them I'll be there. We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun. But the wine and the song, like the seasons, all have gone. Goodbye, Michelle, my little one. You gave me love and helped me find the sun. And every time that I was down you would always come around and get my feet back on the ground. Goodbye, Michelle, it's hard to die when all the bird are singing in the sky, Now that the spring is in the air. With the flowers ev'rywhere. I whish that we could both be there. We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun. But the stars we could reach were just starfishs on the beach :'( Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Drew on May 06, 2006, 08:00:42 PM "Exile" written and performed by Enya
Cold as the northern winds in December mornings, Cold is the cry that rings from this far distant shore. Winter has come too late too close beside me. How can I chase away all these fears deep inside? I'll wait the signs to come. I'll find a way I will wait the time to come. I'll find a way home. My light shall be the moon and my path - the ocean. My guide the morning star as I sail home to you. I'll wait the signs to come. I'll find a way I will wait the time to come. I'll find a way home. Who then can warm my soul? Who can quell my passion? Out of these dreams - a boat I will sail home to you. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on May 07, 2006, 01:40:52 AM Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams, So various, so beautiful, so new, Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light, Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain; And we are here as on a darkling plain Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight, Where ignorant armies clash by night. from 'Dover Beach' by Matthew Arnold Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jim on May 23, 2006, 02:48:31 PM The Last Ride Together
I said then, dearest, since 'tis so, Since now at length my fate I know, Since nothing all my love avails, Since all, my life seem'd meant for, fails, Since this was written and needs must be-- My whole heart rises up to bless Your name in pride and thankfulness! Take back the hope you gave,--I claim Only a memory of the same, --And this beside, if you will not blame; Your leave for one more last ride with me. My mistress bent that brow of hers, Those deep dark eyes where pride demurs When pity would be softening through, Fix'd me a breathing-while or two With life or death in the balance: right! The blood replenish'd me again; My last thought was at least not vain: I and my mistress, side by side Shall be together, breathe and ride, So, one day more am I deified. Who knows but the world may end to-night? Hush! if you saw some western cloud All billowy-bosom'd, over-bow'd By many benedictions--sun's And moon's and evening-star's at once-- And so, you, looking and loving best, Conscious grew, your passion drew Cloud, sunset, moonrise, star-shine too, Down on you, near and yet more near, Till flesh must fade for heaven was here!-- Thus leant she and linger'd--joy and fear! Thus lay she a moment on my breast. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jim on May 23, 2006, 02:48:44 PM Then we began to ride. My soul
Smooth'd itself out, a long-cramp'd scroll Freshening and fluttering in the wind. Past hopes already lay behind. What need to strive with a life awry? Had I said that, had I done this, So might I gain, so might I miss. Might she have loved me? just as well She might have hated, who can tell! Where had I been now if the worst befell? And here we are riding, she and I. Fail I alone, in words and deeds? Why, all men strive and who succeeds? We rode; it seem'd my spirit flew, Saw other regions, cities new, As the world rush'd by on either side. I thought,--All labour, yet no less Bear up beneath their unsuccess. Look at the end of work, contrast The petty done, the undone vast, This present of theirs with the hopeful past! I hoped she would love me; here we ride. What hand and brain went ever pair'd? What heart alike conceived and dared? What act proved all its thought had been? What will but felt the fleshly screen? We ride and I see her bosom heave. There 's many a crown for who can reach. Ten lines, a statesman's life in each! The flag stuck on a heap of bones, A soldier's doing! what atones? They scratch his name on the Abbey-stones. My riding is better, by their leave. What does it all mean, poet? Well, Your brains beat into rhythm, you tell What we felt only; you express'd You hold things beautiful the best, And pace them in rhyme so, side by side. 'Tis something, nay 'tis much: but then, Have you yourself what 's best for men? Are you--poor, sick, old ere your time-- Nearer one whit your own sublime Than we who never have turn'd a rhyme? Sing, riding 's a joy! For me, I ride. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jim on May 23, 2006, 02:49:08 PM And you, great sculptor--so, you gave
A score of years to Art, her slave, And that 's your Venus, whence we turn To yonder girl that fords the burn! You acquiesce, and shall I repine? What, man of music, you grown gray With notes and nothing else to say, Is this your sole praise from a friend, 'Greatly his opera's strains intend, But in music we know how fashions end!' I gave my youth: but we ride, in fine. Who knows what 's fit for us? Had fate Proposed bliss here should sublimate My being--had I sign'd the bond-- Still one must lead some life beyond, Have a bliss to die with, dim-descried. This foot once planted on the goal, This glory-garland round my soul, Could I descry such? Try and test! I sink back shuddering from the quest. Earth being so good, would heaven seem best? Now, heaven and she are beyond this ride. And yet--she has not spoke so long! What if heaven be that, fair and strong At life's best, with our eyes upturn'd Whither life's flower is first discern'd, We, fix'd so, ever should so abide? What if we still ride on, we two With life for ever old yet new, Changed not in kind but in degree, The instant made eternity,-- And heaven just prove that I and she Ride, ride together, for ever ride? Robert Browning Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on May 23, 2006, 11:43:40 PM ^ Nice poem.
If Spirits Walk by Sophie Jewett ?I have heard (but not believed) the spirits of the dead May walk again.? - Winter?s Tale If spirits walk, Love, when the night climbs slow The slant footpath where we were wont to go, Be sure that I shall take the self-same way To the hill-crest, and shoreward, down the gray, Sheer, gravelled slope, where vetches straggling grow. Look for me not when gusts of winter blow, When at thy pane beat hands of sleet and snow; I would not come thy dear eyes to affray, If spirits walk. But when, in June, the pines are whispering low, And when their breath plays with thy bright hair so As some one's fingers once were used to play? That hour when birds leave song, and children pray, Keep the old tryst, sweetheart, and thou shalt know If spirits walk. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on May 23, 2006, 11:49:23 PM "I Remember, I Remember"
I remember, I remember, The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away! I remember, I remember, The roses, red and white, The violets, and the lily-cups, Those flowers made of light! The lilacs where the robin built, And where my brother set The laburnum on his birthday, - The tree is living yet! I remember, I remember, Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing; My spirit flew in feathers then, That is so heavy now, And summer pools could hardly cool The fever on my brow! I remember, I remember, The fir trees dark and high; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky: It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis little joy To know I'm farther off from heaven Than when I was a boy. --Thomas Hood-- Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: TheRaven on May 24, 2006, 12:35:12 AM Ever since seeing V for Vendetta I've enjoyed the one below.
Remember, remember, the 5th of November The Gunpowder Treason and plot; I know of no reason why Gunpowder Treason Should ever be forgot. Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'Twas his intent. To blow up the King and the Parliament. Three score barrels of powder below. Poor old England to overthrow. By God's providence he was catch'd, With a dark lantern and burning match Holloa boys, Holloa boys, let the bells ring Holloa boys, Holloa boys, God save the King! Hip hip Hoorah! Hip hip Hoorah! A penny loaf to feed ol'Pope, A farthing cheese to choke him. A pint of beer to rinse it down, A faggot of sticks to burn him. Burn him in a tub of tar,' Burn him like a blazing star. Burn his body from his head, Then we'll say: ol'Pope is dead. Hip hip Hoorah! Hip hip Hoorah! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Kujo on May 24, 2006, 08:06:13 AM Thanks for posting that. I loved it in the movie, but forgot to look it up. : ok:
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on May 25, 2006, 12:21:10 PM "the Killswitch"
i contemplate smashing things breaking things in an effort of sacrifice to the gods of rage but i need all these things so i settle for crawling into my bed shoving my face into the pillow and screaming. This is far less destructive except to each and every tiny dust mite whose hearing is now completely shot. Think of that, love. Not only do you do this to me, you make even the bed bugs suffer. --Jarvis Black-- Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on May 26, 2006, 04:18:39 AM Now that I have your voice by heart, I look.
Now that I have your voice by heart, I read In the black chords upon a dulling page Music that is not meant for music?s cage, Whose emblems mix with words that shake and bleed. The staves are shuttled over with a stark Unprinted silence. In a double dream I must spell out the storm, the running stream. The beat?s too swift. The notes shift in the dark. Now that I have your voice by heart, I read. "Song for the Last Act" - Louise Bogan Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jessica on June 02, 2006, 04:47:20 PM It's not a poem, it's a song, in french.
Tu Es Mon Autre by Lara Fabian Ame ou soeur, Jumeau ou fr?re de rien, mais qui es tu? Tu es mon plus grand myst?re, Mon seul lien contigu, Tu m'enrubannes et m'embryonnes Et tu me gardes ? vue. Tu es le seul animal De mon arche perdu. Tu ne parles qu'une langue, Aucun mot d?cu, Celle qui fait de toi mon autre, L'?tre reconnu. Il n'y a rien ? comprendre Et que passe l'intrus, Qui n'en pourra rien attendre Car je suis seule a les entendre les silences Et quand j'en tremble (Refrain) Toi tu es mon autre: La force de ma foi, Ma faiblesse et ma loi, Mon insolence et mon droit. Moi je suis ton autre, Si nous n'?tions pas d'ici Nous serions l'infini. Et si l'un de nous deux tombe, L'arbre de nos vies Nous gardera loin de l'ombre Entre ciel et fruit, Mais jamais trop loin de l'autre Ou nous serions maudits Tu seras ma derni?re seconde Car je suis seule ? les entendre les silences Et Quand j'en tremble (Refrain) ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah Et si l'un de nous deux tombe Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jessica on June 03, 2006, 06:34:46 AM What Do They Know
by Tima Chavis I face the world with a smile, no one knows what is hid inside. They see only happiness, they cant see the tears I've cried. When I am alone I hurt, because here I do it well. In front of all the watchful eyes my heaven turns to hell. The judge and jury awaits me, everyone has a say. In a life that hangs suspended for yet another day. Who are they to judge if what I have done is right or wrong? In the end I gave him up, but inside still sing his song. I don't know how to find the strength I thought I had. If only I could play tough it wouldn't be so bad. They say that life goes on and someday I'll smile again. But, how do they know my pain without being where I've been? I've traveled so far from home, and can't find my way back. Somewhere along the way I must have jumped the track. I saw him just today and his smile is still the same. He looked at me so sweetly, but never spoke my name. I wonder if he remembers me, It hasn't been that long. He may have forgotten me, but I still sing his song. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jessica on June 03, 2006, 06:40:52 AM Broken Heart
by Crystal Holtz I will never forget the days we once had The days when you were everything to me My mind used to tell me we'd be together forever But now I realize that was all a big dream The feelings I have for you will never go I wish I could take back that one regretful day The day when I willingly let you slide from my arms Never did I think of the astonishing pain of regrets That I would once have to live through The sight of you in someone else's arms Makes my heart shatter into a million pieces I sometimes wonder if you still think of me Or if to you, I'm just a face in the crowd I wish so very much that one day we can have it all back But for now, I'll sit here silently Remembering all the memories we once shared Everyday my love grows much stronger Hoping that one day you will feel the same And put back the pieces of my broken heart. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on June 12, 2006, 11:02:58 PM Theme song from one of my favorite movies:
"Imitation of Life" by Sammy Fain What is love Without the giving Without love You're only living An imitation Of life Skies above In flaming color Without love They're so much duller A false creation An imitation Of life Would the song of the lark Sound just as sweet Would the moon be as bright above Every day would be gray And incomplete Without the one you love Lips that kiss Can tell you clearly Without this Our lives are merely An imitation An imitation Of life Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: echrisl on June 14, 2006, 05:55:12 AM Fantastic thread ... I hadn't noticed it before, just spent a while browsing through previous posts, some great classics and some impressive originals.
This poem is a favorite of mine, and probably the poem that I most wished I had written as soon as I read it ... just fantastic: This Be The Verse by Philip Larkin They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you. But they were fucked up in their turn By fools in old-style hats and coats, Who half the time were soppy-stern And half at one another's throats. Man hands on misery to man. It deepens like a coastal shelf. Get out as early as you can, And don't have any kids yourself. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on June 14, 2006, 09:32:15 PM ^ I like that one, echrist.
All flowers in time bend towards the sun I know you say that there's no one for you But here is one You and I The calm below that poisoned the river wild You and I Tears that dry on a rude awakened child Where you look down I've walked before Burning holes With eyes of liquid brown If we had only known In a way We wouldn't reach this ground You were my only home Silver eyes I want to see you shine And we will feel the weight Fall away from us in time Searching our past for the true You and I All for you Where you think you'll fall I adore you Where you shut your soul I will open for you If we had only known In a way We'd never reach this ground I'll know Silver eyes I can see us shine I said, we will feel the weight Fall away from us in time Searching our past for a true You and I All for you. "You and I" - Jeff Buckley Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: echrisl on June 24, 2006, 01:49:34 AM That's the second or third time someone has thought my username was echrist recently (I post as echrisl under a bunch of different and diverse boards, so I'm not speaking just about this board).
I point this out not to correct you, but because it occurred to me that echrist would actually be a fairly clever username, as opposed to my current username, which is my first and last initial sandwiched around my middle name (Chris) ... very pedestrian of me, I know ... I don't think of these clever puns. P.S. I feel like I just composed a Deep Thought with Jack Handey. That tone is just perfect for reading my random post up to this point. Alright, I should put another poem, since this is the poem thread (Wordsworth is usually not a favorite of mine, by the way, but the Lucy poems seem to resonate better with me than most of his other work. This is my favorite of them.): by William Wordsworth She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love: A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! --Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in they sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Bill 213 on June 24, 2006, 01:53:35 AM The Man With The Blue Guitar
By: Wallace Stevens One The man bent over his guitar, A shearsman of sorts. The day was green. They said, ?You have a blue guitar, You do not play things as they are.? The man replied, ?Things as they are Are changed upon the blue guitar.? And they said to him, ?But play, you must, A tune beyond us, yet ourselves, A tune upon the blue guitar, Of things exactly as they are.? Two I cannot bring a world quite round, Although I patch it as I can. I sing a hero?s head, large eye And bearded bronze, but not a man, Although I patch him as I can And reach through him almost to man. If a serenade almost to man Is to miss, by that, things as they are, Say that it is the serenade Of a man that plays a blue guitar. Three A tune beyond us as we are, Yet nothing changed by the blue guitar; Ourselves in tune as if in space, Yet nothing changed, except the place Of things as they are and only the place As you play them on the blue guitar, Placed, so, beyond the compass of change, Perceived in a final atmosphere; For a moment final, in the way The thinking of art seems final when The thinking of god is smoky dew. The tune is space. The blue guitar Becomes the place of things as they are, A composing of senses of the guitar. Four Tom-tom c'est moi. The blue guitar And I are one. The orchestra Fills the high hall with shuffling men High as the hall. The whirling noise Of a multitude dwindles, all said, To his breath that lies awake at night. I know that timid breathing. Where Do I begin and end? And where, As I strum the thing, do I pick up That which momentarily declares Itself not to be I and yet Must be. It could be nothing else. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Shirell on June 24, 2006, 12:55:28 PM Here's a little ditty:
Sometimes when you're feeling important, sometimes when your ego's in bloom, Those times when you feel your the only important one in the room. Take a bucket and fill it with water, put your hands in up to the wrists. Take them out and the gap that is left there, is a measure of how much you'll be missed. So the next time you're feeling important, and giving orders to all that you can. Think of this tale and remember ............... There's no indispsenable man. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jim on June 24, 2006, 02:41:55 PM Lucy Gray
Oft I had heard of Lucy Gray, And when I cross'd the Wild, I chanc'd to see at break of day The solitary Child. No Mate, no comrade Lucy knew; She dwelt on a wild Moor, The sweetest Thing that ever grew Beside a human door! You yet may spy the Fawn at play, The Hare upon the Green; But the sweet face of Lucy Gray Will never more be seen. "To-night will be a stormy night, You to the Town must go, And take a lantern, Child, to light Your Mother thro' the snow." "That, Father! will I gladly do; 'Tis scarcely afternoon? The Minster-clock has just struck two, And yonder is the Moon." At this the Father rais'd his hook And snapp'd a faggot-band; He plied his work, and Lucy took The lantern in her hand. Not blither is the mountain roe, With many a wanton stroke Her feet disperse, the powd'ry snow That rises up like smoke. The storm came on before its time, She wander'd up and down, And many a hill did Lucy climb But never reach'd the Town. The wretched Parents all that night Went shouting far and wide; But there was neither sound nor sight To serve them for a guide. At day-break on a hill they stood That overlook'd the Moor; And thence they saw the Bridge of Wood A furlong from their door. And now they homeward turn'd, and cry'd "In Heaven we all shall meet!" When in the snow the Mother spied The print of Lucy's feet. Then downward from the steep hill's edge They track'd the footmarks small; And through the broken hawthorn-hedge, And by the long stone-wall; And then an open field they cross'd, The marks were still the same; They track'd them on, nor ever lost, And to the Bridge they came. They follow'd from the snowy bank The footmarks, one by one, Into the middle of the plank, And further there were none. Yet some maintain that to this day She is a living Child, That you may see sweet Lucy Gray Upon the lonesome Wild. O'er rough and smooth she trips along, And never looks behind; And sings a solitary song That whistles in the wind. William Wordsworth Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on June 26, 2006, 02:13:40 AM Fernando Pessoa
"Your Eyes Go Sad" Your eyes go sad You're not Listening to what I say They doze, dream, fade out Not listening. I talk away. I tell what I've told, out of listless Sadness, so often before ... I think you never listened, So you're away, you are. All of a sudden, an absent Stare, you look at me, still Immeasurably distant, You begin a smile. I go on talking. You Go on listening - your own Thoughts you listen to, The smile as good as gone, Until, through the loafing Afternoon's waste of while, The silence self-unleafing Of your useless smile. "This" They say I pretend or lie All I write. No such thing. It simply is that I Feel by imagining. I don't use the heart-string. All that I dream or lose, That falls short or dies on me, Is like a terrace which looks On another thing beyond. It's that thing that leads me on. And so I write in the middle Of things not next to one's feet, Free from my own muddle, Concerned for what is not. Feel? Let the reader feel! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: leila on June 26, 2006, 03:10:20 AM To a stranger
PASSING stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you, You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me, as of a dream,) I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you, All is recall'd as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured, You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me, I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only, You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return, I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone, I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again, I am to see to it that I do not lose you. Walt Whitman "Leaves of Grass" Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on June 29, 2006, 08:35:09 PM "Forgetfulness" by Billy Collins
The name of the author is the first to go followed obediently by the title, the plot, the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel which suddenly becomes one you have never read, never even heard of, as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain, to a little fishing village where there are no phones. Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag, and even now as you memorize the order of the planets, something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps, the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay. Whatever it is you are struggling to remember, it is not poised on the tip of your tongue, not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen. It has floated away down a dark mythological river whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall, well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle. No wonder you rise in the middle of the night to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war. No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted out of a love poem that you used to know by heart. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jim on June 30, 2006, 06:16:21 PM Father prayed and guess who came, the hooded man in Sithis' name, who left but then he came once more to pass through window, wall and door. I lie in fear, my mouth agape, as wicked blade did cleave your nape, for I was watching 'neath the bed to see the falling of your head. And when your face lie on the floor, our loving eyes did meet once more. And so I pledged to you that day, the Brotherhood would dearly pay, and just as they took me from you, I'd find and kill their mother too. But there's someplace I need to start, and that's with father's bleeding heart. And when that's done I'll sing and dance to celebrate a dead LaChance.
When in the snow, I like to lie and fold my arms and wait to die. (Okay, so I did make some amendments and technically it isn't a poem, but still...... I like it, so for the Oblivion fans........) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Natasha23 on July 01, 2006, 01:36:05 AM Resume -- by Dorothy Parker
Razors pain you; Rivers are damp; Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp. Guns aren't lawful; Nooses give; Gas smells awful; You might as well live. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on August 03, 2006, 03:22:04 AM Patience
Patience is wider than one once envisioned, with ribbons of rivers and distant ranges and tasks undertaken and finished with modest relish by natives in their native dress. Who would have guessed it possible that waiting is sustainable ? a place with its own harvests. Or that in time's fullness the diamonds of patience couldn't be distinguished from the genuine in brilliance or hardness. ~ Kay Ryan....by way of Huey & Aaron McGruder Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on August 07, 2006, 01:54:07 AM Another Reason Why I Don't Keep A Gun In The House
The neighbors' dog will not stop barking. He is barking the same high, rhythmic bark that he barks every time they leave the house. They must switch him on on their way out. The neighbors' dog will not stop barking. I close all the windows in the house and put on a Beethoven symphony full blast but I can still hear him muffled under the music, barking, barking, barking, and now I can see him sitting in the orchestra, his head raised confidently as if Beethoven had included a part for barking dog. When the record finally ends he is still barking, sitting there in the oboe section barking, his eyes fixed on the conductor who is entreating him with his baton while the other musicians listen in respectful silence to the famous barking dog solo, that endless coda that first established Beethoven as an innovative genius. - Billy Collins Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: judaskennedy on August 07, 2006, 02:00:12 AM there once was a man from Nantuket...
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on August 12, 2006, 06:46:12 PM What is music to you?
Music is freedom that relentlessly exists Freedom of speech Freedom of thought Freedom of creativity Freedom of imagination Music is ever soothingly healing A bombardment of on-going expression of feelings Music is a tool of unity Always bringing people together as family Hence be described as a mentor of spirituality Music is magic Performing its tricks With sweet instrumental tones and lyrics Music is emotionally captivating Music is positively distracting Music is a form of beautiful art Passed on as a message on a public stage Music is as powerful as water Flowing in and out of generations Trapped ever so often only by its own enormous power Music is an angel Singing out from the skies as she flies Music is love Music is the food of all moods Music is perfect and it is good for you - Sylvia Chidi Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Queen of Everything on August 15, 2006, 06:10:27 AM A SOLITUDE
A blind man. I can stare at him ashamed, shameless. Or does he know it? No, he is in a great solitude. O, strange joy, to gaze my fill at a stranger s face. No, my thirst is greater than before. In his world he is speaking almost aloud. His lips move. Anxiety plays about them. And now joy of some sort trembles into a smile. A breeze I can't feel crosses that face as if it crossed water. The train moves uptown, pulls in and pulls out of the local stops. Within its loud jarring movement a quiet, the quiet of people not speaking, some of them eyeing the blind man only a moment though, not thirsty like me, and within that quiet his different quiet, not quiet at all, a tumult of images, but what are his images, he is blind? He doesn't care that he looks strange, showing his thoughts on his face like designs of light flickering on water, for he doesn't know what look is. I see he has never seen. And now he rises, he stands at the door ready, knowing his station is next. Was he counting? No, that was not his need. When he gets out I get out. "Can I help you towards the exit?" "Oh, alright." An indifference. But instantly, even as he speaks, even as I hear indifference, his hand goes out, waiting for me to take it, and now we hold hands like children. His hand is warm and not sweaty, the grip firm, it feels good. And when we have passed through the turnstile, he going first, his hand at once waits for mine again. "Here are the steps. And here we turn to the right. More stairs now." We go up into sunlight. He feels that, the soft air. "A nice day, isn't it?" says the blind man. Solitude walks with me, walks beside me, he is not with me, he continues his thoughts alone. But his hand and mine know one another, it's as if my hand were gone forth on its own journey. I see him across the street, the blind man, and now he says he can find his way. He knows where he is going, it is nowhere, it is filled with presences. He says. I am. Denise Levertov. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sesor on August 15, 2006, 06:21:52 PM Nobody hurt you. Nobody turned off the light and argued
with somebody else all night. The bad man on the moors was only a movie you saw. Nobody locked the door. Your questions were answered fully. No. That didn't occur. You couldn't sing anyway, cared less. The moment's a blur, a Film Fun laughing itself to death in the coal fire. Anyone's guess. Nobody forced you. You wanted to go that day. Begged. You chose the dress. Here are the pictures, look at you. Look at us all, smiling and waving, younger. The whole thing is inside your head. What you recall are impressions; we have the facts. We called the tune. The secret police of your childhood were older and wiser than you, bigger than you. Call back the sound of their voices. Boom. Boom. Boom. Nobody sent you away. That was an extra holiday, with people you seemed to like. They were firm, there was nothing to fear. There was none but yourself to blame if it ended in tears. What does it matter now? No, no, nobody left the skidmarks of sin on your soul and laid you wide open for Hell. You were loved. Always. We did what was best. We remember your childhood well. Carol Ann Duffy Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: echrisl on August 20, 2006, 02:57:46 AM Another Reason Why I Don't Keep A Gun In The House The neighbors' dog will not stop barking. He is barking the same high, rhythmic bark that he barks every time they leave the house. They must switch him on on their way out. The neighbors' dog will not stop barking. I close all the windows in the house and put on a Beethoven symphony full blast but I can still hear him muffled under the music, barking, barking, barking, and now I can see him sitting in the orchestra, his head raised confidently as if Beethoven had included a part for barking dog. When the record finally ends he is still barking, sitting there in the oboe section barking, his eyes fixed on the conductor who is entreating him with his baton while the other musicians listen in respectful silence to the famous barking dog solo, that endless coda that first established Beethoven as an innovative genius. - Billy Collins That's a fantastic poem. : ok: Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: liquidvirus on August 20, 2006, 04:54:44 AM This was when i was really bored at work and all i could see on the news was the lebanon situation
Blindfold When bombs drop through the midnite sky the echoes of screams are hauntingly dry, silence that will petrify children and women break down and cry. When will the cloud of violence clear ? and the sound of peace be heard / a river dries for a blood filled tear for nations so perturbed, how can one sleep at night, as nations justify wrong as right more than dogeatdog, its maneatman is it worth it when carcusses form the border of this disputed land ? the troops march to the war drum carrying out orders of militant scum, when the sun sets and we wait for dinner the nuclear dust clears, now whos the winner ? when the thunder of weapons punctuate the words screams of pain are whispers unheard, when death tolls are measured from dusk to dawn, I'd rather walk this thru this life with a blindfold on. (cause if i cant see, to me, it will cease to be) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: kathryn2662 on August 25, 2006, 11:59:48 PM I've been staring at the sky tonight
Marvelling and passing time Wondering what to do with daylight Until I can make you mine You are the one I want, you are the one I want I've been thinking of changing my mind (It never stays the same for long) But of all the things I know for sure You're the only certain one You are the one I want, you are the one I want I've been counting up all my wrongs One sorry for each star See I'd apologise my way to you If the heavens stretched that far You are the one I want, you are the one I want I won't find what I am looking for If I only "see" by keeping score 'Cos I know now you are so much more than arithmetic 'Cos if I add, if I subtract If I give it all, try to take some back I've forgotten the freedom that comes from the fact That you are the sum So you are the one I want When the years are showing on my face And my strongest days are gone When my heart and flesh depart this place From a life that sung your song You'll still be the one I want Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on September 07, 2006, 10:32:12 PM Invictus
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll. I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. - William Ernest Henley Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Kujo on September 08, 2006, 09:26:31 AM I'm walking through the summer nights
Jukebox playing low Yesterday everything was going too fast Today, it's moving too slow I got no place left to turn I got nothing left to burn Don't know if I saw you, if I would kiss you or kill you It probably wouldn't matter to you anyhow You left me standing in the doorway, crying I got nothing to go back to now The light in this place is so bad Making me sick in the head All the laughter is just making me sad The stars have turned cherry red I'm strumming on my gay guitar Smoking a cheap cigar The ghost of our old love has not gone away Don't look like it will anytime soon You left me standing in the doorway crying Under the midnight moon Maybe they'll get me and maybe they won't But not tonight and it won't be here There are things I could say but I don't I know the mercy of God must be near I've been riding the midnight train Got ice water in my veins I would be crazy if I took you back It would go up against every rule You left me standing in the doorway, crying Suffering like a fool When the last rays of daylight go down Buddy, you'll roll no more I can hear the church bells ringing in the yard I wonder who they're ringing for I know I can't win But my heart just won't give in Last night I danced with a stranger But she just reminded me you were the one You left me standing in the doorway crying In the dark land of the sun I'll eat when I'm hungry, drink when I'm dry And live my life on the square And even if the flesh falls off of my face I know someone will be there to care It always means so much Even the softest touch I see nothing to be gained by any explanation There are no words that need to be said You left me standing in the doorway crying Blues wrapped around my head Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on September 10, 2006, 09:09:49 PM ^ Very nice poems, RQ and Kujo.
November There is wind where the rose was, Cold rain where sweet grass was, And clouds like sheep Stream o'er the steep Grey skies where the lark was. Nought warm where your hand was, Nought gold where your hair was, But phantom, forlorn, Beneath the thorn, Your ghost where your face was. Cold wind where your voice was, Tears, tears where my heart was, And ever with me, Child, ever with me, Silence where hope was. - Walter de la Mare Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: 2NaFish on September 10, 2006, 09:17:27 PM Philip Larkin - Church Going
Once I am sure there's nothing going on I step inside, letting the door thud shut. Another church: matting, seats, and stone, And little books; sprawlings of flowers, cut For Sunday, brownish now; some brass and stuff Up at the holy end; the small neat organ; And a tense, musty, unignorable silence, Brewed God knows how long. Hatless, I take off My cycle-clips in awkward reverence. Move forward, run my hand around the font. From where I stand, the roof looks almost new - Cleaned, or restored? Someone would know: I don't. Mounting the lectern, I peruse a few Hectoring large-scale verses, and pronounce 'Here endeth' much more loudly than I'd meant. The echoes snigger briefly. Back at the door I sign the book, donate an Irish sixpence, Reflect the place was not worth stopping for. Yet stop I did: in fact I often do, And always end much at a loss like this, Wondering what to look for; wondering, too, When churches will fall completely out of use What we shall turn them into, if we shall keep A few cathedrals chronically on show, Their parchment, plate and pyx in locked cases, And let the rest rent-free to rain and sheep. Shall we avoid them as unlucky places? Or, after dark, will dubious women come To make their children touch a particular stone; Pick simples for a cancer; or on some Advised night see walking a dead one? Power of some sort will go on In games, in riddles, seemingly at random; But superstition, like belief, must die, And what remains when disbelief has gone? Grass, weedy pavement, brambles, buttress, sky, A shape less recognisable each week, A purpose more obscure. I wonder who Will be the last, the very last, to seek This place for what it was; one of the crew That tap and jot and know what rood-lofts were? Some ruin-bibber, randy for antique, Or Christmas-addict, counting on a whiff Of gown-and-bands and organ-pipes and myrrh? Or will he be my representative, Bored, uninformed, knowing the ghostly silt Dispersed, yet tending to this cross of ground Through suburb scrub because it held unspilt So long and equably what since is found Only in separation - marriage, and birth, And death, and thoughts of these - for which was built This special shell? For, though I've no idea What this accoutred frowsty barn is worth, It pleases me to stand in silence here; A serious house on serious earth it is, In whose blent air all our compulsions meet, Are recognized, and robed as destinies. And that much never can be obsolete, Since someone will forever be surprising A hunger in himself to be more serious, And gravitating with it to this ground, Which, he once heard, was proper to grow wise in, If only that so many dead lie round. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on September 11, 2006, 12:07:45 PM Big Heart
In their short lives give to me repeatedly, in the way the sea places its many fingers on the shore, again and again and they know me, they help me unravel, they listen with ears made of conch shells, they speak back with the wine of the best region. They are my staff. They comfort me. They hear how the artery of my soul has been severed and soul is spurting out upon them, bleeding on them, messing up their clothes, dirtying their shoes. And God is filling me, though there are times of doubt as hollow as the Grand Canyon, still God is filling me. He is giving me the thoughts of dogs, the spider in its intricate web, the sun in all its amazement, and a slain ram that is the glory, the mystery of great cost, and my heart, which is very big, I promise it is very large, a monster of sorts, takes it all in-- all in comes the fury of love. - Anne Sexton Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on September 12, 2006, 09:32:45 PM keekee....... anne sexton is my favoriate manic depressive poet,
Anna Who Was Mad Anne Sexton Anna who was mad, I have a knife in my armpit. When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages. Am I some sort of infection? Did I make you go insane? Did I make the sounds go sour? Did I tell you to climb out the window? Forgive. Forgive. Say not I did. Say not. Say. Speak Mary-words into our pillow. Take me the gangling twelve-year-old into your sunken lap. Whisper like a buttercup. Eat me. Eat me up like cream pudding. Take me in. Take me. Take. Give me a report on the condition of my soul. Give me a complete statement of my actions. Hand me a jack-in-the-pulpit and let me listen in. Put me in the stirrups and bring a tour group through. Number my sins on the grocery list and let me buy. Did I make you go insane? Did I turn up your earphone and let a siren drive through? Did I open the door for the mustached psychiatrist who dragged you out like a gold cart? Did I make you go insane? From the grave write me, Anna! You are nothing but ashes but nevertheless pick up the Parker Pen I gave you. Write me. Write. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on September 12, 2006, 09:35:44 PM Dreaming The Breasts
Anne Sexton Mother, strange goddess face above my milk home, that delicate asylum, I ate you up. All my need took you down like a meal. What you gave I remember in a dream: the freckled arms binding me, the laugh somewhere over my woolly hat, the blood fingers tying my shoe, the breasts hanging like two bats and then darting at me, bending me down. The breasts I knew at midnight beat like the sea in me now. Mother, I put bees in my mouth to keep from eating yet it did no good. In the end they cut off your breasts and milk poured from them into the surgeon's hand and he embraced them. I took them from him and planted them. I have put a padlock on you, Mother, dear dead human, so that your great bells, those dear white ponies, can go galloping, galloping, wherever you are. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on September 12, 2006, 09:44:30 PM Mad Girl's Love Song- Sylvia Plath
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.) God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade: Exit seraphim and Satan's men: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.) I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)" I love sylvia plath too, she was best friends with anne sexton they both killed themselves....keekee :o Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: themovieaddict.com on September 12, 2006, 09:48:54 PM good weather
is like good women- it doesn't always happen and when it does it doesn't always last. man is more stable: if he's bad there's more chance he'll stay that way, or if he's good he might hang on, but a woman is changed by children age diet conversation sex the moon the absence or presence of sun or good times. a woman must be nursed into subsistence by love where a man can become stronger by being hated. - CHARLES BUKOWSKI Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on September 12, 2006, 10:04:16 PM I liked that by charles 8)...keekee...I love confessional political and beatnik poetry
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on September 12, 2006, 10:08:24 PM Charles Bukowski
Consummation Of Grief I even hear the mountains the way they laugh up and down their blue sides and down in the water the fish cry and the water is their tears. I listen to the water on nights I drink away and the sadness becomes so great I hear it in my clock it becomes knobs upon my dresser it becomes paper on the floor it becomes a shoehorn a laundry ticket it becomes cigarette smoke climbing a chapel of dark vines. . . it matters little very little love is not so bad or very little life what counts is waiting on walls I was born for this I was born to hustle roses down the avenues of the dead. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on September 16, 2006, 10:17:14 PM I love sylvia plath too, she was best friends with anne sexton they both killed themselves....keekee :o Yeah, it's unfortunate. Imagine how much more they could've accomplished had they stuck around. September Midnights Lyric night of the lingering Indian Summer, Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing, Never a bird, but the passionless chant of insects, Ceaseless, insistent. The grasshopper's horn, and far-off, high in the maples, The wheel of a locust leisurely grinding the silence Under a moon waning and worn, borken, Tired with summer. Let me remember you, voices of little insects, Weeds in the moonlight, fields that are tangled with asters, Let me remember, soon will the winter be on us, Snow-hushed and heavy. Over my soul murmur your mute benediction, While I gaze, O fields that rest after harvest, As those who part look long in the eyes they lean to, Lest they forget them. - Sarah Teasdale Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on September 17, 2006, 01:29:33 PM I like the imagery in this one:
"Years later we'll remember the bathtub. the position of the taps the water, slippery as if a bucketful of eels had joined us ... we'll be old, our children grown up but we'll remember the water sloshing out the useless soap, the mountain of wet towels, 'Remember the bathtub in Belfast?' we'll prod each other -" ~Sujata Bhatt, b. 1956 ~ Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Danny Top Hat on September 17, 2006, 01:33:58 PM Roses are red,
Violets are blue, Arsenal are great, Cause they beat Man Yoo. :-* Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on September 19, 2006, 03:01:19 AM When I Think Of You
? ? Razor sharp lust abruptly vanishes into curiosity and passion one probing the other fog-like then desire consumes both ...And They Say Love Is Blind ? ? I ran easily through the night despite the path I was one with the shadows slipping through moonlight and conscience thought to your face. it's almost as clear to my eyes, as the light of the sun. ...and they say love is blind? A Beautiful Dream ? ? You appear there in front of me very nearly transparent your presence looking like a reflection in a mist shrouded mirror so hazy a strong puff might blow you away like fog yet this Love is not the memory of a beautiful dream... when I reach out you are there - Eila Mahima Jaipaul? Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on September 21, 2006, 01:59:09 AM Lovesong? ?
He loved her and she loved him. His kisses sucked out her whole past and future or tried to He had no other appetite She bit him she gnawed him she sucked She wanted him complete inside her Safe and sure forever and ever Their little cries fluttered into the curtains Her eyes wanted nothing to get away Her looks nailed down his hands his wrists his elbows He gripped her hard so that life Should not drag her from that moment He wanted all future to cease He wanted to topple with his arms round her Off that moment's brink and into nothing Or everlasting or whatever there was Her embrace was an immense press To print him into her bones His smiles were the garrets of a fairy palace Where the real world would never come Her smiles were spider bites So he would lie still till she felt hungry His words were occupying armies Her laughs were an assassin's attempts His looks were bullets daggers of revenge His glances were ghosts in the corner with horrible secrets His whispers were whips and jackboots Her kisses were lawyers steadily writing His caresses were the last hooks of a castaway Her love-tricks were the grinding of locks And their deep cries crawled over the floors Like an animal dragging a great trap His promises were the surgeon's gag Her promises took the top off his skull She would get a brooch made of it His vows pulled out all her sinews He showed her how to make a love-knot Her vows put his eyes in formalin At the back of her secret drawer Their screams stuck in the wall Their heads fell apart into sleep like the two halves Of a lopped melon, but love is hard to stop In their entwined sleep they exchanged arms and legs In their dreams their brains took each other hostage In the morning they wore each other's face - Ted Hughes Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on September 21, 2006, 10:56:43 AM For The Record
The clouds and the stars didn't wage this war the brooks gave no information if the mountain spewed stones of fire into the river it was not taking sides the raindrop faintly swaying under the leaf had no political opinions and if here or there a house filled with backed-up raw sewage or poisoned those who lived there with slow fumes, over years the houses were not at war nor did the tinned-up buildings intend to refuse shelter to homeless old women and roaming children they had no policy to keep them roaming or dying, no, the cities were not the problem the bridges were non-partisan the freeways burned, but not with hatred Even the miles of barbed-wire stretched around crouching temporary huts designed to keep the unwanted at a safe distance, out of sight even the boards that had to absorb year upon year, so many human sounds so many depths of vomit, tears slow-soaking blood had not offered themselves for this The trees didn't volunteer to be cut into boards nor the thorns for tearing flesh Look around at all of it and ask whose signature is stamped on the orders, traced in the corner of the building plans Ask where the illiterate, big-bellied women were, the drunks and crazies, the ones you fear most of all: ask where you were. Adrienne Rich Yeah Journey it is sad that sylvia and anne killed themselves they were fantastic poets! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Skeletor on September 22, 2006, 04:22:25 AM Kahlil Gibran: My Friend
My friend, I am not what I seem. Seeming is but a garment I wear -- a care-woven garment that protects me from thy questionings and thee from my negligence. The "I" in me, my friend, dwells in the house of silence, and therein it shall remain for ever more, unperceived, unapproachable. I would not have thee believe in what I say nor trust in what I do -- for my words are naught but thy own thoughts in sound and my deeds thy own hopes in action. When thou sayest, "The wind bloweth eastward," I say, "Aye, it doth blow eastward"; for I would not have thee know that my mind doth not dwell upon the wind but upon the sea. Thou canst not understand my seafaring thoughts, nor would I have thee understand. I would be at sea alone. When it is day with thee, my friend, it is night with me; yet even then I speak of the noontide that dances upon the hills and of the purple shadow that steals its way across the valley; for thou canst not hear the songs of my darkness nor see my wings beating against the stars -- and I fain would not have thee hear or see. I would be with night alone. When thou ascendest to thy Heaven I descend to my Hell -- even then thou callest to me across the unbridgeable gulf, "My companion, my comrade," and I call back to thee, "My comrade, my companion" -- for I would not have thee see my Hell. The flame would burn thy eyesight and the smoke would crowd thy nostrils. And I love my Hell too well to have thee visit it. I would be in Hell alone. Thou lovest Truth and Beauty and Righteousness; and I for thy sake say it is well and seemly to love these things. But in my heart I laugh at thy love. Yet I would not have thee see my laughter. I would laugh alone. My friend, thou art good and cautious and wise; nay, thou art perfect -- and I, too, speak with thee wisely and cautiously. And yet I am mad. But I mask my madness. I would be mad alone. My friend, thou art not my friend, but how shall I make thee understand? My path is not thy path, yet together we walk, hand in hand. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on September 22, 2006, 09:38:31 AM Kahlil Gibran: My Friend My friend, I am not what I seem. Seeming is but a garment I wear -- a care-woven garment that protects me from thy questionings and thee from my negligence. The "I" in me, my friend, dwells in the house of silence, and therein it shall remain for ever more, unperceived, unapproachable. I would not have thee believe in what I say nor trust in what I do -- for my words are naught but thy own thoughts in sound and my deeds thy own hopes in action. When thou sayest, "The wind bloweth eastward," I say, "Aye, it doth blow eastward"; for I would not have thee know that my mind doth not dwell upon the wind but upon the sea. Thou canst not understand my seafaring thoughts, nor would I have thee understand. I would be at sea alone. When it is day with thee, my friend, it is night with me; yet even then I speak of the noontide that dances upon the hills and of the purple shadow that steals its way across the valley; for thou canst not hear the songs of my darkness nor see my wings beating against the stars -- and I fain would not have thee hear or see. I would be with night alone. When thou ascendest to thy Heaven I descend to my Hell -- even then thou callest to me across the unbridgeable gulf, "My companion, my comrade," and I call back to thee, "My comrade, my companion" -- for I would not have thee see my Hell. The flame would burn thy eyesight and the smoke would crowd thy nostrils. And I love my Hell too well to have thee visit it. I would be in Hell alone. Thou lovest Truth and Beauty and Righteousness; and I for thy sake say it is well and seemly to love these things. But in my heart I laugh at thy love. Yet I would not have thee see my laughter. I would laugh alone. My friend, thou art good and cautious and wise; nay, thou art perfect -- and I, too, speak with thee wisely and cautiously. And yet I am mad. But I mask my madness. I would be mad alone. My friend, thou art not my friend, but how shall I make thee understand? My path is not thy path, yet together we walk, hand in hand. Kahlil Gibran was read at my wedding ceremony ....keekee, fantastic poet, very deep :love: Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on September 27, 2006, 02:18:33 AM One Art
The art of losing isn't hard to master; so many things seem filled with the intent to be lost that their loss is no disaster, Lose something every day. Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. The art of losing isn't hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster: places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel. None of these will bring disaster. I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or next-to-last, of three beloved houses went. The art of losing isn't hard to master. I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster. -- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident the art of losing's not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster. - Elizabeth Bishop Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on September 29, 2006, 06:20:21 PM Daddy
You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy, I have had to kill you. You died before I had time ---- Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, Ghastly statue with one gray toe Big as a Frisco seal And a head in the freakish Atlantic Where it pours bean green over blue In the waters off the beautiful Nauset. I used to pray to recover you. Ach, du. In the German tongue, in the Polish town Scraped flat by the roller Of wars, wars, wars. But the name of the town is common. My Polack friend Says there are a dozen or two. So I never could tell where you Put your foot, your root, I never could talk to you. The tongue stuck in my jaw. It stuck in a barb wire snare. Ich, ich, ich, ich, I could hardly speak. I thought every German was you. And the language obscene An engine, an engine, Chuffing me off like a Jew. A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen. I began to talk like a Jew. I think I may well be a Jew. The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna Are not very pure or true. With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack I may be a bit of a Jew. I have always been scared of you, With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo. And your neat mustache And your Aryan eye, bright blue. Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You ---- Not God but a swastika So black no sky could squeak through. Every woman adores a Fascist, The boot in the face, the brute Brute heart of a brute like you. You stand at the blackboard, daddy, In the picture I have of you, A cleft in your chin instead of your foot But no less a devil for that, no not Any less the black man who Bit my pretty red heart in two. I was ten when they buried you. At twenty I tried to die And get back, back, back to you. I thought even the bones would do. But they pulled me out of the sack, And they stuck me together with glue. And then I knew what to do. I made a model of you, A man in black with a Meinkampf look And a love of the rack and the screw. And I said I do, I do. So daddy, I'm finally through. The black telephone's off at the root, The voices just can't worm through. If I've killed one man, I've killed two ---- The vampire who said he was you And drank my blood for a year, Seven years, if you want to know. Daddy, you can lie back now. There's a stake in your fat black heart And the villagers never liked you. They are dancing and stamping on you. They always knew it was you. Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through. Sylvia Plath Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on September 29, 2006, 06:23:33 PM Divorce, Thy Name is Woman !
I am Divorcing daddy - Dybbuk Dybbuk I have been doing it daily all my life since his sperm left him drilling upwards and stuck to an egg. Fetus, fetus - glows and glows in that home and bursts out, electric, demanding moths. For years it was woman to woman, breast, crib, toilet, dolls, dress-ups. WOMAN! WOMAN! Daddy of the whiskies, daddy of the rooster breath, would visit and then dash away as if I were a disease. Later, when blood and eggs and breasts dropped onto me, Daddy and his whiskey breath made a long midnight visist in a dream that is not a dream and then called his lawyer quickly. Daddy divorcing me. I have been divorcing him ever since, going into court with Mother as my witness and both long dead or not I am still divorcing him, adding up the crimes of how he came to me, how he left me. I am pacing the bedroom. Opening and shutting the windows. making the bed and pulling it apart. I am tearing the feathers out of pillows, waiting, waiting for daddy to come home and stuff me so full of our infected child that I turn invisible, but married at last. Anne Sexton Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on September 29, 2006, 06:28:37 PM "Daddy" Warbucks
What's missing is the eyeballs in each of us, but it doesn't matter because you've got the bucks, the bucks, the bucks. You let me touch them, fondle the green faces lick at their numbers and it lets you be my "Daddy!" "Daddy!" and though I fought all alone with molesters and crooks, I knew your money would save me, your courage, your "I've had considerable experience as a soldier... fighting to win millions for myself, it's true. But I did win," and me praying for "our men out there" just made it okay to be an orphan whose blood was no one's, whose curls were hung up on a wire machine and electrified, while you built and unbuilt intrigues called nations, and did in the bad ones, always, always, and always came at my perils, the black Christs of childhood, always came when my heart stood naked in the street and they threw apples at it or twelve-day-old-dead-fish. "Daddy!" "Daddy," we all won that war, when you sang me the money songs Annie, Annie you sang and I knew you drove a pure gold car and put diamonds in your coke for the crunchy sound, the adorable sound and the moon too was in your portfolio, as well as the ocean with its sleepy dead. And I was always brave, wasn't I? I never bled? I never saw a man expose himself. No. No. I never saw a drunkard in his blubber. I never let lightning go in one car and out the other. And all the men out there were never to come. Never, like a deluge, to swim over my breasts and lay their lamps in my insides. No. No. Just me and my "Daddy" and his tempestuous bucks rolling in them like corn flakes and only the bad ones died. But I died yesterday, "Daddy," I died, swallowing the Nazi-Jap animal and it won't get out it keeps knocking at my eyes, my big orphan eyes, kicking! Until eyeballs pop out and even my dog puts up his four feet and lets go of his military secret with his big red tongue flying up and down like yours should have as we board our velvet train. Anne Sexton In Memoriam Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on October 03, 2006, 11:48:49 PM In a Minor Key
? ? (AN ECHO FROM A LARGER LYRE.) That was love that I had before Years ago, when my heart was young; Ev'ry smile was a gem you wore; Ev'ry word was a sweet song sung. Tears and verses I shed for you in show'rs; I would have staked my soul for a kiss; Tribute daily I brought you of flow'rs, Rose, lily, your favourite eucharis. Is it love that I have to-day? Love, that bloom'd early, has it bloom'd late For me, that, clothed in my spirit's grey, Sit in the stillness and stare at Fate? Song nor sonnet for you I've penned, Nor passionate paced by your home's wide wall I have brought you never a flow'r, my friend, Never a tear for your sake let fall. And yet--and yet--ah, who understands? We men and women are complex things! A hundred tunes Fate's inexorable hands May play on the sensitive soul-strings. Webs of strange patterns we weave (each owns) From colour and sound; and like unto these, Soul has its tones and its semitones, Mind has its major and minor keys. Your face (men pass it without a word) It haunts my dreams like an odd, sweet strain; When your name is spoken my soul is stirr'd In its deepest depths with a dull, dim pain. I paced, in the damp grey mist, last night In the streets (an hour) to see you pass: Yet I do not think that I love you--quite; What's felt so finely 'twere coarse to class. And yet--and yet--I scarce can tell why (As I said, we are riddles and hard to read), If the world went ill with you, and I Could help with a hidden hand your need; But, ere I could reach you where you lay, Must strength and substance and honour spend; Journey long journeys by night and day-- Somehow, I think I should come, my friend! - Amy Levy Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on October 07, 2006, 10:40:47 AM If You Forget Me
I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, as if everything that exists, aromas, light, metals, were little boats that sail toward those isles of yours that wait for me. Well, now, if little by little you stop loving me I shall stop loving you little by little. If suddenly you forget me do not look for me, for I shall already have forgotten you. If you think it long and mad, the wind of banners that passes through my life, and you decide to leave me at the shore of the heart where I have roots, remember that on that day, at that hour, I shall lift my arms and my roots will set off to seek another land. But if each day, each hour, you feel that you are destined for me with implacable sweetness, if each day a flower climbs up to your lips to seek me, ah my love, ah my own, in me all that fire is repeated, in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, my love feeds on your love, beloved, and as long as you live it will be in your arms without leaving mine. - Pablo Neruda Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on October 19, 2006, 02:47:09 PM Fulfilment
The earth-meaning Like the sky-meaning Was fulfilled We got up And went to the river, Touched silver water, Laughed and bathed In the sunshine. Day Became a bright ball of light For us to play with, Sunset A yellow curtain, Night A velvet screen The moon, Like an old grandmother, Blessed us with a kiss And sleep Took us both in Laughing - Langston Hughes Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on October 30, 2006, 01:24:57 AM Sex Without Love
? ? How do they do it, the ones who make love without love? Beautiful as dancers, gliding over each other like ice-skaters over the ice, fingers hooked inside each other's bodies, faces red as steak, wine, wet as the children at birth whose mothers are going to give them away. How do they come to the come to the, come to the God come to the still waters, and not love the one who came there with them, light rising slowly as steam off their joined skin? These are the true religious, the purists, the pros, the ones who will not accept a false Messiah, love the priest instead of the God. They do not mistake the lover for their own pleasure, they are like great runners: they know they are alone with the road surface, the cold, the wind, the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio- vascular health--just factors, like the partner in the bed, and not the truth, which is the single body alone in the universe against its own best time. - Sharon Olds Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on October 30, 2006, 10:02:33 AM The garden
En robe de parade. Samain Like a skien of loose silk blown against a wall She walks by the railing of a path in Kensington Gardens, And she is dying piece-meal of a sort of emotional anaemia. And round about there is a rabble Of the filthy, sturdy, unkillable infants of the very poor. They shall inherit the earth. In her is the end of breeding. Her boredom is exquisite and excessive. She would like some one to speak to her, And is almost afraid that I will commit that indiscretion. Ezra Pound Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: CheapJon on October 31, 2006, 02:15:25 PM a poem that i wrote myself is my favourite one, but it's on swedish so no reason to post it
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on November 03, 2006, 10:54:43 AM The Missing
the way loss seeps into neck hollows and curls at temples sits between front teeth cavity empty and waiting for mourning to open the way mourning stays forever shadowing vision shaping lives with memory a drawer won't close sleep elusive smile illusive the only real is grief forever counting the days minutes missing without knowing so that one day you find yourself showering tears missing that love like sugar aches teeth - Suheir Hammad Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on November 04, 2006, 09:02:51 AM The Missing the way loss seeps into neck hollows and curls at temples sits between front teeth cavity empty and waiting for mourning to open the way mourning stays forever shadowing vision shaping lives with memory a drawer won't close sleep elusive smile illusive the only real is grief forever counting the days minutes missing without knowing so that one day you find yourself showering tears missing that love like sugar aches teeth - Suheir Hammad I just loved that. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on November 05, 2006, 11:54:21 AM I just loved that. Suheir is an amazing poet. Her work is very moving and extrospective. Glad you liked it.? Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on November 05, 2006, 01:52:22 PM Human
What is it, To be human? Is it that we are not animal? Not mineral? Who's to say what is human? You? Humans have only fear and doubt. They cower in fortresses Brought down by their own kind. Wasteful, unmindful of others, furthering only their own greed. If such is human, Then I am an animal, Gladly an animal. To prowl the streets, searching for food And using all that is nature to curb my every need, my every whim. What is human? To lie, steal, cheat. To live life without really living. I am an animal. Born to run free and unfettered by rules or norms. I am wild as mother earth Whose only purpose is to exist. And exist I shall. Joy Vanderhelm 2005 Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on November 05, 2006, 02:12:09 PM The Beach
A harsh Northerly breeze enlightens, Purifying my unfortunate mind. Seagulls dotted here and there; Like points on a map you may wish to visit, This is my small world. Ships upon the horizon, carrying their poison, In sight, in mind, out of reach. Two fortresses stand as they?ve always stood, in defiance Hulking, rusting, tempting me always The weather is their enemy now. When people arrive, tranquillity dies, So I observe them. Old people with their complaints Their dogs and their memories, Seated on the benches behind the wave break, Longing to be drowned by the youthful exuberance below. Brash gaggles of families armed with seaside propaganda ruin my view. I?ll come back tonight, and the stars will write for me. --Kris Thain-- Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on November 09, 2006, 04:06:04 PM excerpt from "Biographical Insert"
by K. Dimoula (translation by D. Connolly) I grew up self-taught listening to the waves how naturally they move the pebbles. Secretly listening to the rattle from the easy crushing of previous positions. I translated echos into many foreign errors. At my own expense I asphalted the pointless enabling the dirt-crowds to travel dust-free. I popularized the one into many. I proved mathematically. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on November 16, 2006, 12:08:32 PM I Made A Mistake
by Charles Bukowski I reached up into the top of the closet and took out a pair of blue panties and showed them to her and asked "are these yours?" and she looked and said, "no, those belong to a dog." she left after that and I haven't seen her since. she's not at her place. I keep going there, leaving notes stuck into the door. I go back and the notes are still there. I take the Maltese cross cut it down from my car mirror, tie it to her doorknob with a shoelace, leave a book of poems. when I go back the next night everything is still there. I keep searching the streets for that blood-wine battleship she drives with a weak battery, and the doors hanging from broken hinges. I drive around the streets an inch away from weeping, ashamed of my sentimentality and possible love. a confused old man driving in the rain wondering where the good luck went. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on November 23, 2006, 04:13:43 PM Progress by Laurie Anderson
She said: What is history? And he said: History is an angel being blown backwards into the future He said: History is a pile of debris And the angel wants to go back and fix things To repair the things that have been broken But there is a storm blowing from Paradise And the storm keeps blowing the angel backwards into the future And this storm, this storm is called Progress Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on November 23, 2006, 04:49:56 PM t isn't the kind of blue you would imagine;
the melancholy suspenders that hold some up. It is cobalt, the muscular blue that doesn't fold the kind that comes from heat the kind from growing old and knowing where you are from and knowing where you are going without those silly denials that come from rose coloured eyes ~terri lynn~ Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on November 23, 2006, 08:54:04 PM Coda
There?s little in taking or giving, There?s little in water or wine; This living, this living, this living Was never a project of mine. Oh, hard is the struggle, and sparse is The gain of the one at the top, For art is a form of catharsis, And love is a permanent flop, And work is the province of cattle, And rest?s for a clam in a shell, So I?m thinking of throwing the battle? Would you kindly direct me to hell? Dorothy Parker Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on November 23, 2006, 09:00:01 PM Ballad of the Despairing Husband
My wife and I lived all alone, contention was our only bone. I fought with her, she fought with me, and things went on right merrily. But now I live here by myself with hardly a damn thing on the shelf, and pass my days with little cheer since I have parted from my dear. Oh come home soon, I write to her. Go fuck yourself, is her answer. Now what is that, for Christian word? I hope she feeds on dried goose turd. But still I love her, yes I do. I love her and the children too. I only think it fit that she should quickly come right back to me. Ah no, she says, and she is tough, and smacks me down with her rebuff. Ah no, she says, I will not come after the bloody things you've done. Oh wife, oh wife -- I tell you true, I never loved no one but you. I never will, it cannot be another woman is for me. That may be right, she will say then, but as for me, there's other men. And I will tell you I propose to catch them firmly by the nose. And I will wear what dresses I choose! And I will dance, and what's to lose! I'm free of you, you little prick, and I'm the one to make it stick. Was this the darling I did love? Was this that mercy from above did open violets in the spring -- and made my own worn self to sing? She was. I know. And she is still, and if I love her? then so I will. And I will tell her, and tell her right . . . Oh lovely lady, morning or evening or afternoon. Oh lovely lady, eating with or without a spoon. Oh most lovely lady, whether dressed or undressed or partly. Oh most lovely lady, getting up or going to bed or sitting only. Oh loveliest of ladies, than whom none is more fair, more gracious, more beautiful. Oh loveliest of ladies, whether you are just or unjust, merciful, indifferent, or cruel. Oh most loveliest of ladies, doing whatever, seeing whatever, being whatever. Oh most loveliest of ladies, in rain, in shine, in any weather. Oh lady, grant me time, please, to finish my rhyme. Robert Creeley Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on November 23, 2006, 09:04:41 PM America
America, you ode for reality! Give back the people you took. Let the sun shine again on the four corners of the world you thought of first but do not own, or keep like a convenience. People are your own word, you invented that locus and term. Here, you said and say, is where we are. Give back what we are, these people you made, us, and nowhere but you to be. Robert Creeley Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on November 23, 2006, 09:06:14 PM The Warning
For love-I would split open your head and put a candle in behind the eyes. Love is dead in us if we forget the virtues of an amulet and quick surprise. Robert Creeley Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on November 23, 2006, 09:08:33 PM The Rain
All night the sound had come back again, and again falls this quite, persistent rain. What am I to myself that must be remembered, insisted upon so often? Is it that never the ease, even the hardness, of rain falling will have for me something other than this, something not so insistent-- am I to be locked in this final uneasiness. Love, if you love me, lie next to me. Be for me, like rain, the getting out of the tiredness, the fatuousness, the semi- lust of intentional indifference. Be wet with a decent happiness. Robert Creeley Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on November 25, 2006, 12:40:25 PM Nice poems, sisterofyu. I especially like Ballad of the Despairing Husband and The Rain.
I Do Not Love You... by Pablo Neruda I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way that this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: BangoSkank on November 25, 2006, 06:57:22 PM charles bukowski is one of the greatest i've ever read.
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on November 26, 2006, 06:01:25 PM For Men Who Still Consider Sex A Casual Occasion
It's always lust, whether you have some intention Of making it last or not. But when has the notion of a lasting passion Even entered your mind? And after so many women, Isn't it obvious there's only one You've any business doing this with? Whatever you're looking for-- Harlot, mother, holy sister-- They all end up with the same words on their lips. For even as you reach that other shore behind their eyes, You can feel the questions swimming up after And darting about your ankles Like shy but famished fish: "What is it that you see in me? Am I really the one?" The eyes go on: "I want the moon, you know. Do you think you can give me that? And even as you die inside me Every time you come, Is what I give you back then Enough so you won't resent that? And what of the smiling child Who plays like a shadow about my mouth Whenever you take my hand? In taking my hand, you are making a promise To the ones I have come from as much as to me, And it speaks of all that's in store for us Though most of that you cannot see. After all, I'm dying too-- But not for a love any less than this." Frederic Sibley Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on December 04, 2006, 03:08:20 PM Words
by Sylvia Plath Axes After whose stroke the wood rings, And the echoes! Echoes traveling Off from the center like horses. The sap Wells like tears, like the Water striving To re-establish its mirror Over the rock That drops and turns, A white skull, Eaten by weedy greens. Years later I Encounter them on the road---- Words dry and riderless, The indefatigable hoof-taps. While From the bottom of the pool, fixed stars Govern a life. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on December 05, 2006, 11:58:16 PM Christians
When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not shouting "I'm clean livin'." I'm whispering "I was lost, Now I'm found and forgiven." When I say... "I am a Christian" I don't speak of this with pride. I'm confessing that I stumble and need Christ to be my guide. When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not trying to be strong. I'm professing that I'm weak And need His strength to carry on. When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not bragging of success. I'm admitting I have failed And need God to clean my mess. When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not claiming to be perfect, My flaws are far too visible But, God believes I am worth it. When I say... "I am a Christian" I still feel the sting of pain. I have my share of heartaches So I call upon His name. When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not holier than thou, I'm just a simple sinner Who received God's good grace, somehow - Maya Angelou Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on December 07, 2006, 07:59:53 PM On Children
Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, And though they are with you yet they belong not to you. You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth. The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far. Let our bending in the archer's hand be for gladness; For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He loves also the bow that is stable. Kahlil Gibran Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on December 07, 2006, 08:00:46 PM Christians When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not shouting "I'm clean livin'." I'm whispering "I was lost, Now I'm found and forgiven." When I say... "I am a Christian" I don't speak of this with pride. I'm confessing that I stumble and need Christ to be my guide. When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not trying to be strong. I'm professing that I'm weak And need His strength to carry on. When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not bragging of success. I'm admitting I have failed And need God to clean my mess. When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not claiming to be perfect, My flaws are far too visible But, God believes I am worth it. When I say... "I am a Christian" I still feel the sting of pain. I have my share of heartaches So I call upon His name. When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not holier than thou, I'm just a simple sinner Who received God's good grace, somehow - Maya Angelou keekee very nice...Happy Holidays to you and all the poetry buddies posting in this thread :D Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Axls Rocket Queen on December 10, 2006, 07:34:32 AM Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come. Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead. Put cr?pe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves. He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now: put out every one; Pack up the moon and dismantel the sun; Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood; For nothing now can ever come to any good. W.H. Auden Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on December 17, 2006, 10:12:23 AM Siren Song
by Margaret Atwood This is the one song everyone would like to learn: the song that is irresistible: the song that forces men to leap overboard in squadrons even though they see the beached skulls the song nobody knows because anyone who has heard it is dead, and the others can't remember. Shall I tell you the secret and if I do, will you get me out of this bird suit? I don'y enjoy it here squatting on this island looking picturesque and mythical with these two faethery maniacs, I don't enjoy singing this trio, fatal and valuable. I will tell the secret to you, to you, only to you. Come closer. This song is a cry for help: Help me! Only you, only you can, you are unique at last. Alas it is a boring song but it works every time. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: JohnMorrison73 on December 17, 2006, 08:01:03 PM anything from morrison
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on December 21, 2006, 06:32:43 AM pity this busy monster,manunkind,
not. Progress is a comfortable disease: your victim(death and life safely beyond) plays with the bigness of his littleness --electrons deify one razorblade into a mountainrange;lenses extend unwish through curving wherewhen till unwish returns on its unself. ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? A world of made is not a world of born--pity poor flesh and trees,poor stars and stones,but never this fine specimen of hypermagical ultraomnipotence. We doctors know a hopeless case if--listen:there's a hell of a good universe next door;let's go e.e. cummings 1944 Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on December 23, 2006, 02:11:46 PM The Infinite
It was always dear to me, this solitary hill, and this hedgerow here, that closes out my view, from so much of the ultimate horizon. But sitting here, and watching here, in thought, I create interminable spaces, greater than human silences, and deepest quiet, where the heart barely fails to terrify. When I hear the wind, blowing among these leaves, I go on to compare that infinite silence with this voice, and I remember the eternal and the dead seasons, and the living present, and its sound, so that in this immensity my thoughts are drowned, and shipwreck seems sweet to me in this sea. - Giacomo Leopardi Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: GNRreunioneventually on December 23, 2006, 03:19:09 PM a pussy is a mythical creature
covered and layered in hair look like the face of a preacher smells like the ass of a bear i made that one up. My friends thought it was funny heres one my friend made up while high gose in dry comes out wet the longer its in the better it gets when it comes out it drips and sags stop thinkin sex its a fuckin tea bag! i got many more :yes: Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on December 24, 2006, 04:15:50 PM Oh
It is snowing and death bugs me as stubborn as insomnia. The fierce bubbles of chalk, the little white lesions settle on the street outside. It is snowing and the ninety year old woman who was combing out her long white wraith hair is gone, embalmed even now, even tonight her arms are smooth muskets at her side and nothing issues from her but her last word - "Oh." Surprised by death. It is snowing. Paper spots are falling from the punch. Hello? Mrs. Death is here! She suffers according to the digits of my hate. I hear the filaments of alabaster. I would lie down with them and lift my madness off like a wig. I would lie outside in a room of wool and let the snow cover me. Paris white or flake white or argentine, all in the washbasin of my mouth, calling, "Oh." I am empty. I am witless. Death is here. There is no other settlement. Snow! See the mark, the pock, the pock! Meanwhile you pour tea with your handsome gentle hands. Then you deliberately take your forefinger and point it at my temple, saying, "You suicide bitch! I'd like to take a corkscrew and screw out all your brains and you'd never be back ever." And I close my eyes over the steaming tea and see God opening His teeth. "Oh." He says. I see the child in me writing, "Oh." Oh, my dear, not why. Anne Sexton Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on January 08, 2007, 11:06:23 PM The Tunnel
Tonight, nothing is long enough time isn't Were there a fire it would burn now Were there a heaven I would have gone long ago I think that light is the final image But time reoccurs love -- and an echo A time passes love in the dark - Robert Creeley Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Red_Locks on January 09, 2007, 02:27:57 PM I stole this one from a postsecret website..so whoever wrote it.. : ok: it's not really a poem..but I like it anyway ;)
fuck the poets of the past, my friends. [/i]there are no beautiful suicides just cold corpses with shit in their pants & the end of the gifts. If anyone knows who wrote it..whether there is more..show meeeee 8) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: MCT on January 09, 2007, 10:08:15 PM The Fly
Little Fly, Thy summer's play My thoughtless hand Has brush'd away. Am not I A fly like thee? Or art not thou A man like me? For I dance, And drink, & sing; Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing. If thought is life And strength & breath, And the want Of thought is death; Then am I A happy fly, If I live Or if I die. --William Blake-- Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jessica on January 09, 2007, 10:24:32 PM To My Son
by Baruyr Sevag (1924-1971) * translated from Armenian by Shant Norashkharian * Whether with me, or without me, my dearest one, you will still grow, With my help or without my help, you will someday still understand, The way one must live in this life, the way one must look at this life, The things that are cheap in this world, and the priceless things of this world. Neither do I tolerate nor respect those who lecture to me, I have always abhorred, my son, the flat sermons or the sharp ones. But if I am, my dearest one, now reading a lecture to you, It is only because often, very often in a man's life, If time itself has a large share, the century has a large share, The way he has chosen himself, has no little effect as well. Perhaps like me you will also be surrounded often with this: Often as I looked around me, I felt envy for those people, Whose life passes so easily - as if it were a gravel way, Without any barrier or wall, like a ruler so flat and straight, School and then - soon a Pooh-Bah, influential big bell ringer, And his warm place is then secured...You cannot live in this manner! I would not want, that your life be like that a flat gravel way. Don't pass over the asphalt road, you must prefer to build a road! * * * Live peacefully always with love, but do not flee from suffering; It clears the eye from the eye's dust, it cleans the soul from the soul's rust. One does not die from suffering, but one becomes yet stronger, Later the heart that's recovered will bear its pain more easily. Ah, do not mew! Your father has never endured the ones who mew... It's much better, my son that you water your eyes with bitter tears And continue on your own way. Let it be full of many stones, But if inside your soul there is longing for good, kindness and love, You will not tire, but you will walk and you will rise up the mountain. For that someone needs a spirit, for that there is no need for wings. * * * You must be kind in everything, which kind person died from hunger? There's no exile for what is true - why keep silent against the lies? Yet around us there are people, who bend their waists when it's needed, Who go ranting when it's needed, shut up or smile when it's needed, They point fingers when it's needed...Don't be in life so immature, You, understand, now from this head, do not forget, never, my son: That kindness is only that which never changes no matter what, It has white face; but yet never seven or eight colored linings... * * * Do not complain; you remember? "Days of failure...come but then leave"... Do not complain. If you have been after goodness, reach it yourself... Do not complain, but do not read life as if it were just a book, Just like a book, far from yourself, as if reading about strange men... Be always proud, not arrogant (only vain men are arrogant, Your father used only this way to sort out the wise from the fool). Be proud always like your father, for not ruining anyone's home, For not breaking any kind word, for not jailing any kind mind, That you have walked straight in your life, and if you have heard them often, It is only for the reason that the petty business has thrown In the market often only every kind of trivial rabble, But you have no trivialities, you don't even have fake money... * * * You are still young, you don't know yet, how one must look at life itself. You are still young. When you grow up, and become a mature adult, My advices to you perhaps will seem so old and so useless, Perhaps in life there will not be so many wounds and shortcomings. Ah, may God give! I never dream of anything else in this life (The blind, my son, as you well know, only desires a pair of eyes). My advices, let them be old...the flower dies only that way, When on the tree in the summer it turns to a ripe piece of fruit. For the sake of the coming fire, I am ready to burn today, For the sake of tomorrow's truth, let me today be in error... * * * Translation Copyright 1996 by Shant Norashkharian Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on January 10, 2007, 09:53:19 AM The Windows
by Constantine P. Cavafy In these darkened rooms, where I spend oppresive days, I pace to and fro to find the windows. -- When a window opens, it will be a consolation. -- But the windows cannot be found, or I cannot find them. And maybe it is best that I do not find them. Maybe the light will be a new tyranny. Who knows what new things it will reveal. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Lolita on January 10, 2007, 12:22:11 PM The Enemy
My youth has been nothing but a tenebrous storm Pierced now and then by rays of brilliant sunshine Thunder and rain have wrought so much havoc That very few ripe fruits remain in my garden I have already reached the autumn of my mind And I must set to work with the spade and the rake To gather back the inundated soil In which the rain digs holes as big as graves And who knows whether the new flowers I dream of Will find in this earth washed bare like the strand The mystic aliment that would give them vigor? Alas! Alas! Time eats away our lives And the hidden Enemy who gnaws at our hearts Grows by drawing strength from the blood we lose! - Charles Baudelaire Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: anythinggoes on January 14, 2007, 04:36:53 PM A feast of Friends
Wow, I?m sick of doubt Live in the light of certain South Cruel bindings The servants have the power Dog men and their mean women Pulling poor blankets over our sailors I?m sick of dour faces Staring at me from the T.V. Tower I want roses in my garden bower; dig? Royal babies, rubies Must now replace aborted Strangers in the mud These mutants, blood meal for the plant that?s plowed They are waiting to take us into the severed garden Do you know, how pale and wanton thrillful Comes death in a strange hour Unannounced, unplanned for like a scaring over-friendly guest you?ve brought to bed Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings Where we had shoulders, smooth as ravens claws No more money, no more fancy dress This other kingdom seems by far the best Until it?s other jaw reveals incest And loose obidience to a vegetable law I will not go Prefer a feast of friends To the giant family Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on January 14, 2007, 04:38:32 PM ^^ wow, Morisson
: ok: Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sesor on January 25, 2007, 02:48:42 PM We Sailed Through Endless Skies,
Stars Shined Like Eyes, The Black Night Sighs. The Moon In Silver Trees, Falls Down In Tears, Light Of The Night. The Earth A Purple Blaze, Of Saphire Haze, In Orbital Ways. While Down Below The Trees, Bathed In Cool Breeze, Silver Starlight, Breaks Down From Night. And So We Pass On By, The Crimson Eye, Of Great God Mars, As We Travel The Universe. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sesor on January 25, 2007, 02:51:54 PM Heard it from another room,
Eyes were waking up just to fall asleep, Loves like suicide. Dazed out in a garden bed, With a broken neck lays my broken gift, Just like suicide. And my last ditch, Was my last brick, Lent to finish her, Finish her. Bit down on the bullet now, I had a taste so sour, I had to think of something sweet, Loves like suicide. Safe outside my gilded cage, With an ounce of pain, I wield a ton of rage, Just like suicide. With eyes of blood, And bitter blue, How I feel for you, I feel for you. She lived like a murder, How she'd fly so sweetly. She lived like a murder, But she died, Just like suicide... Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: GnFnR87 on January 25, 2007, 04:32:37 PM Heard it from another room, Eyes were waking up just to fall asleep, Loves like suicide. Dazed out in a garden bed, With a broken neck lays my broken gift, Just like suicide. And my last ditch, Was my last brick, Lent to finish her, Finish her. Bit down on the bullet now, I had a taste so sour, I had to think of something sweet, Loves like suicide. Safe outside my gilded cage, With an ounce of pain, I wield a ton of rage, Just like suicide. With eyes of blood, And bitter blue, How I feel for you, I feel for you. She lived like a murder, How she'd fly so sweetly. She lived like a murder, But she died, Just like suicide... incredible... who wrote this? Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Vicious Wishes on January 25, 2007, 07:53:25 PM A palace you can never see
The Queen who would never be On an empty throne She sits all alone But in her dreams she's always free A castle for a man The King who couldn't stand He's looking for her now He'll find her somehow But his castle's built on sand The King and Queen and everything between A story told of love to me Dream of a life And what could be The King and Queen and everything Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sesor on January 26, 2007, 01:46:16 PM Heard it from another room, Eyes were waking up just to fall asleep, Loves like suicide. Dazed out in a garden bed, With a broken neck lays my broken gift, Just like suicide. And my last ditch, Was my last brick, Lent to finish her, Finish her. Bit down on the bullet now, I had a taste so sour, I had to think of something sweet, Loves like suicide. Safe outside my gilded cage, With an ounce of pain, I wield a ton of rage, Just like suicide. With eyes of blood, And bitter blue, How I feel for you, I feel for you. She lived like a murder, How she'd fly so sweetly. She lived like a murder, But she died, Just like suicide... incredible... who wrote this? me... no only joking lol its a soundgarden song 'Like Suicide'i cant remember which album its on. Superunknown perhaps? Anywho it's a great song. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: pilferk on January 26, 2007, 01:49:05 PM Does "There once was a man from Nantucket" count?
:) Seriously, I'm a fan of pretty much all of Poe's stuff. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: GnFnR87 on January 26, 2007, 02:42:20 PM Heard it from another room, Eyes were waking up just to fall asleep, Loves like suicide. Dazed out in a garden bed, With a broken neck lays my broken gift, Just like suicide. And my last ditch, Was my last brick, Lent to finish her, Finish her. Bit down on the bullet now, I had a taste so sour, I had to think of something sweet, Loves like suicide. Safe outside my gilded cage, With an ounce of pain, I wield a ton of rage, Just like suicide. With eyes of blood, And bitter blue, How I feel for you, I feel for you. She lived like a murder, How she'd fly so sweetly. She lived like a murder, But she died, Just like suicide... incredible... who wrote this? me... no only joking lol its a soundgarden song 'Like Suicide'i cant remember which album its on. Superunknown perhaps? Anywho it's a great song. haha i thought it sounded familar. thanx. that Chris Cornell sure knows how to write awesome lyrics.... Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on January 26, 2007, 03:11:51 PM Does "There once was a man from Nantucket" count? :) Seriously, I'm a fan of pretty much all of Poe's stuff. You should post some of Poe's work then, I have only read "The Raven" ... Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on January 26, 2007, 04:40:49 PM Because
by Sara Teasdale Oh, because you never tried To bow my will or break my pride, And nothing of the cave-man made You want to keep me half afraid, Nor ever with a conquering air You thought to draw me unaware -- Take me, for I love you more Than I ever loved before. And since the body's maidenhood Alone were neither rare nor good Unless with it I gave to you A spirit still untrammeled, too, Take my dreams and take my mind That were masterless as wind; And "Master!" I shall say to you Since you never asked me to. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Vicious Wishes on January 28, 2007, 03:29:52 PM I'm in a prison cell
That I made all alone I layed every brick and set every stone I put up the bars To hold me in I've payed all the guards To keep me from sin But I've sinned anyway I've gone off the path I've lived a bad way And worked at my craft I've gotten so good, I fool everyone else But the best trick I learned Was fooling myself Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sesor on January 28, 2007, 06:26:36 PM Heard it from another room, Eyes were waking up just to fall asleep, Loves like suicide. Dazed out in a garden bed, With a broken neck lays my broken gift, Just like suicide. And my last ditch, Was my last brick, Lent to finish her, Finish her. Bit down on the bullet now, I had a taste so sour, I had to think of something sweet, Loves like suicide. Safe outside my gilded cage, With an ounce of pain, I wield a ton of rage, Just like suicide. With eyes of blood, And bitter blue, How I feel for you, I feel for you. She lived like a murder, How she'd fly so sweetly. She lived like a murder, But she died, Just like suicide... incredible... who wrote this? me... no only joking lol its a soundgarden song 'Like Suicide'i cant remember which album its on. Superunknown perhaps? Anywho it's a great song. haha i thought it sounded familar. thanx. that Chris Cornell sure knows how to write awesome lyrics.... Haha yeah, he sure does =) I just love this song, it's soo...pretty =) and i think the lyrics are brilliant. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on February 03, 2007, 05:16:06 PM This is one of my favourite poems
A Fairly Sad Tale by Dorothy Parker I think that I shall never know Why I am thus, and I am so. Around me, other girls inspire In men the rush and roar of fire, The sweet transparency of glass, The tenderness of April grass, The durability of granite; But me- I don't know how to plan it. The lads I've met in Cupid's deadlock Were- shall we say?- born out of wedlock. They broke my heart, they stilled my song, And said they had to run along, Explaining, so to sop my tears, First came their parents or careers. But ever does experience Deny me wisdom, calm, and sense! Though she's a fool who seeks to capture The twenty-first fine, careless rapture, I must go on, till ends my rope, Who from my birth was cursed with hope. A heart in half is chaste, archaic; But mine resembles a mosaic- The thing's become ridiculous! Why am I so? Why am I thus? Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on February 07, 2007, 12:06:59 PM a poem left
shaped herself in life formed by god and words sleep takes over now I am awake because I see your face in the lines I use letters to write as they form your smile your personality set in pages hearing the news and shedding the dense emotions onto recycled sheets I see you in a phrase from page on the stage behind mics and words shadows cover your thin skin afraid to let everyone see because sight can only unveil so much pain so much joy until you have to just come to terms let go let it all on the line to many people are afraid to tell the truth but you were not, poem you were not afraid your voice over phone lines reciting your heart not everyone can hear the truth listening stops when pain is felt but i feel the pain now... still... I am awake as you fell into sleep you are an unfinished poem still finding yourself in eternity unfinished poem ? for ELLE, Miami by Benjamin Hughes Copyright ? 2005 Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on February 07, 2007, 12:29:07 PM some men some men are islands, separated by water, tho still part of the earth's crust, as it were. still connected, but from a distance, connected by different molecules, water not soil. people contact them, tho, these men separate from the rest by a tenuous at best string of atoms, of matter, or pure energy -kpaul.mallasch Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on February 07, 2007, 12:38:25 PM by Kim Addonizio?
I want a red dress. I want it flimsy and cheap, I want it too tight, I want to wear it until someone tears it off me. I want it sleeveless and backless, this dress, so no one has to guess what's underneath. I want to walk down the street past Thrifty's and the hardware store with all those keys glittering in the window, past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old donuts in their caf?, past the Guerra brothers slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly, hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders. I want to walk like I'm the only woman on earth and I can have my pick. I want that red dress bad. I want it to confirm your worst fears about me, to show you how little I care about you or anything except what I want. When I find it, I'll pull that garment from its hanger like I'm choosing a body to carry me into this world, through the birth-cries and the love-cries too, and I'll wear it like bones, like skin, it'll be the goddamned dress they bury me in Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jessica on February 07, 2007, 07:50:18 PM If I Should Die
by Rupert Brooke If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home. And think, this heart, all evil shed away, A pulse in the eternal mind, no less Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given; Her iights and sounds; dreams happy as her day; And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness, In hearts at peace, under an English heaven. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on February 07, 2007, 09:48:58 PM I want it to confirm your worst fears about me, to show you how little I care about you I like that. The imagery in the poem is strong and provocative. -- Give me back my broken night My mirror'ed room, my secret life Its lonely here Theres no one left to torture Give me absolute control Over every living soul And lie beside me, baby Thats an order! Give me crack and anal sex Take the only tree thats left And stuff it up the hole In your culture Give back the Berlin Wall Give me Stalin and Pt. Paul Ive seen the future, brother It is murder Things are going to slide in all directions Wont be nothing Nothing you can measure anymore The blizzard of the world Has crossed the threshold And it has overturned The order of the soul When they said repent I wonder what they meant When they said repent I wonder what they meant When they said repent I wonder what they meant You dont know me from the wind You never will, you never did Im the little jew Who wrote the bible Ive seen nations rise and fall Ive heard their stories, heard them all But loves the only engine of survival Your servant here, he has been told To say it clear, to say it cold Its over, it aint going Any further And now the wheels of heaven stop You feel the devils riding crop Get ready for the future It is murder There'll be the breaking of the ancient Western code Your private life will suddenly explode Therell be phantoms Therell be fires in the road And the white man dancing You'll see your woman Hanging upside down Her features covered by her fallen gown And all the lousy little poets Coming round Trying to sound like Charlie Manson Give me back the Berlin Wall Give me Stalin and St. Paul Give me Christ Or give me Hiroshima Destroy another fetus now We dont like children anyhow Ive seen the future, baby It is murder LEONARD COHEN Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Axlfreek on February 13, 2007, 11:15:57 AM A winters day
In a deep and dark december; I am alone, Gazing from my window to the streets below On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow. I am a rock, I am an island. Ive built walls, A fortress deep and mighty, That none may penetrate. I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain. Its laughter and its loving I disdain. I am a rock, I am an island. Dont talk of love, But Ive heard the words before; Its sleeping in my memory. I wont disturb the slumber of feelings that have died. If I never loved I never would have cried. I am a rock, I am an island. I have my books And my poetry to protect me; I am shielded in my armor, Hiding in my room, safe within my womb. I touch no one and no one touches me. I am a rock, I am an island. And a rock feels no pain; And an island never cries. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on February 14, 2007, 01:47:50 PM Blue
by May Swenson Blue, but you are Rose, too, and buttermilk, but with blood dots showing through. A little salty your white nape boy-wide. Glinting hairs shoot back of your ears' Rose that tongues like to feel the maze of, slip into the funnel, tell a thunder-whisper to. When I kiss, your eyes' straight lashes down crisp go like doll's blond straws. Glazed iris Roses, your lids unclose to Blue-ringed targets, their dark sheen-spokes almost green. I sink in Blue- black Rose-heart holes until you blink. Pink lips, the serrate folds taste smooth, and Rosehip- round, the center bud I suck. I milknip your two Blue-skeined blown Rose beauties, too, to sniff their berries' blood, up stiff pink tips. You're white in patches, only mostly Rose, buckskin and saltly, speckled like a sky. I love your spots, your white neck, Rose, your hair's wild straw splash, silk spools for your ears. But where white spouts out, spills on your brow to clear eyepools, wheel shafts of light, Rose, you are Blue. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jessica on February 14, 2007, 05:07:38 PM We sued to do alexander technique and voice work on this.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge Kubla Khan In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree : Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round : And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover ! A savage place ! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover ! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced : Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail : And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean : And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war ! The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves ; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves. It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice ! A damsel with a dulcimer In a vision once I saw : It was an Abyssinian maid, And on her dulcimer she played, Singing of Mount Abora. Could I revive within me Her symphony and song, To such a deep delight 'twould win me, That with music loud and long, I would build that dome in air, That sunny dome ! those caves of ice ! And all who heard should see them there, And all should cry, Beware ! Beware ! His flashing eyes, his floating hair ! Weave a circle round him thrice, And close your eyes with holy dread, For he on honey-dew hath fed, And drunk the milk of Paradise. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: the dirt on February 14, 2007, 05:10:57 PM Old Africa
Where am I? It's very dark... I hear my breathing. I manage to see clouds tinted in sunrise or sunset. I place a hand on the ground. Feels like sand and moisture. I could almost smell it. I place another hand down, slowly pushing myself halfway to a kneel. Raising my head and rubbing my eyes... Sunrise. Lions stride across the furthest view Hills rugged, gravelled hues. A step at a time, I watch them lumber from over a peak. They move slowly. I'm beginning to think they know I'm here. Green fervent isles. Terrestrial Mammals and the ever so resting mountains, calm, cool, extinct, miles. Potent greetings from bold bridges of rock. Streems. A wilderness child runs to me from the summit. He sings a song. Protecting what's left; strangers, guests of this ancient land vexed, "Trees bewildered trees send rest Comfort life Dear mother's breast Clutching down the weakened wild Loving at least Anger so mild!" Run away child! run to your home and from the dangers of the African hunt I will resume this desert mile Hot, endless, decrepit and vile Onward the curtains of fever do fall. Through distant mountains, a sunset fireball. Creatures of harm seekfull. I'm unnarmed. Mad drumming. Red dripping hunger. Dancing is a man, Calling on thunder, Unlock the rain! Unlock the rain! Unlock the rain! Armed with spears are a circle of natives. Could it be for something more than feeding those of the tribe? I watch them hidden within a furrow. Could it be an ivory quest? Could they be preparing for ceremony? Could it all be for something that is much more? Maybe to capture and put to rest a killer mammal? They seem excited now. They begin to run. Towards me? I better leave. The hunt begins... There is a distinct shine within the groove. Insect gold mine. Saphir gardens. There are riches beneath the sand. Earth to plunder. What can I carry by hand? I still don't know what's out there. I begin to climb. Raindrops now. Rotting killed meets protruding earth's ground. Slipping beneath the moon's soft gleam, trepid behavior, I call and I scream. Caged suffocation, My skin feels stripped, burnt, sleep that melts manacles. It's getting darker... I have awakened to warmth. The hills and trees are moving past me, vultures and hyenas I leave behind. African gold I did not have time. Moving, Riding? Protected. Sunrise. Moving. Enriched travel. Faster, faster, erected. Emaciated horces three. They were coming to get me. And now on the back of the leading horse. I am marvelled by the upcoming Horizon. Safe. It's quiet. Lions in the distance, feeding off the dead. Vultures in heat, raving, I dread. Where are we headed? Mountain awake. Pottery of face, protecting souls of African dead. Horse keep moving steadily ahead. Love in the eyes that see all. Silent and understood. Violence that never would. How are they alive? These weak bodied horses continue the journey in a determined stride. They carry the burdens of a continent's remorse inside. As the gallop begins to slow and the time becomes erased, the madness defaced, our ride moves past creatures with questions with answers. Up ahead I see a pool of clear water. The horses slow to a halt. and begin to gesture towards its beaty. I slide off the horse and begin to walk. The ground is hot and all this time on horseback I hadn't notices I was barefoot, and more so, I was naked. I can see within the pool's shallow water. I can see the sand at it's bottom, the pebbles and stones too. I step inside, and find it's center. There is no life that I can make out within it. This water so pure. I know this place is sacred. Do I have the right? Then I remember my journey and I regard the horses with love and thanks. Emaciated, sick and weary. These horses saved carried and nursed me. Divine. Dearest to all. They speak to god, with African voice. They brought me here. I am welcomed. I drink from the water, emerge from the pool and sit at the nearest bank. They begin to drink I walk over after they are done and I thank them. I fall asleep at sundown. Goodnight. Bizarre. Awoke in a cave. This warm place. A softbound holding. Heart beating, light seeking. Dear mother unfold me. Mother caress me, I drink your smile. Mother address me, a wilderness child. African gold, send me home African gold, emaciated, old. African gold I was never told about the dawn the night, the wisdom of an awakening, so bright. The rewards of divinity, I understand infinity. Old Africa, Old Africa, unconventional zoo. Old Africa, Old Africa, The world nobody knew... Climbing from the cave, I have arrived again. The air is cool and comfortable. I have spotted a lion. and he has spotted me. We walk past each other. We are free. (C) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on February 14, 2007, 10:28:38 PM Your Strange Transcendence
You'll go to Venice for your 40th, heart large, taking heart from small remunerations for being an original. Some claim you're mad but humility is for the hypocritical. The only problem is meaning to live by spiritual standards in the midst of consumerism reborn as a form of moral admonishment. These silly folk hear profit when you speak of prophet, listen politely as you talk of luminous visitions! "Sing a song," one croons, and you pipe tunes for today: "Nervous Fear Blues," "Jittery Jitterbug," "Bipolarity Rag," and everyone's favorite, "Agoraphobia Mon Amour." Your husband, surrounded by enthusiastic Christians, chatters like Jesus of redemption, dabbles in mesmerism, and discovers oxygen, in too great quantities, makes a body disintegrate. He says, "I have very little of Mrs. Flake's company; she is always in Paradise." This popularity, subtle at first, progresses until your radical ideas are exposed. Now everyone gets you and sales plummet. How bland to accuse misogynists of misogyny! And did you think the remark "that the poor waste their days of Wisdom in Drudgery for a pittance of scant meal" news? Your lineaments, though never classic, mirror a restless and kinetic spirit planning to fact-gather abroad, make sense of the messianic, ramble nude along the Mediterranean magnetically healing with Mr. Flake? will you ever return from this pilgrimage? Travelling all night into mortal life, you cross the main square of a sinking city toward God's golden dome, the crumbling stair Cynthia Hogue Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mr. Redman on February 14, 2007, 10:57:57 PM Unknown Love
By: Almost Famous (C) [Yes, I wrote it] Love, a word that not many know, The true meaning of, Love, a word often misused, By everyone, that doesn't know, What true love is, Some say they do, But it's only been a week, Day, or an hour, You can't love someone, That you don't truely know, Inside n' out. True love, you can tell, When they know you, better then you know yourself, True love, you can tell, When no matter what, You can live n' let live, Cryin' in a puddle, after doing the worst thing, As you're watchin' them walk away, You sit in a puddle, and let it all let loose, They come back, yet they're 4 blocks away, To tell you it's alright, even though you've hurt them, Memories, photographs, time, Can never be replaced, And either can you... Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on February 18, 2007, 08:03:47 PM 'Desiderata' - (desired things)
Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy. - Max Ehrmann Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on February 23, 2007, 11:59:12 PM 'Desiderata' -? (desired things) Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy. - Max Ehrmann This was read at my wedding the 2nd time I got married...keekee :love: Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on February 23, 2007, 11:59:46 PM http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iuTNdHadwbk
neat animated poem by Billy Collins Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on March 06, 2007, 09:07:34 PM These spiritual window-shoppers,
who idly ask, 'How much is that?' Oh, I'm just looking. They handle a hundred items and put them down, shadows with no capital. What is spent is love and two eyes wet with weeping. But these walk into a shop, and their whole lives pass suddenly in that moment, in that shop. Where did you go? "Nowhere." What did you have to eat? "Nothing much." Even if you don't know what you want, buy _something,_ to be part of the exchanging flow. Start a huge, foolish project, like Noah. It makes absolutely no difference what people think of you. - Rumi Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on March 23, 2007, 07:49:42 PM Desire
in my dreams I hold my lovers next to me all at once and ask them what was it I desired? my hands are full of their heads like bunches of cut roses blond hair, brown hair, red, black, their eyes are pools of bewilderment staring up at me from the bouquet what was it I desired? I ask again was it your bodies? did I hope by draping your flesh over me I could escape boredom loneliness gray hairs shooting towards me from the future like thin arrows? did I think I could escape, by taking your breath into my mouth, did I think I could escape the responsibility of breathing? what did I desire in you? sex knowledge? power? love? did I expect the clouds to crack and blue moths to fly out of the stars? did I expect a voice to call to me saying "Here at last is the answer." what I yell at them shaking my lovers what did I desire in you? their ears fall off like petals they shed their faces in a pile at my feet their bewildered eyes pucker and close centers of fallen flowers the last face floats down circling in the darkness at my feet what did I desire in you? I whisper the stems of their bodies dry in my hands -- Mary Mackey Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on March 28, 2007, 10:03:38 PM Ernest Hemingway:
'The Age Demand' The age demanded that we sing And cut away our tongue. The age demanded that we flow And hammered in the bung. The age demanded that we dance And jammed us into iron pants. And in the end the age was handed The sort of shit that it demanded. 'Chapter Heading' For we have thought the longer thoughts And gone the shorter way. And we have danced to devils' tunes, Shivering home to pray; To serve one master in the night, Another in the day. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: AxlsMainMan on March 29, 2007, 08:40:20 AM Sylvia Plath - Balloons
Since Christmas they have lived with us, Guileless and clear, Oval soul-animals, Taking up half the space, Moving and rubbing on the silk Invisible air drifts, Giving a shriek and pop When attacked, then scooting to rest, barely trembling. Yellow cathead, blue fish ---- Such queer moons we live with Instead of dead furniture! Straw mats, white walls And these traveling Globes of thin air, red, green, Delighting The heart like wishes or free Peacocks blessing Old ground with a feather Beaten in starry metals. Your small Brother is making His balloon squeak like a cat. Seeming to see A funny pink world he might eat on the other side of it, He bites, Then sits Back, fat jug Contemplating a world clear as water. A red Shred in his little fist. ;D Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on March 30, 2007, 05:20:00 PM Lovesong
by Ted Hughes He loved her and she loved him His kisses sucked out her whole past and future or tried to He had no other appetite She bit him she gnawed him she sucked She wanted him complete inside her Safe and Sure forever and ever Their little cries fluttered into the curtains Her eyes wanted nothing to get away Her looks nailed down his hands his wrists his elbows He gripped her hard so that life Should not drag her from that moment He wanted all future to cease He wanted to topple with his arms round her Or everlasting or whatever there was Her embrace was an immense press To print him into her bones His smiles were the garrets of a fairy place Where the real world would never come Her smiles were spider bites So he would lie still till she felt hungry His word were occupying armies Her laughs were an assasin's attempts His looks were bullets daggers of revenge Her glances were ghosts in the corner with horrible secrets His whispers were whips and jackboots Her kisses were lawyers steadily writing His caresses were the last hooks of a castaway Her love-tricks were the grinding of locks And their deep cries crawled over the floors Like an animal dragging a great trap His promises were the surgeon's gag Her promises took the top off his skull She would get a brooch made of it His vows pulled out all her sinews He showed her how to make a love-knot At the back of her secret drawer Their screams stuck in the wall Their heads fell apart into sleep like the two halves Of a lopped melon, but love is hard to stop In their entwined sleep they exchanged arms and legs In their dreams their brains took each other hostage In the morning they wore each other's face ***** Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: AxlsMainMan on April 01, 2007, 11:36:44 AM Black Rook In Rainy Weather by Sylvia Plath
On the stiff twig up there Hunches a wet black rook Arranging and rearranging its feathers in the rain. I do not expect a miracle Or an accident To set the sight on fire In my eye, nor seek Any more in the desultory weather some design, But let spotted leaves fall as they fall, Without ceremony, or portent. Although, I admit, I desire, Occasionally, some backtalk From the mute sky, I can't honestly complain: A certain minor light may still Lean incandescent Out of kitchen table or chair As if a celestial burning took Possession of the most obtuse objects now and then -- Thus hallowing an interval Otherwise inconsequent By bestowing largesse, honor, One might say love. At any rate, I now walk Wary (for it could happen Even in this dull, ruinous landscape); skeptical, Yet politic; ignorant Of whatever angel may choose to flare Suddenly at my elbow. I only know that a rook Ordering its black feathers can so shine As to seize my senses, haul My eyelids up, and grant A brief respite from fear Of total neutrality. With luck, Trekking stubborn through this season Of fatigue, I shall Patch together a content Of sorts. Miracles occur, If you care to call those spasmodic Tricks of radiance miracles. The wait's begun again, The long wait for the angel, For that rare, random descent. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: AxlsMainMan on April 02, 2007, 08:24:53 AM Blackberrying - Sylvia Plath
Nobody in the lane, and nothing, nothing but blackberries, Blackberries on either side, though on the right mainly, A blackberry alley, going down in hooks, and a sea Somewhere at the end of it, heaving. Blackberries Big as the ball of my thumb, and dumb as eyes Ebon in the hedges, fat With blue-red juices. These they squander on my fingers. I had not asked for such a blood sisterhood; they must love me. They accommodate themselves to my milkbottle, flattening their sides. Overhead go the choughs in black, cacophonous flocks --- Bits of burnt paper wheeling in a blown sky. Theirs is the only voice, protesting, protesting. I do not think the sea will appear at all. The high, green meadows are glowing, as if lit from within. I come to one bush of berries so ripe it is a bush of flies, Hanging their bluegreen bellies and their wing panes in a Chinese screen. The honey-feast of the berries has stunned them; they believe in heaven. One more hook, and the berries and bushes end. The only thing to come now is the sea. From between two hills a sudden wind funnels at me, Slapping its phantom laundry in my face. These hills are too green and sweet to have tasted salt. I follow the sheep path between them. A last hook brings me To the hills' northern face, and the face is orange rock That looks out on nothing, nothing but a great space Of white and pewter lights, and a din like silversmiths Beating and beating at an intractable metal. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on April 02, 2007, 01:25:09 PM @AxlsMainMan
You really like Plath, don't you? :) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: AxlsMainMan on April 02, 2007, 02:56:58 PM @AxlsMainMan You really like Plath, don't you? :) She's simply the best Mauve_All. I could read her all day :) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on April 02, 2007, 03:18:25 PM @AxlsMainMan You really like Plath, don't you? :) She's simply the best Mauve_All. I could read her all day :) I like Plath as well. Any special reason why you've chosen these particular poems? Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: AxlsMainMan on April 02, 2007, 03:24:38 PM They are simply some of my favorites that are easily appreciated by anyone with a love for poetry, while some of her other poems tend to be rather complex, yet equally intriguing :)
Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on April 02, 2007, 04:51:37 PM One of my most favouite poems by Plath is "Words"
(I've already posted it here, it's on page 13 of this thread) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: AxlsMainMan on April 02, 2007, 05:40:55 PM One of my most favouite poems by Plath is "Words" (I've already posted it here, it's on page 13 of this thread) Great choice! That too is one of my favorite poems by Ms. Plath :) Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Doc Emmett Brown on April 12, 2007, 12:35:12 AM Requiem
When the last living thing has died on account of us, how poetical it would be if Earth could say, in a voice floating up perhaps from the floor of the Grand Canyon, ?It is done.? People did not like it here. ~ RIP Kurt Vonnegut. He passed away today. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Mauve_All on April 29, 2007, 01:52:47 PM Storm Warnings
by Adrienne Rich The glass has been falling all the afternoon, And knowing better than the instrument What winds are walking overhead, what zone Of grey unrest is moving across the land, I leave the book upon a pillowed chair And walk from window to closed window, watching Boughs strain against the sky And think again, as often when the air Moves inward toward a silent core of waiting, How with a single purpose time has travelled By secret currents of the undiscerned Into this polar realm. Weather abroad And weather in the heart alike come on Regardless of prediction. Between foreseeing and averting change Lies all the mastery of elements Which clocks and weatherglasses cannot alter. Time in the hand is not control of time, Nor shattered fragments of an instrument A proof against the wind; the wind will rise, We can only close the shutters. I draw the curtains as the sky goes black And set a match to candles sheathed in glass Against the keyhole draught, the insistent whine Of weather through the unsealed aperture. This is our sole defence against the season; These are the things we have learned to do Who live in troubled regions. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: journey on May 05, 2007, 12:44:08 AM 'Being You'
I left me in a box of you in the skin of you like ink like art all falling down your curves like water like ivy to the pillars reach to loiter a ghost in your cellar. I spoke my name to live in your ear to echo in the canyons roam and roaming so very far from home to born again from the launch of your tongue if just to pass your lips once more. - Stephen G. Colvin - http://www.myspace.com/alarond? Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: norway on May 05, 2007, 07:25:27 PM Feast of friends with Jim Morrison
Wow, I'm sick of doubt Live in the light of certain South Cruel bindings. The servants have the power dog-men and their mean women pulling poor blankets over our sailors I'm sick of dour faces Staring at me from the TV Tower, I want roses in my garden bower; dig? Royal babies, rubies must now replace aborted Strangers in the mud These mutants, blood-meal for the plant that's plowed. They are waiting to take us into the severed garden Do you know how pale and wanton thrillful comes death on a strange hour unannounced, unplanned for like a scaring over-friendly guest you've brought to bed Death makes angels of us all and gives us wings where we had shoulders smooth as raven's claws No more money, no more fancy dress This other kingdom seems by far the best until it's other jaw reveals incest and loose obedience to a vegetable law. I will not go Prefer a Feast of Friends To the Giant Family. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sesor on May 09, 2007, 12:29:45 PM In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree : Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? -Down to a sunless sea. So twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round : And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills, Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree ; And here were forests ancient as the hills, Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. But oh ! that deep romantic chasm which slanted Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover ! A savage place ! as holy and enchanted As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted By woman wailing for her demon-lover ! And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, A mighty fountain momently was forced : Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail : And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever It flung up momently the sacred river. Five miles meandering with a mazy motion Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, Then reached the caverns measureless to man, And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean : And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far Ancestral voices prophesying war ! The shadow of the dome of pleasure Floated midway on the waves ; Where was heard the mingled measure From the fountain and the caves. It was a miracle of rare device, A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice ! Samuel Taylor Coleridge Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on December 23, 2007, 11:21:05 PM I Will Not
I will bury myself under sands that do not weaken, I will try so hard not to break as though I've been beaten, I will not let you see me in closedown motion, I will not abandon me even though I want too sometimes, I will not discard myself over others failed doings, I will not punish me for acts of God I cannot reason, I will not lease my heart out to those who will only scratch it's surface, I will not set myself up for times of incompletion, I will not lose a battle that I should of been the winner, I will always try my upmost to stop myself from running, I will always keep myself from times of greatness, I will always let me indulge in days of utter weakness. Tom Earle Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on December 23, 2007, 11:34:21 PM Do I Love You?
I wanna say I love you more Than anyone else But i cant I wanna say I love you more Than you love me Then i look at How much you love me And i feel like I dont love you silent for ever more Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: AxlsMainMan on December 26, 2007, 11:55:53 PM Candles
They are the last romantics, these candles: Upside-down hearts of light tipping wax fingers, And the fingers, taken in by their own haloes, Grown milky, almost clear, like the bodies of saints. It is touching, the way they'll ignore A whole family of prominent objects Simply to plumb the deeps of an eye In its hollow of shadows, its fringe of reeds, And the owner past thirty, no beauty at all. Daylight would be more judicious, Giving everybody a fair hearing. They should have gone out with the balloon flights and the stereopticon. This is no time for the private point of view. When I light them, my nostrils prickle. Their pale, tentative yellows Drag up false, Edwardian sentiments, And I remember my maternal grandmother from Vienna. As a schoolgirl she gave roses to Franz Josef. The burghers sweated and wept. The children wore white. And my grandfather moped in the Tyrol, Imagining himself a headwaiter in America, Floating in a high-church hush Among ice buckets, frosty napkins. These little globes of light are sweet as pears. Kindly with invalids and mawkish women, They mollify the bald moon. Nun-souled, they burn heavenward and never marry. The eyes of the child I nurse are scarcely open. In twenty years I shall be retrograde As these drafty ephemerids. I watch their spilt tears cloud and dull to pearls. How shall I tell anything at all To this infant still in a birth-drowse? Tonight, like a shawl, the mild light enfolds her, The shadows stoop over the guests at a christening. - Sylvia Plath Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Megaguns on December 27, 2007, 07:39:46 AM one clear day in the middle of the night
two dead men got up to fight back to back they faced each other drew their swords and shot each other. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Megaguns on December 27, 2007, 07:47:47 AM In the steammy, sensual rivercave of my mind
I stumble, I stagger, I stammer Like some crazy South Korean circus clown Lost, lonely, lifeless, laconically lazy Marooned, marooned I'm on a lagoon I am an island I am an isthmus I come from Bermuda I don't believe in christmas look out oh sinister holy man look out oh righteous Bolshevik I care no longer for your petty problems I make my own decisions now Today I laugh, I joke, I chitter chatter chitter But tomorrow, tomorrow I go to Phillip Island Here it is being done by the man himself...... brilliance http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AlmH5lCh8vs Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: JMack on December 27, 2007, 08:00:59 AM Rain is raining all around
It falls on field and tree It falls on umbrellas near and on the ships at sea. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on December 28, 2007, 10:08:36 PM Drunk as Drunk
Drunk as drunk on turpentine From your open kisses, Your wet body wedged Between my wet body and the strake Of our boat that is made of flowers, Feasted, we guide it - our fingers Like tallows adorned with yellow metal - Over the sky's hot rim, The day's last breath in our sails. Pinned by the sun between solstice And equinox, drowsy and tangled together We drifted for months and woke With the bitter taste of land on our lips, Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime And the sound of a rope Lowering a bucket down its well. Then, We came by night to the Fortunate Isles, And lay like fish Under the net of our kisses. Pablo Neruda Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: von on December 28, 2007, 10:54:01 PM "When We Two Parted"
When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted To sever for years, Pale grew thy cheek and cold, Colder thy kiss; Truly that hour foretold Sorrow to this. The dew of the morning Sunk chill on my brow-- It felt like the warning Of what I feel now. Thy vows are all broken, And light is thy fame: I hear thy name spoken, And share in its shame. They name thee before me, A knell to mine ear; A shudder comes o'er me-- Why wert thou so dear? They know not I knew thee, Who knew thee too well: Long, long shall I rue thee, Too deeply to tell. In secret we met-- In silence I grieve, That thy heart could forget, Thy spirit deceive. If I should meet thee After long years, How should I greet thee? With silence and tears. Lord Byron Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: AxlsMainMan on December 30, 2007, 10:09:15 AM Cut
What a thrill --- My thumb instead of an onion. The top quite gone Except for a sort of a hinge Of skin, A flap like a hat, Dead white. Then that red plush. Little pilgrim, The Indian's axed your scalp. Your turkey wattle Carpet rolls Straight from the heart. I step on it, Clutching my bottle Of pink fizz. A celebration, this is. Out of a gap A million soldiers run, Redcoats, every one. Whose side are they on? O my Homunculus, I am ill. I have taken a pill to kill The thin Papery feeling. Saboteur, Kamikaze man --- The stain on your Gauze Ku Klux Klan Babushka Darkens and tarnishes and when The balled Pulp of your heart Confronts its small Mill of silence How you jump --- Trepanned veteran, Dirty girl, Thumb stump. - Sylvia Plath Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on December 30, 2007, 11:36:26 AM Cut What a thrill --- My thumb instead of an onion. The top quite gone Except for a sort of a hinge Of skin, A flap like a hat, Dead white. Then that red plush. Little pilgrim, The Indian's axed your scalp. Your turkey wattle Carpet rolls Straight from the heart. I step on it, Clutching my bottle Of pink fizz. A celebration, this is. Out of a gap A million soldiers run, Redcoats, every one. Whose side are they on? O my Homunculus, I am ill. I have taken a pill to kill The thin Papery feeling. Saboteur, Kamikaze man --- The stain on your Gauze Ku Klux Klan Babushka Darkens and tarnishes and when The balled Pulp of your heart Confronts its small Mill of silence How you jump --- Trepanned veteran, Dirty girl, Thumb stump. - Sylvia Plath chilling Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: AxlsMainMan on December 30, 2007, 01:17:12 PM Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jessica on January 03, 2008, 08:43:32 PM I wrote too much on Plath and Wolf , i got nice A+'s on the things i wrote on them but their personal lives took their toll on me and i was far too depressed to want to read their work.
Here, it is not a poem but lyrics, all the same, one of my favs : Silver tongue/Deep Purple Well I'm standing here on moving station All the world is traveling by To strange outlandish destinations There they go, I wonder why may be crazy But I'm no stupid I get along I use my silver tongue You know I can dream in any language Flying on my magic bed And I don't need to work my passage All I do is use my head I may be crazy But I'm no stupid Sometimes I ramble Then I'm Lucid I might seem lazy But I'm hurting no-one I get along I use my silver tongue I know exactly what you're thinking But you don't know what's in my mind You went too fast and now your sinking Because you forgot to read the signs Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on January 06, 2008, 12:16:41 PM Cigarettes And Whiskey And Wild, Wild Women
Anne Sexton (from a song) Perhaps I was born kneeling, born coughing on the long winter, born expecting the kiss of mercy, born with a passion for quickness and yet, as things progressed, I learned early about the stockade or taken out, the fume of the enema. By two or three I learned not to kneel, not to expect, to plant my fires underground where none but the dolls, perfect and awful, could be whispered to or laid down to die. Now that I have written many words, and let out so many loves, for so many, and been altogether what I always was? a woman of excess, of zeal and greed, I find the effort useless. Do I not look in the mirror, these days, and see a drunken rat avert her eyes? Do I not feel the hunger so acutely that I would rather die than look into its face? I kneel once more, in case mercy should come in the nick of time. I miss Journey where is she?....keekee :( Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on January 06, 2008, 12:44:52 PM Killing The Love
Anne Sexton I am the love killer, I am murdering the music we thought so special, that blazed between us, over and over. I am murdering me, where I kneeled at your kiss. I am pushing knives through the hands that created two into one. Our hands do not bleed at this, they lie still in their dishonor. I am taking the boats of our beds and swamping them, letting them cough on the sea and choke on it and go down into nothing. I am stuffing your mouth with your promises and watching you vomit them out upon my face. The Camp we directed? I have gassed the campers. Now I am alone with the dead, flying off bridges, hurling myself like a beer can into the wastebasket. I am flying like a single red rose, leaving a jet stream of solitude and yet I feel nothing, though I fly and hurl, my insides are empty and my face is as blank as a wall. Shall I call the funeral director? He could put our two bodies into one pink casket, those bodies from before, and someone might send flowers, and someone might come to mourn and it would be in the obits, and people would know that something died, is no more, speaks no more, won't even drive a car again and all of that. When a life is over, the one you were living for, where do you go? I'll work nights. I'll dance in the city. I'll wear red for a burning. I'll look at the Charles very carefully, wearing its long legs of neon. And the cars will go by. The cars will go by. And there'll be no scream from the lady in the red dress dancing on her own Ellis Island, who turns in circles, dancing alone as the cars go by. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: AxlsMainMan on January 06, 2008, 11:25:10 PM Gigolo
Pocket watch, I tick well. The streets are lizardy crevices Sheer-sided, with holes where to hide. It is best to meet in a cul-de-sac, A palace of velvet With windows of mirrors. There one is safe, There are no family photographs, No rings through the nose, no cries. Bright fish hooks, the smiles of women Gulp at my bulk And I, in my snazzy blacks, Mill a litter of breasts like jellyfish. To nourish The cellos of moans I eat eggs - Eggs and fish, the essentials, The aphrodisiac squid. My mouth sags, The mouth of Christ When my engine reaches the end of it. The tattle of my Gold joints, my way of turning Bitches to ripples of silver Rolls out a carpet, a hush. And there is no end, no end of it. I shall never grow old. New oysters Shriek in the sea and I Glitter like Fontainebleau Gratified, All the fall of water and eye Over whose pool I tenderly Lean and see me. - Sylvia Plath Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: AxlsMainMan on January 18, 2008, 06:15:07 PM Tale of a Tub
The photographic chamber of the eye records bare painted walls, while an electric light lays the chromium nerves of plumbing raw; such poverty assaults the ego; caught naked in the merely actual room, the stranger in the lavatory mirror puts on a public grin, repeats our name but scrupulously reflects the usual terror. Just how guilty are we when the ceiling reveals no cracks that can be decoded? when washbowl maintains it has no more holy calling than physical ablution, and the towel dryly disclaims that fierce troll faces lurk in its explicit folds? or when the window, blind with steam, will not admit the dark which shrouds our prospects in ambiguous shadow? Twenty years ago, the familiar tub bred an ample batch of omens; but now water faucets spawn no danger; each crab and octopus--scrabbling just beyond the view, waiting for some accidental break in ritual, to strike--is definitely gone; the authentic sea denies them and will pluck fantastic flesh down to the honest bone. We take the plunge; under water our limbs waver, faintly green, shuddering away from the genuine color of skin; can our dreams ever blur the intransigent lines which draw the shape that shuts us in? absolute fact intrudes even when the revolted eye is closed; the tub exists behind our back; its glittering surfaces are blank and true. Yet always the ridiculous nude flanks urge the fabrication of some cloth to cover such starkness; accuracy must not stalk at large: each day demands we create our whole world over, disguising the constant horror in a coat of many-colored fictions; we mask our past in the green of eden, pretend future's shining fruit can sprout from the navel of this present waste. In this particular tub, two knees jut up like icebergs, while minute brown hairs rise on arms and legs in a fringe of kelp; green soap navigates the tidal slosh of seas breaking on legendary beaches; in faith we shall board our imagined ship and wildly sail among sacred islands of the mad till death shatters the fabulous stars and makes us real. - Sylvia Plath Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on January 18, 2008, 07:28:30 PM Tale of a Tub The photographic chamber of the eye records bare painted walls, while an electric light lays the chromium nerves of plumbing raw; such poverty assaults the ego; caught naked in the merely actual room, the stranger in the lavatory mirror puts on a public grin, repeats our name but scrupulously reflects the usual terror. Just how guilty are we when the ceiling reveals no cracks that can be decoded? when washbowl maintains it has no more holy calling than physical ablution, and the towel dryly disclaims that fierce troll faces lurk in its explicit folds? or when the window, blind with steam, will not admit the dark which shrouds our prospects in ambiguous shadow? Twenty years ago, the familiar tub bred an ample batch of omens; but now water faucets spawn no danger; each crab and octopus--scrabbling just beyond the view, waiting for some accidental break in ritual, to strike--is definitely gone; the authentic sea denies them and will pluck fantastic flesh down to the honest bone. We take the plunge; under water our limbs waver, faintly green, shuddering away from the genuine color of skin; can our dreams ever blur the intransigent lines which draw the shape that shuts us in? absolute fact intrudes even when the revolted eye is closed; the tub exists behind our back; its glittering surfaces are blank and true. Yet always the ridiculous nude flanks urge the fabrication of some cloth to cover such starkness; accuracy must not stalk at large: each day demands we create our whole world over, disguising the constant horror in a coat of many-colored fictions; we mask our past in the green of eden, pretend future's shining fruit can sprout from the navel of this present waste. In this particular tub, two knees jut up like icebergs, while minute brown hairs rise on arms and legs in a fringe of kelp; green soap navigates the tidal slosh of seas breaking on legendary beaches; in faith we shall board our imagined ship and wildly sail among sacred islands of the mad till death shatters the fabulous stars and makes us real. - Sylvia Plath Im loving this one !!!.... Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jessica on January 19, 2008, 08:51:23 PM Some of my fav shakespeare sonnets, especially the last one.
XIII O! that you were your self; but, love, you are No longer yours, than you your self here live: Against this coming end you should prepare, And your sweet semblance to some other give: So should that beauty which you hold in lease Find no determination; then you were Yourself again, after yourself's decease, When your sweet issue your sweet form should bear. Who lets so fair a house fall to decay, Which husbandry in honour might uphold, Against the stormy gusts of winter's day And barren rage of death's eternal cold? O! none but unthrifts. Dear my love, you know, You had a father: let your son say so. XXIII As an unperfect actor on the stage, Who with his fear is put beside his part, Or some fierce thing replete with too much rage, Whose strength's abundance weakens his own heart; So I, for fear of trust, forget to say The perfect ceremony of love's rite, And in mine own love's strength seem to decay, O'ercharg'd with burthen of mine own love's might. O! let my looks be then the eloquence And dumb presagers of my speaking breast, Who plead for love, and look for recompense, More than that tongue that more hath more express'd. O! learn to read what silent love hath writ: To hear with eyes belongs to love's fine wit. LXXI No longer mourn for me when I am dead Than you shall hear the surly sullen bell Give warning to the world that I am fled From this vile world with vilest worms to dwell: Nay, if you read this line, remember not The hand that writ it, for I love you so, That I in your sweet thoughts would be forgot, If thinking on me then should make you woe. O! if, I say, you look upon this verse, When I perhaps compounded am with clay, Do not so much as my poor name rehearse; But let your love even with my life decay; Lest the wise world should look into your moan, And mock you with me after I am gone. Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Jessica on January 19, 2008, 08:56:28 PM Since few people on the forum have in interest in theatre, i may as well post what i like in poetry :
HENRY VIII William Shakespeare ( did this one lol) KATHERINE: Sir, I desire you do me right and justice, And to bestow your pity on me; for I am a most poor woman and a stranger, Born out of your dominions: having here No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir, In what have I offended you? What cause Hath my behavior given to your displeasure That thus you should proceed to put me off And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness, I have been to you a true and humble wife, At all times to your will conformable, Even in fear to kindle your dislike, Yea, subject to your countenance--glad or sorry As I saw it inclined. When was the hour I ever contradicted your desire Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends Have I not strove to love, although I knew He were mine enemy? What friend of mine That had to him derived your anger, did I Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice He was from thence discharged? Sir, call to mind That I have been your wife in this obedience Upward of twenty years, and have been blest With many children by you. If in the course And process of this time you can report, And prove it too, against mine honor aught, My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty Against your sacred person, in God's name Turn me away, and let the foul'st contempt Shut door upon me, and so give me up To the sharp'st kind of justice. Please you, sir, The king your father was reputed for A prince most prudent, of an excellent And unmatched wit and judgment. Ferdinand, My father, King of Spain, was reckoned one The wisest prince that there had reigned by many A year before. It is not to be questioned That they had gathered a wise council to them Of every realm, that did debate this business, Who deemed our marriage lawful. Wherefore I humbly Beseech you, sir, to spare me till I may Be by my friends in Spain advised, whose counsel I will implore. If not, i' th' name of God, Your pleasure be fulfilled! Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: AxlsMainMan on January 19, 2008, 10:48:59 PM Pheasant
You said you would kill it this morning. Do not kill it. It startles me still, The jut of that odd, dark head, pacing Through the uncut grass on the elm's hill. It is something to own a pheasant, Or just to be visited at all. I am not mystical : it isn't As if I thought it had a spirit. It is simply in its element. That gives it a kingliness, a right. The print of its big foot last winter, The tail-track, on the snow in our court- The wonder of it, in that pallor, Through crosshatch of sparrow and starling. Is it its rareness, then? It is rare. But a dozen would be worth having, A hundred, on that hill - green and red, Crossing and recrossing : a fine thing! It is such a good shape, so vivid. It's a little cornucopia. It unclaps, brown as a leaf, and loud, Settles in the elm, and is easy. It was sunning in the narcissi. I trespass stupidly. Let be, let be. - Sylvia Plath Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: sisterofyu on January 20, 2008, 11:50:03 PM I'm very lonely, Im very lonely, So lonely I'm I, So lonely, That I thought of metaphysic's, So lonely that I thought, I sit boredom, Is metaphysics a sense of boredom, So lonely like the moon, Is it because other's are hell, ? So lonely like the sun, Is it because of no man to trust, ? Very lonely, So lonely, That I can only trust the earthly volition, So lonely, That these people Increased my afflctions and agony, So lonely that I think of the official thought's, Is time so Official that it gave us another chance to survive.? Egoism and vicissitude's, Don't take me there, Take me here, No where are we going, ? Do we human's really know where we be going, ? Or are we just guessing and living it up. ''maxim''(MaxRahim) muyu Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: AxlsMainMan on September 04, 2008, 02:19:32 PM The Hanging Man
By the roots of my hair some god got hold of me. I sizzled in his blue volts like a desert prophet. The nights snapped out of sight like a lizard's eyelid : A world of bald white days in a shadeless socket. A vulturous boredom pinned me in this tree. If he were I, he would do what I did. (http://img119.imageshack.us/img119/6389/99794260nq9.png) - Sylvia Plath Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Albert S Miller on June 12, 2009, 01:16:02 AM Not so much a favorite, but I was dining out last weekend and this was presented in a guide provided to customers. It's a great brain teaser if anything..
Family Loop Many, many years ago When I was twenty three, I got married to a widow, Pretty as could be. This widow had a grown-up daughter With flowing hair of red. My father fell in love with her, And soon the two were wed. This made my dad my son-in-law And changed my very life. Now my daughter was my mother, For she was my father's wife. To complicate the matters worse, Although it brought me joy. I soon became the father Of a bouncing baby boy. My little baby then became A brother-in-law to dad. And so became my uncle, Though it made me very sad. For if he was my uncle, Then that also made him brother To the widow's grown-up-daughter Who, of course, was my step -mother. Father's wife then had a son, Who kept them on the run. And he became my grandson, For he was my daughters son. My wife is now my mother's mother And it makes me blue. Because, although she is my wife, She's my grandma too. If my wife is my grandmother, Then I am her grandchild. And every time I think of it, It simply drives me wild. For now I have become The strangest case you ever saw. As the husband of my grandmother, I AM MY OWN GRANDPA! author unknown Title: Re: Your Favorite Poems Post by: Shutupandsing on June 12, 2009, 08:25:05 AM Anything by William Blake, Lord Byron, like Sylvia Plath
but she sticks in my head a bit as did "The Bell Jar" that book was disturbing, I found it hard to shake out of my head. I like Samuel Coleridge as well-his laudinum influenced poetry speaks volumes. For lighter moments Lewis Carrol...or e.e. cummings "the balloon man" it's funny to me he is decribing Pan aka Dionysus.."the goat footed balloon man" great stuff. |