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Thread: ~ A Poetry Thread ~

  1. #301  
    Theatre Whore babe's Avatar
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    How do you cool your lips, after a summer's kiss?
    How do you rid the sweat, after the body bliss?
    How do you turn your eyes, from the romantic glare?
    How do you block the sound of a voice
    You'd know anywhere?

    Oh, I really should've known
    By the time you drove me home
    By the vagueness in your eyes, your casual goodbyes
    By the chill in your embrace
    The expression on your face that told me
    Maybe you might have some advice to give
    On how to be insensitive
    Insensitive
    Insensitive

    How do you numb your skin, after the warmest touch?
    How do you slow your blood, after the body rush?
    How do you free your soul, after you've found a friend?
    How do you teach your heart it's a crime to fall in love again?

    Oh, you probably won't remember me
    It's probably ancient history
    I'm one of the chosen few
    Who went ahead and fell for you
    I'm out of vogue, I'm out of touch
    I fell too fast, I feel too much
    I thought that you might have some advice to give
    On how to be insensitive

    Oh, I really should've known
    By the time you drove me home
    By the vagueness in your eyes, your casual goodbyes
    By the chill in your embrace
    The expression on your face that told me
    Maybe you might have some advice to give
    On how to be insensitive .
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  2. #302  
    Forum Professor pyoko's Avatar
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    Hi, fellow sciency people. I present to you my poem:

    ELEPHANT ELEPHANT WHAT'S YOUR NAME?
    ELEPHANT ELEPHANT PLAY A GAME
    YOU DO A KAKA AND I DO A POO
    I BET I HAVE A LOT MORE THAN YOU
    It is by will alone I set my mind in motion.
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  3. #303  
    Forum Radioactive Isotope zinjanthropos's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by babe View Post
    How do you cool your lips, after a summer's kiss?
    How do you rid the sweat, after the body bliss?
    How do you turn your eyes, from the romantic glare?
    How do you block the sound of a voice
    You'd know anywhere?

    Oh, I really should've known
    By the time you drove me home
    By the vagueness in your eyes, your casual goodbyes
    By the chill in your embrace
    The expression on your face that told me
    Maybe you might have some advice to give
    On how to be insensitive
    Insensitive
    Insensitive

    How do you numb your skin, after the warmest touch?
    How do you slow your blood, after the body rush?
    How do you free your soul, after you've found a friend?
    How do you teach your heart it's a crime to fall in love again?

    Oh, you probably won't remember me
    It's probably ancient history
    I'm one of the chosen few
    Who went ahead and fell for you
    I'm out of vogue, I'm out of touch
    I fell too fast, I feel too much
    I thought that you might have some advice to give
    On how to be insensitive

    Oh, I really should've known
    By the time you drove me home
    By the vagueness in your eyes, your casual goodbyes
    By the chill in your embrace
    The expression on your face that told me
    Maybe you might have some advice to give
    On how to be insensitive .
    Nice Babe. I take it that you wrote this.
    All that belongs to human understanding, in this deep ignorance and obscurity, is to be skeptical, or at least cautious; and not to admit of any hypothesis, whatsoever; much less, of any which is supported by no appearance of probability...Hume
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  4. #304  
    Northern Horse Whisperer Moderator scheherazade's Avatar
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    Actually, these are the lyrics of Jann Arden's song 'Insensitve'.

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  5. #305  
    Theatre Whore babe's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by zinjanthropos View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by babe View Post
    How do you cool your lips, after a summer's kiss?
    How do you rid the sweat, after the body bliss?
    How do you turn your eyes, from the romantic glare?
    How do you block the sound of a voice
    You'd know anywhere?

    Oh, I really should've known
    By the time you drove me home
    By the vagueness in your eyes, your casual goodbyes
    By the chill in your embrace
    The expression on your face that told me
    Maybe you might have some advice to give
    On how to be insensitive
    Insensitive
    Insensitive

    How do you numb your skin, after the warmest touch?
    How do you slow your blood, after the body rush?
    How do you free your soul, after you've found a friend?
    How do you teach your heart it's a crime to fall in love again?

    Oh, you probably won't remember me
    It's probably ancient history
    I'm one of the chosen few
    Who went ahead and fell for you
    I'm out of vogue, I'm out of touch
    I fell too fast, I feel too much
    I thought that you might have some advice to give
    On how to be insensitive

    Oh, I really should've known
    By the time you drove me home
    By the vagueness in your eyes, your casual goodbyes
    By the chill in your embrace
    The expression on your face that told me
    Maybe you might have some advice to give
    On how to be insensitive .
    Nice Babe. I take it that you wrote this.
    I didn't......but it spoke to me.

    Much of my poetry, well what is left after my bag was stolen is on the Mainland.
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  6. #306  
    Theatre Whore babe's Avatar
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    NIGHT

    Sara Teasdale

    Stars over snow
    And in h west a planet'
    Swing below a star----
    Look for a lovely thing an you will find .
    It is not far---
    It never will be far.
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  7. #307  
    Forum Radioactive Isotope zinjanthropos's Avatar
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    [QUOTE=scheherazade;530870]Actually, these are the lyrics of Jann Arden's song 'Insensitve'.

    She's a fellow Canuck I think. Shows you just how much I pay attention to the music scene. I have no favorites, nor do I care who sings, as long as it sounds good. Music lyrics are poetry. I wonder if any of Sara Teasdale's have been put to music.
    All that belongs to human understanding, in this deep ignorance and obscurity, is to be skeptical, or at least cautious; and not to admit of any hypothesis, whatsoever; much less, of any which is supported by no appearance of probability...Hume
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  8. #308  
    Theatre Whore babe's Avatar
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    [QUOTE=zinjanthropos;530977]
    Quote Originally Posted by scheherazade View Post
    Actually, these are the lyrics of Jann Arden's song 'Insensitve'.

    She's a fellow Canuck I think. Shows you just how much I pay attention to the music scene. I have no favorites, nor do I care who sings, as long as it sounds good. Music lyrics are poetry. I wonder if any of Sara Teasdale's have been put to music.
    I don't know.

    Her poem's aren't really long enough to be lyrical.

    I do know that those lyrics of Jann Arden, spoke to me.......and Sara...always speaks to me......
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  9. #309  
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    The Cross Road
    By Stargate

    The tide is turning and I am yearning
    For the days to be shortened
    And returned to times of conscious sanity,
    Not tainted by vanity.
    How did I get here in this place of solitude?
    Alone and ignorant of what was meant to be,
    Unable to see
    I was cautious in making my steps, so I thought,
    Yet life was not on the same page, even at my age
    To deliver me from the depth of my rage
    As I try to reach the cross roads.

    Love was not enough to straighten the narrow bend
    As we have been told it conquers all in the end
    I still do not know what I did wrong
    To deserve the pain that has been taking so long
    In dissipating into the cosmic breeze
    Why have I been so dumb not to realize
    That I have missed the word to the wise
    Did I not know Fools rush in where wise ones do not enter?
    I as arrogant as can be did not know the flow
    That nothing was promised to no man, or woman
    As I journey to the cross roads.

    Now I am here and know not where to turn
    Blinded from the struggle and the baggage of trust
    I hid in the wrong place, now gone without a trace
    What did I think I wanted when I chose to follow the light?
    Could I not see in the dark and panicked into fright?
    Did I not trust myself enough to recognize sincerity?
    Or follow my heart to the port of destiny
    Why are we so foolish to believe we can escape the inevitable?
    Life owes not, nor does it borrows, it cares not about a kindred
    Mind, but holds integrity and dignity, and is very kind.
    I have reached the cross roads.

    Here I am, I know that I must make it through the night
    And realize the fight is no longer for the brave, nor the
    Battle for the swift, but for he that endured to the end my friend
    If I am to continue to the morning I must trust myself
    I must enter the gates with presents and humility
    I must set the pace for therein lies my peace of mind
    I may not admit it but I am one of a kind
    I have fought the great fight and journeyed to the end
    Where I must make a choice to defend where I stand
    Gazing at the sun going nowhere to the crossroads.
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  10. #310  
    Forum Radioactive Isotope zinjanthropos's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by babe View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by zinjanthropos View Post
    I wonder if any of Sara Teasdale's have been put to music.
    I don't know.

    Her poem's aren't really long enough to be lyrical.

    I do know that those lyrics of Jann Arden, spoke to me.......and Sara...always speaks to me......
    Jim Colyer's lyrics speak to me, they keep saying, 'If you think these lyrics are bad, just wait until you hear them put to music".
    Last edited by zinjanthropos; February 27th, 2014 at 07:54 PM.
    babe likes this.
    All that belongs to human understanding, in this deep ignorance and obscurity, is to be skeptical, or at least cautious; and not to admit of any hypothesis, whatsoever; much less, of any which is supported by no appearance of probability...Hume
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  11. #311  
    ...matter and pixie dust wegs's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Stargate View Post
    The Cross Road
    By Stargate

    The tide is turning and I am yearning
    For the days to be shortened
    And returned to times of conscious sanity,
    Not tainted by vanity.
    How did I get here in this place of solitude?
    Alone and ignorant of what was meant to be,
    Unable to see
    I was cautious in making my steps, so I thought,
    Yet life was not on the same page, even at my age
    To deliver me from the depth of my rage
    As I try to reach the cross roads.

    Love was not enough to straighten the narrow bend
    As we have been told it conquers all in the end
    I still do not know what I did wrong
    To deserve the pain that has been taking so long
    In dissipating into the cosmic breeze
    Why have I been so dumb not to realize
    That I have missed the word to the wise
    Did I not know Fools rush in where wise ones do not enter?
    I as arrogant as can be did not know the flow
    That nothing was promised to no man, or woman
    As I journey to the cross roads.

    Now I am here and know not where to turn
    Blinded from the struggle and the baggage of trust
    I hid in the wrong place, now gone without a trace
    What did I think I wanted when I chose to follow the light?
    Could I not see in the dark and panicked into fright?
    Did I not trust myself enough to recognize sincerity?
    Or follow my heart to the port of destiny
    Why are we so foolish to believe we can escape the inevitable?
    Life owes not, nor does it borrows, it cares not about a kindred
    Mind, but holds integrity and dignity, and is very kind.
    I have reached the cross roads.

    Here I am, I know that I must make it through the night
    And realize the fight is no longer for the brave, nor the
    Battle for the swift, but for he that endured to the end my friend
    If I am to continue to the morning I must trust myself
    I must enter the gates with presents and humility
    I must set the pace for therein lies my peace of mind
    I may not admit it but I am one of a kind
    I have fought the great fight and journeyed to the end
    Where I must make a choice to defend where I stand
    Gazing at the sun going nowhere to the crossroads.
    you wrote this, stargate? it's really special.
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  12. #312  
    Forum Radioactive Isotope zinjanthropos's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by wegs View Post
    you wrote this, stargate? it's really special.
    Really was good. My favorite line:
    Life owes not, nor does it borrow, it cares not about a kindred
    Mind,
    babe and wegs like this.
    All that belongs to human understanding, in this deep ignorance and obscurity, is to be skeptical, or at least cautious; and not to admit of any hypothesis, whatsoever; much less, of any which is supported by no appearance of probability...Hume
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  13. #313  
    Genius Duck Moderator Dywyddyr's Avatar
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    next to of course god america i
    love you land of the pilgrims' and so forth oh
    say can you see by the dawn's early my
    country 'tis of centuries come and go
    and are no more what of it we should worry
    in every language even deafanddumb
    thy sons acclaim your glorious name by gorry
    by jingo by gee by gosh by gum
    why talk of beauty what could be more beaut-
    iful than these heroic happy dead
    who rushed like lions to the roaring slaughter
    they did not stop to think they died instead
    then shall the voice of liberty be mute?

    He spoke. And drank rapidly a glass of water

    e e cummings
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    "[Dywyddyr] makes a grumpy bastard like me seem like a happy go lucky scamp" - PhDemon
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  14. #314  
    Theatre Whore babe's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Dywyddyr View Post
    next to of course god america i
    love you land of the pilgrims' and so forth oh
    say can you see by the dawn's early my
    country 'tis of centuries come and go
    and are no more what of it we should worry
    in every language even deafanddumb
    thy sons acclaim your glorious name by gorry
    by jingo by gee by gosh by gum
    why talk of beauty what could be more beaut-
    iful than these heroic happy dead
    who rushed like lions to the roaring slaughter
    they did not stop to think they died instead
    then shall the voice of liberty be mute?

    He spoke. And drank rapidly a glass of water

    e e cummings
    Always liked him.
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  15. #315  
    Theatre Whore babe's Avatar
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    JEWELS

    Sara Teasdale

    If I should see your eyes again,
    I know how far their look would go--
    Back to a morning in the park
    With sapphire shadows on the snow.

    Or back to oak trees in the spring
    When you unloosened my hair and kisses
    The head that lay against your knees
    IN the leaf shadows's amethyst.

    And still another shining place
    We would remember--how the dun
    Wild mountain held us on its crest
    One diamond morning white with sun.

    Bur I will turn my eyes from you
    As women turn to put away
    The jewels they have worn at night
    And cannot wear in sober day.
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  16. #316  
    Northern Horse Whisperer Moderator scheherazade's Avatar
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    The Ballad of East and West
    Rudyard Kipling (1889)

    Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
    Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God’s great Judgment Seat;
    But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
    When two strong men stand face to face, though they come from the ends of the earth!


    Kamal is out with twenty men to raise the Border-side,
    And he has lifted the Colonel’s mare that is the Colonel’s pride.
    He has lifted her out of the stable-door between the dawn and the day,
    And turned the calkins upon her feet, and ridden her far away.
    Then up and spoke the Colonel’s son that led a troop of the Guides:
    “Is there never a man of all my men can say where Kamal hides?”
    Then up and spoke Mohammed Khan, the son of the Ressaldar:
    “If ye know the track of the morning-mist, ye know where his pickets are.
    “At dusk he harries the Abazai — at dawn he is into Bonair,
    “But he must go by Fort Bukloh to his own place to fare.
    “So if ye gallop to Fort Bukloh as fast as a bird can fly,
    “By the favour of God ye may cut him off ere he win to the Tongue of Jagai.
    “But if he be past the Tongue of Jagai, right swiftly turn ye then,
    “For the length and the breadth of that grisly plain is sown with Kamal’s men.
    “There is rock to the left, and rock to the right, and low lean thorn between,
    “And ye may hear a breech-bolt snick where never a man is seen.”

    The Colonel’s son has taken horse, and a raw rough dun was he,
    With the mouth of a bell and the heart of Hell and the head of a gallows-tree.
    The Colonel’s son to the Fort has won, they bid him stay to eat —
    Who rides at the tail of a Border thief, he sits not long at his meat.
    He’s up and away from Fort Bukloh as fast as he can fly,
    Till he was aware of his father’s mare in the gut of the Tongue of Jagai,
    Till he was aware of his father’s mare with Kamal upon her back,
    And when he could spy the white of her eye, he made the pistol crack.
    He has fired once, he has fired twice, but the whistling ball went wide.
    “Ye shoot like a soldier,” Kamal said.
    “Show now if ye can ride!”
    It’s up and over the Tongue of Jagai, as blown dust-devils go,
    The dun he fled like a stag of ten, but the mare like a barren doe.
    The dun he leaned against the bit and slugged his head above,
    But the red mare played with the snaffle-bars, as a maiden plays with a glove.
    There was rock to the left and rock to the right, and low lean thorn between,
    And thrice he heard a breech-bolt snick tho’ never a man was seen.

    They have ridden the low moon out of the sky, their hoofs drum up the dawn,
    The dun he went like a wounded bull, but the mare like a new-roused fawn.
    The dun he fell at a water-course — in a woeful heap fell he,
    And Kamal has turned the red mare back, and pulled the rider free.
    He has knocked the pistol out of his hand — small room was there to strive,
    “’Twas only by favour of mine,” quoth he, “ye rode so long alive:
    “There was not a rock for twenty mile, there was not a clump of tree,
    “But covered a man of my own men with his rifle cocked on his knee.
    “If I had raised my bridle-hand, as I have held it low,
    “The little jackals that flee so fast were feasting all in a row.
    “If I had bowed my head on my breast, as I have held it high,
    “The kite that whistles above us now were gorged till she could not fly.”
    Lightly answered the Colonel’s son: “Do good to bird and beast,
    “But count who come for the broken meats before thou makest a feast.
    “If there should follow a thousand swords to carry my bones away,
    “Belike the price of a jackal’s meal were more than a thief could pay.
    “They will feed their horse on the standing crop, their men on the garnered grain.
    “The thatch of the byres will serve their fires when all the cattle are slain.
    “But if thou thinkest the price be fair, — thy brethren wait to sup,
    “The hound is kin to the jackal-spawn, — howl, dog, and call them up!
    “And if thou thinkest the price be high, in steer and gear and stack,
    “Give me my father’s mare again, and I’ll fight my own way back!”

    Kamal has gripped him by the hand and set him upon his feet.
    “No talk shall be of dogs,” said he, “when wolf and grey wolf meet.
    “May I eat dirt if thou hast hurt of me in deed or breath;
    “What dam of lances brought thee forth to jest at the dawn with Death?”
    Lightly answered the Colonel’s son: “I hold by the blood of my clan:
    “Take up the mare for my father’s gift — by God, she has carried a man!”
    The red mare ran to the Colonel’s son, and nuzzled against his breast;
    “We be two strong men,” said Kamal then, “but she loveth the younger best.
    “So she shall go with a lifter’s dower, my turquoise-studded rein,
    “My ’broidered saddle and saddle-cloth, and silver stirrups twain.”
    The Colonel’s son a pistol drew, and held it muzzle-end,
    “Ye have taken the one from a foe,” said he. “Will ye take the mate from a friend?”
    “A gift for a gift,” said Kamal straight; “a limb for the risk of a limb.
    “Thy father has sent his son to me, I’ll send my son to him!”
    With that he whistled his only son, that dropped from a mountain-crest —
    He trod the ling like a buck in spring, and he looked like a lance in rest.
    “Now here is thy master,” Kamal said, “who leads a troop of the Guides,
    #8220;And thou must ride at his left side as shield on shoulder rides.
    “Till Death or I cut loose the tie, at camp and board and bed,
    “Thy life is his — thy fate it is to guard him with thy head.
    “So, thou must eat the White Queen’s meat, and all her foes are thine,
    “And thou must harry thy father’s hold for the peace of the Border-line.
    “And thou must make a trooper tough and hack thy way to power —
    “Belike they will raise thee to Ressaldar when I am hanged in Peshawur!”

    They have looked each other between the eyes, and there they found no fault.
    They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on leavened bread and salt:
    They have taken the Oath of the Brother-in-Blood on fire and fresh-cut sod,
    On the hilt and the haft of the Khyber knife, and the Wondrous Names of God.

    The Colonel’s son he rides the mare and Kamal’s boy the dun,
    And two have come back to Fort Bukloh where there went forth but one.
    And when they drew to the Quarter-Guard, full twenty swords flew clear —
    There was not a man but carried his feud with the blood of the mountaineer.
    “Ha’ done! ha’ done!” said the Colonel’s son. “Put up the steel at your sides!
    “Last night ye had struck at a Border thief — to-night ’tis a man of the Guides!”

    Oh, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
    Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God’s great Judgment Seat;
    But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
    When two strong men stand face to face, though they come from the ends of the earth!
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  17. #317  
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    Quote Originally Posted by wegs View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by Stargate View Post
    The Cross Road
    By Stargate

    The tide is turning and I am yearning
    For the days to be shortened
    And returned to times of conscious sanity,
    Not tainted by vanity.
    How did I get here in this place of solitude?
    Alone and ignorant of what was meant to be,
    Unable to see
    I was cautious in making my steps, so I thought,
    Yet life was not on the same page, even at my age
    To deliver me from the depth of my rage
    As I try to reach the cross roads.

    Love was not enough to straighten the narrow bend
    As we have been told it conquers all in the end
    I still do not know what I did wrong
    To deserve the pain that has been taking so long
    In dissipating into the cosmic breeze
    Why have I been so dumb not to realize
    That I have missed the word to the wise
    Did I not know Fools rush in where wise ones do not enter?
    I as arrogant as can be did not know the flow
    That nothing was promised to no man, or woman
    As I journey to the cross roads.

    Now I am here and know not where to turn
    Blinded from the struggle and the baggage of trust
    I hid in the wrong place, now gone without a trace
    What did I think I wanted when I chose to follow the light?
    Could I not see in the dark and panicked into fright?
    Did I not trust myself enough to recognize sincerity?
    Or follow my heart to the port of destiny
    Why are we so foolish to believe we can escape the inevitable?
    Life owes not, nor does it borrows, it cares not about a kindred
    Mind, but holds integrity and dignity, and is very kind.
    I have reached the cross roads.

    Here I am, I know that I must make it through the night
    And realize the fight is no longer for the brave, nor the
    Battle for the swift, but for he that endured to the end my friend
    If I am to continue to the morning I must trust myself
    I must enter the gates with presents and humility
    I must set the pace for therein lies my peace of mind
    I may not admit it but I am one of a kind
    I have fought the great fight and journeyed to the end
    Where I must make a choice to defend where I stand
    Gazing at the sun going nowhere to the crossroads.
    you wrote this, stargate? it's really special.
    You know Wegs, writing some of the experiences I gather on the journey through life.
    wegs likes this.
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  18. #318  
    ...matter and pixie dust wegs's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Stargate View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by wegs View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by Stargate View Post
    The Cross Road
    By Stargate

    The tide is turning and I am yearning
    For the days to be shortened
    And returned to times of conscious sanity,
    Not tainted by vanity.
    How did I get here in this place of solitude?
    Alone and ignorant of what was meant to be,
    Unable to see
    I was cautious in making my steps, so I thought,
    Yet life was not on the same page, even at my age
    To deliver me from the depth of my rage
    As I try to reach the cross roads.

    Love was not enough to straighten the narrow bend
    As we have been told it conquers all in the end
    I still do not know what I did wrong
    To deserve the pain that has been taking so long
    In dissipating into the cosmic breeze
    Why have I been so dumb not to realize
    That I have missed the word to the wise
    Did I not know Fools rush in where wise ones do not enter?
    I as arrogant as can be did not know the flow
    That nothing was promised to no man, or woman
    As I journey to the cross roads.

    Now I am here and know not where to turn
    Blinded from the struggle and the baggage of trust
    I hid in the wrong place, now gone without a trace
    What did I think I wanted when I chose to follow the light?
    Could I not see in the dark and panicked into fright?
    Did I not trust myself enough to recognize sincerity?
    Or follow my heart to the port of destiny
    Why are we so foolish to believe we can escape the inevitable?
    Life owes not, nor does it borrows, it cares not about a kindred
    Mind, but holds integrity and dignity, and is very kind.
    I have reached the cross roads.

    Here I am, I know that I must make it through the night
    And realize the fight is no longer for the brave, nor the
    Battle for the swift, but for he that endured to the end my friend
    If I am to continue to the morning I must trust myself
    I must enter the gates with presents and humility
    I must set the pace for therein lies my peace of mind
    I may not admit it but I am one of a kind
    I have fought the great fight and journeyed to the end
    Where I must make a choice to defend where I stand
    Gazing at the sun going nowhere to the crossroads.
    you wrote this, stargate? it's really special.
    You know Wegs, writing some of the experiences I gather on the journey through life.
    Since you have talent for this, write a poem that depicts your experiences on this site. Names left out, but I think that would be a fun exploration. lol
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  19. #319  
    Genius Duck Moderator Dywyddyr's Avatar
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    Something To Look Forward To


    Oh what a relief it will be
    to lose my grasp
    .......................on sanity,
    become some one else, who isn’t me,
    when I finally fall
    .......................out of my tree.


    My troubles in increasing trend
    will come shortly
    .......................to an end,
    and I can be my own friend,
    when I slip around
    .......................the bend.


    To cross the line of genius
    without a swear
    .......................or cuss,
    a total minimum of fuss,
    drop quietly into
    .......................madness.
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  20. #320  
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    I would urge you not to think I know anything about poetry, I am just expressing my thoughts on somethings I experienced in life, my wife is very much into poetry and I loved it that is how we met. I have been wanting to write my own lyrics when I was playing music but did not know how to do that until my wife said' "just write what is happening in your life" and that is what I did until now.
    So here comes Wegs and gives me a task maybe much too high for my knowledge of the English language and silly me will give it a try. Lol.
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  21. #321  
    ...matter and pixie dust wegs's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Dywyddyr View Post
    Something To Look Forward To


    Oh what a relief it will be
    to lose my grasp
    .......................on sanity,
    become some one else, who isn’t me,
    when I finally fall
    .......................out of my tree.


    My troubles in increasing trend
    will come shortly
    .......................to an end,
    and I can be my own friend,
    when I slip around
    .......................the bend.


    To cross the line of genius
    without a swear
    .......................or cuss,
    a total minimum of fuss,
    drop quietly into
    .......................madness.
    is this your work?

    Quote Originally Posted by Stargate View Post
    I would urge you not to think I know anything about poetry, I am just expressing my thoughts on somethings I experienced in life, my wife is very much into poetry and I loved it that is how we met. I have been wanting to write my own lyrics when I was playing music but did not know how to do that until my wife said' "just write what is happening in your life" and that is what I did until now.
    So here comes Wegs and gives me a task maybe much too high for my knowledge of the English language and silly me will give it a try. Lol.
    Your wife is a smart lady, indeed. Now chop chop...lol Just kidding. If/when you are ready...it might be fun to read.

    I should contribute to my own thread too one of these days. lol
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  22. #322  
    Genius Duck Moderator Dywyddyr's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by wegs View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by Dywyddyr View Post
    Something To Look Forward To

    Etc.
    is this your work?
    Sort of.
    It made me write it.
    I got the first line while driving home after work and then the thing forced itself onto paper during an architecture class that evening.
    I couldn't stop laughing...
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  23. #323  
    Forum Cosmic Wizard
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    William Blake. 1757–1827

    The Tiger

    TIGER, tiger, burning bright
    In the forests of the night,
    What immortal hand or eye
    Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

    In what distant deeps or skies 5
    Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
    On what wings dare he aspire?
    What the hand dare seize the fire?

    And what shoulder and what art
    Could twist the sinews of thy heart? 10
    And when thy heart began to beat,
    What dread hand and what dread feet?

    What the hammer? what the chain?
    In what furnace was thy brain?
    What the anvil? What dread grasp 15
    Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

    When the stars threw down their spears,
    And water'd heaven with their tears,
    Did He smile His work to see?
    Did He who made the lamb make thee? 20

    Tiger, tiger, burning bright
    In the forests of the night,
    What immortal hand or eye
    Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?


    For some reason I always liked this one in spite of not being a religious man myself. In Blake's time when you read it Symmetry rhymed with Eye .
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  24. #324  
    ...matter and pixie dust wegs's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Dywyddyr View Post
    Something To Look Forward To


    Oh what a relief it will be
    to lose my grasp
    .......................on sanity,
    become some one else, who isn’t me,
    when I finally fall
    .......................out of my tree.


    My troubles in increasing trend
    will come shortly
    .......................to an end,
    and I can be my own friend,
    when I slip around
    .......................the bend.


    To cross the line of genius
    without a swear
    .......................or cuss,
    a total minimum of fuss,
    drop quietly into
    .......................madness.
    Quote Originally Posted by Stargate View Post
    I would urge you not to think I know anything about poetry, I am just expressing my thoughts on somethings I experienced in life, my wife is very much into poetry and I loved it that is how we met. I have been wanting to write my own lyrics when I was playing music but did not know how to do that until my wife said' "just write what is happening in your life" and that is what I did until now.
    So here comes Wegs and gives me a task maybe much too high for my knowledge of the English language and silly me will give it a try. Lol.
    Quote Originally Posted by Dywyddyr View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by wegs View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by Dywyddyr View Post
    Something To Look Forward To

    Etc.
    is this your work?
    Sort of.
    It made me write it.
    I got the first line while driving home after work and then the thing forced itself onto paper during an architecture class that evening.
    I couldn't stop laughing...
    It is okay to admit YOU wrote it
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  25. #325  
    Genius Duck Moderator Dywyddyr's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by wegs View Post
    It is okay to admit YOU wrote it
    But that's what I'm saying.
    I may have been the one that put it on paper.
    But it wrote itself.
    I didn't have a choice.
    "[Dywyddyr] makes a grumpy bastard like me seem like a happy go lucky scamp" - PhDemon
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  26. #326  
    ...matter and pixie dust wegs's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Dywyddyr View Post
    Something To Look Forward To


    Oh what a relief it will be
    to lose my grasp
    .......................on sanity,
    become some one else, who isn’t me,
    when I finally fall
    .......................out of my tree.


    My troubles in increasing trend
    will come shortly
    .......................to an end,
    and I can be my own friend,
    when I slip around
    .......................the bend.


    To cross the line of genius
    without a swear
    .......................or cuss,
    a total minimum of fuss,
    drop quietly into
    .......................madness.
    Quote Originally Posted by Stargate View Post
    I would urge you not to think I know anything about poetry, I am just expressing my thoughts on somethings I experienced in life, my wife is very much into poetry and I loved it that is how we met. I have been wanting to write my own lyrics when I was playing music but did not know how to do that until my wife said' "just write what is happening in your life" and that is what I did until now.
    So here comes Wegs and gives me a task maybe much too high for my knowledge of the English language and silly me will give it a try. Lol.
    Quote Originally Posted by Dywyddyr View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by wegs View Post
    It is okay to admit YOU wrote it
    But that's what I'm saying.
    I may have been the one that put it on paper.
    But it wrote itself.
    I didn't have a choice.
    Y'know, that sounds eerily familiar. Like I think that is how the 'writing' of the Bible has been described. 'It wrote itself', and man was the mere instrument from God's mouth to paper. Oh, the irony .....yes? (*runs and hides)
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  27. #327  
    Genius Duck Moderator Dywyddyr's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by wegs View Post
    Oh, the irony .....yes? (*runs and hides)
    Yep.
    The bible, and a poem about insanity.
    I can see the connection.
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  28. #328  
    ...matter and pixie dust wegs's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Dywyddyr View Post
    Yep.
    The bible, and a poem about insanity.
    I can see the connection.
    Me, too.
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  29. #329  
    Northern Horse Whisperer Moderator scheherazade's Avatar
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    Given that we all experience life differently and science has suggested that no two brains work identically, the true insanity is that we can communicate at all, by any medium, including poetry, religion, music and visual mediums.

    It's all whack-a-doo
    Between me and you,
    yet should we disagree,
    there is none to ref'ree
    All experience is 'true',
    so what can you do?
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  30. #330  
    Genius Duck Moderator Dywyddyr's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by scheherazade View Post
    Given that we all experience life differently and science has suggested that no two brains work identically, the true insanity is that we can communicate at all, by any medium, including poetry, religion, music and visual mediums.
    Yup.
    But, if you read it again, it's not really about insanity as such 1.

    1 Although it took me a while to realise that.


    Edit: whoops I missed the word "not" out in that...
    Last edited by Dywyddyr; March 2nd, 2014 at 11:08 PM.
    "[Dywyddyr] makes a grumpy bastard like me seem like a happy go lucky scamp" - PhDemon
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  31. #331  
    Forum Freshman Laurieag's Avatar
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    'The plea of BeiBionn'

    You can have your magic beans Jack
    your children are hungry and we need the cow back.

    The lack of just terms and equitable or fair pacts
    expose all crooked beanstalks to concerted attacks.

    Unless obsessive cycles are stopped in their tracks
    our towns will again be as flat as tacks.

    You have been too trusting Jack
    your children’s futures remain black
    while current problems compound through lack.

    Struggle earnestly against the pack
    repudiate rights to depreciatingly retract
    as giants fortress lie ripe for sack.

    For only fair shares of the golden goose Jack
    will save beanstalks and giants from the axe.
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  32. #332  
    Forum Professor pyoko's Avatar
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    Have I shared my poem before???

    ELEPHANT ELEPHANT WHAT'S YOUR NAME?
    ELEPHANT ELEPHANT PLAY A GAME
    YOU DO A KAKA AND I DO A POO
    I BET I HAVE A LOT MORE THAN YOU
    It is by will alone I set my mind in motion.
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  33. #333  
    Theatre Whore babe's Avatar
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    BARTER

    Sara Teasdale

    Life has loveliness to sell,
    All beautiful and splendid things,
    Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
    Soaring fire that sways and sings,
    And children's faces looking up
    Holding wonder like a cup.

    Life has loveliness to sell,
    Music like a curve of gold,
    Scent of pine trees in the rain,
    Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
    And for you spirit's still delight,
    Holy thoughts that star the night.

    Spend all you have for loveliness,
    Buy it and never count the cost;
    For one white singing hour of peace
    Count many a year of strife well lost.
    And for a breath of ecstasy
    Give all you have been, or could be.
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  34. #334  
    Theatre Whore babe's Avatar
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    THE SOLITARY

    Sara Teasdale

    My heart has grown rich with the passing of years,
    I have less need now than when I was young
    To share myself with every comer
    Or shape my thoughts into words with my tongue.

    It is one to me tht they com or go
    If I have myself and the drive of my will,
    And strength to climb on a summer night
    An watch the stars swarm over the hill.

    Let them think I love them more than I do,
    Let them think I care, though I go alone;
    If it lifts their pride, what is it to me
    Who am self-complete as a flower or a stone.
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  35. #335  
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    "All are architects of Fate,
    Working in these walls of Time;
    Some with massive deeds and great,
    Some with ornaments of rhyme.

    Nothing useless is, or low;
    Each thing in its place is best;
    And what seems but idle show
    Strengthens and supports the rest.

    For the structure that we raise,
    Time is with materials filled;
    Our to-days and yesterdays
    Are the blocks with which we build.

    Truly shape and fashion these;
    Leave no yawning gaps between;
    Think not, because no man sees,
    Such things will remain unseen.

    In the elder days of Art,
    Builders wrought with greatest care
    Each minute and unseen part;
    For the Gods see everywhere.

    Let us do our work as well,
    Both the unseen and the seen;
    Make the house, where Gods may dwell,
    Beautiful, entire, and clean.

    Else our lives are incomplete,
    Standing in these walls of Time,
    Broken stairways, where the feet
    Stumble as they seek to climb.

    Build to-day, then, strong and sure,
    With a firm and ample base;
    And ascending and secure
    Shall to-morrow find its place.

    Thus alone can we attain
    To those turrets, where the eye
    Sees the world as one vast plain,
    And one boundless reach of sky.

    "

    Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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  36. #336  
    Forum Cosmic Wizard
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    ‘How doth the little crocodile
    Improve his shining tail,
    And pour the waters of the Nile
      every golden scale!


    ‘How cheerfully he seems to grin,
      neatly spread his claws,
    And welcome little fishes in
      gently smiling jaws!’

    ~Alice's Adventures in Wonderland
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  37. #337  
    Theatre Whore babe's Avatar
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    Sara Teasdale

    The Look

    Stephon kissed me in the spring,
    Robin in the fall,
    But Colin only looked a m
    And never kissed a tall.

    Stephon's kiss was lost in jest,
    Robins lost in play
    But the kiss in Colin's eyes
    Haunts me night and day.
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  38. #338  
    Genius Duck Moderator Dywyddyr's Avatar
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    High Flight

    Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
    And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
    Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
    Of sun-split clouds, --and done a hundred things
    You have not dreamed of --Wheeled and soared and swung
    High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there
    I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
    My eager craft through footless halls of air...
    Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
    I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
    Where never lark or even eagle flew --
    And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
    The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
    Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

    John Gillespie Magee, Jr.

    Can't be a military aviation fan without coming across that one once or twice in your life.
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  39. #339  
    Genius Duck Moderator Dywyddyr's Avatar
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    This one from one of my favourite war/ anti-war films, Breaker Morant.

    It's an untitled one by Byron and is quoted in the film:

    When a man hath no freedom to fight for at home,
    Let him combat for that of his neighbors;
    Let him think of the glories of Greece and Rome,
    And get knocked on his head for his labors.

    To do good to mankind is the chivalrous plan,
    And is always nobly requited;
    Then battle for freedom wherever you can,
    And, if not shot or hanged, you’ll get knighted.


    It's quite Kiplingesque.
    "[Dywyddyr] makes a grumpy bastard like me seem like a happy go lucky scamp" - PhDemon
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  40. #340  
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    Sir Ducky waxeth poetic.......
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  41. #341  
    Forum Radioactive Isotope zinjanthropos's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by babe View Post
    Sir Ducky waxeth poetic.......
    Babe....methinks you have unleashed a monster........It's all good.
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    All that belongs to human understanding, in this deep ignorance and obscurity, is to be skeptical, or at least cautious; and not to admit of any hypothesis, whatsoever; much less, of any which is supported by no appearance of probability...Hume
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  42. #342  
    ...matter and pixie dust wegs's Avatar
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    From a poetry website, author is an amateur poetry writer, she didn't have her last name attached, so I'm not going to list her name.

    I want the sun to shine in my life
    but all I seem to find is a cutting knife
    All I want is a single ray
    just for a little brighter day
    The sun can't make it through the black cloud
    as the storm cries out loud
    with the knife I try to cut through
    but the cloud is so thick this will not do
    I need to get through the black cloud now
    but I need someone to show me how
    Someone needs to give me a gift
    so the black cloud will begin to shift
    The gift of joy, hope and peace
    so the black cloud will begin to release
    The black cloud seems to give me grief
    but the gift will help me find relief
    with the gift the black cloud will begin to lift
    and the rest will continue to rift
    when the sun finally breaks throughthe joy, hope and peace will begin to show too
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  43. #343  
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    Quote Originally Posted by zinjanthropos View Post
    Quote Originally Posted by babe View Post
    Sir Ducky waxeth poetic.......
    Babe....methinks you have unleashed a monster........It's all good.
    And this is a surprise? *chuckle*
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  44. #344  
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    The Coin
    Sara Teasdale

    Into my heart's treasury
    I slipped a coin.
    That time cnnottake
    Nor a thief purloin,--
    Og , better than the minting
    Of a gold-crowned king
    Is the safe-kept memory
    Of a lovely thing.
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  45. #345  
    Forum Cosmic Wizard
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    The following fragment is here published at the request of a poet of pt and deserved celebrity, and, as far as the author's own opinions are concerned, rather as a psychological curiosity, than on the grounds of any supposed poetic merits.
    In the summer of the year 1797, the author, then in ill health, had retired to a lonely farmhouse between Porlock and Linton, on the Exmoor confines of Somerset and Devonshire. In consequence of a slight indisposition, an anodyne had been prescribed, from the effects of which he fell asleep in his chair at the moment that he was reading the following sentence, or words of the same substance, in Purchas's Pilgrimage: "Here the Khan Kubla commanded a palace to be built, and a stately garden thereunto. And thus ten miles of fertile ground were inclosed with a wall." The author continued for about three hours in a profound sleep, at least of the external senses, during which time he has the most vivid confidence that he could not have composed less than from two to three hundred lines; if that indeed can be called composition in which all the images rose up before him as things, with a parallel production of the correspondent expressions, without any sensation or consciousness of effort. On awaking he appeared to himself to have a distinct recollection of the whole, and taking his pen, ink, and paper, instantly and eagerly wrote down the lines that are here preserved. At this moment he was unforunately called out by a person on business from Porlock, and detained by him above an hour, and on his return to his room, found, to his no small surprise and mortification, that though he still retained some vague and dim recollection of the general purport of the vision, yet, with the exception of some eight or ten scattered lines and images, all the rest had passed away like the images on the surface of a stream into which a stone has been cast, but, alas! without the after restoration of the latter!
    Then all the charm
    Is broken — all that phantom world so fair
    Vanishes, and a thousand circlets spread,
    And each misshape[s] the other. Stay awhile,
    Poor youth! who scarcely dar'st lift up thine eyes —
    The stream will soon renew its smoothness, soon
    The visions will return! And lo, he stays,
    And soon the fragments dim of lovely forms
    Come trembling back, unite, and now once more
    The pool becomes a mirror.
    [From Coleridge's The Picture; or, the lover's Resolution, lines 91-100]
    Yet from the still surviving recollections in his mind, the author has frequently purposed to finish for himself what had been originally, as were, given to him. [I shall sing a sweeter song today]: but the tomorrow is yet to come. As a contrast to this vision, I have annexed a fragment of a very different character, describing with equal fidelity the dream of pain and disease.
    In Xanadu did KubIa 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 chafly 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 KubIa 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 honeydew hath fed,
    And drunk the milk of Paradise.

    Samuel Taylor Coleridge ca. 1797-98, 1816
    http://www.victorianweb.org/previcto...tc/kktext.html
    __________
    Wikipeda comment
    Kubla Khan /ˌkʊblə ˈkɑːn/ is a poem written by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, completed in 1797 and published in 1816. According to Coleridge's Preface to Kubla Khan, the poem was composed one night after he experienced an opium-influenced dream after reading a work describing Xanadu, the summer palace of the Mongol ruler and Emperor of China Kublai Khan.[1] Upon waking, he set about writing lines of poetry that came to him from the dream until he was interrupted by a person from Porlock. The poem could not be completed according to its original 200–300 line plan as the interruption caused him to forget the lines. He left it unpublished and kept it for private readings for his friends until 1816 when, on the prompting by George Gordon Byron, it was published.

    Some of Coleridge's contemporaries denounced the poem and questioned his story about its origin. It was not until years later that critics began to openly admire the poem. Most modern critics now view Kubla Khan as one of Coleridge's three great poems, with The Rime of the Ancient Mariner and Christabel. The poem is considered one of the most famous examples of Romanticism in English poetry. A copy of the manuscript is a permanent exhibit at the British Museum in London.

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  46. #346  
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    Quote Originally Posted by wegs View Post
    From a poetry website, author is an amateur poetry writer, she didn't have her last name attached, so I'm not going to list her name.

    I want the sun to shine in my life
    but all I seem to find is a cutting knife
    All I want is a single ray
    just for a little brighter day
    The sun can't make it through the black cloud
    as the storm cries out loud
    with the knife I try to cut through
    but the cloud is so thick this will not do
    I need to get through the black cloud now
    but I need someone to show me how
    Someone needs to give me a gift
    so the black cloud will begin to shift
    The gift of joy, hope and peace
    so the black cloud will begin to release
    The black cloud seems to give me grief
    but the gift will help me find relief
    with the gift the black cloud will begin to lift
    and the rest will continue to rift
    when the sun finally breaks through the joy, hope and peace will begin to show too

    It seems the black cloud is shining for you Wegs. I like it. Did a black sun create a black cloud? Did the light of the black sun penetrate the black cloud? When I read some types of poetry I have so many questions, I want to know why the person wrote the poem, or why you like it.
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  47. #347  
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    JABBERWOCKY

    Lewis Carroll

    (from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)

    `Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
    Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
    All mimsy were the borogoves,
    And the mome raths outgrabe.



    "Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
    The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
    Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
    The frumious Bandersnatch!"

    He took his vorpal sword in hand:
    Long time the manxome foe he sought --
    So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
    And stood awhile in thought.

    And, as in uffish thought he stood,
    The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
    Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
    And burbled as it came!

    One, two! One, two! And through and through
    The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
    He left it dead, and with its head
    He went galumphing back.

    "And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
    Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
    O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
    He chortled in his joy.



    `Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
    Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
    All mimsy were the borogoves,
    And the mome raths outgrabe.

    Jabberwocky
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  48. #348  
    Theatre Whore babe's Avatar
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    DEBT

    Sara Teasdale

    What do I owe to you
    Who loved me deep and long?
    You never gave my spirit wings
    Or gave my heart a song.

    But, oh, to him I loved
    Who loved me not at all,
    I owe the open gate
    That led thru heaven's wall.
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