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Classical Music - NoEnzLefttoSplit - Apr 18, 2015 - 9:35am
 
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Self-change/growth/etc. - Steve - Apr 17, 2015 - 10:29am
 
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Regarding dogs - RichardPrins - Apr 17, 2015 - 9:18am
 
Counting with Pictures - ScottN - Apr 17, 2015 - 9:11am
 
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Things You Thought Today - Antigone - Apr 17, 2015 - 8:45am
 
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Cryptic Posts - Leave Them Guessing - oldviolin - Apr 17, 2015 - 7:18am
 
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Propaganda - RichardPrins - Apr 16, 2015 - 7:00pm
 
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Questions. - haresfur - Apr 15, 2015 - 5:26pm
 
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Graphic designers, ho's! - haresfur - Apr 14, 2015 - 8:49pm
 
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Great Old Songs You Rarely Hear Anymore - KurtfromLaQuinta - Apr 14, 2015 - 7:11pm
 
Australian and New Zealand Music - haresfur - Apr 14, 2015 - 3:54pm
 
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Index » Entertainment » Books » Poetry Forum Page: 1, 2, 3 ... 179, 180, 181  Next
Post to this Topic
Antigone

Antigone Avatar

Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Aquarius
Chinese Yr: Rat


Posted: Apr 13, 2015 - 9:02am

There Will Come Soft Rains
Sara Teasdale

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools, singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white,

Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn,
Would scarcely know that we were gone.


Alexandra

Alexandra Avatar

Location: PNW
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Libra
Chinese Yr: Horse


Posted: Apr 1, 2015 - 6:23pm

Tria Phase

You are standing in my yard
With your bikes and kickballs
Smiling at me
I am standing on the porch
I want to come out and play
But I am not sure for how long
I wonder which of you I like best
I see others coming up the driveway
I wonder if I will like you enough
If I will like your games

You see,
When I moved from my old neighborhood
I moved away from my best friend
Who knew me so very well
Leaving behind all that was perfect and ideal...
for me
 
I take a few steps down
I return the ball that you throw
I ride my bike once around the block with you
But then I run back to the porch 
I can make no promises just yet
And I don't wish to disappoint
If you are patient with me
If delight in my company is enough
For now
Then I will play with you
It is a new day
The sun is shining
And I must get outside
 
 
 



ScottN
"Thought for today" has been postponed until tomorrow.
ScottN Avatar

Location: An inch above the K/T boundary. But smth near fracking still has appeal.
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Aries
Chinese Yr: Buffalo


Posted: Apr 1, 2015 - 6:29am

A Classic

From Endymion
Book I

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases, it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o’er-darkened ways
Made of our searching; yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits.

JOHN KEATS


Antigone

Antigone Avatar

Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Aquarius
Chinese Yr: Rat


Posted: Mar 26, 2015 - 7:54am

 meower wrote:

Rembrandt's Late Self-Portraits by Elizabeth Jennings

You are confronted with yourself. Each year
The pouches fill, the skin is uglier.
You give it all unflinchingly. You stare
Into yourself, beyond. Your brush's care
Runs with self-knowledge. Here

Is a humility at one with craft.
There is no arrogance. Pride is apart
From this self-scrutiny.
You make light drift
The way you want.
Your face is bruised and hurt But there is still love left.

Love of the art and others. To the last
Experiment went on. You stared beyond
Your age, the times. You also plucked the past
And tempered it. Self-portraits understand,
And old age can divest,

With truthful changes, us of fear of death.
Look, a new anguish. There, the bloated nose,
The sadness and the joy. To paint's to breathe,
And all the darknesses are dared. You chose
What each must reckon with.



 
Lovely.

I've posted before the long poem by E.A. Robinson called Rembrandt to Rembrandt. I won't post it again, but you should read it. It's worth the effort.
ScottN
"Thought for today" has been postponed until tomorrow.
ScottN Avatar

Location: An inch above the K/T boundary. But smth near fracking still has appeal.
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Aries
Chinese Yr: Buffalo


Posted: Mar 26, 2015 - 6:51am

 meower wrote:

Rembrandt's Late Self-Portraits by Elizabeth Jennings

...

 
Nice!
meower

meower Avatar

Location: i believe, i believe, it's silly, but I believe
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Gemini


Posted: Mar 26, 2015 - 4:59am

Rembrandt's Late Self-Portraits by Elizabeth Jennings

You are confronted with yourself. Each year
The pouches fill, the skin is uglier.
You give it all unflinchingly. You stare
Into yourself, beyond. Your brush's care
Runs with self-knowledge. Here

Is a humility at one with craft.
There is no arrogance. Pride is apart
From this self-scrutiny.
You make light drift
The way you want.
Your face is bruised and hurt But there is still love left.

Love of the art and others. To the last
Experiment went on. You stared beyond
Your age, the times. You also plucked the past
And tempered it. Self-portraits understand,
And old age can divest,

With truthful changes, us of fear of death.
Look, a new anguish. There, the bloated nose,
The sadness and the joy. To paint's to breathe,
And all the darknesses are dared. You chose
What each must reckon with.


ScottN
"Thought for today" has been postponed until tomorrow.
ScottN Avatar

Location: An inch above the K/T boundary. But smth near fracking still has appeal.
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Aries
Chinese Yr: Buffalo


Posted: Mar 25, 2015 - 10:43pm

 bokey wrote:
Today I dumped a portion of my mother's ashes off a
bridge on the exercise trail that was built for the
community as a result of her tireless years of
lobbying for the funding.

 They swirled away in the stream forming a cloud like
pattern that I could have imagined to be anything I
wanted, but I didn't need to imagine anything.

 
  Some of the grey sediment settled  on the bottom of
the stream in a v-shaped pattern pointing downstream.

Small fish came out of the cloudy ripples
 and hovered over the grey pattern formed by the part of
her remains that sank into the bed of the stream.

Some will wash away with the next hard rain, some
will work it's way down and become part of the
foundation of the streambed.

    Some washed downstream and into the first big
series of tiny stream proportionate rapids and
disappeared beyond my vision.

 
Kudos, Bokey
haresfur
I get around
haresfur Avatar

Location: The Golden Triangle Australia
Gender: Male


Posted: Mar 25, 2015 - 4:23pm

 bokey wrote:
Today I dumped a portion of my mother's ashes off a
bridge on the exercise trail that was built for the
community as a result of her tireless years of
lobbying for the funding.

 They swirled away in the stream forming a cloud like
pattern that I could have imagined to be anything I
wanted, but I didn't need to imagine anything.

 
  Some of the grey sediment settled  on the bottom of
the stream in a v-shaped pattern pointing downstream.

Small fish came out of the cloudy ripples
 and hovered over the grey pattern formed by the part of
her remains that sank into the bed of the stream.

Some will wash away with the next hard rain, some
will work it's way down and become part of the
foundation of the streambed.

    Some washed downstream and into the first big
series of tiny stream proportionate rapids and
disappeared beyond my vision.

 
{#Good-vibes}
bokey
Bokey
bokey Avatar

Location: No place for the weary kind
Gender: Male


Posted: Mar 25, 2015 - 4:18pm

Today I dumped a portion of my mother's ashes off a
bridge on the exercise trail that was built for the
community as a result of her tireless years of
lobbying for the funding.

 They swirled away in the stream forming a cloud like
pattern that I could have imagined to be anything I
wanted, but I didn't need to imagine anything.

 
  Some of the grey sediment settled  on the bottom of
the stream in a v-shaped pattern pointing downstream.

Small fish came out of the cloudy ripples
 and hovered over the grey pattern formed by the part of
her remains that sank into the bed of the stream.

Some will wash away with the next hard rain, some
will work it's way down and become part of the
foundation of the streambed.

    Some washed downstream and into the first big
series of tiny stream proportionate rapids and
disappeared beyond my vision.
Antigone

Antigone Avatar

Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Aquarius
Chinese Yr: Rat


Posted: Mar 25, 2015 - 3:22pm

Hope is the Thing with Feathers

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

 ~ Emily Dickinson




ScottN
"Thought for today" has been postponed until tomorrow.
ScottN Avatar

Location: An inch above the K/T boundary. But smth near fracking still has appeal.
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Aries
Chinese Yr: Buffalo


Posted: Mar 19, 2015 - 8:00am

Kissing

The young are walking on the riverbank,
arms around each other’s waists and shoulders,
pretending to be looking at the waterlilies
and what might be a nest of some kind, over
there, which two who are clamped together
mouth to mouth have forgotten about.
The others, making courteous detours
around them, talk, stop talking, kiss.
They can see no one older than themselves.
It’s their river. They’ve got all day.

Seeing’s not everything. At this very
moment the middle-aged are kissing
in the backs of taxis, on the way
to airports and stations. Their mouths and tongues
are soft and powerful and as moist as ever.
Their hands are not inside each other’s clothes
(because of the driver) but locked so tightly
together that it hurts: it may leave marks
on their not of course youthful skin, which they won’t
notice. They too may have futures.

Fleur Adcock


oldviolin
ab origine
oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Leo


Posted: Mar 13, 2015 - 10:36am

Sometime a keeper here in Windsor Forest,
Doth all the winter-time, at still midnight,
Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd horns;
And there he blasts the tree, and takes the cattle,
And makes milch-kine yield blood, and shakes a chain
In a most hideous and dreadful manner.
You have heard of such a spirit, and well you know
The superstitious idle-headed eld
Receiv'd, and did deliver to our age,
This tale of Herne the Hunter for a truth.
— William Shakespeare, The Merry Wives of Windsor

"...But I am a blasted tree; the bolt has entered my soul; and I felt then that I should survive to exhibit what I shall soon cease to be - a miserable spectacle of wrecked humanity, pitiable to others and intolerable to myself..."

from Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus by Mary Shelly


Antigone

Antigone Avatar

Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Aquarius
Chinese Yr: Rat


Posted: Mar 12, 2015 - 8:03am

Billy Collins


ScottN
"Thought for today" has been postponed until tomorrow.
ScottN Avatar

Location: An inch above the K/T boundary. But smth near fracking still has appeal.
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Aries
Chinese Yr: Buffalo


Posted: Mar 7, 2015 - 8:01am

The Couple in the Park
  A man walks alone in the park and beside him a woman walks, also alone.
How does one know? It is as though a line exists between them, like a line on
a playing field. And yet, in a photograph they might appear a married couple
weary of each other and of the many winters they have endured together
At another time, they might be strangers about to meet by accident. She
drops her book; stooping to pick it up, she touches, by accident, his hand and
her heart springs open like a child’s music box. And out of the box comes
a little ballerina made of wood. I have created this, the man thinks; though
she can only whirl in place, still she is a dancer of some kind, not simply a
block of wood. This must explain the puzzling music coming from the trees.

Louise Glück

 


oldviolin
ab origine
oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Leo


Posted: Feb 25, 2015 - 7:28am

Awake

Shake dreams from your hair my pretty child, my sweet one.
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day, the day's divinity.
First thing you see.

A vast radiant beach in a cool jeweled moon
Couples naked race down by its quiet side
And we laugh like soft, mad children
Smug in the woolowy cotton brains of infancy
The music and voices are all around us.

Choose they croon the Ancient Ones
The time has come again
Choose now, they croon
Beneath the moon
Beside an ancient lake
Enter again the sweet forest
Enter the hot dream
Come with us
Everything is broken up and dances.

Jim Morrison

ScottN
"Thought for today" has been postponed until tomorrow.
ScottN Avatar

Location: An inch above the K/T boundary. But smth near fracking still has appeal.
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Aries
Chinese Yr: Buffalo


Posted: Feb 23, 2015 - 10:26am

NIGHTSHADE

Those shadows, those flame shapes below,
are a grove, trees that in darkness
give off a damp scent—clove dust,
but sweeter. As he tries to explain
he feels defeated, because what he senses
is changing, momentary, brought on the wind.
Surely she notices it, too. Not berry
but the leatheriness of bark, the skin of berries.
The Seed.  Rain after a season of rain.
She notices the long distance they have come.
It is as if the evening began in the valley
below them, and now makes it way up the incline.
Nightshade, she says. One word.
And everything he has said seems paraphrase.
That air, sweet and bitter, is gone,
lost to chill, to shade giving way
to the general dark.  It is her hand
in his he thinks of now.
Her hands. Not their tenderness
but how one year they wove
the viny bittersweet into wreaths,
which she gave away as gifts.
When they finished their work, he brought her hands,
cut and scraped, to his mouth and kissed them.
He put her cupped hands over his face
and breathed deep the air held within them.

Eric Pankey

ScottN
"Thought for today" has been postponed until tomorrow.
ScottN Avatar

Location: An inch above the K/T boundary. But smth near fracking still has appeal.
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Aries
Chinese Yr: Buffalo


Posted: Feb 20, 2015 - 11:17am

THE CLOVER CROSS

Below my hand what do I see
As I comb through the grass?
A moon of light on each shamrock
That sharpens as I pass.

All of us there, like servants—
Even that boy is,
Who will break my heart by trading
My cross for one of his.

Something bewitches us, a fever
Of boredom that is like zeal:
Five children in a somnolence
They can almost feel

As if a thirst had come on us
Out of the air, like rain
That touches the ground where our heads have
Bent and our bodies lain.

Mary Kinzie
oldviolin
ab origine
oldviolin Avatar

Location: esse quam videri
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Leo


Posted: Feb 19, 2015 - 3:23pm


Antigone

Antigone Avatar

Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Aquarius
Chinese Yr: Rat


Posted: Feb 18, 2015 - 4:03pm

 ScottN wrote:
February

Winter. Time to eat fat
and watch hockey. In the pewter mornings, the cat,
a black fur sausage with yellow
Houdini eyes, jumps up on the bed and tries
to get onto my head. It’s his
way of telling whether or not I’m dead.
If I’m not, he wants to be scratched; if I am
He’ll think of something. He settles
on my chest, breathing his breath
of burped-up meat and musty sofas,
purring like a washboard. Some other tomcat,
not yet a capon, has been spraying our front door,
declaring war. It’s all about sex and territory,
which are what will finish us off
in the long run. Some cat owners around here
should snip a few testicles. If we wise
hominids were sensible, we’d do that too,
or eat our young, like sharks.
But it’s love that does us in. Over and over
Again, He shoots, he scores! and famine
crouches in the bedsheets, ambushing the pulsing
eiderdown, and the windchill factor hits
thirty below, and the pollution pours
out of our chimneys to keep us warm.
February, month of despair,
with a skewered heart in the centre.
I think dire thoughts, and lust for French fries
with a splash of vinegar.
Cat, enough of your greedy whining
an d your small pink bumhole.
Off my face! You’re the life principle,
more or less, so get going
on a little optimism around here.
Get rid of death. Celebrate increase. Make it be spring.

MARGARET ATWOOD



 

ScottN
"Thought for today" has been postponed until tomorrow.
ScottN Avatar

Location: An inch above the K/T boundary. But smth near fracking still has appeal.
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Aries
Chinese Yr: Buffalo


Posted: Feb 17, 2015 - 8:14am

February

Winter. Time to eat fat
and watch hockey. In the pewter mornings, the cat,
a black fur sausage with yellow
Houdini eyes, jumps up on the bed and tries
to get onto my head. It’s his
way of telling whether or not I’m dead.
If I’m not, he wants to be scratched; if I am
He’ll think of something. He settles
on my chest, breathing his breath
of burped-up meat and musty sofas,
purring like a washboard. Some other tomcat,
not yet a capon, has been spraying our front door,
declaring war. It’s all about sex and territory,
which are what will finish us off
in the long run. Some cat owners around here
should snip a few testicles. If we wise
hominids were sensible, we’d do that too,
or eat our young, like sharks.
But it’s love that does us in. Over and over
Again, He shoots, he scores! and famine
crouches in the bedsheets, ambushing the pulsing
eiderdown, and the windchill factor hits
thirty below, and the pollution pours
out of our chimneys to keep us warm.
February, month of despair,
with a skewered heart in the centre.
I think dire thoughts, and lust for French fries
with a splash of vinegar.
Cat, enough of your greedy whining
an d your small pink bumhole.
Off my face! You’re the life principle,
more or less, so get going
on a little optimism around here.
Get rid of death. Celebrate increase. Make it be spring.

MARGARET ATWOOD


Page: 1, 2, 3 ... 179, 180, 181  Next