[ ]      [ ]   [ ]

Counting with Pictures - kopak - Jul 25, 2017 - 10:56am
 
Immigration - Proclivities - Jul 25, 2017 - 10:52am
 
Celebrity Face Recognition - Proclivities - Jul 25, 2017 - 10:27am
 
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how do you feel right now? - Antigone - Jul 25, 2017 - 9:35am
 
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Derplahoma Questions and Points of Interest - Red_Dragon - Jul 25, 2017 - 8:43am
 
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Stupid Questions (and Answers) - SeriousLee - Jul 21, 2017 - 9:17am
 
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Questions. - haresfur - Jul 20, 2017 - 5:28pm
 
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Media Matters - Red_Dragon - Jul 20, 2017 - 3:01pm
 
Sound Quality - ai63 - Jul 20, 2017 - 2:06pm
 
Back to the 90's - Proclivities - Jul 20, 2017 - 11:25am
 
Mixtape Culture Club - maryte - Jul 20, 2017 - 11:11am
 
OBAMACARE - Coaxial - Jul 20, 2017 - 10:08am
 
True Confessions - Coaxial - Jul 20, 2017 - 9:40am
 
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TEXAS - miamizsun - Jul 19, 2017 - 1:35pm
 
Index » Entertainment » Books » Poetry Forum Page: 1, 2, 3 ... 190, 191, 192  Next
Post to this Topic
Red_Dragon

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Posted: Jul 18, 2017 - 7:01am

I am, as I am; whether hideous, or handsome, depends upon who is made judge.


Red_Dragon

Red_Dragon Avatar



Posted: Jul 18, 2017 - 6:36am

To the last, I grapple with thee; From Hell's heart, I stab at thee; For hate's sake, I spit my last breath at thee.


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


Posted: Jul 13, 2017 - 4:15pm

Gentrification is When

my land has more value
when you own it

you’re invited to the neighborhood association
i’ve never seen the welcome mat

you move to my neighborhood for diversity
don’t do a damn thing to diversify your hometown

you stroll carefree through my neighborhood
i’m arrested while driving through yours

you buy your house
evict me from my dream home

you move in and Bi-Rite stops stocking
my Nana’s #1 ingredient: affordable

bike lanes go up where there always were bikes
just brown riders

hundreds of you are never a mob
two of us is always a gang

the city installs new lights at Dolores Park for you
builds a new jail at 17th and Valencia for me

you think this poem is a joke
i don’t care what you think

but i have to

~ Cathy Arellano


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: Jul 12, 2017 - 8:00pm

 Antigone wrote:
HOME
by Somali poet Warsan Shire

no one leaves home unless
home is the mouth of a shark
you only run for the border
when you see the whole city running as well
your neighbours running faster than you
breath bloody in their throats
the boy you went to school with
who kissed you dizzy behind the old tin factory
is holding a gun bigger than his body
you only leave home
when home won't let you stay.
no one leaves home unless home chases you
fire under feet
hot blood in your belly
it's not something you ever thought of doing
until the blade burnt threats into
your neck
and even then you carried the anthem under
your breath
only tearing up your passport in an airport toilets
sobbing as each mouthful of paper
made it clear that you wouldn't be going back.
you have to understand,
that no one puts their children in a boat
unless the water is safer than the land
no one burns their palms
under trains
beneath carriages
no one spends days and nights in the stomach of a truck
feeding on newspaper unless the miles travelled
means something more than journey.
no one crawls under fences
no one wants to be beaten
pitied
no one chooses refugee camps
or strip searches where your
body is left aching
or prison,
because prison is safer
than a city of fire
and one prison guard
in the night
is better than a truckload
of men who look like your father
no one could take it
no one could stomach it
no one skin would be tough enough
the
go home blacks
refugees
dirty immigrants
asylum seekers
sucking our country dry
niggers with their hands out
they smell strange
savage
messed up their country and now they want
to mess ours up
how do the words
the dirty looks
roll off your backs
maybe because the blow is softer
than a limb torn off
or the words are more tender
than fourteen men between
your legs
or the insults are easier
to swallow
than rubble
than bone
than your child body
in pieces.
i want to go home,
but home is the mouth of a shark
home is the barrel of the gun
and no one would leave home
unless home chased you to the shore
unless home told you
to quicken your legs
leave your clothes behind
crawl through the desert
wade through the oceans
drown
save
be hungry
beg
forget pride
your survival is more important
no one leaves home until home is a sweaty voice in your ear
saying-
leave,
run away from me now
i don't know what i've become
but i know that anywhere
is safer than here.


 
*bump*
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: Jul 9, 2017 - 8:41pm

A few minuted ago I listened to Tom Waits read this wonderful poem. (in a clip in the TW thread).

The Laughing Heart 

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

— by Charles Bukowski


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


Posted: Jul 6, 2017 - 5:05pm

The rain cleaned sky makes
Up for the rain soaked dog and
Me. Worth waiting for.

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: Jun 30, 2017 - 12:20pm

Post Factual Love Poem

I'm thinking of the boiling sea
and the dream in which
all the fish were singing.
I want to wake up with my heart
not aching like death,
but I am always falling
in to terror. I'm a good person.
I grieve to appropriate degrees.
I mourn this season. This moment.
I mourn for the polar bear
drifting out of history
on a wedge of melting ice.
For the doughnut shop
which reached an end
yesterday, after decades and decades.
I'm thinking of the light
at dawn. Of the woman
in Alabama who ordered
six songbirds from a catalog because
she was lonely. Or
heartbroken. I'm thinking
of the four that came
dead in the box, mangled.
Of the two that are
missing. I want to tell you
that they were spotted
in the humid air
winging above a mall.
I want to tell you a story
about the time leaves fell from
the trees all at once. I am
thinking of cataclysm.
More than anything, I want to tell you
this. I want to disappear
in the night. I want
the night to vanish from memory.
I want to tell you
how this happened.

Paul Guest
SeriousLee

SeriousLee Avatar

Location: Dans l'milieu d'deux milles livres


Posted: Jun 18, 2017 - 9:59am

 ScottN wrote:
There Comes the Strangest Moment

There comes the strangest moment in your life,
when everything you thought before breaks free—
what you relied upon, as ground-rule and as rite
looks upside down from how it used to be.

Skin’s gone pale, your brain is shedding cells;
you question every tenet you set down;
obedient thoughts have turned to infidels
and every verb desires to be a noun.

I want—my want. I love—my love. I’ll stay
with you. I thought transitions were the best,
but I want what’s here to never go away.
I’ll make my peace, my bed, and kiss this breast…

Your heart’s in retrograde. You simply have no choice.
Things people told you turn out to be true.
You have to hold that body, hear that voice.
You’d have sworn no one knew you more than you.

How many people thought you’d never change?
But here you have. It’s beautiful. It’s strange.

Kate Light



 
Excellent! I especially like the last two lines.
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: Jun 18, 2017 - 9:24am

There Comes the Strangest Moment

There comes the strangest moment in your life,
when everything you thought before breaks free—
what you relied upon, as ground-rule and as rite
looks upside down from how it used to be.

Skin’s gone pale, your brain is shedding cells;
you question every tenet you set down;
obedient thoughts have turned to infidels
and every verb desires to be a noun.

I want—my want. I love—my love. I’ll stay
with you. I thought transitions were the best,
but I want what’s here to never go away.
I’ll make my peace, my bed, and kiss this breast…

Your heart’s in retrograde. You simply have no choice.
Things people told you turn out to be true.
You have to hold that body, hear that voice.
You’d have sworn no one knew you more than you.

How many people thought you’d never change?
But here you have. It’s beautiful. It’s strange.

Kate Light


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


Posted: Jun 9, 2017 - 5:33am

Cool, lazy morning,
Hot coffee and birds singing.
A beautiful day.


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: Jun 6, 2017 - 9:17am

                   10 (excerpt)
...
The towns clog the valleys like something made of fear.

Fear of loneliness, of dream.
They huddle at the bottom of the hills,
offering up to the hollowed hours a brief and fragile
calmness: glasses of clear water, windowsills of herbs.
And touch, which is sometimes not a lie.
And voices, voices.
like nets cast out into the fear.

Somewhere a child lies in her crib
repeating the names of her parents, the names of her pets
and her toys as she falls off to sleep.
Somewhere a woman cries in a corner.
Somewhere a man thinks of a woman he loved who left him
who is dead.  Somewhere and somewhere. The child
asleep now, the woman  untying her apron,
the man going out to the store.

The world flies by in its fragments,
I remember and do not remember.
Voices, promises. Windows and doorways,
Green valleys, red hills.

Laurie Sheck



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: Jun 5, 2017 - 8:26am

FROM THE DESIRE FIELD

I don't call it sleep anymore.
             I'll risk losing something new instead—

like you lost your rosen moon, shook it loose.

But sometimes when I get my horns in a thing—
a wonder, a grief or a line of her—it is a sticky and ruined
             fruit to unfasten from,

despite my trembling.

Let me call my anxiety, desire, then.
Let me call it, a garden.

Maybe this is what Lorca meant
             when he said, verde que te quiero verde—

because when the shade of night comes,
I am a field of it, of any worry ready to flower in my chest.

My mind in the dark is una bestia, unfocused,
             hot. And if not yoked to exhaustion

beneath the hip and plow of my lover,
then I am another night wandering the desire field—

bewildered in its low green glow,

belling the meadow between midnight and morning.
Insomnia is like Spring that way—surprising
             and many petaled,

the kick and leap of gold grasshoppers at my brow.

I am struck in the witched hours of want—

I want her green life. Her inside me
in a green hour I can't stop.
             Green vein in her throat green wing in my mouth

green thorn in my eye. I want her like a river goes, bending.
Green moving green, moving.

Fast as that, this is how it happens—
             soy una sonambula.

And even though you said today you felt better,
and it is so late in this poem, is it okay to be clear,
             to say, I don't feel good,

to ask you to tell me a story
about the sweet grass you planted—and tell it again
             or again—

until I can smell its sweet smoke,
             leave this thrashed field, and be smooth.

Natalie Diaz


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: Jun 4, 2017 - 12:02pm

For No Good Reason

As if you needed one,
as if you could help it,
for no good reason
a tune out of nowhere
pops into your head
when you least expect,
riffs effortlessly in the
folds of your cerebrum—

your own private jukebox,
your personal music device
on random minus the earbuds—
drumming itself up to keep
you company: here, a little
Janis Joplin while you vacuum
cat hair; there, a John Denver line
as you peel potatoes at the sink.

How can others not hear it,
this frequent odd gift?
Sometimes you forget
and blurt the words to the chorus,
which, after all, is all you can remember,
those take me home, country roads,
that feelin’ good was good enough
for me
, even conjuring

the gas station in Colorado
back where you, wearing
those bell bottoms and that
paisley, were about to fill a tank
of freedom into the blue VW Bug
when Carole King belted out
and it’s too late baby, now it’s too late
though we really did try to make it

and you couldn’t move, couldn’t
quit sobbing to the steering wheel
that would not console those blues
or say what you had left to lose,
wouldn’t question why in hell
you were going down that road
where for no good reason
you seemed to be heading.

Twyla Hansen


ScottFromWyoming
I eat pints
ScottFromWyoming Avatar

Location: Powell
Gender: Male
Zodiac: Pisces
Chinese Yr: Tiger


Posted: May 30, 2017 - 7:41am

 Antigone wrote:

ANOTHER REASON WHY I DON'T KEEP A GUN IN THE HOUSE

by Billy Collins

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.

From "Sailing Alone Around the Room: New and Selected Poems," Random House, 2001



 

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


Posted: May 30, 2017 - 7:16am

ANOTHER REASON WHY I DON'T KEEP A GUN IN THE HOUSE

by Billy Collins

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.

From "Sailing Alone Around the Room: New and Selected Poems," Random House, 2001


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


Posted: May 30, 2017 - 7:05am

 ScottN wrote:
BABY

Oh baby, I love you so much
that I call you baby
even though you’re forty-one
years old, wait, I mean forty-two,
but baby, oh Baby, you’re my
exhumation, my unmitigated intubation,
my excoriating ablution
and the garnishment of all my mortal wages,
my silver salver and my radish dish.
There’s some other stuff you are,
Baby, and only some of it has names!
I’ve been exculpated, by you, for sure,
and more than once, as you well know,
for this is love in which we are
amalgamated nevermore to become risibly
insinuated in our alloyship. Battlements
Will crumble, etcetera, Baby, and whatnot
until infinity and infinity double meet
at the corner of You and Me Streets
in a town called, say, Heartburg or Heartsylvania,
Or Babyville, because you’re my baby,
and probably if there was that town,
you’d be mayor, Baby, and Baby Baby,
you could appoint me Poet
Laughing Laureate.

Ron Carlson



 
{#Clap}
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: May 30, 2017 - 6:07am

BABY

Oh baby, I love you so much
that I call you baby
even though you’re forty-one
years old, wait, I mean forty-two,
but baby, oh Baby, you’re my
exhumation, my unmitigated intubation,
my excoriating ablution
and the garnishment of all my mortal wages,
my silver salver and my radish dish.
There’s some other stuff you are,
Baby, and only some of it has names!
I’ve been exculpated, by you, for sure,
and more than once, as you well know,
for this is love in which we are
amalgamated nevermore to become risibly
insinuated in our alloyship. Battlements
Will crumble, etcetera, Baby, and whatnot
until infinity and infinity double meet
at the corner of You and Me Streets
in a town called, say, Heartburg or Heartsylvania,
Or Babyville, because you’re my baby,
and probably if there was that town,
you’d be mayor, Baby, and Baby Baby,
you could appoint me Poet
Laughing Laureate.

Ron Carlson


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


Posted: May 21, 2017 - 5:56pm

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

~Rumi


Red_Dragon

Red_Dragon Avatar



Posted: May 21, 2017 - 4:27pm

 Antigone wrote:
Pity the nation whose people are sheep,
and whose shepherds mislead them.
Pity the nation whose leaders are liars, whose sages are silenced,
and whose bigots haunt the airwaves.
Pity the nation that raises not its voice,
except to praise conquerors and acclaim the bully as hero
and aims to rule the world with force and by torture.
Pity the nation that knows no other language but its own
and no other culture but its own.
Pity the nation whose breath is money
and sleeps the sleep of the too well fed.
Pity the nation — oh, pity the people who allow their rights to erode
and their freedoms to be washed away.
My country, tears of thee, sweet land of liberty.
~ Lawrence Ferlinghetti



 
+1
Antigone
Thumbs Up!
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Location: A house, in a Virginian Valley
Gender: Female
Zodiac: Aquarius
Chinese Yr: Rat


Posted: May 21, 2017 - 3:36pm

Pity the nation whose people are sheep,
and whose shepherds mislead them.
Pity the nation whose leaders are liars, whose sages are silenced,
and whose bigots haunt the airwaves.
Pity the nation that raises not its voice,
except to praise conquerors and acclaim the bully as hero
and aims to rule the world with force and by torture.
Pity the nation that knows no other language but its own
and no other culture but its own.
Pity the nation whose breath is money
and sleeps the sleep of the too well fed.
Pity the nation — oh, pity the people who allow their rights to erode
and their freedoms to be washed away.
My country, tears of thee, sweet land of liberty.
~ Lawrence Ferlinghetti




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