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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/17/2005 10:35:24 PM | Since it is Christmas...
Roses are reddish
Violets are blueish;
If it wasn't for Christmas...
We'd all be Jewish.
Ha ha! And to think it's theologically sound as well... | |
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/18/2005 2:57:43 AM | cynical me
i've got great news
you should hear
i found a new show
it is sexy and weird
it is scheduled for the
fall
the season of the
flu
you should know this show
is a riot
and got rave
reviews
it's particapants
are funny, and from many
different class
they giggle
and debate
even show a little azz
some critics do complain
and gave the
down
who really gives a faock
movie critics are really
clowns
well i am sure you wanna
the name of this show
it's a reality flick
if you really must know
i find it hilarious
and it is funny to see
you will laugh and you
will cry
it's POF...
more fishies in the sea
 | |
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/18/2005 7:01:57 AM | Too often we are swayed
from love's pleasured path
by wanting and needing things
that we don't have.
What is right in front of us
is what we don't see
so blinded by lust
for something other than "we"
Life's journey is treacherous
it's distractions are great
often times we lose focus
not realizing til too late
that what we lust after
with its glimmer and shine
pales in comparison to what
we had all the time
So hold fast to your dreams
in your partner have faith
stay there on love's pathway
and keep your priorities straight. | |
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Dryad
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Joined: 7/19/2005
Msg: 54 | |
| Out of the cradle...
Posted: 12/21/2005 7:14:52 PM | I just reread this one tonight… the beginning of one of my favourites of his.
Out of the cradle endlessly rocking
Whitman
Out of the cradle endlessly rocking,
Out of the mocking-bird’s throat, the musical shuttle,
Out of the Ninth-month midnight,
Over the sterile sands, and the fields beyond, where the child, leaving his bed, wander’d alone, bare-headed, barefoot,
Down from the shower’d halo,
Up from the mystic play of shadows, twining and twisting as if they were alive,
Out from the patches of briers and blackberries,
From the memories of the bird that chanted to me,
From your memories, sad brother—from the fitful risings and fallings I heard,
From under that yellow half-moon, late-risen, and swollen as if with tears,
From those beginning notes of sickness and love, there in the transparent mist,
From the thousand responses of my heart, never to cease,
From the myriad thence-arous’d words,
From the word stronger and more delicious than any,
From such, as now they start, the scene revisiting,
As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing,
Borne hither—ere all eludes me, hurriedly,
A man—yet by these tears a little boy again,
Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves,
I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter,
Taking all hints to use them—but swiftly leaping beyond them,
A reminiscence sing.
… | |
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leo210
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Joined: 11/13/2005
Msg: 55 | |
| r2
Posted: 12/21/2005 7:41:31 PM | | opps didnt mean to post | |
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| dickinson
Posted: 12/21/2005 7:59:26 PM | My life closed twice before it's close
it yet remains to see
if immortality unveils
a third event to me
so huge so hopeless to conceive
as these that twice befell
parting is all we know of heaven
and all we need of hell | |
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/21/2005 11:21:48 PM | I Murder Hate
by Robert Burns
I murder hate by flood or field,
Tho' glory's name may screen us;
In wars at home I'll spend my blood-
Life-giving wars of Venus.
The deities that I adore
Are social Peace and Plenty;
I'm better pleas'd to make one more,
Than be the death of twenty.
I would not die like Socrates,
For all the fuss of Plato;
Nor would I with Leonidas,
Nor yet would I with Cato:
The zealots of the Church and State
Shall ne'er my mortal foes be;
But let me have bold Zimri's fate,
Within the arms of Cozbi!
Peace  | |
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/21/2005 11:24:09 PM | How Do I Love Thee?
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, -- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! -- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
Peace | |
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/22/2005 11:37:47 AM | I love the way you hold your head,
The way you hold your lips so red,
But most of all (and none does slicker)
I love the way you hold your liquor! | |
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/22/2005 11:44:17 AM | Remember Me while I'm Alive
I would rather have a little
rose from the garden of a friend,
That flowers strewn around
my casket when my days on
earth must end.
I would rather have a living
smile from one I know is true,
Than tears shed 'round my casket when
this world I bid adieu.
Bring me all the flowers today
Whether pink or white or red.
I would rather have one blossom now,
Than a truckload when I am dead!
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/22/2005 11:45:07 AM | 4587
I’ll Always Love You
29 November 2005
Where were you
when the desire was present
Even if some of these moments
may be that of resent
To take a heart
and wrap it soft
Hoisted upon shoulder
this Daddy held you aloft
He might be gone
but you will always have him near
This Father of your own
captured within a heart so dear
Never give up what you will always have
even when they try to take that away
Because deep inside He will be there
this man of momentum you
see in memory each day
“Daddy’s Girl”
“Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father
which is in heaven is perfect.”
Matthew 5: 48 KJV
© 2005 Christopher W Herbert (a New Zealand Poet)
a poet who cares | |
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/22/2005 3:35:22 PM | This poem was forwarded to me by a good friend.
The poem was written by a terminally ill girl
> It was sent by a medical doctor - Make sure to read
> what is in the closing statement AFTER THE POEM.
> SLOW DANCE
>
> Have you ever watched kids
> On a merry-go-round?
> Or listened to the rain
> Slapping on the ground?
> Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?
> Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?
> You better slow down.
> Don't dance so fast.
> Time is short.
> The music won't last.
>
> Do you run through each day
> On the fly?
> When you ask, "How are you?"
> Do you hear the reply?
> When the day isdone
> Do you lie in your bed
> With the next hundred chores
> Running through your head?
> You'd better slow down
> Don't dance so fast.
> Time is short.
> The music won't last.
>
> Ever told your child,
> We'll do it tomorrow?
> And in your haste,
> Not see his sorrow?
> Ever lost touch,
> Let a good friendship die
> Cause you never had time
> To call and say,"Hi"
> You'd better slow down.
> Don't dance so fast.
> Time is short.
> The music won't last.
>
>
> When you run so fast to get somewhere
> You miss half the fun of getting there.
> When you worry and hurry through your day,
> It is like an unopened gift....
> Thrown away.
> Life is not a race.
> Do take it slower
> Hear the music
> Before the song is over | |
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/22/2005 3:47:24 PM | Christmas Poem?
Dear God,
I Hope you got the letter and
I pray that you can make it better down here.
I don't need a big reduction in the price of beer.
But all the people that you made in your image,
See them starving on their feet
'Cause they don't get enough to eat
From God.
I Can't believe in you.
Dear God,
Sorry to disturb you but,
I feel that I should be heard loud and clear.
We all need a big reduction in amounts of
tears.
But all the people that you made in your image,
See them fighting in the street
'Cause they can't make opinions meet
About God.
Can't believe in you.
Did you make disease
And the diamond blue?
Did you make mankind
After we made you?
And the Devil too...
Dear God,
Don't know if you've noticed but
Your name is on a lot of quotes in this Book.
Us crazy humans wrote it; you should take a look.
And all the people that you made in your image
Still believin' that junk is true.
Well, I know it ain't and so do you,
Dear God.
I can't believe in...
I don't believe in...
I won't believe in Heaven and Hell,
No saints, no sinners, no Devil as well,
No pearly gates, no thorny crown.
You're always lettin' us humans down.
The wars you bring, the babes you drown,
Those lost at sea and never found.
And it's the same the whole world 'round,
The hurt I see helps to compound
The Father, Son and Holy Ghost
Is just somebody's unholy hoax.
And if you're up there, you perceive
That my heart's here upon my sleeve.
If there's one thing I don't believe in...
It's you,
Dear God. | |
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/23/2005 1:33:11 AM | Here is one by someone newer.
Revealing Inside Out
Staring eyes, reaching through the soul of mine own.
Whispering words, lashing out to capture a heart.
Beating my thoughts, changing direction, ready to start.
Blatantly choosing new rules to play by, not written in stone
She charges with hidden quests, conjuring a new morale.
Hiding the true essence, of her decisive choice of words.
Throwing out a multitude of darts, flying like birds.
They fly at me with certainty, I'm not sure how.
Then I mention her charming state of mind.
She turns to make remark, no more hidden words.
Now she shows her kindness cautioning her sigh.
The likes of which reveal the gentle kiss she blows.
Being followed by her touch, in a gentle, caring, fashion.
A smile moves upon her face knowing what she knows.
Robert M Pike
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/23/2005 2:06:31 AM | Here are some others by the same author,
The Pursuit of Capture
(Find the one that makes you want to be more than you were before.)
Sensual woman, where do you go hiding from your pain?
You must keep choosing wisely the company that you keep.
Desire in your heart pounds on my door, in vain?
The completion of your tasks may be too steep.
Not so much that it could not be overcome.
Most likely you will find all that you yearn for.
Your Spirit within is reaching to grasp at that special one.
Shall you turn and see the eyes outside your door?
Now she plays with me toying with emotions injured before.
I place myself within her clutches removing all my precaution.
Blindly walking, she lifts my feet up off the floor.
Seeing her not, yet she keeps my thoughts so awesome.
I will continue chasing her "kisses" anywhere on this earth.
No--one--has ever "touched" me this way, in verse.
Robert M Pike©
One more of a different nature,
The difference perhaps because the first two were written while in love. The follow is of bitter resentment towards the woman discarding men like tissues...
A Womans Desire for Social Stature
Sensuality grasping at strangers holding tongues amiss.
Desires flowing freely amongst the young ones lust.
Waiting to quench the thirst of those that take their sip.
Reaching to feel the touch of the genders ample bust.
Somehow tripping over tongues that hang too low.
Valiant efforts present themselves to all those that show their beauty.
Resisting all the slackers that reach for all too slow.
Waiting for the rich man’s eyes with all his abundant bounty.
Pushing away all those that only show of dreams.
She announces yet another cast away to the side.
Having used him till the realization comes apart at the seams.
She looks casually at the newcomers, where do they reside?
The conditioning of the parents has force us to more abandon.
Witnessing the deflowering of the innocense of youth.
Somewhere beneath the surface lies something quite less random.
Having found a point of interest but questioning their truth.
All those that meet the dreamer ideally avoid the issues.
To submit to ideals that only bring forth more pursuit.
Robert M Pike©
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/23/2005 10:38:22 PM | Some of you may have heard of a little movie called 'the Crow' starring Brandon Lee. Well long before it was a movie, it was an independantly published comic book. And here is a poem taken from it.
My kitten walks on velvet feet
And makes no sound at all;
And in the doorway nightly sits
To watch the darkness fall.
I think he loves the lady, Night,
And feels akin to her
Whose footsteps are as still as his,
Whose touch as soft as fur.
by Lois Weakley McKay | |
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/24/2005 1:55:46 PM | Remember how it all began
The apple and the fall of man
The price we pay
So the people say
Down the path of shame it led us
Dared to bite the hand
That fed us fairy tale and moral end
Wheel of Fortune
Never turns again
The worst of it has come and gone
And the chaos of millenium
And the falling out of the doomsday crowd
Their last retreat is moving slow
They burn their bridges as they go
The heretic is beautified
Teach the harlot's child to smile
Rocked again by indecision
Should we make that small incision
Testify to the bleeding heart inside
We cut, we scratched, we rend, we slashed
And when he opened up at last
Found a cul de sac
Deep and black
Smoke and ash
Deep and black
Smoke and ash
The wicked king of Parodies
Kissing all his enemies
On the seventh day
Of the seventh week
Tyrant's voice is softened now
But just for one forgiving hour
Before the rise of his
Iron fist again
Fist again
I've come tonight
I've come to know
The way we are
The way we'll go
And to measure this
Width of the wide abyss
I come to you in restless sleep
Where all your dreams turn bittersweet
With voodoo doll philosophies
Day glow holy trinities
The crooked raft that leaves the shore
Ferries drunken souls aboard
Pilgrims march to Compostela
Visions of their saint in yellow
Follow deep in trance
Lost in a catatonic dance
Know no future
Damn the past
Blind, warm, ecstatic
Safe at last | |
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| My Favorite Poem
Posted: 12/26/2005 3:39:22 PM | "Carpe Diem"
(written in May/June 1998)
"Carpe Diem": Sieze the day
Live for the moment, live for the day,
Dare to do, and dare to say,
And live your life the spontanious way.
Enjoy all that you have right here
The faint spring breeze approaching near
Making the sweet smell of grass appear
And blowing through the sky so clear.
The warm rays of sun shining down
So warm it melts away every frown
Shining more golden than any crown
In any country or any town.
See the dew, like crystal beads
As daytime comes, the dew recedes
Till silently the grass then pleads
For the moisture that it needs.
Listen now to each bird's song
Some are short and some are long
Some are quiet, others strong
But all the melodies do belong.
For long enought this poem's gone on
And other endeavours will come anon
And tomorrow another day shall dawn
So heed my words with all your brawn -
Live your life the very best way
Live for the moment, live for the day,
Dare to do and dare to say | |
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/26/2005 7:44:20 PM | chickery chick chala chala
checkalaromia in a bannana peel
policka wollika cant you see
a chickery chick is me is that a poem? | |
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j-roc
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Joined: 5/24/2005
Msg: 70 | |
| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/27/2005 12:22:01 PM | What Is It That I Search 4
by : Tupac Amaru Shakur
I know not what I search 4
But I know I have yet 2 find it,
Because it is invisible to the eye
My heart must search for it blinded.
And if by chance I find it,
Will I know my mission is achieved?
Can one come 2 conclusions,
Before the question is conceived?
Just as no one knows
What lies beyond the shore,
I will never find the answers 2
What it is that I search 4. | |
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om
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Joined: 10/16/2005
Msg: 71 | |
| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/27/2005 4:47:39 PM | I just love the simplicity in this!
by Robert Browning
Let's contend no more, Love,
Strive nor weep:
All be as before, Love,
-Only sleep!
What so wild as words are?
I and thou
In debate, as birbs are,
Hawk on bough!
See the creacher stalking
While we speak!
Hush and hide the talking,
Cheek on cheek!
What so false as truth is,
False to thee?
Where the serpent's tooth is,
Shun the tree-
Where the apple reddens,
Never pry-
Lest we lose our Edens,
Eve and I.
Be a god and hold me
with a charm!
Be a man and fold me
with thine arm!
Teach me, only teach me, Love!
as I ought.
I will speak thy speech, Love,
Think thy thought-
Meet, if though require it,
Both demands,
Laying flesh and spirit
In thy hands,
That shall be tomorrow,
Not tonight:
I must borrow sorrow
Out of sight:
Must a little weep, Love
( foolish me!)
And so fall asleep, Love,
Loved by thee. | |
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Dryad
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Joined: 7/19/2005
Msg: 72 | |
| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/27/2005 9:11:42 PM | ^^ Robert Browning’s great!
I always loved this one, read aloud... yum, nothing like it. Such a shame Coleridge’s opium-dream inspired lines were interrupted, and so much of poem was never written down.
Kubla Khan
Samuel Taylor Coleridge. 1772–1834
IN Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills
Where blossom'd many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
But O, that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced;
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reach'd the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she play'd,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me,
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise. | |
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/27/2005 9:27:35 PM | Here's one from the criminally underappreciated David Solway. Since he, courageously and honestly, lambastes the Canadian poetry establishment, though, it's not surprising. Poetic careerists, bah ! Shakespeare had a lovely phrase for them in "Timon Of Athens"-- "times flies".
STONES IN WATER
Here at our daily beach
in this low cove
we go hunting for stones,
shells and curious fish,
sea-fretted or salt-stiff
sea currency of all kinds.
The collector's very self
is in us, to bring back trophies
at afternoon's end
and arrange them on the shelf
like small responsibilities
or photos that remind.
We dig like treasure children,
poke at the sand with sticks
or let it sift, hourglass-like,
to learn from a hint of sun
the presence of some husk
or sea-blasted artifact;
but mostly note how stones
in water seem to be alive,
seem to leap or bloom
into their hushed perfections
or flame up into reefs
of angelfish; how they seem
like portholes to another
world of sheer extravagance
of color, spendthrift beauty:
moth-green in an air
of water; essence
of tincture; whaleback blue;
plucked, how drab and lusterless,
like any ordinary stone
we curse for stubbing toes;
or this starfish, sea cross,
that we suddenly found
among a rabble of crabs,
fished out for souvenir
and dumped in a can
to parody the sea,
how the marvelous color,
seraph-red, ebbs to dun,
leaving this salt memory
behind, this minted tint.
We feel a hurt reluctance;
observe how each thing has
its congenial element
in which it radiates, shines,
quickens, ripples, pulses,
as in the very mind of God--
removed from which it falls
into our common desolation
where all things coldly fade
to delegated hells.
We leave the beach to the sun
and other earnest seekers
after treasure, and climb
empty handed toward the blue
prosperity of sky, where stars
will kindle later and gleam
like clear reminders. I love you. | |
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/29/2005 2:59:57 PM | One of my fave poems of grand rhetoric, from Hart Crane (I've retained the wonderful fifth quatrain to memory since I was a teenager):
THE BROKEN TOWER
The bell-rope that gathers God at dawn
Dispatches me as though I dropped down the knell
Of a spent day-- to wander the cathedral lawn
From pit to crucifix, feet chill on steps from hell.
Have you not heard, have you not seen that corps
Of shadows in the tower, whose shoulders sway
Antiphonal carillons launched before
The stars are caught and hived in the sun's ray?
The bells, I say, the bells break down their tower;
And swing I know not where. Their tongues engrave
Membrane through marrow, my long-scattered score
Of broken intervals... And I, their sexton slave !
Oval encyclicals in canyons heaping
The impasse high with choir. Banked voices slain !
Pagodas, campaniles with reveilles outleaping--
O terraced echoes prostrate on the plain ! ...
And so it was I entered the broken world
To trace the visionary company of love, its voice
An instant in the wind (I know not whither hurled)
But not for long to hold each desperate choice.
My word I poured. But was it cognate, scored
Of that tribunal monarch of the air
Whose thigh embronzes earth, strikes crystal Word
In wounds pledged once to hope-- cleft to despair?
The steep encroachments of my blood left me
No answer (could blood hold such a lofty tower
As flings the question true?) -- or is it she
Whose sweet mortality stirs latent power? --
And through whose pulse I hear, counting the strokes
My veins recall and add, revived and sure
The angelus of wars my chest evokes:
What I hold healed, original now, and pure ...
And builds, within, a tower that is not stone
(Not stone can jacket heaven) -- but slip
Of pebbles, -- visible wings of silence sown
In azure circles, widening as they dip
The matrix of the heart, lift down the eye
That shrines the quiet lake and swells a tower ...
The commodious, tall decorum of that sky
Unseals her earth, and lifts love in its shower. | |
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| Post one of your favourite poems
Posted: 12/29/2005 3:20:18 PM | Percy Shelley*Mutability
We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon
Streaking the darkness radiantly
yet soon
night closes round
And they are lost forever
Or like forgotten lyres
Whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast
To whose frail frame
No second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last
We rest
A dream has the power to poison sleep
We rise
one wandering thought pollutes the day
We feel conceive or reason laugh or weep
Embrace fond woe or cast our cares away
It is the same
for be it joy or sorrow
The path of its departure is still free
mans yesterday may never be like his morrow
Naught may endure but mutability | |
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