|
|
#1
|
||||
|
||||
|
I've always been a fan of poetry, and so I suppose I thought this would be a good place for us to share our favourite poetry with each other. It'd be nice to get to know other people's tastes, and broaden my horizons.
|
| . |
|
#2
|
||||
|
||||
|
From 100 Love Sonnets
by Pablo Neruda I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this: Where “I” does not exist, nor “You”, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. The Stones by Sylvia Plath This is the city where men are mended. I lie on a great anvil. The flat blue sky-circle Flew off like the hat of a doll When I fell out of the light. I entered The stomach of indifference, the wordless cupboard. The mother of pestles diminished me. I became a still pebble. The stones of the belly were peaceable, The head-stone quiet, jostled by nothing. Only the mouth-hole piped out, Importunate cricket In a quarry of silences. The people of the city heard it. They hunted the stones, taciturn and separate, The mouth-hole crying their locations. Drunk as a foetus I suck at the paps of darkness. The food tubes embrace me. Sponges kiss my lichens away. The jewelmaster drives his chisel to pry Open one stone eye. This is the after-hell: I see the light. A wind unstoppers the chamber Of the ear, old worrier. Water mollifies the flint lip, And daylight lays its sameness on the wall. The grafters are cheerful, Heating the pincers, hoisting the delicate hammers. A current agitates the wires Volt upon volt. Catgut stitches my fissures. A workman walks by carrying a pink torso. The storerooms are full of hearts. This is the city of spare parts. My swaddled legs and arms smell sweet as rubber. Here they can doctor heads, or any limb. On Fridays the little children come To trade their hooks for hands. Dead men leave eyes for others. Love is the uniform of my bald nurse. Love is the bone and sinew of my curse. The vase, reconstructed, houses The elusive rose. Ten fingers shape a bowl for shadows. My mendings itch. There is nothing to do. I shall be good as new. A.E. Housman Give me a land of boughs in leaf, A land of trees that stand; Where trees are fallen, there is grief; I love no leafless land. |
|
#3
|
||||
|
||||
|
I know it's a bit cliche as a FM fan but it's such an atmospheric piece:
Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening~ Robert Frost. Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. We studied this in class last year and it's imagery has haunted me: Wilfred Owen Dulce Et Decorum Est Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs And towards our distant rest began to trudge. Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots Of disappointed shells that dropped behind. GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling, Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time; But someone still was yelling out and stumbling And floundering like a man in fire or lime.-- Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning. If in some smothering dreams you too could pace Behind the wagon that we flung him in, And watch the white eyes writhing in his face, His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin; If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs, Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,-- My friend, you would not tell with such high zest To children ardent for some desperate glory, The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori. And something from when I was tiny: I eat my peas with honey, I've done it all my life, It makes the peas taste funny, But it keeps them on the knife. (can't recall the author) I love your inputs already Bee Poetry is brilliant.
__________________
~The band went past their allotted time, and the power was shut off. Mick Fleetwood kept drumming. ~Love is my higher power. Family is my strength. Art is my passion - Kat Von D |
|
#4
|
||||
|
||||
|
Great idea for a thread! I spend my days teaching poetry to teens (and the majority are reluctant to study it), so will be nice to discuss on here. Am on my way out now so will have a think and post later.
Oh and Becca - 'But I have promises to keep, And Miles to go before I sleep' is one of my favourite lines of poetry. Last edited by poetinmyheart; 12-10-2011 at 03:03 PM.. |
|
#5
|
||||
|
||||
|
Quote:
__________________
~The band went past their allotted time, and the power was shut off. Mick Fleetwood kept drumming. ~Love is my higher power. Family is my strength. Art is my passion - Kat Von D |
|
#6
|
||||
|
||||
|
The Laughing Heart by Charles Bukowski
your life is your life don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission. be on the watch. there are ways out. there is a 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. --------------------------------------------------------------- I Carry Your Heart With Me by E.E. Cummings I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it (anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling) I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet ) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart) -------------------------------------------------------------------- Alone by Edgar Allan Poe From childhood’s hour I have not been As others were; I have not seen As others saw; I could not bring My passions from a common spring. From the same source I have not taken My sorrow; I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone; And all I loved, I loved alone. Then- in my childhood, in the dawn Of a most stormy life- was drawn From every depth of good and ill The mystery which binds me still: From the torrent, or the fountain, From the red cliff of the mountain, From the sun that round me rolled In its autumn tint of gold, From the lightning in the sky As it passed me flying by, From the thunder and the storm, And the cloud that took the form (When the rest of Heaven was blue) Of a demon in my view. ----------------------------------------------- |
|
#7
|
||||
|
||||
|
Also, while we're on the topic of poetry - I saw these in a bookstore today. The picture doesn't do them justice. They're hardback anthologies. Really pretty. They were on display next to the Penguin Hardback Classic collection, which I also have my eye on. Would make nice gifts I think. I'm going to buy a couple for some friends for Xmas (and start hinting to my family for myself!)
|
![]() |
|
|

$5.98
Fleetwood Mac The Alternate Collection 8LP Vinyl Box Set Sealed RSD 2022 Limited
$180.00
Fleetwood Mac Rumours 2024 Forest Green Vinyl LP Limited Edition Reissue NM/NM
$51.00
Fleetwood Mac MIRAGE lp Warner Bros. Original Inner Sleeve 1982 VG Vinyl
$22.00
FLEETWOOD MAC Lifetime Collection LOT Ticket Stubs Vinyl Records Cd STEVIE Nicks
$333.33