Poetry here.
-
Gary Childress
- Posts: 11748
- Joined: Sun Sep 25, 2011 3:08 pm
- Location: It's my fault
Re: Poetry here.
Or is two lines the best you can do?
-
marjoram_blues
- Posts: 1629
- Joined: Sat Mar 28, 2015 12:50 pm
Re: Poetry here.
Sorray, da muse has left the building.
Goodbyeee
Goodbyeee
-
Gary Childress
- Posts: 11748
- Joined: Sun Sep 25, 2011 3:08 pm
- Location: It's my fault
Re: Poetry here.
Come back oh great muse!marjoram_blues wrote:Sorray, da muse has left the building.
Goodbyeee
To leave is no use
To end this abuse
May we call it a truce?
-
marjoram_blues
- Posts: 1629
- Joined: Sat Mar 28, 2015 12:50 pm
Spirit of the thread/ 'Aesthetics' forum
Psychonaut wrote :Can we keep this thread for dumping of poetry, and perhaps commenting on a particular poem's qualities, rather than discussing issues of poetry?
Me:
Apologies for recent contraventon of the spirit of this thread. But sometimes a poem raises questions which I guess should be transferred out but closeness in time and place make it more convenient. The problem then is when it continues...in competitive fun. Oooops
[...]
Edited to de!ete further discussion concerning potential additions, subtractions and changes to subforums.
Me:
Apologies for recent contraventon of the spirit of this thread. But sometimes a poem raises questions which I guess should be transferred out but closeness in time and place make it more convenient. The problem then is when it continues...in competitive fun. Oooops
[...]
Edited to de!ete further discussion concerning potential additions, subtractions and changes to subforums.
Re: Poetry here.
Plane where have you been and gone
A man in the shape of an angel with rubber shoes
Recently you've been going missing or just plain crashing
An explosion in the sky. Raining debris. Passengers' belongings.
A man in the shape of an angel with rubber shoes
Recently you've been going missing or just plain crashing
An explosion in the sky. Raining debris. Passengers' belongings.
Re: Poetry here.
Litany
by Billy Collins
You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine...
-Jacques Crickillon
You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.
However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.
It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.
And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.
It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.
I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.
I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.
- Billy Collins
by Billy Collins
You are the bread and the knife,
The crystal goblet and the wine...
-Jacques Crickillon
You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.
However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.
It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.
And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.
It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.
I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.
I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.
- Billy Collins
Re: Poetry here.
THE MIRROR
As darkness fell,
Russian thugs sparked a fight
By throwing chairs and bottles
At a group of England supporters.
As darkness fell,
Russian thugs sparked a fight
By throwing chairs and bottles
At a group of England supporters.
Re: Poetry here.
the prison window looks out onto the city
the sky and the sea I can see too
the boats and the planes and the birds
it never seems so beautiful than at night
when all is still
the sky and the sea I can see too
the boats and the planes and the birds
it never seems so beautiful than at night
when all is still
Re: Poetry here.
There was a blue sky, like the sea
Covered not by clouds
But by flat brown clods of earth
It looked as if the clouds were breaking apart
And the blue water of the sea were becoming visible between them
But the water was the blue sky
Suddenly there appeared from the right a winged being sailing across the sky
I saw that it was an old man with the horns of a bull
He held a bunch of four keys, one of which he clutched as if he were about to open a lock
Since I did not understand this dream image, I painted it in order to impress it upon my memory
Psychologically Philemon represented superior insight
He was a mysterious figure to me
Covered not by clouds
But by flat brown clods of earth
It looked as if the clouds were breaking apart
And the blue water of the sea were becoming visible between them
But the water was the blue sky
Suddenly there appeared from the right a winged being sailing across the sky
I saw that it was an old man with the horns of a bull
He held a bunch of four keys, one of which he clutched as if he were about to open a lock
Since I did not understand this dream image, I painted it in order to impress it upon my memory
Psychologically Philemon represented superior insight
He was a mysterious figure to me
Re: Poetry here.
in a democracy can u not hit them with a hammer
like you would in a open totalitarian state
no, you have to control what they think
this we do through television, newspapers, radio
and film
the whole culture does it actually, being in it
means being of it, you are a product of the system
sleep well!
like you would in a open totalitarian state
no, you have to control what they think
this we do through television, newspapers, radio
and film
the whole culture does it actually, being in it
means being of it, you are a product of the system
sleep well!
Re: Poetry here.
He had made an offer
That was clear
They both understood the lines
Which surrounded them both
Outside it was now raining
The earth turning upon its axis
Tomorrow was a new day he thought
That was clear
They both understood the lines
Which surrounded them both
Outside it was now raining
The earth turning upon its axis
Tomorrow was a new day he thought
Re: Poetry here.
The time was close
You could see the changes being made
To get the to the place where the people had to be
They new nothing, along with the work and buying a house that was all
Designed that way, of course, what else. The family it was seen was too a kind of prison.
You could see the changes being made
To get the to the place where the people had to be
They new nothing, along with the work and buying a house that was all
Designed that way, of course, what else. The family it was seen was too a kind of prison.
Re: Poetry here.
Another Reason Why I Don’t Keep A Gun In The House
Billy Collins
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.
Billy Collins
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.
Re: Poetry here.
That people
Are so indoctrinated
To reach them
Entry has to be
Easy
Are so indoctrinated
To reach them
Entry has to be
Easy