Poetry | |
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daleth (OP) User ID: 46968 Netherlands 12/05/2005 10:54 PM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | The Genius Of The Crowd there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average human being to supply any given army on any given day and the best at murder are those who preach against it and the best at hate are those who preach love and the best at war finally are those who preach peace those who preach god, need god those who preach peace do not have peace those who preach peace do not have love beware the preachers beware the knowers beware those who are always reading books beware those who either detest poverty or are proud of it beware those quick to praise for they need praise in return beware those who are quick to censor they are afraid of what they do not know beware those who seek constant crowds for they are nothing alone beware the average man the average woman beware their love, their love is average seeks average but there is genius in their hatred there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you to kill anybody not wanting solitude not understanding solitude they will attempt to destroy anything that differs from their own not being able to create art they will not understand art they will consider their failure as creators only as a failure of the world not being able to love fully they will believe your love incomplete and then they will hate you and their hatred will be perfect like a shining diamond like a knife like a mountain like a tiger like hemlock their finest art --Charles Bukowski |
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JC User ID: 33852 United States 12/05/2005 11:02 PM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | I can`t say I have a fav,too many good ones to choose. Annabel Lee a poem by Edgar Allan Poe It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea; But we loved with a love that was more than love- I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsman came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea. The angels, not half so happy in heaven, Went envying her and me- Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we- Of many far wiser than we- And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride, In the sepulchre there by the sea, In her tomb by the sounding sea. |
daleth (OP) User ID: 46968 Netherlands 12/05/2005 11:05 PM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Contemplation Of The Sword Reason will not decide at last; the sword will decide. The sword: an obsolete instrument of bronze or steel, formerly used to kill men, but here In the sense of a symbol. The sword: that is: the storms and counter-storms of general destruction; killing of men, Destruction of all goods and materials; massacre, more or less intentional, of children and women; Destruction poured down from wings, the air made accomplice, the innocent air Perverted into assasin and poisoner. The sword: that is: treachery and cowardice, incredible baseness, incredible courage, loyalties, insanities. The sword: weeping and despair, mass-enslavement, mass-tourture, frustration of all hopes That starred man´s forhead. Tyranny for freedom, horror for happiness, famine for bread, carrion for children. Reason will not decide at last, the sword will decide. Dear God, who are the whole splendor of things and the sacred stars, but also the cruelty and greed, the treacheries And vileness, insanities and filth and anguish: now that this thing comes near us again I am finding it hard To praise you with a whole heart. I know what pain is, but pain can shine. I know what death is, I have sometimes Longed for it. But cruelty and slavery and degredation, pestilence, filth, the pitifulness Of men like hurt little birds and animals . . . if you were only Waves beating rock, the wind and the iron-cored earth, With what a heart I could praise your beauty. You will not repent, nor cancel life, nor free man from anguish For many ages to come. You are the one that tortures himself to discover himself: I am One that watches you and discovers you, and praises you in little parables, idyl or tragedy, beautiful Intolerable God. The sword: that is: I have two sons whom I love. They are twins, they were born in nineteen sixteen, which seemed to us a dark year Of a great war, and they are now of the age That war prefers. The first-born is like his mother, he is so beautiful That persons I hardly know have stopped me on the street to speak of the grave beauty of the boy´s face. The second-born has strength for his beauty; when he strips for swimming the hero shoulders and wrestler loins Make him seem clothed. The sword: that is: loathsome disfigurements, blindness, mutilation, locked lips of boys Too proud to scream. Reason will not decide at last: the sword will decide. --Robinson Jeffers |
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daleth (OP) User ID: 46994 Netherlands 12/06/2005 12:25 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | The League of Nations Light on the towns and cities, and peace for evermore! The Big Five met in the world´s light as many had met before, And the future of man is settled and there shall be no more war. The lamb shall lie down with the lion, and trust with treachery; The brave man go with the coward, and the chained mind shackle the free, And the truthful sit with the liar ever by land and sea. And there shall be no more passion and no more love nor hate; No more contempt for the paltry, no more respect for the great; And the people shall breed like rabbits and mate as animals mate. For lo! the Big Five have said it, each with a fearsome frown; Each for his chosen country, State, and city and town; Each for his lawn and table and the bed where he lies him down. Cobbler and crank and chandler, magpie and ape disguised; Each bound to his grocery corner – these are the Five we prized; Bleating the teaching of others whom they ever despised. But three shall meet in a cellar, companions of mildew and rats; And three shall meet in a garret, pungent with stench of the cats, And three in a cave in the forest where the torchlight maddens the bats – Bats as blind as the people, streaming into the glare – And the Nine shall turn the nations back to the plain things there; Tracing in chalk and charcoal treaties that none can tear: Truth that goes higher than airships and deeper than submarines, And a message swifter than wireless – and none shall know what it means – Till an army is rushed together and ready behind the scenes. The Big Five sit together in the light of the World and day, Each tied to his grocery corner though he travel the world for aye, Each bleating the dreams of dreamers whom he has despised alway. And intellect shall be tortured, and art destroyed for a span – The brute shall defile the pictures as he did when the age began; He shall hawk and spit in the palace to prove that he is a man. Cobbler and crank and chandler, magpie and ape disguised; Each bound to his grocery corner – these are the Five we prized; Bleating the teaching of others whom they ever despised. Let the nations scatter their armies and level their arsenals well, Let them blow their airships to Heaven and sink their warships to Hell, Let them maim the feet of the runner and silence the drum and the bell; But shapes shall glide from the cellar who never had dared to "strike", And shapes shall drop from the garret (ghastly and so alike) To drag from the cave in the forest powder and cannon and pike. As of old, we are sending a message to Garcia still – Smoke from the peak by sunlight, beacon by night from the hill; And the drum shall throb in the distance – the drum that never was still. --Henry Lawson |
Anonymous Coward User ID: 12 Netherlands 12/06/2005 09:31 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | The Secret Two girls discover the secret of life in a sudden line of poetry. Ê I who don´t know the secret wrote the line. They told me Ê (through a third person) they had found it but not what it was not even Ê what line it was.Ê No doubt by now, more than a week later, they have forgotten the secret, Ê the line, the name of the poem.Ê I love them for finding what I can´t find, Ê and for loving me for the line I wrote, and for forgetting it so that Ê a thousand times, till death finds them, they may discover it again, in other lines Ê in other happenings.Ê And for wanting to know it, for Ê assuming there is such a secret, yes, for that most of all. -- from Denise Levertov: Selected Poems, by Denise Levertov |
Anonymous Coward User ID: 12 Netherlands 12/06/2005 09:33 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | All which, because it was flame and song and granted us joy, we thought we´d do, be, revisit, turns out to have been what it was that once, only; every invitation did not begin a series, a build-up: the marvelous did happen in our lives, our stories are not drab with its absence: but don´t expect to return for more. Whatever more there will be will be unique as those were unique. Try to acknowledge the next song in its bodyÊ-- halo of flames as utterly present, as now or never. - Denise Levertov |
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scimitar User ID: 23006 United States 12/06/2005 10:21 AM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Wedding poem I wrote many years ago..... As this moment does pass, My heart knows there is no greener grass. As eternity waits ahead, My soul cherishes the words about to be said. With the grace of God my our lives bud and bloom, Like all those precious flowers that chase away gloom, But unlike those flowers that wither and die, I pray that our love shall last forever in God´s eternal eye. One Truth..... many realities Unfortunately I wrote it for the wrong person |
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Mystic Poet nli User ID: 47134 United Kingdom 12/06/2005 12:27 PM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Redemption. As this year exits, it makes sense Such is the tyrant´s recompense. He who is evil can receive no good So repent he surely should Gaining comfort Jesus sent To Earth, Gods only son he lent It’s Christmas time so rejoice Good or evil, it’s your choice But rest assured this is true Your sins harm only one…. That’s you. No place to hide, no sanctuary found High in the mountains, nor underground For justice comes in still of night And in a blaze of glorious light The angels all with one accord Will smite you with a golden sword Atonement surely now awaits Your fate is sealed beyond the gates Both Heaven and Hell flung open wide Only redemption quells tormented cries mp |
Mystic Poet nli User ID: 47134 United Kingdom 12/06/2005 12:30 PM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Like a grain of sand in the sole of my shoe With each step I take, I’m reminded of you Sometimes you lead, at others behind Never far away, yet so hard to find An annoyance, a distraction, causing me pain Walking or running all is in vain I can’t seem to empty you out of my mind Like that grain of sand so elusive to find Making me stumble, making me limp Although I am moaning I’m not a wimp I keep on marching towards my goal Around the equator, from pole to pole My skin is so dark black as the night At others so pale whiter than white At times I am yellow not out of fear At others a red man crying a tear I’m a universal soldier, wherever I’m sent It’s me waging war on the poor innocent. Dear conscious you’re with me wherever I roam Lead me out of this darkness, help me find my way home. mp |
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Porky User ID: 47161 United Kingdom 12/06/2005 02:52 PM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Here´s one i wrote about a month ago. How free i soar the fields and sea Of body and spirit i travel to thee Speak to me of love untold And make me strong with words you hold How happy i lay on fields and air In dreams and visons i see you there Speak to me till your lips are bare Your music is sweeter if i kiss you there |
Anonymous Coward User ID: 12 Netherlands 12/06/2005 02:56 PM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | Porky and Bess: Summertime Summertime and the livin´ is easy Fish are jumpin´ and the cotton is fine Oh your Daddy´s rich and your ma is good lookin´ So hush little baby, don´t you cry One of these mornings You´re goin´ to rise up singing Then you´ll spread your wings And you´ll take the sky But till that morning There´s a nothin´ can harm you With daddy and mammy standin´ by |
Eagle # 1 User ID: 47160 United States 12/06/2005 04:17 PM Report Abusive Post Report Copyright Violation | A poem to Gail T. Standing By Like the flower, with petals spread, For the butterfly, is plucked instead; So ´oft we find, when we´re alone, In the body lives a heart of stone. That beats transfixed, the endless day, Vibrating love, it can´t convey; Yet would intone, till hills resound, "Life has begun; my loves been found ! Since Adam took the second bite, Your not alone, and in the night; Remember He, is standing by; And if needed, so am I ! Eagle |