Home | Community | Message Board


MRCA Tyroler Gluckspilze
Please support our sponsors.

General Interest >> Music, Art, and Media

Welcome to the Shroomery Message Board! You are experiencing a small sample of what the site has to offer. Please login or register to post messages and view our exclusive members-only content. You'll gain access to additional forums, file attachments, board customizations, encrypted private messages, and much more!

Shop: PhytoExtractum Buy Bali Kratom Powder, Kratom Powder for Sale   Kraken Kratom Red Vein Kratom   North Spore Injection Grain Bag, North Spore Mushroom Grow Kits & Cultivation Supplies   Bridgetown Botanicals CBD Edibles   Amazon Incense

Jump to first unread post. Pages: < Back | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | Next >
Offlinedd314
Stranger

Registered: 11/19/17
Posts: 10
Last seen: 7 months, 19 hours
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 3
    #25144488 - 04/16/18 11:59 PM (2 years, 3 months ago)

THE ENIGMAS
By Pablo Neruda

You've asked me what the crustacean spins
between its gold claws
and I reply: the sea knows.
You wonder what the sea squirt waits for in its transparent bell? What
  does it wait for?
I'll tell you: it's waiting for time like you.
You ask me whom the embrace of the alga Macrocystis reaches?
Inquire, inquire at a certain hour, in a certain sea that I know.
You'll doubtlessly ask me about the accursed ivory of the narwhal, so that
  I'll tell you
how the sea unicorn dies harpooned.
You'll perhaps ask me about the halcyonic feathers that tremble
in the pure origins of the austral sea?
And about the polyp's crystalline construction you're no doubt
  pondering
another problem, trying to unriddle it now?
Do you want to know the electric matter of the sea floor's barbs?
The armed stalactite that breaks as it walks?
The hook of the fisher fish, music stretched out
in the depths like a thread in the water?

I want to tell you that the sea knows this,
that life in its coffers
is wide as the sand, countless and pure,
and amid sanguinary grapes time has polished
the hardness of a petal, the medusa's light,
and it has plucked the bouquet of its coral fibers
from a cornucopia of infinite mother-of-pearl.

I'm nothing but the empty net that advances
human eyes, lifeless in that darkness,
fingers accustomed to the triangle, measurements
of an orange's shy hemisphere.

I lived like you probing
the interminable star,
and in my net, at night, I awakened naked,
the only catch, a fish trapped in the wind.


--------------------
“Hold to the now, the here, through which all future plunges to the past.”

― James Joyce, Ulysses


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
InvisibleDividedQuantumM
Outer Head
Male User Gallery

Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 8,704
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: dd314]
    #25144529 - 04/17/18 12:18 AM (2 years, 3 months ago)

Lovely!


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
InvisibleDividedQuantumM
Outer Head
Male User Gallery

Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 8,704
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 2
    #25175646 - 04/30/18 04:21 PM (2 years, 3 months ago)

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
            To me did seem   
        Appareled in celestial light.
The glory and the freshness of a dream.

                                            --Wordsworth


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
Invisiblepineninja
Dream Weaver
 User Gallery


Registered: 08/18/14
Posts: 11,710
Loc: South Flag
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 2
    #25176670 - 05/01/18 12:26 AM (2 years, 3 months ago)

A Dream Within a Dream

BY EDGAR ALLAN POE



Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now,

Thus much let me avow —

You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?  

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.


I stand amid the roar

Of a surf-tormented shore,

And I hold within my hand

Grains of the golden sand —

How few! yet how they creep

Through my fingers to the deep,

While I weep — while I weep!

O God! Can I not grasp 

Them with a tighter clasp?

O God! can I not save

One from the pitiless wave?

Is all that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream?


--------------------
Just a fool on the hill.


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
InvisibleDividedQuantumM
Outer Head
Male User Gallery

Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 8,704
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: pineninja] * 1
    #25192039 - 05/08/18 07:50 PM (2 years, 3 months ago)

The Dream That Must Be Interpreted

by Rumi (trans. Coleman Barks)


This place is a dream.
Only a sleeper considers it real.

Then death comes like dawn,
and you wake up laughing
at what you thought was your grief.

But there's a difference with this dream.
Everything cruel and unconscious
done in the illusion of the present world,
all that does not fade away at the death-waking.

It stays,
and it must be interpreted.

All the mean laughing,
all the quick, sexual wanting,
those torn coats of Joseph,
they change into powerful wolves
that you must face.

The retaliation that sometimes comes now,
the swift, payback hit,
is just a boy's game
to what the other will be.

You know about circumcision here.
It's full castration there!

And this groggy time we live,
this is what it's like:

                              A man goes to sleep in the town
where he has always lived, and he dreams he's living
in another town.

                            In the dream, he doesn't remember
the town he's sleeping in his bed in.  He believes
the reality of the dream town.

The world is that kind of sleep.

The dust of many crumbled cities
settles over us like a forgetful doze,

but we are older than those cities.
                                                    We began
as a mineral.  We emerged into plant life
and into the animal state, and then into being human,
and always we have forgotten our former states,
except in early spring when we slightly recall
being green again.
                            That's how a young person turns
toward a teacher.  That's how a baby leans
toward the breast, without knowing the secret
of its desire, yet turning instinctively.

Humankind is being led along an evolving course,
through this migration of intelligences,
and though we seem to be sleeping,
there is an inner wakefulness
that directs the dream,

and that will eventually startle us back
to the truth of who we are.


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
Invisiblepineninja
Dream Weaver
 User Gallery


Registered: 08/18/14
Posts: 11,710
Loc: South Flag
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 1
    #25193703 - 05/09/18 05:19 PM (2 years, 3 months ago)

Now that's a poem to start my day.:thumbup:


--------------------
Just a fool on the hill.


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
InvisibleDividedQuantumM
Outer Head
Male User Gallery

Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 8,704
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: pineninja] * 1
    #25193831 - 05/09/18 06:42 PM (2 years, 3 months ago)

:smile:


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
InvisibleDividedQuantumM
Outer Head
Male User Gallery

Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 8,704
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 2
    #25199504 - 05/12/18 03:32 PM (2 years, 3 months ago)

I have listened
And I have looked
With open eyes.
I have poured my soul
Into the world
Seeking the unknown
Within the known.
And I sing out loud
In amazement.


                                                    --Rabindranath Tagore


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
Offlineakira_akuma
Φύσις κρύπτεσθαι ὕψιστος φιλεῖ


Registered: 08/28/09
Posts: 82,455
Loc: Onypeirophóros
Last seen: 7 months, 9 days
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 2
    #25205980 - 05/15/18 07:13 PM (2 years, 2 months ago)

Portrait d'une Femme
By Ezra Pound


Your mind and you are our Sargasso Sea,
      London has swept about you this score years
And bright ships left you this or that in fee:
      Ideas, old gossip, oddments of all things,
Strange spars of knowledge and dimmed wares of price.
      Great minds have sought you — lacking someone else.
You have been second always. Tragical?
      No. You preferred it to the usual thing:
One dull man, dulling and uxorious,
      One average mind —  with one thought less, each year.
Oh, you are patient, I have seen you sit
      Hours, where something might have floated up.
And now you pay one.  Yes, you richly pay.
      You are a person of some interest, one comes to you
And takes strange gain away:
      Trophies fished up; some curious suggestion;
Fact that leads nowhere; and a tale for two,
      Pregnant with mandrakes, or with something else
That might prove useful and yet never proves,
      That never fits a corner or shows use,
Or finds its hour upon the loom of days:
      The tarnished, gaudy, wonderful old work;
Idols and ambergris and rare inlays,
      These are your riches, your great store; and yet
For all this sea-hoard of deciduous things,
      Strange woods half sodden, and new brighter stuff:
In the slow float of differing light and deep,
      No! there is nothing! In the whole and all,
Nothing that's quite your own.
                  Yet this is you.


Commission
By Ezra Pound


Go, my songs, to the lonely and the unsatisfied,
Go also to the nerve-racked, go to the enslaved-by-convention,
Bear to them my contempt for their oppressors.
Go as a great wave of cool water,
Bear my contempt of oppressors.

Speak against unconscious oppression,
Speak against the tyranny of the unimaginative,
Speak against bonds.
Go to the bourgeoise who is dying of her ennuis,
Go to the women in suburbs.
Go to the hideously wedded,
Go to them whose failure is concealed,
Go to the unluckily mated,
Go to the bought wife,
Go to the woman entailed.

Go to those who have delicate lust,
Go to those whose delicate desires are thwarted,
Go like a blight upon the Dulness of the world;
Go with your edge against this,
Strengthen the subtle cords,
Bring confidence upon the algae and the tentacles of the soul.
Go in a friendly manner,
Go with an open speech.
Be eager to find new evils and new good,
Be against all forms of oppression.
Go to those who are thickened with middle age,
To those who have lost their interest.

Go to the adolescent who are smothered in family-
Oh how hideous it is
To see three generations of one house gathered together!
It is like an old tree with shoots,
And with some branches rotted and falling.

Go out and defy opinion,
Go against this vegetable bondage of the blood.
Be against all sorts of mortmain



[end all calls to death]


Edited by akira_akuma (05/15/18 07:43 PM)


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
OfflineIsalifrass
Stranger
Registered: 05/28/18
Posts: 75
Last seen: 1 month, 8 days
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: akira_akuma] * 2
    #25245165 - 06/02/18 11:54 PM (2 years, 2 months ago)

Kubla Khan
By Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Or, a vision in a dream. A Fragment.

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 blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! 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 reached 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 played,
  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.


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
InvisibleDividedQuantumM
Outer Head
Male User Gallery

Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 8,704
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: Isalifrass]
    #25245172 - 06/02/18 11:58 PM (2 years, 2 months ago)

:thumbup::thumbup::thumbup:


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
Invisiblepineninja
Dream Weaver
 User Gallery


Registered: 08/18/14
Posts: 11,710
Loc: South Flag
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 1
    #25255329 - 06/08/18 04:23 AM (2 years, 2 months ago)

"Masters Of War"

Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build all the bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin'
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it's your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain

You fasten all the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion'
As young people's blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud

You've thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain't worth the blood
That runs in your veins

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I'm young
You might say I'm unlearned
But there's one thing I know
Though I'm younger than you
That even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die
And your death'll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I'll watch while you're lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I'll stand over your grave
'Til I'm sure that you're dead


Dylan.


--------------------
Just a fool on the hill.


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
InvisibleDividedQuantumM
Outer Head
Male User Gallery

Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 8,704
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: pineninja] * 1
    #25280791 - 06/20/18 01:19 PM (2 years, 1 month ago)

The Walrus and the Carpenter

by Lewis Carroll


"The sun was shining on the sea,
      Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
      The billows smooth and bright —
And this was odd, because it was
      The middle of the night.

The moon was shining sulkily,
      Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
      After the day was done —
"It's very rude of him," she said,
      "To come and spoil the fun."

The sea was wet as wet could be,
      The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
      No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead —
      There were no birds to fly.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
      Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
      Such quantities of sand:
If this were only cleared away,'
      They said, it would be grand!'

If seven maids with seven mops
      Swept it for half a year,
Do you suppose,' the Walrus said,
      That they could get it clear?'
I doubt it,' said the Carpenter,
      And shed a bitter tear.

O Oysters, come and walk with us!'
      The Walrus did beseech.
A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
      Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
      To give a hand to each.'

The eldest Oyster looked at him,
      But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
      And shook his heavy head —
Meaning to say he did not choose
      To leave the oyster-bed.

But four young Oysters hurried up,
      All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
      Their shoes were clean and neat —
And this was odd, because, you know,
      They hadn't any feet.

Four other Oysters followed them,
      And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
      And more, and more, and more —
All hopping through the frothy waves,
      And scrambling to the shore.

The Walrus and the Carpenter
      Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
      Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
      And waited in a row.

The time has come,' the Walrus said,
      To talk of many things:
Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax —
      Of cabbages — and kings —
And why the sea is boiling hot —
      And whether pigs have wings.'

But wait a bit,' the Oysters cried,
      Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
      And all of us are fat!'
No hurry!' said the Carpenter.
      They thanked him much for that.

A loaf of bread,' the Walrus said,
      Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
      Are very good indeed —
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
      We can begin to feed.'

But not on us!' the Oysters cried,
      Turning a little blue.
After such kindness, that would be
      A dismal thing to do!'
The night is fine,' the Walrus said.
      Do you admire the view?

It was so kind of you to come!
      And you are very nice!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
      Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf —
      I've had to ask you twice!'

It seems a shame,' the Walrus said,
      To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
      And made them trot so quick!'
The Carpenter said nothing but
      The butter's spread too thick!'

I weep for you,' the Walrus said:
      I deeply sympathize.'
With sobs and tears he sorted out
      Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
      Before his streaming eyes.

O Oysters,' said the Carpenter,
      You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
      But answer came there none —
And this was scarcely odd, because
      They'd eaten every one."


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
InvisibleDividedQuantumM
Outer Head
Male User Gallery

Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 8,704
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 1
    #25318437 - 07/10/18 02:31 PM (2 years, 1 month ago)

Domestic fury and fierce civil strife
Shall cumber all the parts of Italy.
Blood and destruction shall be so in use,
And dreadful objects so familiar,
That mothers shall but smile when they behold
Their infants quartered with the hands of war,
All pity choked with custom of fell deeds,
And Caesar’s spirit, ranging for revenge,
With Ate by his side come hot from hell,
Shall in these confines with a monarch’s voice
Cry “Havoc!” and let slip the dogs of war,
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial.


                                                        Julius Caesar Act III, Scene 1 by Wm. Shakespeare


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
InvisibleDividedQuantumM
Outer Head
Male User Gallery

Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 8,704
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 1
    #25325912 - 07/14/18 02:29 PM (2 years, 30 days ago)

We place no reliance
On virgin or pigeon;
Our Method is Science,
Our Aim is Religion.



                                  --Aleister Crowley


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
InvisibleDividedQuantumM
Outer Head
Male User Gallery

Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 8,704
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum] * 1
    #25356657 - 07/30/18 09:34 PM (2 years, 14 days ago)

The Girl of Cadiz

By Lord Byron


O, NEVER talk again to me
    Of northern climes and British ladies;
It has not been your lot to see,
    Like me, the lovely Girl of Cadiz.
Although her eyes be not of blue,        
    Nor fair her locks, like English lasses,
How far its own expressive hue
    The languid azure eye surpasses!

Prometheus-like, from heaven she stole
    The fire that through those silken lashes        
In darkest glances seems to roll,
    From eyes that cannot hide their flashes;
And as along her bosom steal
    In lengthened flow her raven tresses,
You ’d swear each clustering lock could feel,        
    And curl'd to give her neck caresses.

Our English maids are long to woo,
    And frigid even in possession;
And if their charms be fair to view,
    Their lips are slow at love’s confession;        
But, born beneath a brighter sun,
    For love ordained the Spanish maid is,
And who, when fondly, fairly won,
    Enchants you like the Girl of Cadiz?

The Spanish maid is no coquette,        
    Nor joys to see a lover tremble;
And if she love or if she hate,
    Alike she knows not to dissemble.
Her heart can ne’er be bought or sold,—
    Howe’er it beats, it beats sincerely;        
And, though it will not bend to gold,
    ’T will love you long, and love you dearly.

The Spanish girl that meets your love
    Ne’er taunts you with a mock denial;
For every thought is bent to prove        
    Her passion in the hour of trial.
When thronging foemen menace Spain
    She dares the deed and shares the danger;
And should her lover press the plain,
    She hurls the spear, her love’s avenger.        

And when, beneath the evening star,
    She mingles in the gay Bolero,
Or sings to her attuned guitar
    Of Christian knight or Moorish hero,
Or counts her beads with fairy hand        
    Beneath the twinkling rays of Hesper,
Or joins devotion’s choral band
    To chant the sweet and hallowed vesper,

In each her charms the heart must move
    Of all who venture to behold her.        
Then let not maids less fair reprove,
    Because her bosom is not colder;
Through many a clime ’t is mine to roam
    Where many a soft and melting maid is,
But none abroad, and few at home,        
    May match the dark-eyed Girl of Cadiz.


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
Invisiblepineninja
Dream Weaver
 User Gallery


Registered: 08/18/14
Posts: 11,710
Loc: South Flag
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: DividedQuantum]
    #25356792 - 07/30/18 10:43 PM (2 years, 13 days ago)

My partners not Spanish but I'll be reading her that as if she is.


--------------------
Just a fool on the hill.


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
Invisiblepineninja
Dream Weaver
 User Gallery


Registered: 08/18/14
Posts: 11,710
Loc: South Flag
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: pineninja] * 1
    #25356823 - 07/30/18 10:55 PM (2 years, 13 days ago)

In a dark time, the eye begins to see, 
I meet my shadow in the deepening shade; 
I hear my echo in the echoing wood-- 
A lord of nature weeping to a tree. 
I live between the heron and the wren, 
Beasts of the hill and serpents of the den. 
What's madness but nobility of soul 
At odds with circumstance? The day's on fire! 
I know the purity of pure despair, 
My shadow pinned against a sweating wall. 
That place among the rocks--is it a cave, 
Or a winding path? The edge is what I have. 

A steady storm of correspondences! 
A night flowing with birds, a ragged moon, 
And in broad day the midnight come again! 
A man goes far to find out what he is-- 
Death of the self in a long, tearless night, 
All natural shapes blazing unnatural light. 

Dark, dark my light, and darker my desire. 
My soul, like some heat-maddened summer fly, 
Keeps buzzing at the sill. Which I is I? 
A fallen man, I climb out of my fear. 
The mind enters itself, and God the mind, 
And one is One, free in the tearing wind.

by Theodore Roethke


--------------------
Just a fool on the hill.


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
OfflineNataraja_Shiva
Philosophus


Registered: 05/15/18
Posts: 325
Loc: Earth
Last seen: 1 month, 1 day
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: pineninja] * 1
    #25365205 - 08/03/18 10:08 PM (2 years, 10 days ago)

A stranger I met while on a long journey introduced me to Rainer Maria Rilke. 

From out of the Book of Hours -

I read it in your word, and learn it from
the history of the gestures of your warm
wise hands, rounding themselves to form
and circumscribe the shapes that are to come.
Aloud you said: to live, and lo: to die,
and you repeated, tirelessly: to be.
And yet there was no death till murder came.
Then through your perfect circles ran a rent
and a cry tore,
scattering the voices that not long before
had gently blent
to utter you,
to carry you,
bridge across the abyss —

And what they since have stammered
are the fragments only
of your old name.



--------------------
"Life is warfare and a strangers sojourn, the only lasting fame is oblivion" - Marcus Aurelius



FastFreds Media Cookbook
Mad Seasons guide to hidden contams
How it should and shouldn't look
Ultimate Tek Compendium


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
OfflineGonzo the Eternal
In Sterquiliniis Invenitur

Registered: 05/09/18
Posts: 480
Last seen: 11 months, 8 days
Re: Post a poem you like [Re: Nataraja_Shiva] * 1
    #25365309 - 08/03/18 11:00 PM (2 years, 9 days ago)

Invictus by William Earnest Henley

Out of the night that covers me
Black as the pit from pole to pole
I thank whatever Gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud
Under the bludgeonings of chance my head is bloody but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears looms but the horror of the shade
And yet the menace of the years finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how straight the gate
How charged with punishment the scroll
I am the master of my fate
I am the captain of my soul


Post Extras: Print Post  Remind Me! Notify Moderator
Jump to top. Pages: < Back | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | Next >

Shop: PhytoExtractum Buy Bali Kratom Powder, Kratom Powder for Sale   Kraken Kratom Red Vein Kratom   North Spore Injection Grain Bag, North Spore Mushroom Grow Kits & Cultivation Supplies   Bridgetown Botanicals CBD Edibles   Amazon Incense

General Interest >> Music, Art, and Media

Similar ThreadsPosterViewsRepliesLast post
* I think I've created a poem? TeKHeAD009 1,344 9 10/16/02 03:48 AM
by Fliquid
* poem written during bad trip.... wrestler_az 2,336 8 09/15/02 07:29 PM
by wrestler_az
* Silly Poems With No Real Meaning Muppet 1,214 7 08/17/02 08:13 PM
by Muppet
* Some Sappy Poems About Being Alone RebelSteve33 1,518 3 08/21/02 12:37 AM
by Muppet
* Darker Side of me......just some poems GrowingVines 886 2 10/08/02 03:21 PM
by thePatient
* i wrote a poem Captain Jack 665 2 09/01/02 07:12 AM
by Muppet
* first poem LoverofEarth 1,140 10 11/12/02 09:47 PM
by LoverofEarth
* some poems..... Conscious_Shadow 1,121 9 10/28/02 04:50 PM
by Conscious_Shadow

Extra information
You cannot start new topics / You cannot reply to topics
HTML is disabled / BBCode is enabled
Moderator: Middleman, automan, DividedQuantum
20,852 topic views. 0 members, 3 guests and 1 web crawlers are browsing this forum.
[ Print Topic ]
Search this thread:
Cannabis Seeds - Original Sensible Seeds
Please support our sponsors.

Copyright 1997-2020 Mind Media. Some rights reserved.

Generated in 0.044 seconds spending 0.003 seconds on 14 queries.