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 graceful dragon
omni-love
Registered: 04/20/15
Posts: 460
Loc: flight
Last seen: 6 years, 8 months
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 Re: Post a poem you like  [Re: pachoo] 1
#24168263 - 03/16/17 08:35 PM (7 years, 1 month ago) |
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Ozymandias, by Percy Bysshe Shelley
I MET a Traveler from an antique land,
Who said, "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desart. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read,
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is OZYMANDIAS, King of Kings."
Look on my works ye Mighty, and despair!
No thing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that Colossal Wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
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 DividedQuantum
Outer Head
Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 9,858
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There is the moral of all human tales;
'Tis but the same rehearsal of the past.
First freedom and then Glory -- when that fails;
Wealth, vice, corruption, -- barbarism at last.
--Lord Byron, "Childe Harold's Pilgrimage"
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Vi Veri Universum Vivus Vici
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DividedQuantum
Outer Head
Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 9,858
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The mystery does not get clearer by repeating the question,
nor is it bought with going to amazing places.
Until you've kept your eyes
and your wanting still for fifty years,
you don't begin to cross over from confusion.
--Rumi, "The Center of the Fire"
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Vi Veri Universum Vivus Vici
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graceful dragon
omni-love
Registered: 04/20/15
Posts: 460
Loc: flight
Last seen: 6 years, 8 months
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As from the house your mother sees
You playing round the garden trees,
So you may see, if you will look
Through the windows of this book,
Another child, far, far away,
And in another garden, play.
But do not think you can at all,
By knocking on the window, call
That child to hear you. He intent
Is all on his play-business bent.
He does not hear, he will not look,
Nor yet be lured out of this book.
For, long ago, the truth to say,
He has grown up and gone away,
And it is but a child of air
That lingers in the garden there.
Robert Louis Stevenson
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DividedQuantum
Outer Head
Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 9,858
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This is a fun one by Rudyard Kipling from the Orson Welles movie F for Fake
The Conundrum of the Workshops
When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold,
Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mould;
And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart,
Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, "It's pretty, but is it Art ?"
Wherefore he called to his wife, and fled to fashion his work anew -
The first of his race who cared a fig for the first, most dread review;
And he left his lore to the use of his sons -- and that was a glorious gain
When the Devil chuckled "Is it Art ?" in the ear of the branded Cain.
They fought and they talked in the North and the South, they talked and
they fought in the West,
Till the waters rose on the pitiful land, and the poor Red Clay had rest -
Had rest till that dank blank-canvas dawn when the dove was preened to start,
And the Devil bubbled below the keel: "It's human, but is it Art ?"
They builded a tower to shiver the sky and wrench the stars apart,
Till the Devil grunted behind the bricks: "It's striking, but is it Art ?"
The stone was dropped at the quarry-side and the idle derrick swung,
While each man talked of the aims of Art, and each in an alien tongue.
The tale is as old as the Eden Tree - and new as the new-cut tooth -
For each man knows ere his lip-thatch grows he is master of Art and Truth;
And each man hears as the twilight nears, to the beat of his dying heart,
The Devil drum on the darkened pane: "You did it, but was it Art ?"
We have learned to whittle the Eden Tree to the shape of a surplice-peg,
We have learned to bottle our parents twain in the yolk of an addled egg,
We know that the tail must wag the dog, for the horse is drawn by the cart;
But the Devil whoops, as he whooped of old: "It's clever, but is it Art ?"
When the flicker of London sun falls faint on the Club-room's green and gold,
The sons of Adam sit them down and scratch with their pens in the mould -
They scratch with their pens in the mould of their graves, and the ink and the anguish start,
For the Devil mutters behind the leaves: "It's pretty, but is it Art ?"
Now, if we could win to the Eden Tree where the Four Great Rivers flow,
And the Wreath of Eve is red on the turf as she left it long ago,
And if we could come when the sentry slept and softly scurry through,
By the favour of God we might know as much - as our father Adam knew!
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Vi Veri Universum Vivus Vici
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DividedQuantum
Outer Head
Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 9,858
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He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
But he who kisses the joy as it flies
Lives in eternity's sun rise.
William Blake, "Eternity"
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Vi Veri Universum Vivus Vici
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ChRnZN
Din of Doom
Registered: 12/21/08
Posts: 6,265
Loc: ADK
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Of Adam's first wife, Lilith, it is told
(The witch he loved before the gift of Eve,)
That, ere the snake's, her sweet tongue could deceive,
And her enchanted hair was the first gold.
And still she sits, young while the earth is old,
And, subtly of herself contemplative,
Draws men to watch the bright web she can weave,
Till heart and body and life are in its hold.
The rose and poppy are her flower; for where
Is he not found, O Lilith, whom shed scent
And soft-shed kisses and soft sleep shall snare?
Lo! As that youth's eyes burned at thine, so went
Thy spell through him, and left his straight neck bent
And round his heart one strangling golden hair.
Rosetti
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Mush 4 Brains
about tree fiddy
Registered: 12/19/07
Posts: 8,298
Loc: Tacos
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I'm not big on poetry, though I've read some I like. I generally like old adages and proverb type stuff. Short ones that explain a basic intrinsic truth and that is short yet makes you ponder. Brevity is the soul of wit as they say.
I'm fascinated with alcohol prohibition in 1920s America. A bold social experiment that yielded some crazy results. I find myself looking back and comparing to current drug prohibition/the war on drugs. I try to look for parallels and see if there's something useful to be gained/understood.
I heard this short poem on a documentary and I really dug it. I think it fits just as well with today's war on drugs.
Prohibition
by
Franklin P. Adams, 1931
Prohibition is an awful flop.
We like it.
It can't stop what it's meant to stop.
We like it.
It's left a trail of graft and slime,
It won't prohibit worth a dime,
It's filled our land with vice and crime.
Nevertheless, we're for it.
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DividedQuantum
Outer Head
Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 9,858
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Re: Post a poem you like [Re: ChRnZN]
#24177122 - 03/20/17 09:04 AM (7 years, 28 days ago) |
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Quote:
Noodle473 said:
Of Adam's first wife, Lilith, it is told
(The witch he loved before the gift of Eve,)
That, ere the snake's, her sweet tongue could deceive,
And her enchanted hair was the first gold.
And still she sits, young while the earth is old,
And, subtly of herself contemplative,
Draws men to watch the bright web she can weave,
Till heart and body and life are in its hold.
The rose and poppy are her flower; for where
Is he not found, O Lilith, whom shed scent
And soft-shed kisses and soft sleep shall snare?
Lo! As that youth's eyes burned at thine, so went
Thy spell through him, and left his straight neck bent
And round his heart one strangling golden hair.
Rosetti
Nice.
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Vi Veri Universum Vivus Vici
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DividedQuantum
Outer Head
Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 9,858
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Quote:
Mush 4 Brains said:
I'm not big on poetry, though I've read some I like. I generally like old adages and proverb type stuff. Short ones that explain a basic intrinsic truth and that is short yet makes you ponder. Brevity is the soul of wit as they say.
I'm fascinated with alcohol prohibition in 1920s America. A bold social experiment that yielded some crazy results. I find myself looking back and comparing to current drug prohibition/the war on drugs. I try to look for parallels and see if there's something useful to be gained/understood.
I heard this short poem on a documentary and I really dug it. I think it fits just as well with today's war on drugs.
Prohibition
by
Franklin P. Adams, 1931
Prohibition is an awful flop.
We like it.
It can't stop what it's meant to stop.
We like it.
It's left a trail of graft and slime,
It won't prohibit worth a dime,
It's filled our land with vice and crime.
Nevertheless, we're for it.
I like it. 
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Vi Veri Universum Vivus Vici
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once in a lifetime
sun child
Registered: 02/12/15
Posts: 1,807
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My Seal-Ring,-- Leila
Mercury has cast aside
The signs of intellectual pride,
Freely offers thee the soul:
Art thou noble to receive?
Canst thou give or take the whole,
Nobly promise and believe?
Then thou wholly human art,
A spotless, radiant, ruby heart,
And the golden chain of love
Has bound thee to the realm above.
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Innocent, Oldfield & Hegerland Julia Delaney, Bothy Band Rasta Girl, Sister Carol Genesis, Jorma K
I Wish You Peace, Lawrence Laughing Do Your Thing, Moondog
large . . music  garden . . veryall peace them hiStarhouse - main Time Traveler's Guide
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DividedQuantum
Outer Head
Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 9,858
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Beautiful.
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Vi Veri Universum Vivus Vici
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once in a lifetime
sun child
Registered: 02/12/15
Posts: 1,807
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BOOK VII
Song of the Open Road
1
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,
Healthy, free, the world before me,
The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.
Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,
Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,
Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,
Strong and content I travel the open road.
The earth, that is sufficient,
I do not want the constellations any nearer,
I know they are very well where they are,
I know they suffice for those who belong to them.
(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens,
I carry them, men and women, I carry them with me wherever I go,
I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them,
I am fill'd with them, and I will fill them in return.)
2
You road I enter upon and look around, I believe you are not all
that is here,
I believe that much unseen is also here.
Here the profound lesson of reception, nor preference nor denial,
The black with his woolly head, the felon, the diseas'd, the
illiterate person, are not denied;
The birth, the hasting after the physician, the beggar's tramp, the
drunkard's stagger, the laughing party of mechanics,
The escaped youth, the rich person's carriage, the fop, the eloping couple,
The early market-man, the hearse, the moving of furniture into the
town, the return back from the town,
They pass, I also pass, any thing passes, none can be interdicted,
None but are accepted, none but shall be dear to me.
3
You air that serves me with breath to speak!
You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape!
You light that wraps me and all things in delicate equable showers!
You paths worn in the irregular hollows by the roadsides!
I believe you are latent with unseen existences, you are so dear to me.
You flagg'd walks of the cities! you strong curbs at the edges!
You ferries! you planks and posts of wharves! you timber-lined
side! you distant ships!
You rows of houses! you window-pierc'd facades! you roofs!
You porches and entrances! you copings and iron guards!
You windows whose transparent shells might expose so much!
You doors and ascending steps! you arches!
You gray stones of interminable pavements! you trodden crossings!
From all that has touch'd you I believe you have imparted to
yourselves, and now would impart the same secretly to me,
From the living and the dead you have peopled your impassive surfaces,
and the spirits thereof would be evident and amicable with me.
4
The earth expanding right hand and left hand,
The picture alive, every part in its best light,
The music falling in where it is wanted, and stopping where it is
not wanted,
The cheerful voice of the public road, the gay fresh sentiment of the road.
O highway I travel, do you say to me Do not leave me?
Do you say Venture not—if you leave me you are lost?
Do you say I am already prepared, I am well-beaten and undenied,
adhere to me?
O public road, I say back I am not afraid to leave you, yet I love you,
You express me better than I can express myself,
You shall be more to me than my poem.
I think heroic deeds were all conceiv'd in the open air, and all
free poems also,
I think I could stop here myself and do miracles,
I think whatever I shall meet on the road I shall like, and whoever
beholds me shall like me,
I think whoever I see must be happy.
5
From this hour I ordain myself loos'd of limits and imaginary lines,
Going where I list, my own master total and absolute,
Listening to others, considering well what they say,
Pausing, searching, receiving, contemplating,
Gently, but with undeniable will, divesting myself of the holds that
would hold me.
I inhale great draughts of space,
The east and the west are mine, and the north and the south are mine.
I am larger, better than I thought,
I did not know I held so much goodness.
All seems beautiful to me,
can repeat over to men and women You have done such good to me
I would do the same to you,
I will recruit for myself and you as I go,
I will scatter myself among men and women as I go,
I will toss a new gladness and roughness among them,
Whoever denies me it shall not trouble me,
Whoever accepts me he or she shall be blessed and shall bless me.
6
Now if a thousand perfect men were to appear it would not amaze me,
Now if a thousand beautiful forms of women appear'd it would not
astonish me.
...
Leaves of Grass, Walt Whitman
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Innocent, Oldfield & Hegerland Julia Delaney, Bothy Band Rasta Girl, Sister Carol Genesis, Jorma K
I Wish You Peace, Lawrence Laughing Do Your Thing, Moondog
large . . music garden . . veryall peace them hiStarhouse - main Time Traveler's Guide
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Mush 4 Brains
about tree fiddy
Registered: 12/19/07
Posts: 8,298
Loc: Tacos
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There's this poem a friend showed me a while back that i I really liked. I can't remember it 100% but I know it was from a popular female poet. Its a well known poem, perhaps one of you know it.
In the poem the author compares her life choices to that of a fruit tree (figs I think). She describes how different opportunities die off as she remains indecisive..
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graceful dragon
omni-love
Registered: 04/20/15
Posts: 460
Loc: flight
Last seen: 6 years, 8 months
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I always enjoyed A.E. Housman very much... this is from A Shropshire Lad.
XLV. If it chance your eye offend you
IF it chance your eye offend you,
Pluck it out, lad, and be sound:
’Twill hurt, but here are salves to friend you,
And many a balsam grows on ground.
And if your hand or foot offend you,
Cut it off, lad, and be whole;
But play the man, stand up and end you,
When your sickness is your soul.
of course it's a bit dark... - a good few of his are, I loved reading his book a great deal though... Not the best poet in the universe (That's not an insult really..), but good.
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graceful dragon
omni-love
Registered: 04/20/15
Posts: 460
Loc: flight
Last seen: 6 years, 8 months
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XLVII. Here the hangman stops his cart
The Carpenter’s Son
HERE the hangman stops his cart
Now the best of friends must part.
Fare you well, for ill fare I:
Live, lads, and I will die.
‘Oh, at home had I but stayed 5
‘Prenticed to my father’s trade,
Had I stuck to plane and adze,
I had not been lost, my lads.
‘Then I might have built perhaps
Gallows-trees for other chaps, 10
Never dangled on my own,
Had I but left ill alone.
‘Now, you see, they hang me high,
And the people passing by
Stop to shake their fists and curse; 15
So ’tis come from ill to worse.
‘Here hang I, and right and left
Two poor fellows hang for theft:
All the same ’s the luck we prove,
Though the midmost hangs for love. 20
‘Comrades all, that stand and gaze,
Walk henceforth in other ways;
See my neck and save your own:
Comrades all, leave ill alone.
‘Make some day a decent end, 25
Shrewder fellows than your friend.
Fare you well, for ill fare I:
Live, lads, and I will die.’
(same as above...)
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DividedQuantum
Outer Head
Registered: 12/06/13
Posts: 9,858
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Loving the Housman.
by F.W. Nietzsche:
He who once promised much
He who once promised much
Is silent in himself.
He who once ignited lightning
Must long -- be a cloud.
Higher men
He climbs up -- you must praise him!
But this one comes from above!
He is relieved of praise,
He is from above!
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Vi Veri Universum Vivus Vici
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once in a lifetime
sun child
Registered: 02/12/15
Posts: 1,807
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When I was spending a lot of time in the forest, I discovered Vera Pavlova.... A poet after my own heart in several ways -- although less in terms of content, but very much in several aspects... For one - she doesn't wish to be known..... That is, she rarely gives interviews and does not have any wish for fame. Now I - am one who respected this very much and --- hardly even spoke her name, and instead would often allude to her, or say, 'the poet,' or some such -- or quote lines.... or simply say V_. And, it occurred to me then, or I realized then -- all of those places where people write the names like that.... Russian authors do so a lot - Dostoevsky,... Solzhenitsyn (who wrote Cancer Ward), -- at least, I remembered them and thought it interesting...
Anyway - the only other interesting thing about Vera is that she said -- she is incredibly good at finding things... She could find a small item in a field of grass, or something similar, she said --- Cool or nifty because I am the best in the world at losing things! I will place something in a place -- and it will disappear for good... It's interesting because I have a nearly perfect memory when it comes to other things, such as words or language... It helped me to become minimalist even more -- as I am already.... and I learned, minimalism is tremendously helpful for that sort of thing...
Please forgive my excess verbiage.
Anyway I wanted to share this one.
Basked in the sun,
listened to birds,
licked off raindrops,
and only in flight
the leaf saw the tree
and grasped
what it had been.
-Vera Pavlova
Ah, and... I suppose it's natural for Russian people to have that..... not wishing to be famous or known --
It's something I discovered as a profound thing... The desire to be known is so completely opposite to most things in nature... She expressed it beautifully:
“Being well known is when you do not know at all who knows you and what they know about you”
I already had come to this understanding; reading her quote was cool tho 
later I enjoyed this: http://rbth.com/amp/497317
and just now: http://verapavlova.us/interviews2.html ...
the book I had read by her was 100 selected poems, under the title of "There is Something to Desire"
If there is something to desire,
there will be something to regret.
If there is something to regret,
there will be something to recall.
If there is something to recall,
there was nothing to regret.
If there was nothing to regret,
there was nothing to desire.
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Innocent, Oldfield & Hegerland Julia Delaney, Bothy Band Rasta Girl, Sister Carol Genesis, Jorma K
I Wish You Peace, Lawrence Laughing Do Your Thing, Moondog
large . . music garden . . veryall peace them hiStarhouse - main Time Traveler's Guide
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clock_of_omens
razzle them dazzle them
Registered: 04/10/14
Posts: 4,097
Last seen: 53 minutes, 50 seconds
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James Emanuel
Experience
"To all things great and glorious":
his wine moved to his lips.
"There are so few," she answered;
her brim touched his fingertips.
They stared the fire into an ash;
their glasses bent their hands
while they, enchanted wistfully,
re-travelled many lands.
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Kurt
Thinker, blinker, writer, typer.
Registered: 11/26/14
Posts: 1,688
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Quote:
DividedQuantum said:
Loving the Housman.
by F.W. Nietzsche:
He who once promised much
He who once promised much
Is silent in himself.
He who once ignited lightning
Must long -- be a cloud.
Higher men
He climbs up -- you must praise him!
But this one comes from above!
He is relieved of praise,
He is from above!
Is this from The Gay Science? I've been reading this just the last few days. I suppose it'd not be too much a coincidence...
Spring renewals!
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