Today's poet

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Derby Tup

It was freezing over here earlier in the week and I started thinking about Withnail and I, including dear old Uncle Monty and then Baudelaire

A Hemisphere in Your Hair


Long let me inhale, the odour of your hair,
into it plunge the whole of my face, like a thirsty man
into the waters of a spring and wave it in my fingers like a scented handkerchief,
to shake memories into the air

What memories of Oxford (or in my case, day release at Trent Poly, 1982-86 :o)

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That's a really gorgeous poem DT. Thanks.

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Originally Posted by tri-mind

Thanks Freckle for the lovely comment. I have not been published and more than that i failed english and english lit and most other exams at school. I just find this thread makes me want to join in and if my poetry is crap i know that nobody will be nasty.

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Well at least you attempted the exams ( i dropped out of english lit altogether and took a different tack)....up until about 6 months ago i knew hardly anything at all about poetry and have developed an obsession ( i need a new bookshelf for all the books i am purchasing)...i think passion and enthuasism and authenticity are far more important than formal qualifications in this area but thats just myy opinion....i don't mean to sound sycophantic i just really like the way you use language and your expression of emotion within the words!!! looking forward to hearing more...

DT- i really love that film (withnail and I) it is so funny...think i may have to revisit some clips as we speak! loved the poem also

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Originally Posted by freckle

that E Bye Gummings is careless with his work, take this which i found in some woods near me recently....

He said


He said

I

y(l)o(o)u(v)r(e)

voice and the

B-O-D-Y

from which it

comes.

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eerily familiar. I love what you have done with this.

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Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill

I just don’t think I’ll run today,
This hamstring pain won’t go away.
My quadriceps are just too tight,
And these new shoes, they just aren’t right.
My calves they are as stiff as rocks,
Besides, I’ve lost my favourite socks.
My shin splints they are giving gyp,
My keenness just abandoned ship.
My foot’s got plantar fasciitis,
Or is that Achilles tendinitis?
I’ve got the flu, must be the swine,
No one has sore knees quite like mine.
My back is crook, my ankle’s sprained,
My ITB flared when it rained.
I’ve got a blister on my toes,
It’s got much worse; my runny nose.
My hip hurts when I bend my knee,
I’d rather stop in, have some tea.
My arches flat, my gait is off,
I really think I’m going soft.
My guts are sore, my backside’s charming,
I’ve lost my torch, mislaid my Garmin.
I go all dizzy when I stand,
I’ve got a splinter in my hand.
I feel so bad I’m gonna heave,
Will this headache ever leave?
My motivation’s done a runner,
Can’t find my windproof; what a bummer.
But then again, I’m quite the fretter,
One small run might make me better.

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Another HHH classic. Well done.

OW- glad you liked e bye gummings offering tonight!

been to my favourite second hand book shop again today (the owner is very understanding when it comes to my two little tikes tearing around the place and so i frequent it a lot, plus i can pick up books from £1:50 which is good for my obsession) anyway.... came across a lovely collection of robert burns work...

this one seems timely...

Winter: a dirge

The wintry west extends his blast,
And hail and rain does blaw;
Or the stormy north sends driving forth
The blinding sleet and snaw:
While, tumbling brown, the burn comes down,
And roars frae bank to brae;
And bird and beast in covert rest,
And pass the heartless day.

"The sweeping blast, the sky o'ercast,"
The joyless winter day
Let others fear, to me more dear
Than all the pride of May:
The tempest's howl, it soothes my soul,
My griefs it seems to join;
The leafless trees my fancy please,
Their fate resembles mine!

Thou Power Supreme, whose mighty scheme
These woes of mine fulfil,
Here firm I rest; they must be best,
Because they are Thy will!
Then all I want-O do Thou grant
This one request of mine!-
Since to enjoy Thou dost deny,
Assist me to resign.

trying to write tonight but getting no where fast....

An antidote to Last night's Horizon thread:

If all a top physicist knows
About the Truth be true,
Then, for all the so-and-so's,
Futility and grime,
Our common world contains,
We have a better time
Than the Greater Nebulae do,
Or the atoms in our brains.


(W.H Auden)

Well that definately feels like today.

I'm just glad ol' Rabbie never had double glazing, or we'd not have poems like that!

The writing will come. I just start writing lists of things I want to write about, and something of interest normally appears.

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Originally Posted by freckle

Winter: a dirge

The wintry west extends his blast,
And hail and rain does blaw;
Or the stormy north sends driving forth
The blinding sleet and snaw:
While, tumbling brown, the burn comes down,
And roars frae bank to brae;
And bird and beast in covert rest,
And pass the heartless day.

"The sweeping blast, the sky o'ercast,"
The joyless winter day
Let others fear, to me more dear
Than all the pride of May:
The tempest's howl, it soothes my soul,
My griefs it seems to join;
The leafless trees my fancy please,
Their fate resembles mine!

Thou Power Supreme, whose mighty scheme
These woes of mine fulfil,
Here firm I rest; they must be best,
Because they are Thy will!
Then all I want-O do Thou grant
This one request of mine!-
Since to enjoy Thou dost deny,
Assist me to resign.

trying to write tonight but getting no where fast....

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Quote:

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Originally Posted by XRunner

An antidote to Last night's Horizon thread:

If all a top physicist knows
About the Truth be true,
Then, for all the so-and-so's,
Futility and grime,
Our common world contains,
We have a better time
Than the Greater Nebulae do,
Or the atoms in our brains.


(W.H Auden)

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To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To smooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light
To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.

William Shakespeare

King John, Act IV, scene ii

My nerves are frayed and I am late to the world of fells and poetry and so I'll refrain on commenting on all the wonderful posts I've just been reading through except to say that I love HHH's poem about not running and wish I'd written it. Poem envy I think its called. However, how many poems do you know that are about carsharing? This is the reason I am not in the best frame of mind!

The Carshare

A carshare seemed a good idea
In the summer of this year
Times were hard and I was keen
To split the costs and be green
For one week in every two
I have a car and troubles few
For the other times I’m fonder
Of zipping around on my Honda
Some days my CG125
Has me feeling so alive
On others there is a sense of dread
As I unearth it from the shed
When the nights are long and dark
Being a biker is no lark
If the roads are cold and icy
Cornering is very dicey
But the worst is howling gales
That is when my courage fails
Gusty winds may knock me over
And under the wheels of a speeding Nova
So if you think you’d like to share
Just remember to beware
On the days without the car
If you’re going very far
Maybe better a hitch hiker
Than a flattened motorbiker.

Flamingo glides, stalls.
Dainty hop, a step, a stop.
One leg, one eye, asleep.