Today's poet

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by N-dubya

Uncle Jim

I only knew him as an old man,
in old, worn out suits and overcoats.
He had spent the worst part of his
life working down the pit. In the
end it was the dust that had him.

I only knew him as an old man,
who kept peardrops in the pockets
of his overcoats, who had spent the
best part of his life down the pub,
supping all day at halfpints.

I only really knew him as an old
man who waited beside a lampost, to
give me peardrops from the pockets
of his overcoat which were always
covered in lint.

---

First class NDubya.

I'm up with the larks
keeping company with owls
butterflies flapping

Took a day out from my punishing schedule to recce a race. Got lost, muddy and cold but felt better for it. My absence from the thread is due to having to meet all deadlines but the end is in sight, well, a hiatus anyway. Looking forward to sleeping and eating properly again.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Herakles

Don't Diss The Demi-God.

Now then Mossdog you're tryin to diss me,
I can't believe your weak literacy,
I'm a demi-god from ancient greece,
Your a smelly dog with a shaggy fleece.

You know all the ladies love me the most,
All you do is pee up a lamp post,
So give in now to the superior rap,
And make sure you take a baggy when you do a crap.

Oh i know, yes i know that my rap is best,
All you sucker fell runner mc's put me to the test,
As i've proven with Mossdog you will see that you weak,
No one on here can break my streak.

So Freckle you have seen now who is best,
Mossdog can go get his leash instead of being a pest,
I defeated him with consumate ease,
You'll never find another rapper like Herakles.

By Herakles.

---

Now that's really underhand, sneaking in the cue words 'freckle' and 'leash' in the same verse. You just know that springs my pavlov conditioning in play and now I've gone all submissive, rolling on my back- drat:D:D:D

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by N-dubya

to mc's Herakles and mossdog

Just put a donk on it!

---

What's a donk? Where can I get one? Does everyone else have one?:confused:

I am not sure what definition of Donk N-Dubya is using. It could be a ladies large posterior or possibly old school car with hydraulic suspension. Either way quite confused.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Herakles

I am not sure what definition of Donk N-Dubya is using. It could be a ladies large posterior or possibly old school car with hydraulic suspension. Either way quite confused.

---

this is soooooo funny! herakles i loved your rap very clever indeed! :D ndubya i liked your poem too, funny how by just mentioning pear drops you conjured a feeling of years gone by, great subtlety as ever...:) i am feeling a tad uninspired, like hes i have loads of deadlines to meet and am bringing work home a lot but i am enjoying the patter on here so thanks all!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Hes

I'm up with the larks
keeping company with owls
butterflies flapping

Took a day out from my punishing schedule to recce a race. Got lost, muddy and cold but felt better for it. My absence from the thread is due to having to meet all deadlines but the end is in sight, well, a hiatus anyway. Looking forward to sleeping and eating properly again.

---

i liked this little haiku and look forward to seeing your butterflies in the flesh!

I wonder what the story was behind this one by angelou.....

Men
When I was young, I used to
Watch behind the curtains
As men walked up and down the street. Wino men, old men.
Young men sharp as mustard.
See them. Men are always
Going somewhere.
They knew I was there. Fifteen
Years old and starving for them.
Under my window, they would pause,
Their shoulders high like the
Breasts of a young girl,
Jacket tails slapping over
Those behinds,
Men.

One day they hold you in the
Palms of their hands, gentle, as if you
Were the last raw egg in the world. Then
They tighten up. Just a little. The
First squeeze is nice. A quick hug.
Soft into your defenselessness. A little
More. The hurt begins. Wrench out a
Smile that slides around the fear. When the
Air disappears,
Your mind pops, exploding fiercely, briefly,
Like the head of a kitchen match. Shattered.
It is your juice
That runs down their legs. Staining their shoes.
When the earth rights itself again,
And taste tries to return to the tongue,
Your body has slammed shut. Forever.
No keys exist.

Then the window draws full upon
Your mind. There, just beyond
The sway of curtains, men walk.
Knowing something.
Going someplace.
But this time, I will simply
Stand and watch.

Maybe.

Three Weeks by Ann Michaels

Three weeks longing, water burning
stone. Three weeks leopard blood
pacing under the loud insomnia of stars.
The weeks voltaic. Weeks of winter
afternoons, darkness half descended.
Howling at distance, ocean
pulling between us, bending time.
Three weeks finding you in me in new places,
luminescent as a tetra in depths,
its neon trail.
Three weeks shipwrecked on this mad island;
twisting aurora of perfumes. Every boundary of body
electrified, every thought hunted down
by memory of touch. Three weeks of open eyes
when you call, your first question,
Did I wake you….

ANIMAL LOVE

Rhona McAdam

Tonight I am of the beasts of the backyard.
My face is one of the multitude gazing upwards
at your window; I am one of the rumbling
furred assembly living to twine about your legs
when you step out and among us in the morning.

Tonight I am the wild love running
and rampaging through your flower garden
chasing for the pure speed of it
the small competitors for your favour,
returning happy, panting to wait for you.

Tonight I scratch at your door
behind which you lie sleeping
somewhere in the dark civilized recesses
wherein I would burst in a frenzy of passion
to envelop you in my affection,
the nuzzling, love-thrumming love
of beast for beast

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

I wonder what the story was behind this one by angelou.....

Men

---

Can you recognise this opera classic?

Women are fickle
Like a feather in the wind,
They change in tone and in thought.
Always a loveable,
Graceful visage,
That in tears or in laughter is lying.

Always wretched
Is he who trusts her,
He who confides in her reckless his heart!
Yet one never feels
Fully happy,
Who on that breast, does not taste love?

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

ANIMAL LOVE

Rhona McAdam

Tonight I am of the beasts of the backyard.
My face is one of the multitude gazing upwards
at your window; I am one of the rumbling
furred assembly living to twine about your legs
when you step out and among us in the morning.

Tonight I am the wild love running
and rampaging through your flower garden
chasing for the pure speed of it
the small competitors for your favour,
returning happy, panting to wait for you.

Tonight I scratch at your door
behind which you lie sleeping
somewhere in the dark civilized recesses
wherein I would burst in a frenzy of passion
to envelop you in my affection,
the nuzzling, love-thrumming love
of beast for beast

---

Like that Mossy:cool:

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Three Weeks by Ann Michaels

Three weeks longing, water burning
stone. Three weeks leopard blood
pacing under the loud insomnia of stars.
The weeks voltaic. Weeks of winter
afternoons, darkness half descended.
Howling at distance, ocean
pulling between us, bending time.
Three weeks finding you in me in new places,
luminescent as a tetra in depths,
its neon trail.
Three weeks shipwrecked on this mad island;
twisting aurora of perfumes. Every boundary of body
electrified, every thought hunted down
by memory of touch. Three weeks of open eyes
when you call, your first question,
Did I wake you….

---

this is gorgeous...thank you

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by XRunner

Can you recognise this opera classic?

Women are fickle
Like a feather in the wind,
They change in tone and in thought.
Always a loveable,
Graceful visage,
That in tears or in laughter is lying.

Always wretched
Is he who trusts her,
He who confides in her reckless his heart!
Yet one never feels
Fully happy,
Who on that breast, does not taste love?

---

Hey now X runner I am impressed with your knowledge here..i have always liked this tune but now i wonder if I should have??????...thanks :)

ps one day i'll go the opera in a big flouncy gown...and crows feet!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

I wonder what the story was behind this one by angelou.....

Men
When I was young, I used to
Watch behind the curtains
As men walked up and down the street. Wino men, old men.
Young men sharp as mustard.
See them. Men are always
Going somewhere.
They knew I was there. Fifteen
Years old and starving for them.
Under my window, they would pause,
Their shoulders high like the
Breasts of a young girl,
Jacket tails slapping over
Those behinds,
Men.

One day they hold you in the
Palms of their hands, gentle, as if you
Were the last raw egg in the world. Then
They tighten up. Just a little. The
First squeeze is nice. A quick hug.
Soft into your defenselessness. A little
More. The hurt begins. Wrench out a
Smile that slides around the fear. When the
Air disappears,
Your mind pops, exploding fiercely, briefly,
Like the head of a kitchen match. Shattered.
It is your juice
That runs down their legs. Staining their shoes.
When the earth rights itself again,
And taste tries to return to the tongue,
Your body has slammed shut. Forever.
No keys exist.

Then the window draws full upon
Your mind. There, just beyond
The sway of curtains, men walk.
Knowing something.
Going someplace.
But this time, I will simply
Stand and watch.

Maybe.

---

I don't know freckle :confused: but hang on a minute I have to go someplace :)

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.

William Blake

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Mossdog

Three Weeks by Ann Michaels

Three weeks longing, water burning
stone. Three weeks leopard blood
pacing under the loud insomnia of stars.
The weeks voltaic. Weeks of winter
afternoons, darkness half descended.
Howling at distance, ocean
pulling between us, bending time.
Three weeks finding you in me in new places,
luminescent as a tetra in depths,
its neon trail.
Three weeks shipwrecked on this mad island;
twisting aurora of perfumes. Every boundary of body
electrified, every thought hunted down
by memory of touch. Three weeks of open eyes
when you call, your first question,
Did I wake you

---

Good selection Mossy :cool:

Pent up passion extinguished by their partner's understatement ;):D

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Alf

I don't know freckle :confused: but hang on a minute I have to go someplace :)

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.

William Blake

---

ah....this is nice!

well top of the morning to ya all!....

i am still half asleep as i get ready for a run....always thought yeats was a bit dreamy.....

he remembers forgotten beauty
wb yeats

When my arms wrap you round I press
My heart upon the loveliness
That has long faded from the world;
The jewelled crowns that kings have hurled
In shadowy pools, when armies fled;
The love-tales wrought with silken thread
By dreaming ladies upon cloth
That has made fat the murderous moth;
The roses that of old time were
Woven by ladies in their hair,
The dew-cold lilies ladies bore
Through many a sacred corridor
Where such grey clouds of incense rose
That only God's eyes did not close:
For that pale breast and lingering hand
Come from a more dream-heavy land,
A more dream-heavy hour than this;
And when you sigh from kiss to kiss
I hear white Beauty sighing, too,
For hours when all must fade like dew.
But flame on flame, and deep on deep,
Throne over throne where in half sleep,
Their swords upon their iron knees,
Brood her high lonely mysteries.

just put a donk on it cuz your raps is well sick

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ckMvj1piK58

Some great choices last night. The Angelou (I thought Freckle had written it for a while until I spotted her comment later) was very thought provoking and Anne Michaels is one of my favourite poets. Got to collect a few spring poems together for after-school club. I am getting the kids to make books illustrating the poems.

Not in a hurry
to blossom -
plum tree at my gate.

Issa

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

well top of the morning to ya all!....

i am still half asleep as i get ready for a run....always thought yeats was a bit dreamy.....

he remembers forgotten beauty
wb yeats

When my arms wrap you round I press
My heart upon the loveliness
That has long faded from the world;
The jewelled crowns that kings have hurled
In shadowy pools, when armies fled;
The love-tales wrought with silken thread
By dreaming ladies upon cloth
That has made fat the murderous moth;
The roses that of old time were
Woven by ladies in their hair,
The dew-cold lilies ladies bore
Through many a sacred corridor
Where such grey clouds of incense rose
That only God's eyes did not close:
For that pale breast and lingering hand
Come from a more dream-heavy land,
A more dream-heavy hour than this;
And when you sigh from kiss to kiss
I hear white Beauty sighing, too,
For hours when all must fade like dew.
But flame on flame, and deep on deep,
Throne over throne where in half sleep,
Their swords upon their iron knees,
Brood her high lonely mysteries.

---

Beautiful poem freckle :cool: Good choice :D

A cake-u for your delectation...

http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/2010/...-you-deer.html

This it truly lovely Freckle...reading it has helped lighten a rotten morning. Thanks for sharing.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

well top of the morning to ya all!....

i am still half asleep as i get ready for a run....always thought yeats was a bit dreamy.....

he remembers forgotten beauty
wb yeats

When my arms wrap you round I press
My heart upon the loveliness
That has long faded from the world;
The jewelled crowns that kings have hurled
In shadowy pools, when armies fled;
The love-tales wrought with silken thread
By dreaming ladies upon cloth
That has made fat the murderous moth;
The roses that of old time were
Woven by ladies in their hair,
The dew-cold lilies ladies bore
Through many a sacred corridor
Where such grey clouds of incense rose
That only God's eyes did not close:
For that pale breast and lingering hand
Come from a more dream-heavy land,
A more dream-heavy hour than this;
And when you sigh from kiss to kiss
I hear white Beauty sighing, too,
For hours when all must fade like dew.
But flame on flame, and deep on deep,
Throne over throne where in half sleep,
Their swords upon their iron knees,
Brood her high lonely mysteries.

---

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Hes

Some great choices last night. The Angelou (I thought Freckle had written it for a while until I spotted her comment later) was very thought provoking and Anne Michaels is one of my favourite poets. Got to collect a few spring poems together for after-school club. I am getting the kids to make books illustrating the poems.

Not in a hurry
to blossom -
plum tree at my gate.

Issa

---

I thought her name was familiar (Anne Michaels) but I couldn't place her and today I opened up 'Born to Run' by Chris McDougall that my daughter had given me for my birthday last week. There's a quote there at the head of Chapter 1 by her "To live with ghosts requires solitude" from her book 'Fugitive Pieces' and thats where I remembered her name from as I read Fugitive Pieces when it first came out nearly 15 years ago. Great book but not an easy read :cool:

What comes around goes around eh? :D:D All these little connections we create in our lives that occasionally cross now and then.:)

I've has an especially rotten day today and now feel like I might be coming down with something....does anyone have any cheer up poetry to offer please?

On the positive side we had a great thunder storm with very heavy rain. Those are always a bit of a treat.

Stef

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Stef F

I've has an especially rotten day today and now feel like I might be coming down with something....does anyone have any cheer up poetry to offer please?

On the positive side we had a great thunder storm with very heavy rain. Those are always a bit of a treat.

Stef

---

This is my latest offering adapted from that great world war poet Baldrick

Rain, rain rain, rain! rain, rain..........:)

Stefs Cheer up Poetry.

Oh Stef we want you happy,
So put on a happy face,
Some funny rhyming poetry,
To bring joy to your place.

Have you ever seen an elephant,
Oh so much bigger than you,
Be careful not to stand behind,
You might get covered in poo.

And when jumping back down the hill,
Break neck speed from the top,
Watch where you put your feet,
You might just land in plop.

By Herakles.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by N-dubya

This is my latest offering adapted from that great world war poet Baldrick

Rain, rain rain, rain! rain, rain..........:)

---

What I needed was
a canoe not a bike for
my soggy trip home!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Herakles

Stefs Cheer up Poetry.

Oh Stef we want you happy,
So put on a happy face,
Some funny rhyming poetry,
To bring joy to your place.

Have you ever seen an elephant,
Oh so much bigger than you,
Be careful not to stand behind,
You might get covered in poo.

And when jumping back down the hill,
Break neck speed from the top,
Watch where you put your feet,
You might just land in plop.

By Herakles.

---

Have you ever seen an elephant
with a long face?
it's not very pretty
and it's here at my place

I stood right behind it
quite blind to the chance
It might empty it's guts
All over my stance!

While traipsing through the storms and gales,
Stef F was dreaming of a move to the Dales,
The cold and wet was a pain,
It was all wind and heavy rain,
What she really needed was a boat with sails!

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Stef F

I've has an especially rotten day today and now feel like I might be coming down with something....does anyone have any cheer up poetry to offer please?

On the positive side we had a great thunder storm with very heavy rain. Those are always a bit of a treat.

Stef

---

Dear stef, hope you are feeling better...cheer up poetry? ...well this one from roald dahl makes me laff every time...

hot and cold

A woman who my mother knows
Came in and took off all her clothes.

Said I, not being very old,
'By golly gosh, you must be cold!'

'No, no!' she cried. 'Indeed I'm not!
I'm feeling devilishly hot!'






southern softie i loved your contribution!
n dubya you are so down with the kids..like
hes...i love the image of you working with the kids on the spring images/books
herakles i loved your poem nearly missed it in my haste!

:)

and.....

peas
anon


I always eat my peas with honey;

I've done it all my life.

They do taste kind of funny

but It keeps them on my knife.

Bradley Wiggins was reading poetry about cycling earlier. If I can find what it was I'll post it....

oh and here is another supposedly funny one from the nations favourite comic poems...

on a tired housewife

Here lies a poor woman who was always tired,
She lived in a house where help wasn't hired:
Her last words on earth were: 'Dear friends, I am going
To where there's no cooking, or washing, or sewing,
For everything there is exact to my wishes,
For where they don't eat there's no washing of dishes.
I'll be where loud anthems will always be ringing,
But having no voice I'll be quit of the singing.
Don't mourn for me now, don't mourn for me never,
I am going to do nothing for ever and ever.'

Anonymous

think i am done being funny...off to read plath....

:D

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by dominion

Bradley Wiggins was reading poetry about cycling earlier. If I can find what it was I'll post it....

---

Oooo yes please that will be good....he wasn't talking about lance by any chance was he? ;)

Cheer up Stef, don't be sad
You ain't bald and av oldmonia
Trust me, that's bad;)

Aww thanks freckle; you raised a reluctant smile or two :)

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

oh and here is another supposedly funny one from the nations favourite comic poems...

on a tired housewife

Here lies a poor woman who was always tired,
She lived in a house where help wasn't hired:
Her last words on earth were: 'Dear friends, I am going
To where there's no cooking, or washing, or sewing,
For everything there is exact to my wishes,
For where they don't eat there's no washing of dishes.
I'll be where loud anthems will always be ringing,
But having no voice I'll be quit of the singing.
Don't mourn for me now, don't mourn for me never,
I am going to do nothing for ever and ever.'

Anonymous

think i am done being funny...off to read plath....

:D

---

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by freckle

Dear stef, hope you are feeling better...cheer up poetry? ...well this one from roald dahl makes me laff every time...

hot and cold

A woman who my mother knows
Came in and took off all her clothes.

Said I, not being very old,
'By golly gosh, you must be cold!'

'No, no!' she cried. 'Indeed I'm not!
I'm feeling devilishly hot!'






southern softie i loved your contribution!
n dubya you are so down with the kids..like
hes...i love the image of you working with the kids on the spring images/books

:)

---

Love the poem Freckle! The kids took my class into their own hands with the 7 year olds making friendship books and one on the solar system (!) and the older ones did Tim Burton films, sharks, reptiles, a fabulous mixed media piece featuring body parts, a beautiful illustration of a combine harvester at work and one actually illustrated a poem! Just goes to show, I prepare too much and should just wing it.

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Derby Tup

While traipsing through the storms and gales,
Stef F was dreaming of a move to the Dales,
The cold and wet was a pain,
It was all wind and heavy rain,
What she really needed was a boat with sails!

---

:D:):D

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Hes

Love the poem Freckle! The kids took my class into their own hands with the 7 year olds making friendship books and one on the solar system (!) and the older ones did Tim Burton films, sharks, reptiles, a fabulous mixed media piece featuring body parts, a beautiful illustration of a combine harvester at work and one actually illustrated a poem! Just goes to show, I prepare too much and should just wing it.

---

The creativity of children is awesome at times and i bet you were a fab facilitator!