Today's poet

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Old Whippet

Well I'm impressed that you can sleep in, do everything that needs to be done, [i]and[i] find an appropriate poem about it! How on earth does she do it???

Just come across Yehuda Amichai

A QUIET JOY – Yehuda Amichai
.
I’m standing in a place where I once loved.
The rain is falling. The rain is my home.

I think words of longing: a landscape
out to the very edge of what’s possible.

I remember you waving your hand
as if wiping mist from the windowpane,

and your face, as if enlarged
from an old blurred photo.

Once I committed a terrible wrong
to myself and others.

But the world is beautifully made for doing good
and for resting, like a park bench.

And late in life I discovered
a quiet joy
like a serious disease that’s discovered too late:

just a little time left now for quiet joy.

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Why thank you OW!...i love the above poem, so moving......especially the last line "just a little time left now for quiet joy"....lovely .......:)

Merry I really liked your little verse too (that avatar is so cool!) :D

Drunk as drunk on turpentine
From your open kisses
Your wet body wedged
Between my wet body and the strake
Of our boat that is made of flowers
Feasted, we guide it - our fingers Like tallows adorned with yellow metal
Over the sky's hot rim,
The day's last breath in our sails

Pinned by the sun between solstice And equinox,
drowsy and tangled together
We drifted for months and woke
With the bitter taste of land on our lips,
Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime
And the sound of a rope
Lowering a bucket down its well.
Then we came by night to the Fortunate Isles
And lay like fish
Under the net of our kisses

I think that like all the good things in life: Snecklifter, sunshine, the fells, a bit of romance we also need our weekly dose of Pablo Neruda :cool:

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Derby Tup

Drunk as drunk on turpentine
From your open kisses
Your wet body wedged
Between my wet body and the strake
Of our boat that is made of flowers
Feasted, we guide it - our fingers Like tallows adorned with yellow metal
Over the sky's hot rim,
The day's last breath in our sails

Pinned by the sun between solstice And equinox,
drowsy and tangled together
We drifted for months and woke
With the bitter taste of land on our lips,
Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime
And the sound of a rope
Lowering a bucket down its well.
Then we came by night to the Fortunate Isles
And lay like fish
Under the net of our kisses

I think that like all the good things in life: Snecklifter, sunshine, the fells, a bit of romance we also need our weekly dose of Pablo Neruda :cool:

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Ahhhhhhh...lovely DT...I whole heartedly agree.....your list encompasses all the things I love in life! (its good that snecklifter is right there at the start!).......i love the idea of a boat made of flowers and adore the line "under the net of our kisses".....gosh.....my boring old lunch just got better! thank you :)

Just a quickie guys...supposed to be looking at bus timetables! Hope you are all well.

kerala cafe
a christmas star lights the way
for hungry geckos

beloved small bird
who left with our summer
we share the same warmth

The last was at the lovely sight of a swallow near the spice markets.

Two more lovely haiku Hes :cool:

wandering printer
composes Japanese verse
in South India

:)

Hello Hes nice haiku.

20 % Risk. 1 in 5 successful. Time 21.

You caress the scars that run like rails down my arms,
Let's play with the knives tonight dear let's have fun,
Your blood stained hands through my hair i fall for your charms,
Watching the claret slowly from my wrist start to run.

My angel of death you always join me in this most purest act,
To our necks we take the blade and slowly cut and join together,
You will never know real ecstasy and freedom until this ritual you enact,
Heaven will yours if you have the bravery to find it, you will live forever.

But then in a second my lover has gone and i'm left dying on my bed,
Crimson linen and a shattered bottle in my hand i have no strength,
All goes black i'm alone my thirty nine years run through my head,
I wake up and say sorry to my wife my stay in hospital will be two weeks in length.

Darku.

Two sides struggle on,
Dark will nearly always win,
Suicide number 21.

By Matt Harmston.

Edale Skyline.

Alone looking down on Edale,
Wind blowing,rain soaking me thru,
Such beauty and peace shall never fail,
To make me ever tired of you.

Nearby i can see most of kinder,
It really does cleanse my soul,
I must spend more time not be a stranger,
The matchless beauty helps make me whole.

Sun,rain,wind and a blizzard of snow,
Racing round in march will always be an honour,
There is no place i would rather go,
The result won't matter just being there your a winner.


By Matt Harmston.