Great little poem Freckle. It's a canny poem lass.
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Great little poem Freckle. It's a canny poem lass.
When the clock of my life chimes
I will not weep
For then I know it is time to sleep
If this is the day I die
Will I ascend to a glorious sky
A blue and white plain with outstretched fields
Oh what beauty this kingdom yields
Joy, splendour and wonderful things
Will be brought to me on an angels wings
For if the life in heaven
is better than that on Earth
I cannot wait for my immortal birth
Tri mind you really are writing some top notch stuff :)
aw shucks thanks tri :)Quote:
Originally Posted by tri-mind
this is lovely, is it your own work?Quote:
Originally Posted by neil wootton
It is Freckle, although I don't know if I even like it. I wrote it quite a few years ago when I was pondwering what I thought heaven would be like if I was a deeply religous person, so it's a sort of pseudo religous poem I think:confused:
Wow...you guys have been busy and there is so much amazing stuff here. Tri-mind is obviously on a roll and has definitely found his voice but I also love the posts by the rest of you and I am very pleased to see the return of Neil and TurboTom. Alas...I went biking instead of working and so now I am paying for it. Not too much posting for me tonight but I'll call back in later when I have done some doodling.
re goldfish....
Margaret Atwood - You Fit Into Me
You fit into me
like a hook into an eye
A fish hook
An open eye
Pink Floyd
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have you found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.
O.W.
A silent witness
To a familiar scene
Domestic meltdown
Heinz Fifty Seven
baked beans in tomato sauce
four slices of heaven
:cool:
OW whenever you disappear from the thread for a while, you can guarantee that your return will bring with it some gems!Quote:
Originally Posted by Old Whippet
A man after my own heart, that sounds like the best idea for my tea!Quote:
Originally Posted by Derby Tup
a remedy
bracing exercise
icy puddles, biting wind
subduing the fire
I found this poem today for the first time...its one of those poems I wish I had found earlier and shared earlier...I find it so inspiring I hope you do too...
To an english friend in Africa
Ben Okri
Be grateful for freedom
To see other dreams.
Bless your loneliness as much as you drank
Of your former companionships.
All that you are experiencing now
Will become moods of future joys
So bless it all.
Do not think your ways superior
To another's
Do not venture to judge
But see things with fresh and open eyes
Do not condemn
But praise what you can
And when you can't be silent.
Time is now a gift for you
A gift of freedom
To think and remember and understand
The ever perplexing past
And to re-create yourself anew
In order to transform time.
Live while you are alive.
Learn the ways of silence and wisdom
Learn to act, learn a new speech
Learn to be what you are in the seed of your spirit
Learn to free yourself from all things that have moulded you
And which limit your secret and undiscovered road.
Remember that all things which happen
To you are raw materials
Endlessly fertile
Endlessly yielding of thoughts that could change
Your life and go on doing for ever.
Never forget to pray and be thankful
For all the things good or bad on the rich road;
For everything is changeable
So long as you live while you are alive.
Fear not, but be full of light and love;
Fear not but be alert and receptive;
Fear not but act decisively when you should;
Fear not, but know when to stop;
Fear not for you are loved by me;
Fear not, for death is not the real terror,
But life -magically - is.
Be joyful in your silence
Be strong in your patience
Do not try to wrestle with the universe
But be sometimes like water or air
Sometimes like fire
And constant like the earth.
Live slowly, think slowly, for time is a mystery.
Never forget that love
Requires that you be
The greatest person you are capable of being,
Self-generating and strong and gentle-
Your own hero and star.
Love demands the best in us
To always and in time overcome the worst
And lowest in our souls.
Love the world wisely.
It is love alone that is the greatest weapon
And the deepest and hardest secret.
So fear not, my friend.
The darkness is gentler than you think.
Be grateful for the manifold
Dreams of creation
And the many ways of unnumbered peoples.
Be grateful for life as you live it.
And may a wonderful light
Always guide you on the unfolding road.
i think its jolly good...i like the freedom associated with the idea of a pseudo religious poem (especially as I am a non believer)Quote:
Originally Posted by neil wootton
Freckle, the Ben Okri poem is something that I took in my notebook when I travelled alone for a year and half. It is more relevant today than ever and so thank you very much for reminding me of it!
It is so good to have you back OW with some thought provoking words...I am a fan of Atwood, I think those lines convey both the pain and the beauty of an intense love between two people...your reference to Pink Floyd made me think again of the Ben Okri poem I have just posted...this also touches on fear, change and the capacity to "stay alive" as a human being (something to remember in times of adversity)...there are so many layers to the poem i think its quite something....thanks again for your post :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Old Whippet
I'm glad you like it Hes, ...it seems so relevant to your upcoming journey, I had you in my mind's eye whilst reading it...and another friendQuote:
Originally Posted by Hes
p.s. part of me wishes i could climb into your suitcase and escape to india...it sounds like such a wonderful and exciting adventure!!!
Another good one from Ben Okri
They say
They say
Love grows
When the fear of death
Looms.
They say
Courage looms
When the fear
Of never loving again
Disappears
In the smell of the enemy
Who crushes us so much
We can only fight.
Love and courage grow together
When the flesh is rawest
And the spirit charged
And distorted within the nightmare
We see the possibility
Of a future.
Old.
Sepia memories are all i have left,
My love gone now for so many years,
A tired old man downtrodden bereft,
Existing alone as the end nears.
There was a better time when sunlight came in,
Her smile would bring such joy to me,
It's only alone at night that i see her again.
I hope it's not long now for me to join my love in eternity.
By Matt Harmston.
Sonnet LXXXI
And now you're mine.
Rest with your dream in my dream
Love and pain and work should all sleep now.
The night turns on its invisible wheels,
and you are pure beside me as a sleeping amber
No one else, Love, will sleep in my dreams.
You will go we will go together,
over the waters of time
No one else will travel through the shadows with me only you,
evergreen, ever sun, ever moon.
Your hands have already opened their delicate fists and let their soft drifting signs drop away your eyes closed like two gray wings,
and I move after, following the folding water you carry, that carries me away. The night, the world, the wind that carries me away.
The night, the world, the wind spin out of their destiny.
Without you, I am your dream, only that,
And that is all
Pablo Neruda
Each day everyone just seems to get better i love the choices of poems and everyones creations.
The Heart of a Friend
I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.
I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?
Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.
by H. W. Longfellow
Snowflakes
Out of the bosom of the air.
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent and soft and slow
Descends the snow.
Even as our cloudy fancies take
Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
Even as the troubled heart doth make
In the white countenance confession,
The troubled sky reveals
The grief it feels
This is the poem of the air,
Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the secret of despair,
Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
Now whispered and revealed
To wood and field.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
That is so beautiful. Did you plan to pick Longfellow or was it a coincidence XRunner? You do make some great choices.Quote:
Originally Posted by XRunner
Another by Longfellow. Oh for a driftwood fire and all the time in the world!
THE FIRE OF DRIFT-WOOD
Devereaux Farm, near Marblehead
We sat within the farm-house old,
Whose windows, looking o'er the bay,
Gave to the sea-breeze, damp and cold,
An easy entrance, night and day.
Not far away we saw the port,
The strange, old-fashioned, silent town,
The lighthouse, the dismantled fort,
The wooden houses, quaint and brown.
We sat and talked until the night,
Descending, filled the little room;
Our faces faded from the sight,
Our voices only broke the gloom.
We spake of many a vanished scene,
Of what we once had thought and said,
Of what had been, and might have been,
And who was changed, and who was dead;
And all that fills the hearts of friends,
When first they feel, with secret pain,
Their lives thenceforth have separate ends,
And never can be one again;
The first slight swerving of the heart,
That words are powerless to express,
And leave it still unsaid in part,
Or say it in too great excess.
The very tones in which we spake
Had something strange, I could but mark;
The leaves of memory seemed to make
A mournful rustling in the dark.
Oft died the words upon our lips,
As suddenly, from out the fire
Built of the wreck of stranded ships,
The flames would leap and then expire.
And, as their splendor flashed and failed,
We thought of wrecks upon the main,
Of ships dismasted, that were hailed
And sent no answer back again.
The windows, rattling in their frames,
The ocean, roaring up the beach,
The gusty blast, the bickering flames,
All mingled vaguely in our speech.
Until they made themselves a part
Of fancies floating through the brain,
The long-lost ventures of the heart,
That send no answers back again.
O flames that glowed! O hearts that yearned!
They were indeed too much akin,
The drift-wood fire without that burned,
The thoughts that burned and glowed within.
Expression.
I want to see inside of you deep within your soul,
Express you unreservedly let your passion flow like a river,
Be naked in front of everyone your creativity makes you whole,
Give yourself to everyone less your does start to wither.
Each one of us has beauty living deep within our heart,
Do no not question your ability let freedom be your muse,
One brush stroke , one word and one dream don't be afraid to start,
If you share your soul with all there is no way you can lose.
By Matt Harmston.
How utterly adorable...what is it about sleep and lovers that is so very poetic?Quote:
Originally Posted by Derby Tup
I can well understand that Hes. I think I'll carry it for a while too. Thanks Freckle for posting it.Quote:
Originally Posted by Hes
Just dragged myself and hounds out for a few miles with the head torch.
10 Days
Can this mouldering disc
Cradled in sulphurous uplit cloud
Be the same creature
As the ivory crescent we spied through the trees?
Can these leaden feet
Wearily carried by heavy legs
Be the same that
Barely touched the forest floor?
Waxing
Waning
Renewal brings fresh hope.
I just love his poems. It's almost like something is added in the slightly clumsy translation but the best ones are very passionate and expressive :cool:Quote:
Originally Posted by freckle
[quote=Hes;281420]Another by Longfellow. Oh for a driftwood fire and all the time in the world!
Some absolutely beautiful work and choices tonight...i wasn't familiar with Longfellow and have appreciated the poems posted by hes and x runner, thank you...i found the driftwood one particularly moving, i really liked the following lines....
We spake of many a vanished scene,
Of what we once had thought and said,
Of what had been, and might have been,
And who was changed, and who was dead;
And all that fills the hearts of friends,
When first they feel, with secret pain,
Their lives thenceforth have separate ends,
And never can be one again;
and...
The long-lost ventures of the heart,
That send no answers back again.
O flames that glowed! O hearts that yearned!
They were indeed too much akin,
The drift-wood fire without that burned,
The thoughts that burned and glowed within.
beautifully evocative stuff!....also tri mind the expression poem was another corker!
just pured myself a drink and going to browse for something to post....
Simply exquisite.......:)Quote:
Originally Posted by Old Whippet
Right...we haven't had anything rude or saucy for ages round here so in the spirit of variety...here goes
My mouth hovers across your breasts
in the short grey winter afternoon
in this bed we are delicate
and touch so hot with joy we amaze ourselves
tough and delicate we play rings
around each other our daytime candle burns
with its peculiar light and if the snow
begins to fall outside filling the branches
and if the night falls without announcement
there are the pleasures of winter
sudden, wild and delicate your fingers
exact my tongue exact at the same moment
stopping to laugh at a joke
my love hot on your scent on the cusp of winter
Adrienne Rich
I await the tumbleweed....:eek:
ok ok i'll get back to misery and angst folks...anne sexton is good for that...
Watch out for power,
for its avalanche can bury you,
snow, snow, snow, smothering your mountain.
Watch out for hate,
it can open its mouth and you'll fling yourself out
to eat off your leg, an instant leper.
Watch out for friends,
because when you betray them,
as you will,
they will bury their heads in the toilet
and flush themselves away.
Watch out for intellect,
because it knows so much it knows nothing
and leaves you hanging upside down,
mouthing knowledge as your heart
falls out of your mouth.
Watch out for games, the actor's part,
the speech planned, known, given,
for they will give you away
and you will stand like a naked little boy,
pissing on your own child-bed
Watch out for love
(unless it is true,
and every part of you says yes including the toes) ,
it will wrap you up like a mummy,
and your scream won't be heard
and none of your running will end.
Love? Be it man. Be it woman.
It must be a wave you want to glide in on,
give your body to it, give your laugh to it,
give, when the gravelly sand takes you,
your tears to the land. To love another is something
like prayer and can't be planned, you just fall
into its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.
Special person,
if I were you I'd pay no attention
to admonitions from me,
made somewhat out of your words
and somewhat out of mine.
A collaboration.
I do not believe a word I have said,
except some, except I think of you like a young tree
with pasted-on leaves and know you'll root
and the real green thing will come.
Let go. Let go.
Oh special person,
possible leaves,
this typewriter likes you on the way to them,
but wants to break crystal glasses
in celebration
for you,
when the dark crust is thrown off
and you float all around
like a happened balloon
Anne Sexton
This has to be one of my favourite things that you've written OW. It makes me want to cry for some reason. Sorry if I sound a bit overemotional. I've always maintained that the best relationships are like the moon and wax and wane but it is cyclical and the knowledge that it is so carries you through. What do I know anyway? I can only observe other people's!Quote:
Originally Posted by Old Whippet
My favourite ever poem
When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,
When the road you're trudging seems all uphill,
When the funds are low and the debts are high,
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh,
When care is pressing you down a bit-
Rest if you must, but don't you quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns,
As every one of us sometimes learns,
And many a fellow turns about
When he might have won had he stuck it out.
Don't give up though the pace seems slow -
You may succeed with another blow.
Often the goal is nearer than
It seems to a faint and faltering man;
Often the struggler has given up
When he might have captured the victor's cup;
And he learned too late when the night came down,
How close he was to the golden crown.
Success is failure turned inside out -
The silver tint in the clouds of doubt,
And you never can tell how close you are,
It might be near when it seems so far;
So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit -
It's when things seem worst that you must not quit.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Roy Scott
Lovely Roy! :) one to print out and put on my office wall i think!
weep away hes. I am always appreciative of your feedback. Seriously. It make this a special place to post, as tri-mind noted earlier. You're right....knowing that the wheel keeps on rolling keeps hope alive during the tough times.Quote:
Originally Posted by Hes
ditto x a million :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Old Whippet
The best thing anyone ever said to me when a very long relationship ended was 'so it is all change: change is good'. That has stayed with me since and it keeps me going when times are tough and makes me appreciative when times are good.Quote:
Originally Posted by Old Whippet
I lean back with a Metro in my face
How different this scramble, this race
Tucked in, only five stops left
Whats in store today, I draw breath
I shake my head at the Ipod excess
Those guys wanting everything express
Close my lids, block the din
Mind wanders, surely thats no sin
Transported with the flicker of a neurone
Running the fells be I, all alone
Soft green pastures I skip
Rocks and green flow below the hip
Back to reality my desk awaits
Suddenly it matters less, being late
For that enduring scene
Will keep my mind sane and lean
By Roy Scott
I've not had chance to write anything comprehendable tonight, but I've enjoyed all your posts again friends.
x
enforced paralysis
i listen and wretch
at p(y)a(o)i(u)n(r)