you took the words right outta my mouth!..........:)Quote:
Originally Posted by Derby Tup
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you took the words right outta my mouth!..........:)Quote:
Originally Posted by Derby Tup
My goodness. What a fascinating guy. No wonder it took him 20 years to write it. Thanks for the link. Lathkill Dale was a camping spot for many years when I was younger.Quote:
Originally Posted by XRunner
Quote:
Whoever loves the west will know
The dales deep down in crevices,
The wind in lonely clumps of trees;
Will hear, where western waters flow,
Such hasty streams as tumbling move,
The smoother Lathkill, rapid Dove
And all those brooks that gently go
Through meadow valleys on their way
And whisper what they have to say.
I thought you never quoted song lyrics!!!!!!!! :DQuote:
Originally Posted by freckle
Whens hes back? we might need to look at later dates and venues for jcc its just york handy for me..not too farQuote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
Poetically, we know a song about that.Quote:
Originally Posted by Old Whippet
Early Jan I believe.Quote:
Originally Posted by freckle
Quote:
Originally Posted by sheep
Sheep!!!!!! i love it when you pop in ! :):D:)
You can't beat a good bit of family fun from the Chumberley-Wumberlies.Quote:
Originally Posted by freckle
I've been caught with that on in the car with innapropriate passengers a few times. :D
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose,
or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved in secret,
between the shadow and the soul
I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you so close that your hand on my chest is my hand so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
Pablo Neruda
where I does not exist, nor you so close that your hand on my chest is my hand so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep........
oh my giddy aunt...how utterly beautiful is this....thank you DT...:)
I read this this morning and you're right, the last lines are wonderrful. It didn't feel right posting it at 10am!Quote:
Originally Posted by freckle
i think we are all just hopeless romantics on this thread!...and on that very soft note...good night all...sleep tight xQuote:
Originally Posted by Derby Tup
Perfect DT. Bed time for me, and some lovely imagery to take with me.Quote:
Originally Posted by Derby Tup
night night poets
Here's one for every hopeless romantic. Any successful romantics out there will have to find their own!........:DQuote:
Originally Posted by freckle
‘Hopeless Romantic’, by Patricia Gale.
Trickling down and fallen round The tears from her transparent heart
The window to her soul now open
Hoping he would see
The love she needs
Hopeless romantic please hear her plea
Loneliness came as a visitor
But now has taken resident
The events that lead to the vacancy
Was not seen my her love
Push and shove she does remain
Knowing some day she will go insane
Refraining from her departure
Hopeless romantic can you not see
Holding on to loves last strand
Sands of time fallen down
Her crown of freedom awaits her
Only if she could be sure
Is it right to flee
To sail away from her sorrows
Hopeless romantic in need of reprieve
A spell of love is what she is after
A potion to return her love
A seer’s mix to be her fix
An elixir to transfix his cold heart
Oh hopeless romantic what shall it be
Notions for such a useless potion
Consume her every emotion
The desire to return loves fire
Renders her helpless to reality
Nonetheless her endeavor shall remain
Forever shall it be
Hopeless romantic who needs to see
I saw a jolly hunter
I saw a jolly hunter
with a jolly gun
Walking in the country
In the jolly sun
In the jolly meadow
sat a jolly hare
saw the jolly hunter
took jolly care
Hunter jolly eager
sight of jolly prey
forgot gun pointing
wrong jolly way(!)
Jolly hunter jolly head
over heels gone
jolly old safety catch
not jolly on!
Bang! went the jolly gun
Hunter jolly dead
Jolly hare got clean away
Jolly good I said
Charles Causley
Right. I'm offski for the day. Have fun.
Good morning all
HHH- two lovely poems to start the day thank you!
beauty is apparent is found in the most unexpected places...listen to pablo...
Ode to my socks
Pabulo Neruda
Mara Mori brought me
a pair of socks
which she knitted herself
with her sheepherder's hands,
two socks as soft as rabbits.
I slipped my feet into them
as if they were two cases
knitted with threads of twilight and goatskin,
Violent socks,
my feet were two fish made of wool,
two long sharks
sea blue, shot through
by one golden thread,
two immense blackbirds,
two cannons,
my feet were honored in this way
by these heavenly socks.
They were so handsome for the first time
my feet seemed to me unacceptable
like two decrepit firemen,
firemen unworthy of that woven fire,
of those glowing socks.
Nevertheless, I resisted the sharp temptation
to save them somewhere as schoolboys
keep fireflies,
as learned men collect
sacred texts,
I resisted the mad impulse to put them
in a golden cage and each day give them
birdseed and pieces of pink melon.
Like explorers in the jungle
who hand over the very rare green deer
to the spit and eat it with remorse,
I stretched out my feet and pulled on
the magnificent socks and then my shoes.
The moral of my ode is this:
beauty is twice beauty
and what is good is doubly good
when it is a matter of two socks
made of wool in winter.
Morning everyone great stuff again. The gig sounds good and vests too even better. Shall post later. See you then.
Pablo Neruda
exhiled Chilean poet
hosiery expert
:)
.?H?.:confused:Quote:
Originally Posted by Derby Tup
morning poets.
I was looking to see if there was anything around to capture the experience of dewy eyed parents going to see their little ones in nativity plays. Din't find anything relevant, but found this little Kipling number heart-rending. Would have been a good one for Nov
11th.
A Nativity
1914-18
The Babe was laid in the Manger
Between the gentle kine --
All safe from cold and danger --
"But it was not so with mine,
(With mine! With mine!)
"Is it well with the child, is it well?"
The waiting mother prayed.
"For I know not how he fell,
And I know not where he is laid."
A Star stood forth in Heaven;
The Watchers ran to see
The Sign of the Promise given --
"But there comes no sign to me.
(To me! To me!)
"My child died in the dark.
Is it well with the child, is it well?
There was none to tend him or mark,
And I know not how he fell."
The Cross was raised on high;
The Mother grieved beside --
"But the Mother saw Him die
And took Him when He died.
(He died! He died!)
"Seemly and undefiled
His burial-place was made --
Is it well, is it well with the child?
For I know not where he is laid."
On the dawning of Easter Day
Comes Mary Magdalene;
But the Stone was rolled away,
And the Body was not within --
(Within! Within!)
"Ah, who will answer my word?
The broken mother prayed.
"They have taken away my Lord,
And I know not where He is laid."
. . . . .
"The Star stands forth in Heaven.
The watchers watch in vain
For Sign of the Promise given
Of peace on Earth again --
(Again! Again!)
"But I know for Whom he fell" --
The steadfast mother smiled,
"Is it well with the child -- is it well?
It is well -- it is well with the child!"
Rudyard Kipling
I wonder if Freckle or any of you others with nursery/infant school children will be inspired to write a more heart warming nativity poem.
I'd been looking for that!Quote:
Originally Posted by XRunner
Harry Howgill
Hha hha! :DQuote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
Jo Jo's Nativity
Shuffling in,
tinsel skew wiff
little eyes awestruck
each one a different tale
laila knows every word
charlie wants his mum
jo jo pulls at her ear
harry is a fidget bum
an unexpected cast member
crawls onto the stage
mums and grannies dab their eyes
the spectre of time
an unwanted sage
not long before
they are out on the town
"you know it doesn't get any easier"
cautions grandma
but for now
"we wish you a merry xmas"
(even if it ain't)
and sing of a wandering star.
That's lovely. I've been trying for days trying to get Cam to wear his sheep suit but he's not having it. I've ended up wearing it more than he has!Quote:
Originally Posted by freckle
Harry is a fidget bum :D
Harry I can just imagine you age 3 ( and 37) in a sheep suit fidgeting!....aw :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
I nearly answered the door with the damn thing on my head the other day! Goodness knows what the Postie would have thought goes on in our house! :eek::DQuote:
Originally Posted by freckle
I don't know if this poem has been on the thread before
I know people have submitted S. Armitage in the past, but now he's my new best friend an all;)
The tyre
Just how it came to rest where it rested,
miles out, miles from the last farmhouse even,
was a fair question. Dropped by hurricane
or aeroplane perhaps for some reason,
put down as a cairn or marker, then lost.
Tractor-size, six or seven feet across,
it was sloughed, unconscious, warm to the touch,
its gashed, rhinoceros, sea-lion skin
nursing a gallon of rain in its gut.
Lashed to the planet with grasses and roots,
it had to be cut. Stood up it was drunk
or slugged, wanted nothing more than to slump,
to spiral back to its circle of sleep,
dream another year in its nest of peat.
We bullied it over the moor, drove it,
pushed from the back or turned it from the side,
unspooling a thread in the shape and form
of its tread, in its length, and in its line,
rolled its weight through broken walls, felt the shock
when it met with stones, guided its sleepwalk
down to meadows, fields, onto level ground.
There and then we were one connected thing,
five of us, all hands steering a tall ship
or one hand fingering a coin or ring.
Once on the road it picked up pace, free-wheeled,
then moved up through the gears, and wouldn't give
to shoulder-charges, kicks; resisted force
until to tangle with it would have been
to test bone against engine or machine,
to be dragged in, broken, thrown out again
minus a limb. So we let the thing go,
leaning into the bends and corners,
balanced and centred, riding the camber,
carried away with its own momentum.
We pictured an incident up ahead:
life carved open, gardens in half, parted,
a man on a motorbike taken down,
a phone-box upended, children erased,
police and an ambulance in attendance,
scuff-marks and the smell of broken rubber,
the tyre itself embedded in a house
or lying in a gutter, playing dead.
But down in the village the tyre was gone,
and not just gone but unseen and unheard of,
not curled like a cat in the graveyard, not
cornered in the playground like a reptile,
or found and kept like a giant fossil.
Not there or anywhere. No trace. Thin air.
Being more in tune with the feel of things
than science and facts, we knew that the tyre
had travelled too fast for its size and mass,
and broken through some barrier of speed,
outrun the act of being driven, steered,
and at that moment gone beyond itself
towards some other sphere, and disappeared.
This is my new favourite and best poem ever in the whole wide world
I'm wondering if this has already been posted - ah well it's worth another 'reading'...
Love
Because of you, in gardens of blossoming flowers I ache from the
perfumes of spring.
I have forgotten your face, I no longer remember your hands;
how did your lips feel on mine?
Because of you, I love the white statues drowsing in the parks,
the white statues that have neither voice nor sight.
I have forgotten your voice, your happy voice; I have forgotten
your eyes.
Like a flower to its perfume, I am bound to my vague memory of
you. I live with pain that is like a wound; if you touch me, you will
do me irreparable harm.
Your caresses enfold me, like climbing vines on melancholy walls.
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every
window.
Because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; because
of you, I again seek out the signs that precipitate desires: shooting
stars, falling objects.
P Neruda.
Good evening all
Excellent choices neil and mossy, neil i can see why that has become your fave poem and i personally can never get enough of pablo neruda mossy....
I particularly like these lines...
I have forgotten your love, yet I seem to glimpse you in every
window....and....
Because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; because
of you, I again seek out the signs that precipitate desires: shooting
stars, falling objects.
loss is a painful process is it not....
Metamorphosis
I’m not running away man!
I am running toward!
At the beginning, granted
I was running from
confusion, n-e-b-u-l-o-u-s despair
But now..eureka!
I realise...
I am defined not just
by the past
or a shared history
Now I am running to-ward
step PING!
into the looking glass
with hope, excitement
and a little f.e.a.r
to the
f
u
t
u
r
e
That's really uplifting Freckle - thanks. Any more? Or am I just being very greedy?:DQuote:
Originally Posted by freckle
Good choices, Neil & Mossy. Nobody should worry about whether things have been on before. If it is right for now then post it without fear.
Freckle - as heartfelt as ever. Feel the fear and do it anyway!
Aw thanx mossy, your not being greedy but i am feeling a little tired so not sure i have any more this evening, however feel free to post a neruda or any other gem, i always love your posts...HHH i agree it doesn't matter if things have been posted b4 and I for one am not the type to check! :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Mossdog
actually mossy, second thoughts, talking of uplifting and more on a theme of change....
go and open the door
by miroslay holub...
http://www.bbc.co.uk/learningzone/cl...olub/6466.html
Life.
Oh i remember the days back in 76,
We would run through the playing catch,playing ball,
Shouting and jumping kicking stones,throwing sticks,
Scrambling up the hill then up onto the wall.
The sun was so hot my ice cream would melt so quick,
It was wonderful i had no cares at all,
I would eat myself silly until i was sick,
Falling down,standing up like a big rubber ball.
But then i was ill i was in isolation,
A big glass box and no contact for me,
Stuck all alone with just my imagination,
Desperately wanting to escape,to be free.
But mostly my childhood was full of fun,
Being with friends and playing football,
Such carefree days out in the sun,
No hint of what was going to call.
I'm starting to change something inside me,
My first real girlfriend such things we discover,
Swinging emotions up and down trying to break free,
Enjoying each others bodies with my first lover.
School work is easy but i can't keep still,
I finish with jo it breaks my heart,
My minds like a maelstrom i 'm not sure if i'm ill,
I flunk my exams don't know where to start.
I'm 17 now just left school gotta good job at B.T.,
Realising something is not quite right i hold my head and cry,
I start to abuse stuff to try and reduce it's affect on me,
Taking things to bring me down and some to get high.
Move on to my mid twenties i meet my wife,
Drinking and other thing for nearly ten years,
This wonderful woman will change my life,
I tell her all about me she has no fears.
We get married on a wonderful day,
All the years of abuse and having to go it alone,
I love this woman in every way,
It's such a great feeling not being on my own.
Working through my troubles i start to cope,
Life's looking good as we have two boys,
It looks like it's possible there could be some hope,
A beautiful family and all the worlds joys.
We go to the doctors prescribes me some pills,
A consultant psychiatrist tells me it's Bipolar,
There's a chance i may cope with my ills,
Then my wife says it's cancer and i console her.
After sometime we are both on the mend,
It's wonderful to have such an angel with me,
A person to be there with me a lifelong friend,
With our love for each other we will always be free.
I have my ups and downs but cope with it well,
It's an honour and privilege and honour to share it with you all,
It makes me feel better to converse with the poets of the fell,
Freckle,Hes,HHH,Mossdog,Derby Tup,Noel and the rest of you all.
By Matt Harmston
TRi mind, i was wondering where you were and now I know, you were composing this heartfelt and moving piece of work...it brought tears to my eyes...stunning....well done and thank you for posting :)Quote:
Originally Posted by tri-mind
Hey, I get a mention. How cool is that! :cool: Good as ever TM.Quote:
Originally Posted by tri-mind
I've got one of those calendars at work that have "words of wisdom" each day. Basically they have been an absolute load of tosh up until today, December the 9th. Then, just my thing. Positive, but with a dash of sarcasm......:)
A positive attitude
may not solve
all your problems.
But it will annoy
enough people
to make it worth
the effort.
I had one on my office wall for years:Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
"Today is the day you worried about yesterday and all's well"
;)
Wild Nights
by Emily Dickinson
Wild nights. Wild nights!
Were I with thee,
Wild nights should be
Our luxury!
Futile the winds
To a heart in port
Done with the compass
Done with the chart.
Rowing in Eden.
Ah, the sea.
Might I but moor
Tonight with thee!