er...that's potato (you can see why I'm no longer oin education:o).Quote:
Originally Posted by Mossdog
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er...that's potato (you can see why I'm no longer oin education:o).Quote:
Originally Posted by Mossdog
Lovely HHH...and TRi your poem was grand...I am shattered so turning in, has been a lovely moon inspired evening...Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
underneath a new moon
a sunspot dreams
of a beguiling animal
the one who
w-a-t-c-h-e-s
her sleep
and guards
the entrance
i(l)n(o)t(v)o(e)
night all dear friends :)
Lovely MG.Quote:
Originally Posted by Mountain Goatess
night night Freckle. Don't forget your alarm clock tonight!Quote:
Originally Posted by freckle
Yes I think it is my favourite of the night. :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
Very moody isn't it!
Please all visit tonight's music thread....I have placed a very beautiful piece of music there which fits in lovely with tonights poem topic! xxx
Yeap. It's time to turn in too. Night all.
A Lover's Rondeau
by: Christine Siebeneck Swayne
A clouded moon in summer skies
That arch a lover's paradise,
A moon, half-hid, that shimmers through
White clouds across the midnight blue;
Soft, blurring mist, that, trailing, flies,
To lodge where cloud-drift massing lies,
Where vapor mountains dimly rise,
Each snowy ridge line pointing to
A clouded moon;--
Here eyes gaze deep in thrilling eyes,
And arms reach out on love's emprise
While lips say only "you" and "you"--
On such a night men wed or woo,
While slowly down the heaven dies,
A clouded moon.
Night night allQuote:
Originally Posted by Mossdog
Night everyone. ;)Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
Top of the morning to ya!
I think i may have posted this one b4 but it remains lovely.....
Sleeping beside you I dreamt
I woke beside you;
Waking beside you
I thought I was dreaming.
Have you ever slept beside an ocean?
Well yes,
It is like this.
The whole motion of landscapes, of oceans
Is within her.
She is
The innocence of any flesh sleeping,
So vulnerable
No protection is needed.
In such times
The heart opens,
Contains all there is,
There being no more than her.
In what country she is
I cannot tell.
But knowing – because there is love
And it blots out all demons –
She is safe,
I can turn,
Sleep well beside her.
Waking beside her I am dreaming.
Dreaming of such wakings
I am all love’s senses woken.
Brian Patten
Its so cold and dark out there...shal i go for a run b4 work or not? this is the question...oh well, i'll post a poem whilst pondering....
R.Burns
Sleep'st thou, or wak'st thou, fairest creature;
Rosy morn now lifts his eye,
Numbering ev'ry bud which nature
Waters wi' the tears of joy.
Now, to the streaming fountain,
Or up the heathy mountain,
The hart, hind, and roe, freely, wildly-wanton stray:
In twining hazel bowers,
His lay the linnet pours;
The lavrock, to the sky
Ascends wi' sangs o' joy;
While the sun and thou arise to bless the day.
Phoebus, gilding the brow of the morning,
Banishes ilk darksome shade,
Nature gladdening and adorning;
Such to me my lovely maid.
When frae my Jeany parted,
Sad, cheerless, broken-hearted,
Then night's gloomy shades, cloudy, dark, o'ercast my sky:
But when she charms my sight,
In pride of beauty's light;
When through my very heart
Her beaming glories dart;
'Tis then -- 'tis then, I wake to life and joy!
When night is almost done,
And sunrise grows so near
That we can touch the spaces,
It's time to smooth the hair
And get the dimples ready,
And wonder we could care
For that old faded midnight
That frightened but an hour.
(Emily Dickinson)
Ah...good morning X Runner, so nice to have you back!....:);)Quote:
Originally Posted by XRunner
this is a lovely one from Emily, that girl can write! love the line "And sunrise grows so near, that we can touch the spaces".......
Don't feel as if you have woken up yet?....
try this....flute poetry!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FW25q...layer_embedded
Well done to Freckle, this is the only one of that plethora of random Today's threads that has taken off; they were waiting for you Freckle, it was your destiny. ;)
Aw shucks thanks ;).....you are sweet (or at least I hope you are and your not trying to be ironic!!!:eek:).....anyhoo, what did you think of the flute poetry ?Quote:
Originally Posted by mr brightside
Anyone for a spot of Margaret Atwood?
This one is for us all.
The poets hang on
The poets hang on.
Iťs hard to get rid of them,
though lord knows iťs been tried.
We pass them on the road
standing there with their begging bowls,
an ancient custom.
Nothing in those now
but dried flies and bad pennies.
They stare straight ahead.
Are they dead, or what?
Yet they have the irritating look
of those who know more than we do.
More of what?
What is it they claim to know?
Spit it out, we hiss at them.
Say it plain!
If you try for a simple answer,
thaťs when they pretend to be crazy,
or else drunk, or else poor.
They put those costumes on
some time ago,
those black sweaters, those tatters;
now they can't get them off.
And they're having trouble with their teeth.
Thaťs one of their burdens.
They could use some dental work.
They're having trouble with their wings, as well.
We're not getting much from them
in the flight department these days.
No more soaring, no radiance,
no skylarking.
What the hell are they paid for?
(Suppose they are paid.)
They can't get off the ground,
them and their muddy feathers.
If they fly, iťs downwards,
into the damp grey earth.
Go away, we say —
and take your boring sadness.
You're not wanted here.
You´ve forgotten how to tell us
how sublime we are.
How love is the answer:
we always liked that one.
You´ve forgotten how to kiss up.
You're not wise any more.
You´ve lost your splendour.
But the poets hang on.
They're nothing if not tenacious.
They can't sing, they can't fly.
They only hop and croak
and bash themselves against the air
as if in cages,
and tell the odd tired joke.
When asked about it, they say
they speak what they must.
Cripes, they're pretentious.
They know something, though.
They do know something.
Something they're whispering,
something we can't quite hear.
Is it about sex?
Is it about dust?
Is it about fear?
Very amusing OW very amusing! :DQuote:
Originally Posted by Old Whippet
This one cheered me up. :)
A sparkly time is being had this Christmas xxx
Let your lines of wisdom show,
smile, let every one you know
just how great you are
you sparkle like a star
Let your eyes do the talking,
and your soul all the walking
your hands all the holding
your tears all the scolding
Sparkle like you own the world
shine like you are you
open all the locked up doors
let everyone you love right through
Clear away the cobwebs hidden in your heart,
replace the space with joy and peace to make a new and fresher start
light up the corridors leading to your mind
take a trip inside yourself and see what you can find
Mop away the mess left by others through the years,
leave an open room, get to know your fears.
sparkle like you know you should,
give your sorry life a chance
take your soul by the hand and both of you should dance
You are a diamond never to be worn,
sparkle like the jewel you are, the way that you were born
in yourself you should roam, you hold an empty seat.
sit and take control, feel the passion, feel the heat!
Round and round
Forty-two peaks.
In December sprinkled
with icing sugar.
Forty-two peaks.
On summer solstice covered
by hundreds and thousands.
Excellent stuff. Welcome to the thread JF.Quote:
Originally Posted by Johnny Foreigner
Very good! ;)Quote:
Originally Posted by Johnny Foreigner
That has a Christmassy feel without even mentioning Christmas :)
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mountain Goatess
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mountain Goatess
Gosh this is really really lovely thank you MG! :)
Ooooooo I like this a lot johnny welcome to the thread! :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Johnny Foreigner
The History Of One Tough Mother****er
he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and
terrorized
a white cross-eyed tailless cat
I took him in and fed him and he stayed
grew to trust me until a friend drove up the driveway
and ran him over
I took what was left to a vet who said,"not much
chance...give him these pills...his backbone
is crushed, but is was crushed before and somehow
mended, if he lives he'll never walk, look at
these x-rays, he's been shot, look here, the pellets
are still there...also, he once had a tail, somebody
cut it off..."
I took the cat back, it was a hot summer, one of the
hottest in decades, I put him on the bathroom
floor, gave him water and pills, he wouldn't eat, he
wouldn't touch the water, I dipped my finger into it
and wet his mouth and I talked to him, I didn't go any-
where, I put in a lot of bathroom time and talked to
him and gently touched him and he looked back at
me with those pale blue crossed eyes and as the days went
by he made his first move
dragging himself forward by his front legs
(the rear ones wouldn't work)
he made it to the litter box
crawled over and in,
it was like the trumpet of possible victory
blowing in that bathroom and into the city, I
related to that cat-I'd had it bad, not that
bad but bad enough
one morning he got up, stood up, fell back down and
just looked at me.
"you can make it," I said to him.
he kept trying, getting up falling down, finally
he walked a few steps, he was like a drunk, the
rear legs just didn't want to do it and he fell again, rested,
then got up.
you know the rest: now he's better than ever, cross-eyed
almost toothless, but the grace is back, and that look in
his eyes never left...
and now sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about
life and literature and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed,
shot, runover de-tailed cat and I say,"look, look
at this!"
but they don't understand, they say something like,"you
say you've been influenced by Celine?"
"no," I hold the cat up,"by what happens, by
things like this, by this, by this!"
I shake the cat, hold him up in
the smoky and drunken light, he's relaxed he knows...
it's then that the interviews end
although I am proud sometimes when I see the pictures
later and there I am and there is the cat and we are photo-
graphed together.
he too knows it's bullshit but that somehow it all helps.
Charles Bukowski
I love this gritty poet, can't remember if it was HHH, Freckle or OW who introduced me to him, or maybe even ML, but thanks anyway:)
PS do you know that the FRA forum thingymejig actually puts ***s into 'naughty words automatically? So what other words are banned?
What a great tale. I think I'll wait until the watershed to give the auto-bleeper a ****ing go. :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Mossdog
Ha ha it sodding does doesn't it Mossy.Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
Blow, blow, thou winter wind
Thou art not so unkind
As man's ingratitude;
Thy tooth is not so keen,
Because thou art not seen,
Although thy breath be rude.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most freindship if feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.
Freeze, freeze thou bitter sky,
That does not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot:
Though thou the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp
As a friend remembered not.
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:
Most freindship if feigning, most loving mere folly:
Then heigh-ho, the holly!
This life is most jolly.
William Shakespeare
No i'm not being funny i'm just surprised at how this one has flown, i'm pretty sure it averages the most hits on general chat. I don't know what flute poetry is i'm afraid. :oQuote:
Originally Posted by freckle
It has just been fun I think, somewhere to hang out and be positive together. It is good chosing other's well chosen words to express yourself, and great to have a go ourselves without fear. There is a poem for every occasion.Quote:
Originally Posted by mr brightside
The FRA even gets a mention in this one.
Mark Alexander Boyd.
1563–1601
Sonnet
FRA bank to bank, fra wood to wood I rin,
Ourhailit with my feeble fantasie;
Like til a leaf that fallis from a tree,
Or til a reed ourblawin with the wind.
Twa gods guides me: the ane of tham is blind,
Yea and a bairn brocht up in vanitie;
The next a wife ingenrit of the sea,
And lichter nor a dauphin with her fin.
Unhappy is the man for evermair
That tills the sand and sawis in the air;
But twice unhappier is he, I lairn,
That feidis in his hairt a mad desire,
And follows on a woman throw the fire,
Led by a blind and teachit by a bairn.
Quote:
Originally Posted by mr brightside
Thanks Mr Brightside....i don't really thnk there is any such thing as flute poetry really, i was just trying to justify the you tube link i put up earlier with t he guy playing a flute in an unusual manner!...it would be nice if you keep popping up on here, the more the merrier! :):D
Now Winter Nights Enlarge
by Thomas Campion
Now winter nights enlarge
The number of their houres ;
And clouds their stormes discharge
Upon the ayrie towres.
Let now the chimneys blaze
And cups o'erflow with wine,
Let well-tun'd words amaze
With harmonie diuine.
Now yellow waxen lights
Shall waite on hunny Loue
While youthfull Reuels, Masks, and Courtly sights,
Sleepes leaden spels remoue.
This time doth well dispence
With lovers long discourse ;
Much speech hath some defence,
Though beauty no remorse.
All doe not all things well ;
Some measures comely tread ;
Some knotted Ridles tell ;
Some Poems smoothly read.
The Summer hath his ioyes,
And Winter his delights ;
Though Loue and all his pleasures are but toyes,
They shorten tedious nights.
Thoreau's FluteQuote:
Originally Posted by freckle
We sighing said, "Our Pan is dead;
His pipe hangs mute beside the river
Around it wistful sunbeams quiver,
But Music's airy voice is fled.
Spring mourns as for untimely frost;
The bluebird chants a requiem;
The willow-blossom waits for him;
The Genius of the wood is lost."
Then from the flute, untouched by hands,
There came a low, harmonious breath:
"For such as he there is no death;
His life the eternal life commands;
Above man's aims his nature rose.
The wisdom of a just content
Made one small spot a continent
And turned to poetry life's prose.
"Haunting the hills, the stream, the wild,
Swallow and aster, lake and pine,
To him grew human or divine,
Fit mates for this large-hearted child.
Such homage Nature ne'er forgets,
And yearly on the coverlid
'Neath which her darling lieth hid
Will write his name in violets.
"To him no vain regrets belong
Whose soul, that finer instrument,
Gave to the world no poor lament,
But wood-notes ever sweet and strong.
O lonely friend! he still will be
A potent presence, though unseen,
Steadfast, sagacious, and serene;
Seek not for him -- he is with thee."
(Louisa May Alcott )
Metamorphosis
a girlfriend came in
built me a bed
scrubbed and waxed the kitchen floor
scrubbed the walls
vacuumed
cleaned the toilet
the bathtub
scrubbed the bathroom floor
and cut my toenails and
my hair.
then
all on the same day
the plumber came and fixed the kitchen faucet
and the toilet
and the gas man fixed the heater
and the phone man fixed the phone.
noe I sit in all this perfection.
it is quiet.
I have broken off with all 3 of my girlfriends.
I felt better when everything was in
disorder.
it will take me some months to get back to normal:
I can't even find a roach to commune with.
I have lost my rythm.
I can't sleep.
I can't eat.
I have been robbed of
my filth.
Charles Bukowski </B>
Loved the other bukowski your posted mossy....HHH liking the wintry theme tonight...hows the laptop? still requiring your own particular brand of TLC?......:D
ps bit of an interesting life our charles....
not exactly a fell runner...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Bukowski
pps i read post office many years ago, a drak but interesting read...
December snowfall
deadens sounds, casts eerie light
makes your nose tingle
Lovely as ever DT.......wonder what the haiku equivalent is in India right now? :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Derby Tup
So HHH could you pen a poem with so many 'unauthorized' expletives that it's censored effectively into a line of 'stars'? Now there's a challenge! I wonder what's on the banned list?Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
Gawd bless ya X Runner........I am impressed (as usual !!!) ;)Quote:
Originally Posted by XRunner
Still hanging on thanks. I poked it with a screwdriver and a couple of cotton buds and now it has stopped sounding like a hovercraft.Quote:
Originally Posted by freckle
I think that is good. No?
Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
Is it just my mind or could that read as an extremely rude metaphor?.......:eek:....perhaps its because I have been reading bukowski tonight :D