Yes OW i did
Tri youv'e got a real craft with how you use words
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Yes OW i did
Tri youv'e got a real craft with how you use words
Thank you neil. I am a big fan of your work and wish i had your knack with words as you always seem to write cracking stuff. You seem very well versed in poets and poetry. Is this a long standing interest ?. Is it something to do with your education or job ?.
No mate i'm a sort of interned, unemployed geographer. I just like poetry because the great poets seem to have that great ability to take the things ordinary and make tham beautiful. I also love the reflective qualities of poetry such as " a flash upon the inward eye". That concept for me personally is the essence of poetry.Quote:
Originally Posted by tri-mind
I know what you mean. With me it's just therapeutic i find it the best way of expressing myself. I honestly {and i am not being falsely modest here or anything like that } couldn't tell you if my poetry is good,bad or indifferent from an aesthetic angle as i didn't pass any english exams at school. Which i am sure is noticeable in my punctuation. All i know is that it makes me feel good writing it down and to me that is all that matters. I am going to self publish a book of my poetry in about 6-8 weeks to see if i can make a few quid for bipolar charity and to see if it helps anyone with bipolar to get stuff off there chest.
Harry I really adore this, is it from your new "old" book?...in any case thanks for posting :)Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
Really good one Harry. After watching the wrestling with my son i was shocked to find that you in your spare time are a wrestler and member of a group called De-generation x. You have kept very quiet about that.I found this picture of you at work in your secret identity.http://www.starpulse.com/Athletes/Tr...ry/TRIPLEH001/
Good morning all (a lovely lazy lie in for the freckle this morn!)....lots of lovely slow here still....
The sky is low, the clouds are mean,
A travelling flake of snow
Across a barn or through a rut
Debates if it will go.
A narrow wind complains all day
How some one treated him;
Nature, like us, is sometimes caught
Without her diadem.
Emily Dickinson
PS Triple H...that is some look...ding dong!
An appropiate poet and poem for today:
Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening (Robert Frost)
- Whose woods these are I think I know
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.- My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.- He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.- The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
And miles to go before I sleep.
Couple of nice snow poems to begin the day.
just been for a run the sound of frozen mud crushing underneath your mud claws is the best, I think i might call them mud hammers
Aye there's a verse to be had with those mud hammers of yours neil!...Quote:
Originally Posted by neil wootton
Lovely X Runner, nearly popped this one up myself!Quote:
Originally Posted by XRunner
another lovely one from frost.....
A Patch Of Old Snow
Robert Frost
There's a patch of old snow in a corner
That I should have guessed
Was a blow-away paper the rain
Had brought to rest.
It is speckled with grime as if
Small print overspread it,
The news of a day I've forgotten--
If I ever read it.
It was from The New oxford Book of English Verse 1250- 1950. I think it is lovely.Quote:
Originally Posted by freckle
That's brilliant. Those steroids make some bits bigger and other parts smaller mind you! :eek: I must find a spare pair of socks to stuff down me keks. :DQuote:
Originally Posted by tri-mind
Boom boom!.....:D and ding dong! (again!) ;)Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
You should try baking some Irish freckle bread:)
Some more snowy stuff this time from Philip Larkin
Morning at last:there in the snow
Morning at last: there in the snow
Your small footprints come and go.
Night has left no more to show,
Not the candle, half drunk wine,
Or touching joy; only this sign
Of your life walking into mine.
But when they vanish with the rain
What morning woke to will remain,
Whether as happiness or pain.
Yes...especially as it isQuote:
Originally Posted by XRunner
"tender and slightly sweet, with a light texture and attractive shape..."
not that I am a big fat narcissist like! :) ;)
This is lovely Neil, I have just come back from a very snowy walk with the family...so this was quite fitting! :)Quote:
Originally Posted by neil wootton
Great news......I have found Freckles Home:) which she shares with red-heads.
Oh X runner you have out done yourself tonight!..... I will enjoy perusing this at a later date....thank you...:) :D....i think i may need to see if there is one for you too!:)Quote:
Originally Posted by XRunner
Waiting
by: Edith Willis Linn Forbes (1865-1945)
And thou wert waiting for me all these years!
While I have wept and prayed and laughed in glee:--
A thought most wonderful! Had I known thee,
My prayers had not been needed, and my tears
Had changed to smiles, and all my doubts and fears
Would have been gladness, sadness, ecstasy.
Dear friend, it was not best that this should be.
As one who waits through darkness till he hears
A guiding voice to lead him to the light,
I sat beneath my pain. I would not take
All gladness for that waiting; for the right
Was with me, and I learned to trust, and make
Out of the darkness, glory; and how bright
Thy face was when at last love's dawn did break!
There Was a Moment
by: Prabhath Avadhanula
There was a moment when our hearts met
When our paths merged
In the cover of the sunset.
There was a moment when those flags flew
To split our path
And take me from you.
But there is a world
Where those paths have no name
Where before the Maker
We are the same
And I will wait
And reclaim you there
In that hidden world
That is everywhere.
And there I will claim,
Your hair, your lips,
Your hands, your arms, your fingertips.
And there I will claim
Your eyes, your constant gaze,
Your everything, your everywhere.
And from a distance now I will feel your heart.
I will know your soul,
But stand apart.
With no words I will talk to you.
Without you I will dance with you.
And even in another’s arms
Even with another’s lips
The embrace is mine,
The kiss is mine,
You are mine,
Remember this.
So, perhaps Prabhath and I will keep our fingers crossed, eh!;):)
That's all from me tonight folks and for a whole week (yippee). I'm 'running' off to Norway for some XC Skiing and ducking out of UK Christmas hysteria - I know, I know, I'm a curmudgeonly old git, but sometimes a 'collie' can only take so much. Anyway, I know I can count on my Cyber-Bard-Fellrunning Mates to keep this thread's fires burning so that this toasty, soul nourishing corner will be waiting for my return- so a Merry XXXX to you all.:D:D:D
View from the bottom of the pool.
Through an opaque looking glass things seem different,
The tree an old man with his gnarled bones reaching for me,
Clouds ripple go to and fro but what would they say about this,
This is how i thought it would look shimmering like a star,
I feel it's warm love entering me caressing me inside,
Sol gives me one last kiss and i close my eyes.
By Matt Harmston
Ah mossy two absolutely gorgeous romantic poems......your choices always seem to speak to me!........the thought of ducking out of xmas hysteria would really appeal to me also (if it were not for the little ones!).....have a truly wonderful time and we look forward to hearing all on your return! lots of love xxx:)Quote:
Originally Posted by Mossdog
Freckled Girl
You're my freckled girl,
and I love you.
I'm not sure if you,
feel the same way I do.
I get butterflies,
in your presence.
Each freckle you posses,
captures your beauty essence.
It's bold of me to,
write this song to you.
Because we're just friends,
but girl my love is true.
Hey babe what you see,
is just plain old me.
But just for you girl,
I'll be anybody you want me to be.
Should I wait it out,
let you make the move
I'm feeling all the doubt,
what else can I prove.
Your voice is so sweet,
I wish I could talk to you,
But for now I go,
into exile to be alone
And should I read between the lines,
and look for signals in disguise,
are there enigmatic codes,
that I can't recognize.
Your freckles are the stars,
and your eyes are like jupiter and mars.
You stay close to the sun,
your heavenly face may I never shun.
(Dillon Mckeon)
a fan of robert frost today..and tonight....
Acquainted with the night
R Frost
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
O luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Qzo7...om=PL&index=41
Awwww...ain't that lovely!....thank you for posting :)Quote:
Originally Posted by XRunner
That sounds lovely Mossy. I hope you have a lovely week of skiing.Quote:
Originally Posted by Mossdog
We'll still be here when you get back. Probably slightly less fit, probably slightly heavier, and definately slightly less sober. But with some damn fine poems found and written.
all the best
HHH
I walked out in the night tonight but was greeted with a less than poetic gaudy extravaganza of flashing santas on trains and the such like! :eek:
Lovely poem though.
Quote:
Originally Posted by freckle
Memory
(Part One)
Rossetti
I nursed it in my bosom while it lived,
I hid it in my heart when it was dead;
In joy I sat alone, even so I grieved
Alone and nothing said.
I shut the door to face the naked truth,
I stood alone -- I faced the truth alone,
Stripped bare of self-regard or forms or ruth
Till first and last were shown.
I took the perfect balances and weighed;
No shaking of my hand disturbed the poise;
Weighed, found it wanting: not a word I said,
But silent made my choice.
None know the choice I made; I make it still.
None know the choice I made and broke my heart,
Breaking mine idol: I have braced my will
Once, chosen for once my part.
I broke it at a blow, I laid it cold,
Crushed in my deep heart where it used to live.
My heart dies inch by inch; time grows old,
Grows old in which I grieve.
Matthew Harmston R.I.P.
My cerulean heart longs to wither,
It lost what kept it warm and whole,
A plethora of sins now lie where once there was purity,
It's owner gone forever never to be found,
Replaced by a chemical facsimile of a soul,
Suicide, what would be the point ,
The joke is that everything that was me has gone,
Wisps of dust in the air long forgotten,
I mourn for you my dear young boy.
Matthew Harmston R.I.P 1970-1983.
By Matthew Harmston
intrigued tri mind......:)Quote:
Originally Posted by tri-mind
Morning,
That is lovely. Sometimes all there is left are memories. Like your dreams; keep them alive.
Dream-Pedlary
IF there were dreams to sell,
What would you buy?
Some cost a passing bell;
Some a light sigh,
That shakes from Life's fresh crown
Only a rose-leaf down.
If there were dreams to sell,
Merry and sad to tell,
And the crier rang the bell,
What would you buy?
A cottage lone and still,
With bowers nigh,
Shadowy, my woes to still,
Until I die.
Such pearls from Life's fresh crown
Fain would I shake me down.
Were dreams to have at will,
This would best heal my ill,
This would I buy.
But there were dreams to sell
Ill didst thou buy;
Life is a dream, they tell,
Waking, to die.
Dreaming a dream to prize,
Is wishing ghosts to rise;
And if I had the spell
To call the buried well,
Which one should I?
If there are ghosts to raise,
What shall I call,
Out of hell's murky haze,
Heaven's blue pall?
Raise my loved long-lost boy,
To lead me to his joy.--
There are no ghosts to raise;
Out of death lead no ways;
Vain is the call.
Know'st thou not ghosts to sue,
No love thou hast.
Else lie, as I will do,
And breathe thy last.
So out of Life's fresh crown
Fall like a rose-leaf down.
Thus are the ghosts to woo;
Thus are all dreams made true,
Ever to last!
Thomas Lovell Beddoes
Quote:
Originally Posted by freckle
If thou wilt ease thine heart
IF thou wilt ease thine heart
Of love, and all its smart,--
Then sleep, dear, sleep!
And not a sorrow
Hang any tear on your eyelashes;
Lie still and deep,
Sad soul, until the sea-wave washes
The rim o' the sun to-morrow,
In eastern sky,
But wilt thou cure thine heart
Of love, and all its smart,--
Then die, dear, die!
'T is deeper, sweeter,
Than on a rose bank to lie dreaming
With folded eye;
And then alone, amid the beaming
Of love's stars, thou'lt meet her
In eastern sky.
Thomas Lovell Beddoes
Good morning all! ( I am getting later and later it would seem, need to get my act together!)
HHH what a glorious poem to start the day!...
having just had my breakfast it slooking like i'll have to wait a bit for my run but hoping to get a longish one inbetween kids parties and general chaos!!!hopefully though me and some mud and earth will get to party laters facilitated by my inov 8s!
Have a wonderful day all!
Earth
Derek Walcott
Let the day grow on you upward
through your feet,
the vegetal knuckles,
to your knees of stone,
until by evening you are a black tree;
feel, with evening,
the swifts thicken your hair,
the new moon rising out of your forehead,
and the moonlit veins of silver
running from your armpits
like rivulets under white leaves.
Sleep, as ants cross over your eyelids.
You have never possessed anything
as deeply as this. This is all you have owned
from the first outcry
through forever;
you can never be dispossessed.
When I posted this morning it had only just started snowing. Then by dinner time there was a good 6 inches in the garden. So this afternoon's planned hill reps became downhill races with the sledgers. Great fun. It was the ideal day for anyone wanting to practice their downhilling as it was pretty impossible to hurt yourself. You would have just slid down the hill.
I'll make a haiku out of that after tea.
Quote:
Originally Posted by freckle
Oooooo HHH I look forward to that....Quote:
Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
in the meantime Cole Porter was a bit of poet....and here is my favourite girl singing the words.....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PEM_63_P0CY
Night and Day
Cole Porter
Like the beat, beat, beat of the tomtom,
when the jungle shadows fall.
Like the tick, tick, tock of the stately clock,
as it stands against the wall.
Like the drip, drip, drip of the raindrops,
when the summer shower is through.
So a voice within me
keeps repeating, you, you, you.
Night and day, you are the one.
Only you beneath the moon or under the sun.
Whether near to me or far,
no matter, darling, where you are,
I think of you night and day.
Day and night, why is it so,
that this longing for you follows wherever I go?
In the roaring traffic's boom,
in the silence of my lonely room,
I think of you night and day.
Night and day, under the hide of me,
there's an oh, such a hungry yearning
burning inside of me.
And its torment won't be through
'til you let me spend my life making love to you
day and night, night and day.
now where is that mistletoe?......
Ok OK getting too sentimental...
change of tack....here's a corker!
Lovesong
Ted Hughes
He loved her and she loved him.
His kisses sucked out her whole past and future or tried to
He had no other appetite
She bit him she gnawed him she sucked
She wanted him complete inside her
Safe and sure forever and ever
Their little cries fluttered into the curtains
Her eyes wanted nothing to get away
Her looks nailed down his hands his wrists his elbows
He gripped her hard so that life
Should not drag her from that moment
He wanted all future to cease
He wanted to topple with his arms round her
Off that moment's brink and into nothing
Or everlasting or whatever there was
Her embrace was an immense press
To print him into her bones
His smiles were the garrets of a fairy palace
Where the real world would never come
Her smiles were spider bites
So he would lie still till she felt hungry
His words were occupying armies
Her laughs were an assassin's attempts
His looks were bullets daggers of revenge
His glances were ghosts in the corner with horrible secrets
His whispers were whips and jackboots
Her kisses were lawyers steadily writing
His caresses were the last hooks of a castaway
Her love-tricks were the grinding of locks
And their deep cries crawled over the floors
Like an animal dragging a great trap
His promises were the surgeon's gag
Her promises took the top off his skull
She would get a brooch made of it
His vows pulled out all her sinews
He showed her how to make a love-knot
Her vows put his eyes in formalin
At the back of her secret drawer
Their screams stuck in the wall
Their heads fell apart into sleep like the two halves
Of a lopped melon,but love is hard to stop
In their entwined sleep they exchanged arms and legs
In their dreams their brains took each other hostage
In the morning they wore each other's face