Today's poet

[Nathaniel Lee]

Fantastic everyone really enjoying them.

[Harry H Howgill]

Fantastic everyone really enjoying them.

Tri,

To go with your newly started mental illness thread...

With only seven thoughts,
Held in the conscious.
Make each of them your next seven steps.
Keep the doors closed to all others.

[Multiterrainer]

hi tri mind....

poetry hunter.com has a lot by siegfried sassoon who has been posted by myself b4 on this thread if you trawl back there are others like wilfred owen etc i'll try and find a good one .....

Wilfred Owen's most famous:

Dulce et decorum est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs,
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots,
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame, all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys! - An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time,
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime. -
Dim through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams before my helpless sight
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams, you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, -
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

[Hes]

These are about a run I did in the Black Mountains a couple of weeks ago. I just tried to capture some of the moments that made an impression on me.

Cold and wet start I
Need the heat of the first climb
Crug Mawr beckons me

The path down is lost
But wait, a small pile of stones
Marks the faintest track

Panicked at my sight
Manes shake loose a crystal spray
Mountain horses flee

Brown water river
Fallen leaves hide the valley
Above: stones and wind

Everlasting clag
Pen Cerrig Calch towering
Tears the sky for me

Pinned to the trig point
Upright in the howling wind
Mountain sanctuary

Wow...I really love some of these and you have totally captured the feel of a good fell run. The one about the horses is gorgeous!

[Hes]

Are you sure that's a good idea? It all depends how "romantic" it is. Might be a bit of an eye-opener!

Don't worry HHH, it is all about what would happen if Neruda's love were to forget him and he counters her saying that he would forget her too but all the meanwhile he is declaring how she draws him to her, how his heart is rooted by his love for her etc etc (something like that) definitely no erotica or naughtiness!

[Harry H Howgill]

Don't worry HHH, it is all about what would happen if Neruda's love were to forget him and he counters her saying that he would forget her too but all the meanwhile he is declaring how she draws him to her, how his heart is rooted by his love for her etc etc (something like that) definitely no erotica or naughtiness!

Damn!

[freckle]

As usual X runner I adore your choice of poetry....bravo!

Rupert Brookes 'The Soldier'

If I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven

[Harry H Howgill]

Don't worry HHH, it is all about what would happen if Neruda's love were to forget him and he counters her saying that he would forget her too but all the meanwhile he is declaring how she draws him to her, how his heart is rooted by his love for her etc etc (something like that) definitely no erotica or naughtiness!

There is a line in a song somewhere (possibly by the Waterboys) which I've never forgotten which goes:

"I will always be your friend for as long as you'll be mine"

[Mossdog]

There is a line in a song somewhere (possibly by the Waterboys) which I've never forgotten which goes:

"I will always be your friend for as long as you'll be mine"

On a not too dissimilar theme - here's one to savour...


‘I love you with my life – ’tis so I love you’

I love you with my life – ’tis so I love you;
I give you as a ring
The cycle of my days till death:
I worship with the breath
That keeps me in the world with you and spring:
And God may dwell behind, but not above you.

Mine, in the dark, before the world’s beginning:
The claim of every sense,
Secret and source of every need;
The goal to which I speed,
And at my heart a vigour more immense
Than will itself to urge me to its winning.

Michael Field

Now doesn't that warm ya heart?

[Harry H Howgill]

On a not too dissimilar theme - here's one to savour...


‘I love you with my life – ’tis so I love you’

I love you with my life – ’tis so I love you;
I give you as a ring
The cycle of my days till death:
I worship with the breath
That keeps me in the world with you and spring:
And God may dwell behind, but not above you.

Mine, in the dark, before the world’s beginning:
The claim of every sense,
Secret and source of every need;
The goal to which I speed,
And at my heart a vigour more immense
Than will itself to urge me to its winning.

Michael Field

Now doesn't that warm ya heart?

Certainly does. I can even agree with the religous references for once, and put an atheist spin on it. God is well and truly behind and not above.