Today's poet

[freckle]

Well forumites...I would go out tonight but I haven't got a stitch to wear!

A Charming man
The Smiths

A punctured bicycle
On a hillside desolate
Will nature make a man of me yet ?

When in this charming car
This charming man


Why pamper life's complexity
When the leather runs smooth
On the passenger seat ?


I would go out tonight
But I haven't got a stitch to wear
This man said "It's gruesome that someone so handsome should care"


A jumped up pantry boy
Who never knew his place
He said "return the ring"
He knows so much about these things
He knows so much about these things


I would go out tonight
But I haven't got a stitch to wear
This man said "It's gruesome that someone so handsome should care"
Na, na-na, na-na, na-na, this charming man ...
Na, na-na, na-na, na-na, this charming man ...


A jumped up pantry boy
Who never knew his place
He said "return the ring"
He knows so much about these things
He knows so much about these things
He knows so much about these things


New York version adds :

I would go out tonight
But I haven't got a stitch to wear


I would go out tonight
But I haven't got a stitch to wear
Oh, la-la, la-la, la-la, this charming man ...
Oh, la-la, la-la, la-la, this charming man ...


A jumped up pantry boy
Who never knew his place
He said "return the ring"
He knows so much about these things
He knows so much about these things
He knows so much about these things


Here is Simon Armitage's analysis of the song....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j3Hn6wWjTZc

[Derby Tup]

freckle, have a look on youtube for the Smiths on Old Grey Whistle Test in Derby live in 1983. I think Reel around fhe fountain is on. I was there; t' was a bit good

[Mossdog]

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair

Pablo Neruda

Don't go far off, not even for a day
Don't go far off, not even for a day,
Because I don't know how to say it - a day is long
And I will be waiting for you, as in
An empty station when the trains are
Parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then
The little drops of anguish will all run together,
The smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
Into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve
On the beach, may your eyelids never flutter
Into the empty distance. Don't LEAVE me for
A second, my dearest, because in that moment you'll
Have gone so far I'll wander mazily
Over all the earth, asking, will you
Come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

[freckle]

freckle, have a look on youtube for the Smiths on Old Grey Whistle Test in Derby live in 1983. I think Reel around fhe fountain is on. I was there; t' was a bit good

you mean this?..................ooooo it does look good!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dfvGb...ext=1&index=37

particularly like the lyric...."People said you were vertually dead and they were so wrong"......lush, lush, lush!....very poetic!

[freckle]

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair

Pablo Neruda

Don't go far off, not even for a day
Don't go far off, not even for a day,
Because I don't know how to say it - a day is long
And I will be waiting for you, as in
An empty station when the trains are
Parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because then
The little drops of anguish will all run together,
The smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
Into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve
On the beach, may your eyelids never flutter
Into the empty distance. Don't LEAVE me for
A second, my dearest, because in that moment you'll
Have gone so far I'll wander mazily
Over all the earth, asking, will you
Come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

Beautiful Mossy.........one of my fave's ) x

[freckle]

I understand that this is a traditional chinese poem sometimes read out at weddings...........................................

Plucking the Rushes -
Anonymous

A boy and a girl are sent to gather rushes for thatching
Green rushes with red shoots,
Long leaves bending to the wind –
You and I in the same boat
Plucking rushes at the Five Lakes.
We started at dawn from the orchid-island:
We rested under elms till noon.
You and I plucking rushes
Had not plucked a handful when night came!

[Alf]

Well after reading through the Keats poem that Mossy posted I found myself googling what a "kirtle" was that fell to her feet ? And now I know

Here is a sonnet from the eldest son of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Long time a child

LONG time a child, and still a child, when years
Had painted manhood on my cheek, was I, —
For yet I lived like one not born to die;
A thriftless prodigal of smiles and tears,
No hope I needed, and I knew no fears.
But sleep, though sweet, is only sleep, and waking,
I waked to sleep no more, at once o'ertaking
The vanguard of my age, with all arrears
Of duty on my back. Nor child, nor man,
Nor youth, nor sage, I find my head is gray,
For I have lost the race I never ran:
A rathe December blights my lagging May;
And still I am a child, though I be old,
Time is by debtor for by years untold.

Hartley Coleridge

[freckle]

Well after reading through the Keats poem that Mossy posted I found myself googling what a "kirtle" was that fell to her feet ? And now I know

Here is a sonnet from the eldest son of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Long time a child

LONG time a child, and still a child, when years
Had painted manhood on my cheek, was I, —
For yet I lived like one not born to die;
A thriftless prodigal of smiles and tears,
No hope I needed, and I knew no fears.
But sleep, though sweet, is only sleep, and waking,
I waked to sleep no more, at once o'ertaking
The vanguard of my age, with all arrears
Of duty on my back. Nor child, nor man,
Nor youth, nor sage, I find my head is gray,
For I have lost the race I never ran:
A rathe December blights my lagging May;
And still I am a child, though I be old,
Time is by debtor for by years untold.

Hartley Coleridge

This is astonishingly beautifyul alf thank you....it made me ponder the question "do we ever really grow up?" and if so "when?"........Mmmm food for thought :-)

[freckle]

The Sunlight on the Garden

The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold;
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.

Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.

The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying

And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.

Louis Macneice

[Duncan R]

I loved that "Long time a child", it made me shift perspectives in terms of my asssumptions about other 'grown ups' and the way we can all view the world, lovely, thanks Alf.

So here is a poem my daughter Ana, age 7, wrote yesterday & delivered to my wife & I, somewhat earlier on a Sunday morning than we would have prefered!

In the Winter

In the winter I hear the screaming of the children
I hear the snow creaking
I hear rustling of the trees
I smell the turkey
I hear the music playing
I hear the laughing of parents
I smell the flowers
I hear the birds tweeting...

I checked out the "screaming of the children" bit & she said they were playing snowballs, ah the innocence!