Today's poet

[Hes]

I love the Mary Oliver choices! I haven't been on here for a while but its been good to catch up tonight.

[Hes]

The Door

I sit in the garden
taking the late sun
as it sinks and slides
between the side
of the house
and the hawthorn.
Trailing the bench
across the lawn
to catch a final
finger of warmth,
a golden stretch
comes to rest
on a patch
of grass at my feet
— like a door.
A door in which
I wait for your
shadow to darken;
the door, which is
always left open.

Adam Wyeth

[freckle]

Beautiful choices Alf and Hes...thankyou and well done hes on langdale! inspirational given your recent injury- you must be made of strong stuff!

Tonight I am in the mood for charles bukowksi..one of those days!

How Is Your Heart? by Charles Bukowski

during my worst times
on the park benches
in the jails
or living with
whores
I always had this certain
contentment-
I wouldn't call it
happiness-
it was more of an inner
balance
that settled for
whatever was occuring
and it helped in the
factories
and when relationships
went wrong
with the
girls.
it helped
through the
wars and the
hangovers
the backalley fights
the
hospitals.
to awaken in a cheap room
in a strange city and
pull up the shade-
this was the craziest kind of
contentment

and to walk across the floor
to an old dresser with a
cracked mirror-
see myself, ugly,
grinning at it all.
what matters most is
how well you
walk through the
fire.

[stevefoster]

D.H. Lawrence for me tonight, and bit of G.I. Jane.



"I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself"

[freckle]

nice one steve :thumbup:

[Stevie]

Just came upon this on another thread. Link posted below, and also the poem, to save you actually having to look at Norbert Nocurry's avatar...

http://forum.fellrunner.org.uk/showt...ial-club/page4

I'll tell you now and I'll tell you firmly
I don't never want to go to Burnley
What they do there don't concern me
Why would anybody make the journey?
I'll tell you know and I'll tell you flatly
I don't never want to go to Gatley
I don't even want to go to Batley
Where is that place exactly

Do I wanna to go to Redditch?
I wouldn't visit in a souped-up sheddish
what am I some kind of Nebbish?
No I don't want to go to Reddish

I'll tell you now and I'll tell you briefley
I don't never want to go to Keighley
I'll tell you now, just like I told Elsa Lanchester...
I don't ever want to go to... Cumbernauld

John Cooper Clarke

[Alf]

Just came upon this on another thread. Link posted below, and also the poem, to save you actually having to look at Norbert Nocurry's avatar...

http://forum.fellrunner.org.uk/showt...ial-club/page4

I'll tell you now and I'll tell you firmly
I don't never want to go to Burnley
What they do there don't concern me
Why would anybody make the journey?
I'll tell you know and I'll tell you flatly
I don't never want to go to Gatley
I don't even want to go to Batley
Where is that place exactly

Do I wanna to go to Redditch?
I wouldn't visit in a souped-up sheddish
what am I some kind of Nebbish?
No I don't want to go to Reddish

I'll tell you now and I'll tell you briefley
I don't never want to go to Keighley
I'll tell you now, just like I told Elsa Lanchester...
I don't ever want to go to... Cumbernauld

John Cooper Clarke

I have seen the avatar

[Alf]

D.H. Lawrence for me tonight, and bit of G.I. Jane.



"I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself"

I know the film G.I. Jane took a bit of stick but I liked it and Demi Moore rocked :thumbup:

[Alf]

Beautiful choices Alf and Hes...thankyou and well done hes on langdale! inspirational given your recent injury- you must be made of strong stuff!

Tonight I am in the mood for charles bukowksi..one of those days!

How Is Your Heart? by Charles Bukowski

during my worst times
on the park benches
in the jails
or living with
whores
I always had this certain
contentment-
I wouldn't call it
happiness-
it was more of an inner
balance
that settled for
whatever was occuring
and it helped in the
factories
and when relationships
went wrong
with the
girls.
it helped
through the
wars and the
hangovers
the backalley fights
the
hospitals.
to awaken in a cheap room
in a strange city and
pull up the shade-
this was the craziest kind of
contentment

and to walk across the floor
to an old dresser with a
cracked mirror-
see myself, ugly,
grinning at it all.
what matters most is
how well you
walk through the
fire.

He's great Bukowski He is the poetic equivalent of Raymond Chandler.

[Alf]

The Door

I sit in the garden
taking the late sun
as it sinks and slides
between the side
of the house
and the hawthorn.
Trailing the bench
across the lawn
to catch a final
finger of warmth,
a golden stretch
comes to rest
on a patch
of grass at my feet
— like a door.
A door in which
I wait for your
shadow to darken;
the door, which is
always left open.

Adam Wyeth

Gorgeous poem that Hes and well done at Langdale