The "discuss your favorite poems" thread (Page 2) (Post deleted by staff )  alleycat09: CROSS My old man's a white old man And my old mother's black If ever i cursed my white ole man I take my curses back If ever I cursed my black ole mother And whished she were in hell I'm sorry for that evil wish and now i wish her well My ole man died in a big fine house My ole mah died in a shack I wonder where im gunna die Being neither white nor black -langston hughes  PralineQueen: Thanks alleycat. I've always liked Langston Hughes. "Dreams," "The Dream Keeper," "Dream Deferred"... Hm, I am sensing a pattern here. Haha, I like "Quiet Girl" as well.  (Post deleted by staff ) alleycat09: thnx 4 the addition...its been a while since ive read him...quiet girl captures so much in saying so little, part of his true talent Nathaniel Nirvana: just one of my faves, an excert from percy shelleys triumph of life Amid the sun, as he amid the blaze Of his own glory, on the vibrating Floor of the fountain, paved with flashing rays, A shape all light, which with one hand did fling Dew on the earth, as if she were the dawn, And the invisible rain did ever sing A silver music on the mossy lawn; And still before me on the dusky grass, Iris her many-coloured scarf had drawn; Nathaniel Nirvana: excert from shelley's music I pant for the music which is divine, My heart in its thirst is a dying flower; Pour forth the sound like enchanted wine, Loosen the notes in a silver shower; Like a herbless plain, for the gentle rain, I gasp, I faint, till they wake again. Nathaniel Nirvana: fragments of rain & wind ~ Shelley The gentleness of rain was in the wind. When soft winds and sunny skies With the green earth harmonize, And the young and dewy dawn, Bold as an unhunted fawn, Up the windless heaven is gone,- Laugh-for ambushed in the day,- Clouds and whirlwinds watch their prey. The rude wind is singing The dirge of the music dead; The cold worms are clinging Where kisses were lately fed. Nathaniel Nirvana: I love all poems by Percy Shelley, and admire his life as he was a campaigner for freedom & freedom of expression. My other fave poems are those of Dante Gabriel Rossetti of pre-raphelite fame, he was a brilliant artist & movement leader. the other Dante was an inspirational genius too, especially with his Divine Comedie. @_Electric Owl_ you haven't really mentioned much about your favourite poems yet, ? PralineQueen: Good ones nathaniel, thank you. I have too many, haha... I'll post one. "Bluebird" by Charles Bukowski there's a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I'm too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I'm not going to let anybody see you. (Post deleted by staff ) (Post deleted by staff ) (Post deleted by staff ) Chairman Meow: XXVI Good creatures, do you love your lives And have you ears for sense? Here is a knife like other knives, That cost me eighteen pence. I need but stick it in my heart And down will come the sky And earth's foundations will depart And all you folk will die. - A.E. Houseman ruemorgueave: I'm digging the Shelley love, Prometheus Unbound is one of my favorites. A favorite couple of quartets from Khayyam's Rubaiyat (yes, the FitzGerald translation, don't give me any grief, purists!) And fear not lest Existence closing your Account, and mine, should know the like no more; The Eternal Saki from that Bowl has pour'd Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour. When You and I behind the Veil are past, Oh, but the long, long while the World shall last, Which of our Coming and Departure heeds As the Sea's self should heed a pebblecast. ruemorgueave: Musee des Beaux Arts - Auden About suffering they were never wrong, The Old Masters; how well they understood its human position; how it takes place While somoene else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along; How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting, For the miraculous birth, there always must be Children who did not especially want it to happen, skating On a pond at the edge of the wood: They never forgot That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's house Stratches its innocent behind on a tree. In Breughel's Icarus, for instance, how everything turns away Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry, But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky, Had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on. ruemorgueave: Not as good as a couple of his others, so I recommend checking out Aubude (and reading on his fascinating dichotomous obsessiosn with the English countryside, religion, and sodomy. This Be the Verse They fuck you up, your mum and dad. They may not mean to, but they do. They fill you with the faults they had And add some extra, just for you. But they were fucked up in their turn By fools in old-style hats and coats, Who half the time were soppy-stern And half at one another's throats. Man hands on misery to man. It deepens like a coastal shelf. Get out as early as you can, And don't have any kids yourself. | poems Chat Room Similar Conversations |
