Our favourite poems.

[scoundrel]

Originally Posted by fleetwood77

"Whoo ,whoo" - Poetry? Well it rhymes I suppose...

Poetry and song and close cousins. A pure poem is capable of standing alone. A song lyric often can stand alone as a poem but gains strength from the music to which it was set.

Song lyrics are also kindly welcome on this thread.

[scoundrel]

Originally Posted by anklebiter

Nice.
La Triviata

[Bishop Beesley]

"Into my heart an air that kills,
From yon far country blows.

What are those blue remembered hills?
What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain.

The happy highways where I went,
And cannot come again."

Quoted at the end of Walkabout and used by Dennis Potter for the title of one of his plays, an extract from "A Shropshire Lad" by A.E.Houseman. A very melancholy poem about the inability to recapture lost youth.

[tabler]

My heart ache's
And a drowsy numbness pains my sence
As though of hemlock I have drunk
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains,

From 'Ode to a Nightingale' drummed into me from O level English

Ps- You bugger scoundrel, you wait untill I'm working away and go and start a decent thread.

[scoundrel]

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.

I like this poem a lot. It encapsulates the hope and the pain of daring to love another person. There is no shame in having only your dreams when dreams can be so beautifully expressed.

Sorry tabler. I'm a real slyboots.

[slowdiver]

A "prose poem" according to wiki, my dad always loved "Desiderata" by Max Ehrmann. I liked the text when I first read it, but since his passing, I like to treat the words as advice that dad may have given had he still been alive (he died in 1993, aged 58)

While seeming hopelessly out of date in these modern times, I think the sentiments it conveys are now needed probably more than ever.

"
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy."

[avidfan]

a couple of my faves from different ends of the spectrum...

Wilfred Owen

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 disappointed shells that dropped 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,
Obscene as cancer, 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.

now...

robert burns, the bookworms

THROUGH and through th’ inspir’d leaves,
Ye maggots, make your windings;
But O respect his lordship’s taste,
And spare his golden bindings.

now by anon...

birdie birdie on the 'sill,
with your pretty yellow bill,
first i feed you a crust of bread,
then i kick your fucking head!

[tabler]

Superb my friend.....well done all of you, this is what you call a thread!

Now did I tell you about my favourite porn stars hairstyle

[charliedog]

The Boundlessness of Being in Love (by me)

[scoundrel]

An original poem, charliedog. Its a warm and touching one as well. I really enjoyed reading it and want to thank you for posting it.

You have a gift.