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I'll start...
Topic Started: 19 Nov 2008, 02:28 AM (138 Views)
BLOWHARD 19 Nov 2008, 02:28 AM Post #1
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WOW, just thinking of poems and a REAL killer of a poem came to my mind-

Quote:
 
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.


-Yeats

It doesn't get much better!

Please post your favorites here!
Fast and bulbous!
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High Priestess 19 Nov 2008, 09:27 AM Post #2
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I still have to transfer some of my melancholia over.

Thanks, BH, for launching the board! ;)
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Janny 19 Nov 2008, 09:53 AM Post #3
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And I thought I was the only one who loved poetry around here, good to see I'm wrong :D

Here's one that I love (forgot who wrote it, sorry!):
"The sunlight is as passionate as flowers
Bordering the sidewalk of a song.
Clouds shape its golden apertures for hours,
Shifting with each breeze that comes along.
The day becomes a mustard-colored sunbeam
Falling through the window of your smile.
Mystical sensations, headed downstream,
Sit upon your windowsill awhile.
How beautifully the choir of the mountains
Sings to its rapt audience of blue!
As dancing down a corridor of fountains,
We toss in coins and make this wish for you:
Long may you love the loveliness of Earth!
And celebrate with joy your day of birth."

And to embarrass myself, here's something I wrote myself: http://janny-cats.deviantart.com/art/The-Soul-Collector-102480423
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He who fights out of desperation will survive, but he who fights to survive will perish...
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High Priestess 19 Nov 2008, 11:02 AM Post #4
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Nice addition, Janny! :tmb:

Thanks for sharing!
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Ruum Taedor 20 Nov 2008, 02:23 AM Post #5
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I like your Soul Collector poem, Janny. Very nice.
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Janny 20 Nov 2008, 10:28 AM Post #6
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Thanks you two! :D
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He who fights out of desperation will survive, but he who fights to survive will perish...
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BLOWHARD 20 Nov 2008, 08:41 PM Post #7
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I'm not sure if this is really a peom but I think it works like one...and I've always liked it!

Quote:
 
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.

The Tempest, Shakespeare
Fast and bulbous!
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dilwynbach1 23 Dec 2008, 01:06 AM Post #8
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Poet, playwright and children's author Adrian Mitchell has died at the age of 76. In a National Poetry Day poll in 2005, his poem Human Beings was voted the poem that most people would like to see launched into space.

HUMAN BEINGS

Look at your hands
your beautiful useful hands
you’re not an ape
you’re not a parrot
you’re not a slow loris
or a smart missile
you’re human
not british
not american
not israeli
not palestinian
you’re human
not catholic
not protestant
not muslim
not hindu
you’re human
we all start human
we end up human
human first
human last
we’re human
or we’re nothing
nothing but bombs
and poison gas
nothing but guns
and torturers
nothing but slaves
of Greed and War
if we’re not human
look at your body
with its amazing systems
of nerve-wires and blood canals
think about your mind
which can think about itself
and the whole universe
look at your face
which can freeze into horror
or melt into love
look at all that life
all that beauty
you’re human
they are human
we are human
let’s try to be human
dance!
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Ruum Taedor 23 Dec 2008, 02:40 AM Post #9
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I love the message of that poem, Dil.
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Sig226 2 Jan 2009, 10:28 PM Post #10
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in light of current events this seems.........well...it's Kipling.

'When you're wounded and lying on Afghanistans plains,
and the women come out to cut up what remains,
just roll to your rifle and blow out your brains,
and go to your god like a soldier'
We are the Pilgrims, Master
We shall go always a little further,
It may be beyond the last blue mountain barred with snow,
Across that angry or glimmering sea …

(from the 'Golden Road to Samarkand' )

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