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Thread: Favourite Poems & Poems that moved you

  1. #201
    meinmeinmein! Array mmhmm's Avatar
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    man. i love e e cummings.

    it may not always be so; and i say
    that if your lips, which i have loved, should touch
    another's, and your dear strong fingers clutch
    his heart, as mine in time not far away;
    if on another's face your sweet hair lay
    in such silence as i know, or such
    great writhing words as, uttering overmuch,
    stand helplessly before the spirit at bay;

    if this should be, i say if this should be--
    you of my heart, send me a little word;
    that i may go unto him, and take his hands,
    saying, Accept all happiness from me.
    Then shall i turn my face and hear one bird
    sing terribly afar in the lost lands

    from Tulips and Chimneys (1923)
    every normal man must be tempted, at times,
    to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag,
    and begin slitting throats.
    h.l. mencken

  2. #202
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    William Blake - Auguries of Innocence

    To see a world in a grain of sand,
    And a heaven in a wild flower,
    Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
    And eternity in an hour.

    A robin redbreast in a cage
    Puts all heaven in a rage.

    A dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeons
    Shudders hell thro' all its regions.
    A dog starv'd at his master's gate
    Predicts the ruin of the state.

    A horse misused upon the road
    Calls to heaven for human blood.
    Each outcry of the hunted hare
    A fibre from the brain does tear.

    A skylark wounded in the wing,
    A cherubim does cease to sing.
    The game-cock clipt and arm'd for fight
    Does the rising sun affright.

    Every wolf's and lion's howl
    Raises from hell a human soul.

    The wild deer, wand'ring here and there,
    Keeps the human soul from care.
    The lamb misus'd breeds public strife,
    And yet forgives the butcher's knife.

    The bat that flits at close of eve
    Has left the brain that won't believe.
    The owl that calls upon the night
    Speaks the unbeliever's fright.

    He who shall hurt the little wren
    Shall never be belov'd by men.
    He who the ox to wrath has mov'd
    Shall never be by woman lov'd.

    The wanton boy that kills the fly
    Shall feel the spider's enmity.
    He who torments the chafer's sprite
    Weaves a bower in endless night.

    The caterpillar on the leaf
    Repeats to thee thy mother's grief.
    Kill not the moth nor butterfly,
    For the last judgement draweth nigh.

    He who shall train the horse to war
    Shall never pass the polar bar.
    The beggar's dog and widow's cat,
    Feed them and thou wilt grow fat.

    The gnat that sings his summer's song
    Poison gets from slander's tongue.
    The poison of the snake and newt
    Is the sweat of envy's foot.

    The poison of the honey bee
    Is the artist's jealousy.

    The prince's robes and beggar's rags
    Are toadstools on the miser's bags.
    A truth that's told with bad intent
    Beats all the lies you can invent.

    It is right it should be so;
    Man was made for joy and woe;
    And when this we rightly know,
    Thro' the world we safely go.

    Joy and woe are woven fine,
    A clothing for the soul divine.
    Under every grief and pine
    Runs a joy with silken twine.

    The babe is more than swaddling bands;
    Every farmer understands.
    Every tear from every eye
    Becomes a babe in eternity;

    This is caught by females bright,
    And return'd to its own delight.
    The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar,
    Are waves that beat on heaven's shore.

    The babe that weeps the rod beneath
    Writes revenge in realms of death.
    The beggar's rags, fluttering in air,
    Does to rags the heavens tear.

    The soldier, arm'd with sword and gun,
    Palsied strikes the summer's sun.
    The poor man's farthing is worth more
    Than all the gold on Afric's shore.

    One mite wrung from the lab'rer's hands
    Shall buy and sell the miser's lands;
    Or, if protected from on high,
    Does that whole nation sell and buy.

    He who mocks the infant's faith
    Shall be mock'd in age and death.
    He who shall teach the child to doubt
    The rotting grave shall ne'er get out.

    He who respects the infant's faith
    Triumphs over hell and death.
    The child's toys and the old man's reasons
    Are the fruits of the two seasons.

    The questioner, who sits so sly,
    Shall never know how to reply.
    He who replies to words of doubt
    Doth put the light of knowledge out.

    The strongest poison ever known
    Came from Caesar's laurel crown.
    Nought can deform the human race
    Like to the armour's iron brace.

    When gold and gems adorn the plow,
    To peaceful arts shall envy bow.
    A riddle, or the cricket's cry,
    Is to doubt a fit reply.

    The emmet's inch and eagle's mile
    Make lame philosophy to smile.
    He who doubts from what he sees
    Will ne'er believe, do what you please.

    If the sun and moon should doubt,
    They'd immediately go out.
    To be in a passion you good may do,
    But no good if a passion is in you.

    The whore and gambler, by the state
    Licensed, build that nation's fate.
    The harlot's cry from street to street
    Shall weave old England's winding-sheet.

    The winner's shout, the loser's curse,
    Dance before dead England's hearse.

    Every night and every morn
    Some to misery are born,
    Every morn and every night
    Some are born to sweet delight.

    Some are born to sweet delight,
    Some are born to endless night.

    We are led to believe a lie
    When we see not thro' the eye,
    Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
    When the soul slept in beams of light.

    God appears, and God is light,
    To those poor souls who dwell in night;
    But does a human form display
    To those who dwell in realms of day.

  3. #203
    Member Array Dyoni's Avatar
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    Francine Sterle, 'The Hive'

    It's fairly long, so here's a excerpt with a link:
    The Drunken Boat


    4.
    The day I found
    the plump corpse of a bee
    lying motionless on the window sill,
    I held it in my hand.
    Cradling its velvet-coated body,
    I noticed my own lifeline
    like an arrow underneath it,
    while outside, toiling bees
    crisscrossed in the sun.
    Consider the bee and see how she labours.

  4. #204
    meinmeinmein! Array mmhmm's Avatar
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    i love reading his letters.




    Lord Byron (1807)


    I would I were a careless child,
    Still dwelling in my Highland cave,
    Or roaming through the dusky wild,
    Or bounding o’er the dark blue wave;
    The cumbrous pomp of Saxon pride
    Accords not with the freeborn soul,
    Which loves the mountain’s craggy side,
    And seeks the rocks where billows roll.

    Fortune! take back these cultured lands,
    Take back this name of splendid sound!
    I hate the touch of servile hands,
    I hate the slaves that cringe around.
    Place me among the rocks I love,
    Which sound to Ocean’s wildest roar;
    I ask but this — again to rove
    Through scenes my youth hath known before.

    Few are my years, and yet I feel
    The world was ne’er designed for me:
    Ah! why do dark’ning shades conceal
    The hour when man must cease to be?
    Once I beheld a splendid dream,
    A visionary scene of bliss:
    Truth! — wherefore did thy hated beam
    Awake me to a world like this?

    I loved — but those I love are gone;
    Had friends — my early friends are fled:
    How cheerless feels the heart alone,
    When all its former hopes are dead!
    Though gay companions o’er the bowl
    Dispel awhile the sense of ill;
    Though pleasure stirs the maddening soul,
    The heart — the heart — is lonely still.

    How dull! to hear the voice of those
    Whom rank or chance, whom wealth or power,
    Have made, though neither friends nor foes,
    Associates of the festive hour.
    Give me again a faithful few,
    In years and feelings still the same,
    And I will fly the midnight crew,
    Where boist’rous joy is but a name.

    And woman, lovely woman! thou,
    My hope, my comforter, my all!
    How cold must be my bosom now,
    When e’en thy smiles begin to pall!
    Without a sigh would I resign
    This busy scene of splendid woe,
    To make that calm contentment mine,
    Which virtue know, or seems to know.

    Fain would I fly the haunts of men —
    I seek to shun, not hate mankind;
    My breast requires the sullen glen,
    Whose gloom may suit a darken’d mind.
    Oh! that to me the wings were given
    Which bear the turtle to her nest!
    Then would I cleave the vault of heaven,
    To flee away, and be at rest.
    every normal man must be tempted, at times,
    to spit on his hands, hoist the black flag,
    and begin slitting throats.
    h.l. mencken

  5. #205
    now! in shell form Array INA's Avatar
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    In a Station of the Metro
    by Ezra Pound

    The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
    Petals on a wet, black bough.
    hoarding time and space
    A single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us. To live is to be slowly born.
    — Antoine de Saint-Exupery

  6. #206
    Senior Member Array Jaguar's Avatar
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    Invictus

    Out of the night that covers me
    Black as the Pit from pole to pole
    I thank whatever gods may be
    For my unconquerable soul

    In the fell clutch of circumstance
    I have not winced nor cried aloud
    Under the bludgeonings of chance
    My head is bloody, but unbowed

    Beyond this place of wrath and tears
    Looms but the Horror of the shade
    And yet the menace of the years
    Finds, and shall find, me unafraid

    It matters not how strait the gate
    How charged with punishments the scroll
    I am the master of my fate
    I am the captain of my soul.

    William Ernest Henley

  7. #207
    Senior Member Array You's Avatar
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    [youtube="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZENZnjk7Vfw"]Money[/youtube]

  8. #208
    *hmmms* Array theadoor's Avatar
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    ''Life is vry pain'' by the forum member man

    LIFE IS FULL OF PAIN
    as i sit
    trap in box

    MANY MANS FEEL THE PAIN
    of not be as manly as me

    i sympathize, for i
    once was trap in box
    worry about not be as
    MANLY AS MYSELF

    this is pain of life
    womyn have LUCK
    for they dont feel this pain

    unless they transgender
    man trap in woman body
    THE HORROR

    life is very pain :’(
    Oh yeah?

  9. #209
    *hmmms* Array theadoor's Avatar
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    ''Life is vry pain'' by the forum member man

    LIFE IS FULL OF PAIN
    as i sit
    trap in box

    MANY MANS FEEL THE PAIN
    of not be as manly as me

    i sympathize, for i
    once was trap in box
    worry about not be as
    MANLY AS MYSELF

    this is pain of life
    womyn have LUCK
    for they dont feel this pain

    unless they transgender
    man trap in woman body
    THE HORROR

    life is very pain :’(
    Oh yeah?

  10. #210
    Ghost Monkey Soul Array Vizconde's Avatar
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    The Rose and the Bee

    IF I were a bee and you were a rose,
    Would you let me in when the gray wind blows?
    Would you hold your petals wide apart,
    Would you let me in to find your heart,
    If you were a rose?

    If I were a rose and you were a bee,
    You should never go when you came to me,
    I should hold my love on my heart at last,
    I should close my leaves and keep you fast,
    If you were a bee.

    by Sara Teasdale
    I redact everything I have written or will write on this forum prior to, subsequent with and or after the fact of its writing. For entertainment purposes only and not to be taken seriously nor literally.

    Quote Originally Posted by Edgar View Post
    Spamtar - a strange combination of boorish drunkeness and erudite discussions, or what I call "an Irish academic"

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