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Thread: Favourite Poems & Poems that moved you

  1. #331

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    I consider this a poem. And good lord is it a good one:


  2. #332
    Just a note... Array LittleV's Avatar
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    My sister told me to read her favorite poetry book:

    Before I fell
    in love with words,
    with setting skies
    and singing birds–
    it was you I fell
    in love with first.

  3. #333

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    Bluebird. 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.
    there's a bluebird in my heart that
    wants to get out
    but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
    cigarette smoke
    and the ****s and the bartenders
    and the grocery clerks
    never know that
    he's
    in there.

    there's a bluebird in my heart that
    wants to get out
    but I'm too tough for him,
    I say,
    stay down, do you want to mess
    me up?
    you want to screw up the
    works?
    you want to blow my book sales in
    Europe?
    there's a bluebird in my heart that
    wants to get out
    but I'm too clever, I only let him out
    at night sometimes
    when everybody's asleep.
    I say, I know that you're there,
    so don't be
    sad.
    then I put him back,
    but he's singing a little
    in there, I haven't quite let him
    die
    and we sleep together like
    that
    with our
    secret pact
    and it's nice enough to
    make a man
    weep, but I don't
    weep, do
    you?
    Likes ESFJ liked this post

  4. #334
    Healer-in-Training Array Morning Star's Avatar
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    One of my all-time favorites (and my brother's):

    Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

    Whose woods these are I think I know.
    His house is in the village, though;
    He will not see me stopping here
    To watch his woods fill up with snow.

    My little horse must think it queer
    To stop without a farmhouse near
    Between the woods and frozen lake
    The darkest evening of the year.

    He gives his harness bells a shake
    To ask if there is some mistake.
    The only other sound's the sweep
    Of easy wind and downy flake.

    The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
    But I have promises to keep,
    And miles to go before I sleep,
    And miles to go before I sleep.

    ~Robert Frost
    Only she who attempts the absurd can achieve the impossible... and then some.

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  5. #335

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    Hurt and pain.
    There's much to gain.
    Peace and love.
    It's all the same.
    Confusion and doubt.
    We're not without.
    We weep, we cry.
    We plead, we try.
    We laugh, we smile.

  6. #336
    To here knows when... Array Odi et Amo's Avatar
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    Though I know indeed
    That the night will come again
    After day has dawned,
    Still, in truth, I hate the sight
    Of the morning's coming light.
    Solitude
    Comes just as it goes
    Goes as just its umbra
    Comes


    “Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.”
    ― Albert Camus

    4w5/5w4/1w2, Neutral Good, RlxAI

  7. #337
    Junior Member Array Eumeswilian's Avatar
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    THE TYGER (from Songs Of Experience)

    By William Blake

    Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
    In the forests of the night,
    What immortal hand or eye
    Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

    In what distant deeps or skies
    Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
    On what wings dare he aspire?
    What the hand dare sieze the fire?

    And what shoulder, & what art.
    Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
    And when thy heart began to beat,
    What dread hand? & what dread feet?

    What the hammer? what the chain?
    In what furnace was thy brain?
    What the anvil? what dread grasp
    Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

    When the stars threw down their spears,
    And watered heaven with their tears,
    Did he smile his work to see?
    Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

    Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
    In the forests of the night,
    What immortal hand or eye
    Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

    1794

    This reading and video interpretation was especially moving: http://vimeo.com/7717236
    “Perfect purity is possible if you turn your life into a line of poetry written with a splash of blood.” - Yukio Mishima

  8. #338
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    Perhaps it is the NF in me...but I feel ill at ease that we do not have a Love Poetry thread *sigh*
    but...this will do. I don't know what to think of Valentine's Day anymore. It seems more and more people are angered by it...depressed by it.
    I want more days for Love but...
    Here's one of my favorite Valentine's poems. Buon San Valentino.


    Sonnet CXXX
    My Mistress' Eyes are Nothing like the Sun - William Shakespeare


    My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
    Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
    If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
    If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
    I have seen roses damasked, red and white,
    But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
    And in some perfumes is there more delight
    Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
    I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
    That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
    I grant I never saw a goddess go;
    My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
    And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
    As any she belied with false compare.
    Through every forest, above the trees
    Within my stomach, scraped off my knees
    I drink the honey inside your hive
    You are the reason I stay alive

  9. #340
    Senior Member Array Noon's Avatar
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    Mysticism
    by Farid ud-Din Attar

    The sun can only be seen by the light
    of the sun. The more a man or woman knows,
    the greater the bewilderment, the closer
    to the sun the more dazzled, until a point
    is reached where one no longer is.

    A mystic knows without knowledge, without
    intuition or information, without contemplation
    or description or revelation. Mystics
    are not themselves. They do not exist
    in selves. They move as they are moved,
    talk as words come, see with sight
    that enters their eyes. I met a woman
    once and asked her where love had led her.
    "Fool, there's no destination to arrive at.
    Loved one and lover and love are infinite."

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