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Favourite Poems & Poems that moved you

magpie

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All the birds have flown up and gone;
A lonely cloud floats leisurely by.
We never tire of looking at each other -
Only the mountain and I.

The birds have vanished down the sky.
Now the last cloud drains away.
We sit together, the mountain and me,
until only the mountain remains.

- Li Bai
 

Galena

Silver and Lead
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Mar 12, 2013
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My taste in poetry is more scant than my taste in books, but it's similar. More to come.

 

cosmic royal

Phoenix Flame
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Sonnet XVII

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Pablo Neruda
 

senza tema

nunc rosa cras fex
Joined
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13092081_1011943598842962_7744192994551209062_n.jpg
 

magpie

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Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have's mine own,
Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,
I must be here confined by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got
And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island by your spell;
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands:
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
Let your indulgence set me free.


- The Tempest
 

Gamine

in-game
Joined
Nov 2, 2008
Messages
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It's no use Mother dear,
I cannot finish my weaving
You may blame Aphrodite

soft as she is

she has almost
killed me with
love for that boy

- Sappho
 

cosmic royal

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Resumé

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

Dorothy Parker

Man, and reading her poetry is awakening my inspiration. :D
 

magpie

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Resumé

Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.

Dorothy Parker

Man, and reading her poetry is awakening my inspiration. :D

I love Dorothy Parker. Have you read any of her stories too?
 

magpie

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Its effort is vain,
the darkness of the spring night:
true, we cannot see
the color of the blossoms -
but how can it hide their scent?

- Oshikochi no Mitsune
 

cosmic royal

Phoenix Flame
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Mad Girl's Love Song

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

Sylvia Plath
 

EJCC

The Devil of TypoC
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We trap God
hang Him
in stained glass,
entrance Him
by organ music
and chorus

We bind Him
by ritual,
tickle Him
by prayers
and train Him
to become our pet.

And we freely
make Him
take off
our guilt
of exploiting
too much,

Of having
too much,
of wasting
too much,
of living
too comfortably
Once the desert God,
jealous
and wild;
now an amulet
on a charm
bracelet

- Yorifumi Yaguchi
 

magpie

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The Cyborg

By our mythic time, we are
chimeras,
hybrids,
and cyborgs.
The cyborg is
our politics. The cyborg is a condensed image of both
transformation
and tradition;
appropriation of nature as
culture; the tradition
the reflections

– the relations between
The stakes in the border war
and imagination.
This is an argument for pleasure
and responsibility in construction.
It is also an effort to
imagining a world without
genesis,
a world without
salvation.
Nor does it mark
attempting to heal
the most terrible and the most promising monsters
embodied in
our survival.
a creature in a world; has no sexuality, symbiosis, or other seductions through a final
unity.

In a sense, no origin story
is
an ultimate self untied, a man in
space.
the myth of fullness and terror,
represented by the mother
of history, the twin
myths inscribed
in their concept of labour and gender,
which difference and drama of
Escalating domination.
The cyborg skips the steps.
This is its
teleology as star.
The cyborg is
perversity. It is Utopian, and
innocence. No longer
private, the cyborg defines a revolution of
nature reworked; no longer
the resource for appropriation by the other. The
relationships whole from parts, including domination in the
world. Unlike the monster,
a restoration of the
garden; that is, the fabrication it’s completion, a city and cosmos.
The cyborg does not dream
this time.
The cyborg
The Garden of Eden; it is made of mud.

- Cecilie K
 
Joined
Apr 24, 2016
Messages
1,659
Dreams

Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream!
My spirit not awakening, till the beam
Of an Eternity should bring the morrow.
Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow,
'Twere better than the cold reality
Of waking life, to him whose heart must be,
And hath been still, upon the lovely earth,
A chaos of deep passion, from his birth.
But should it be- that dream eternally
Continuing- as dreams have been to me
In my young boyhood- should it thus be given,
'Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven.
For I have revell'd, when the sun was bright
I' the summer sky, in dreams of living light
And loveliness,- have left my very heart
In climes of my imagining, apart
From mine own home, with beings that have been
Of mine own thought- what more could I have seen?

'Twas once- and only once- and the wild hour
From my remembrance shall not pass- some power
Or spell had bound me- 'twas the chilly wind
Came o'er me in the night, and left behind
Its image on my spirit- or the moon
Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon
Too coldly- or the stars- howe'er it was
That dream was as that night-wind- let it pass.
I have been happy, tho' in a dream.
I have been happy- and I love the theme:
Dreams! in their vivid coloring of life,
As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife
Of semblance with reality, which brings
To the delirious eye, more lovely things
Of Paradise and Love- and all our own!
Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.

- Edgar Allen Poe
 

EJCC

The Devil of TypoC
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Gather up
In the arms of your pity
The sick, the depraved,
The desperate, the tired,
All the scum
Of our weary city.

Gather up
In the arms of your pity.
Gather up
In the arms of your love—
Those who expect
No love from above.


- "Prayer (2)", by Langston Hughes
 

Obfuscate

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Alone With Everybody
bukowski

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.
 

Kilgore Trout

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Jul 4, 2016
Messages
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To what shall
I liken the world?
Moonlight, reflected
In dewdrops,
Shaken from a crane’s bill.

Dogen Zenji
 

cosmic royal

Phoenix Flame
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Mad Girl's Love Song

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

Sylvia Plath

I ended up copying and pasting two extra verses. My mistake. Here's the correct version:

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
 
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