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  1. #61
    Junior Member
    Join Date
    Sep 2008



    I never saw a wild thing
    sorry for itself.
    A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
    without ever having felt sorry for itself.

    DH Lawrence

  2. #62
    meh Salomé's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2008
    5w4 sx/sp

    Default Keepin' it simple for the Ss...

    Now Let No Charitable Hope
    by- Elinor Wylie - 1885-1928

    Now let no charitable hope
    Confuse my mind with images
    Of eagle and of antelope;
    I am in nature none of these.

    I was, being human, born alone;
    I am, being woman, hard beset;
    I live by squeezing from a stone
    The little nourishment I get.

    In masks outrageous and austere
    The years go by in single file;
    But none has merited my fear,
    And none has quite escaped my smile.



    Edna St Vincent Villay
    Sonnet II

    Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
    Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
    I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
    I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
    The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
    And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;
    But last year's bitter loving must remain
    Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide!

    There are a hundred places where I fear
    To go, -- so with his memory they brim!
    And entering with relief some quiet place
    Where never fell his foot or shone his face
    I say, "There is no memory of him here!"
    And so stand stricken, so remembering him!

    eek! bit feely, that one.
    something upbeat to finish with:

    "High Flight"

    Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
    And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
    Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
    Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
    You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
    High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
    I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
    My eager craft through footless halls of air.
    Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
    I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
    Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
    And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
    The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
    Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

    John Gillespie Magee, Jr.

    cosmic trippin'!
    what's not to like?
    Last edited by Salomé; 10-07-2008 at 08:00 AM.
    Quote Originally Posted by Ivy View Post
    Gosh, the world looks so small from up here on my high horse of menstruation.

  3. #63
    Courage is immortality Valiant's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2007
    8w7 sx/so


    'Can you hear them, Can you see them
    Marching proudly, across the moor
    Hear the wind blow, thru the driftin snow
    Can you see them, the Ghosts of Culloden'

    Scotlands flag was raised, by Loch Sheil
    Our Kings come hame, to claim his crown
    Our Clans rallied round, wi avenging steel;
    But blood will flow now, on Scottish ground

    Men wi honor marched, on the battle field
    Outnumberd 10-1, they fought wi pride
    Hear the swords clash, on blood red shields!
    For Cal-e-donia, they fell and died

    Now raise your glass, to the mighty dead!
    Their ghosts live on, our bloodline true
    The soul of Freedom, has never fled
    Can you feel their heartbeat, inside of you?

    Mightier than the tread of marching armies is the power of an idea whose time has come

  4. #64
    Senior Member animenagai's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2008


    i'm a fan of poetry in general. what drew me to it was probably my NP. i like poems which say a lot through metaphors and such wihtout it being very long. makes them easy to read but impressive nonetheless. here's a classic:

    Love without hope, as when the young bird-catcher
    Swept off his tall hat to the Squire's own daughter,
    So let the imprisoned larks escape and fly
    Singing about her head, as she rode by.

    by robert graves.

    the imagery is just so romantic. beautifully crafted.

  5. #65


    I adore the poems of Ted Hughes.


    She gives him his eyes, she found them
    Among some rubble, among some beetles

    He gives her her skin
    He just seemed to pull it down out of the air and lay it over her
    She weeps with fearfulness and astonishment

    She has found his hands for him, and fitted them freshly at the wrists
    They are amazed at themselves, they go feeling all over her

    He has assembled her spine, he cleaned each piece carefully
    And sets them in perfect order
    A superhuman puzzle but he is inspired
    She leans back twisting this way and that, using it and laughing

    Now she has brought his feet, she is connecting them
    So that his whole body lights up

    And he has fashioned her new hips
    With all fittings complete and with newly wound coils, all shiningly oiled
    He is polishing every part, he himself can hardly believe it

    They keep taking each other to the sun, they find they can easily
    To test each new thing at each new step

    And now she smoothes over him the plates of his skull
    So that the joints are invisible

    And now he connects her throat, her breasts and the pit of her stomach
    With a single wire

    She gives him his teeth, tying the the roots to the centrepin of his body

    He sets the little circlets on her fingertips

    She stitches his body here and there with steely purple silk

    He oils the delicate cogs of her mouth

    She inlays with deep cut scrolls the nape of his neck

    He sinks into place the inside of her thighs

    So, gasping with joy, with cries of wonderment
    Like two gods of mud
    Sprawling in the dirt, but with infinite care
    They bring each other to perfection.

  6. #66
    Obsession. Lethe's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2007
    152 so/sx
    INTp Ni


    Aedh Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven

    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.

    - William Butler Yeats
    "I cannot expect even my own art to provide all of the answers -- only to hope it keeps asking the right questions." -- Grace Hartigan

    Enneagram: Tritype - 1w9, 5 (balanced wings), 2w3; Overall Variant: So/Sx
    SLOAN: rCoa|I|
    Functional Preferences: Ni, Te/Fi, Ti, Se, Fe, Si, Ne

    Quote Originally Posted by OneWithSoul View Post
    Looking into the eyes of a [Ni user] is like peeking through a portal into a parallel universe.

  7. #67
    meh Salomé's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2008
    5w4 sx/sp


    my favourite Yeats

  8. #68
    movin melodies kiddykat's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2008
    4, 7


    Paradox of Our Time

    We have taller buildings, but shorter tempers;
    Wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints;
    We spend more, but have little;
    We buy more and enjoy it less.

    We have bigger houses and smaller families;
    More conveniences, but less time;
    We have more degrees, but less common sense;
    More knowledge, but less judgement;
    More experts, but more problems;
    More medicine, but less wellness.

    We spend too recklessly, laugh too little,
    Drive too fast, get too angry too quickly,
    Stay up too late, get up too tired, Read too seldom,
    Watch TV too much, and dont pray often enough.

    We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values.
    We talk too much, love too seldom and lie too often.
    Weve learned how to make a living, but not a life;
    Weve added years to life, not life to years.

    Weve been all the way to the moon and back,
    But have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor.

    Weve conquered outer space, but not inner space;
    Weve done larger things, but not better things;
    Weve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul;
    Weve split the atom, but not our prejudice;
    We write more, but learn less.

    Weve learned to rush, but not to wait;
    We have higher incomes; but lower morals;
    More food but less appeasement;
    More acquaintances, but fewer friends;
    More effort but less success.

    We build better computers to hold more information,
    Produce more copies than ever, yet have less communication;
    Weve become long on quantity, but short on quality.
    These are the times of fast foods and upset stomachs;
    More kinds of food, but less nutrition.

    These are the times of world peace, but domestic warfare;
    More leisure and less fun;

    These are the days of two incomes, but more divorce;
    Of fancier houses, but broken homes;
    Tall men and short character;
    Steep profits, and shallow relationships.

    These are days of quick trips, throwaway morality,
    One-night stands, and pills that do everything from
    Cheer, to quiet, to kill.

    It is a time when there is much in the show window,
    And nothing in the stockroom.

    Think about it.

    -By Anonymous

    ... I don't know who wrote this, but I find this to be so true for the people who live in my part of town. So true.

  9. #69
    Senior Member ed111's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2008


    From Under Milkwood by Dylan Thomas

    Morning Prayer by Reverend Eli Jenkins


    Dear Gwalia! I know there are
    Towns lovelier than ours,
    And fairer hills and loftier far,
    And groves more full of flowers,

    And boskier woods more blithe with spring
    And bright with birds' adorning,
    And sweeter bards than I to sing
    Their praise this beauteous morning.

    By Cader Idris, tempest-torn,
    Or Moel yr Wyddfa's glory,
    Carnedd Llewelyn beauty born,
    Plinlimmon old in story,

    By mountains where King Arthur dreams,
    By Penmaenmawr defiant,
    Llaregyb Hill a molehill seems,
    A pygmy to a giant.

    By Sawdde, Senny, Dovey, Dee,
    Edw, Eden, Aled, all,
    Taff and Towy broad and free,
    Llyfnant with its waterfall,

    Claerwen, Cleddau, Dulais, Daw,
    Ely, Gwili, Ogwr, Nedd,
    Small is our River Dewi, Lord,
    A baby on a rushy bed.

    By Carreg Cennen, King of time,
    Our Heron Head is only
    A bit of stone with seaweed spread
    Where gulls come to be lonely.

    A tiny dingle is Milk Wood
    By Golden Grove 'neath Grongar,
    But let me choose and oh! I should
    Love all my life and longer

    To stroll among our trees and stray
    In Goosegog Lane, on Donkey Down,
    And hear the Dewi sing all day,
    And never, never leave the town.

  10. #70
    Senior Member Anja's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2008


    Matthew Arnold's "Dover Beach."

    David Gilmour's "On the Turning Away."
    "No ray of sunshine is ever lost, but the green which it awakes into existence needs time to sprout, and it is not always granted to the sower to see the harvest. All work that is worth anything is done in faith." - Albert Schweitzer

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