Your favorite poets...

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InkedAngel
Posts: 6612
Joined: 10 Nov 2011, 06:16

Your favorite poets...

Unread post by InkedAngel »

Into My Own

One of my wishes is that those dark trees, So old and firm they scarcely show the breeze, Were not, as 'twere, the merest mask of gloom, But stretched away unto the edge of doom.

I should not be withheld but that some day Into their vastness I should steal away, Fearless of ever finding open land, Or highway where the slow wheel pours the sand.

I do not see why I should e'er turn back, Or those should not set forth upon my track To overtake me, who should miss me here And long to know if still I held them dear.

They would not find me changed from him the knew--
Only more sure of all I thought was true.

~Robert Frost~


Don't you weep pretty baby...you and me and the devil make three. Don't need no other lovin baby....
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anon
Posts: 11905
Joined: 20 Aug 2009, 10:46

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by anon »

a favorite poem:


The Fly
BY KARL SHAPIRO


O hideous little bat, the size of snot,
With polyhedral eye and shabby clothes,
To populate the stinking cat you walk
The promontory of the dead man’s nose,
Climb with the fine leg of a Duncan-Phyfe
The smoking mountains of my food
And in a comic mood
In mid-air take to bed a wife.

Riding and riding with your filth of hair
On gluey foot or wing, forever coy,
Hot from the compost and green sweet decay,
Sounding your buzzer like an urchin toy—
You dot all whiteness with diminutive stool,
In the tight belly of the dead
Burrow with hungry head
And inlay maggots like a jewel.

At your approach the great horse stomps and paws
Bringing the hurricane of his heavy tail;
Shod in disease you dare to kiss my hand
Which sweeps against you like an angry flail;
Still you return, return, trusting your wing
To draw you from the hunter’s reach
That learns to kill to teach
Disorder to the tinier thing.

My peace is your disaster. For your death
Children like spiders cup their pretty hands
And wives resort to chemistry of war.
In fens of sticky paper and quicksands
You glue yourself to death. Where you are stuck
You struggle hideously and beg,
You amputate your leg
Imbedded in the amber muck.

But I, a man, must swat you with my hate,
Slap you across the air and crush your flight,
Must mangle with my shoe and smear your blood,
Expose your little guts pasty and white,
Knock your head sidewise like a drunkard’s hat,
Pin your wings under like a crow’s,
Tear off your flimsy clothes
And beat you as one beats a rat.

Then like Gargantua I stride among
The corpses strewn like raisins in the dust,
The broken bodies of the narrow dead
That catch the throat with fingers of disgust.
I sweep. One gyrates like a top and falls
And stunned, stone blind, and deaf
Buzzes its frightful F
And dies between three cannibals.

Karl Shapiro, “The Fly” from Selected Poems (New York: Library of America, 2003). Copyright © 2003 by Estate of Karl Shapiro. Reprinted with the permission of Wieser & Elwell, Inc.


Excelsior!
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Blurt
Posts: 38296
Joined: 27 Jul 2011, 20:22

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by Blurt »

Carrion

Darling, do you recall that thing we found
("A lovely summer day!" you said)
That noisome carcass where the path swung round
A sprawling pebble-covered bed.


Its legs raised like a whore's in lubric play,
It burned, oozing rank fetors there,
Shameless and nonchalant, it offered day
Its belly. Poisons filled the air.


The sun beat down on this putrescent mold
As if to fry it to a turn,
To give great Nature back one hundredfold
All she had gathered in her urn.


The skies watched that proud carcass, lax or taut,
Bloom like a flowery mass.
So pungent was the stench, my love, you thought
To swoon away upon the grass.


Horseflies buzzed loud over this putrid belly,
Whence sallied column and battalion
Of sable maggots, flowing like a mucose jelly,
Over this live tatterdemalion.


Waves seemed to rise and fall over this mass,
Spurting with crepitation,
As though this corpse, filled with breaths of gas,
Lived by multiplication.


This world uttered a curious melody,
Like waters, wind, or grains of wheat
That winnowers keep stirring rhythmically
In the broad baskets at their feet.


The forms, fading into a dream, grew fainter;
Here was a sketch of misty tone
On a forgotten canvas which the painter
Completes from memory alone.


Hiding behind the rocks, an anxious bitch
Stood, watching us with angry eye,
Poised to regain the olid morsel which,
Hearing us come, she had laid by.


— Yet shall you be like this ordurous blight,
You, too, shall rot in just such fashion,
Star of my eyes, sun of my soul's delight,
Aye, you, my angel and my passion.


Such you, O queen of graces, in the hours,
When the last sacrament is said,
That bear you under rich sods and Iush flower
To molder with the moldering dead.


Then, O my beauty! Tell such worms as will
Kiss you in ultimate coition
That I have kept the form and essence of
My love in its decomposition.



— Charles Beaudelaire, Flowers of Evil, tr. by Jacques LeClercq, (Mt Vernon, NY: Peter Pauper Press, 1958)


User avatar
anon
Posts: 11905
Joined: 20 Aug 2009, 10:46

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by anon »

^ nice :thumbup: !


Poem from Night of the Iguana

How calmly does the olive branch
Observe the sky begin to blanch
Without a cry, without a prayer
With no betrayal of despair

Some time while light obscures the tree
The zenith of its life will be
Gone past forever
And from thence
A second history will commence

A chronicle no longer gold
A bargaining with mist and mold
And finally the broken stem
The plummeting to earth, and then

An intercourse not well designed
For beings of a golden kind
Whose native green must arch above
The earth's obscene corrupting love

And still the ripe fruit and the branch
Observe the sky begin to blanch
Without a cry, without a prayer
With no betrayal of despair

Oh courage! Could you not as well
Select a second place to dwell
Not only in that golden tree
But in the frightened heart of me


Excelsior!
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InkedAngel
Posts: 6612
Joined: 10 Nov 2011, 06:16

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by InkedAngel »

Great pieces guys...


Don't you weep pretty baby...you and me and the devil make three. Don't need no other lovin baby....
J0E
Posts: 36703
Joined: 11 May 2010, 17:41

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by J0E »



Thirty Foot Trailer
(Ewan MacColl)

The old ways are changing you cannot deny
The day of the traveler is over
There's nowhere to go and there's nowhere to bide
So farewell to the life of the rover

Goodbye to the tent and the old caravan
To the tinker, the gypsy, the traveling man
And goodbye to the thirty foot trailer

Farewell to the cant and the Romany tongue
Farewell to the Romany talking
The buying and the selling, the old fortune telling
The knock on the door and the hawking

Goodbye to the tent and the old caravan
To the tinker, the gypsy, the traveling man
And goodbye to the thirty foot trailer

Farewell to the besoms of heather and bloom
Farewell to the creels and the basket
The folks of today they would far sooner pay
For a thing that's been made out of plastic

Goodbye to the tent and the old caravan
To the tinker, the gypsy, the traveling man
And goodbye to the thirty foot trailer

The old ways are passing and soon will be gone
For progress is aye a big factor
It's sent to afflict us and when they evict us
They'll tow us away with a tractor

Goodbye to the tent and the old caravan
To the tinker, the gypsy, the traveling man
And goodbye to the thirty foot trailer

Farewell to the pony, the cob and the mare
The reins and the harness are idle
You don't need a strap when you're breaking up scrap
So farewell to the bit and the bridle

Goodbye to the tent and the old caravan
To the tinker, the gypsy, the traveling man
And goodbye to the thirty foot trailer

Farewell to the fields where we've sweated and toiled
At pullin' and crownin' and liftin'
They'll soon have machines and the traveling queens
And their menfolk had better be shiftin'

Goodbye to the tent and the old caravan
To the tinker, the gypsy, the traveling man
And goodbye to the thirty foot trailer

You've got to move fast to keep up with the times
For these days a man cannot dander
There's a bylaw to say you must be on your way
And another to say you can't wander

Goodbye to the tent and the old caravan
To the tinker, the gypsy, the traveling man
And goodbye to the thirty foot trailer


J0E
Posts: 36703
Joined: 11 May 2010, 17:41

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by J0E »



For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her
by Simon And Garfunkel

What a dream I had
Pressed in organdy
Clothed in crinoline
Of smoky burgundy
Softer than the rain

I wandered empty streets down
Past the shop displays
I heard cathedral bells
Dripping down the alleyways
As I walked on

And when you ran to me, your
Cheeks flushed with the night
We walked on frosted fields
Of juniper and lamplight
I held your hand

And when I awoke
And felt you warm and near
I kissed your honey hair
With my grateful tears
Oh, I love you girl
Oh, I love you


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InkedAngel
Posts: 6612
Joined: 10 Nov 2011, 06:16

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by InkedAngel »

:thumbup:


Don't you weep pretty baby...you and me and the devil make three. Don't need no other lovin baby....
User avatar
anon
Posts: 11905
Joined: 20 Aug 2009, 10:46

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by anon »

anyone lived in a pretty how town

by e.e. cummings


anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain


Excelsior!
User avatar
InkedAngel
Posts: 6612
Joined: 10 Nov 2011, 06:16

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by InkedAngel »

O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done; The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won; The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring: But O heart! heart! heart! O the bleeding drops of red, Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills; 10 For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding; For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; Here Captain! dear father! This arm beneath your head; It is some dream that on the deck, You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still; My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will; The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done; From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won; 20 Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells! But I, with mournful tread, Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead.

Walt Whitman


Don't you weep pretty baby...you and me and the devil make three. Don't need no other lovin baby....
J0E
Posts: 36703
Joined: 11 May 2010, 17:41

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by J0E »

InkedAngel wrote::thumbup:
...liked that, eh?

Hmmm, I wonder if this qualifies as High Art Poetry.....



Hot Pearl Snatch
by Lux Interiors & Poisoned Ivy

Baby you're a pearl but you're such a tease.
That thing a danglin' there's brought me to my knees.
You parade it 'round town so everybody knows.
Oh Oh I'm-a-gonna steal the show.
Gonna get that thing baby that's a fact.
Baby I'm just talkin' 'bout that hot pearl snatch.
SSo temptin' baby such a pretty box.
All fancy wrappin's and a bow on top.
I try not to think about it but it's hard.
Ya always got it out layin' 'round the yard.
Too hot to handle and a crime at that.
Baby I'm-a-talkin' 'bout that hot pearl snatch.
Gonna get my hatchet hack it off and snatch it.
Jerk it right off o'you.
I gotta get-a-way...baby you can't catch it.
Do a swan dive on that jewel.
Put it in my satchel then I'll lay a patch.
Aw baby I'm just talkin' 'bout that hot pearl snatch.


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Lochdubh
Posts: 54052
Joined: 11 Jan 2011, 11:19

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by Lochdubh »

I heard the old, old men say,
"Everything alters,
And one by one we drop away."
They had hands like claws, and their knees
Were twisted like the old thorn trees
By the waters.
I heard the old, old men say,
"All that's beautiful drifts away
Like the waters."

William Butler Yeats :(


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Lioness
Posts: 1036
Joined: 16 Jun 2015, 13:56
Location: USA
Contact:

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by Lioness »

Between going and staying the day wavers, by Octavio Paz


Between going and staying the day wavers,
in love with its own transparency.
The circular afternoon is now a bay
where the world in stillness rocks.

All is visible and all elusive,
all is near and can't be touched.

Paper, book, pencil, glass,
rest in the shade of their names.

Time throbbing in my temples repeats
the same unchanging syllable of blood.

The light turns the indifferent wall
into a ghostly theater of reflections.

I find myself in the middle of an eye,
watching myself in its blank stare.

The moment scatters. Motionless,
I stay and go: I am a pause.


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Lioness
Posts: 1036
Joined: 16 Jun 2015, 13:56
Location: USA
Contact:

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by Lioness »

If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda
I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine


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Phil O Bat
Posts: 1115
Joined: 22 Jun 2012, 23:07
Location: Seattle
Contact:

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by Phil O Bat »

Not my favourite by one of my favourites. This one I see as very political. It suits so many in politics today.

OZYMANDIAS

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert….Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lips, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
“My name is Ozymandias; King of Kings;
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!”
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.


Percy Bysshe Shelley, 1818


"Fun Fact: Penguins can actually fly

if you throw them hard enough.

Just like children." (Caelan Rondeau) :eviled:
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Lochdubh
Posts: 54052
Joined: 11 Jan 2011, 11:19

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by Lochdubh »

I've liked this since I was a child.



.....each a glimpse; then gone forever.


User avatar
evs
Posts: 102295
Joined: 15 Jun 2012, 14:33

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by evs »

anon wrote:anyone lived in a pretty how town

by e.e. cummings


anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain
so perfect.


~ plaid ~
User avatar
Breakfall
Posts: 5638
Joined: 04 Apr 2016, 00:56

Re: Your favorite poets...

Unread post by Breakfall »

Image

"Horse Latitudes"

When the still sea conspires an armor
And her sullen and aborted
Currents breed tiny monsters
True sailing is dead
Awkward instant
And the first animal is jettisoned
Legs furiously pumping
Their stiff green gallop
And heads bob up
Poise
Delicate
Pause
Consent
In mute nostril agony
Carefully refined
And sealed over.



SCOUSE wrote:You are aware that the Saville account was just a troll alt? I chose that name for shock and trollin' effect, not as a reflection on myself.
If I actually was a p,edo. why the fuck would I draw attention to it by using a known p,do's name???
:(
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