#65296
04/22/2002 8:07 PM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296 |
Verse for a Certain Dog
Dorothy Parker
Such glorious faith as fills your limpid eyes,
Dear little friend of mine, I never knew.
All-innocent are you, and yet all-wise.
(For Heaven's sake, stop worrying that shoe!)
You look about, and all you see is fair;
This mighty globe was made for you alone.
Of all the thunderous ages, you're the heir.
(Get off the pillow with that dirty bone!)
A skeptic world you face with steady gaze;
High in young pride you hold your noble head,
Gayly you meet the rush of roaring days.
(Must you eat puppy biscuit on the bed?)
Lancelike your courage, gleaming swift and strong,
Yours the white rapture of a winged soul,
Yours is a spirit like a Mayday song.
(God help you, if you break the goldfish bowl!)
"Whatever is, is good" - your gracious creed.
You wear your joy of living like a crown.
Love lights your simplest act, your every deed.
(Drop it, I tell you- put that kitten down!)
You are God's kindliest gift of all - a friend.
Your shining loyalty unflecked by doubt,
You ask but leave to follow to the end.
(Couldn't you wait until I took you out?)
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#65297
04/23/2002 12:38 AM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872
old hand
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old hand
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872 |
BAST
She had green eyes, that excellent seer
And little peaks to either ear.
She sat there, and I sat here.
She spoke of Egypt, and a white
Temple, against enormous night.
She smiled with clicking teeth and said
That the dead were never dead:
Said old emperors hung like bats
In barns at night, or ran like rats -
But Empresses came back as cats!
William Rose Benil
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#65298
04/23/2002 12:49 AM
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Joined: Dec 2000
Posts: 1,055
old hand
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old hand
Joined: Dec 2000
Posts: 1,055 |
Considering it's US Poetry Month I offer this:
Quality Control
by J5
Zaakir's the name, the aka soupa, the verbal acupuncture from ya dope old schoola,
I used to be the brother for others they used to dumb on,
Now they be the lovers of brothers, they can't front on
Put me in the mix, lp 12", sp, the elegant poetic pestilence
I'm carbonated, plus anti-confederated, highly commemorated and the most celebrated
For connecting it, word, verb subject to the predicate
Plus I got the etiquette, to keep it moving and show my cats how it's done
Cause it's the verbal compact position #1
We keep it beaming like a beacon, if it's lyrics that you're seeking.
Whether black or Puerto Rican people back us when we speaking
We got the kind of rhymes to get you ready for the weekend,
To the mass amount of legions that came for party pleasing
our tempeture is freezing, all kind of different regions
The rhythm is the reason your checking for what we've done
Please son, our thesis, 'll rip your crew in pieces
Your rhymes ain't ripe homeboy you ain't in season
Ayo my quality control, captivates your mind, body and soul
For who the bell tolls, let the rhythm explode
Big bad and bold b-boys of old
We'll it's the angelic man relic clan repellant,
My transparent manuscripts withstand bullets
Flashing like a Japan tourist we command pure hits
While you cramming to understand these contraband lyrics
My fam summits to pray 5 times a day, climbing into your mind with live rhyme display
j5 finds a way to remain supreme
Coming verbally harder son as if my name was Kadeem.
Hey yo my team dream works, without Spielbergs I spill words
communicate from the earth throughout the universe
I transmit, transcripts transcontinental, lyrics deeply rooted in your spirit
I love the power of words, nouns and verbs, the pen and the sword, linguistic on'award,
No folklore's or myths in my penmanship, the path of scholar warriors is what I present
Verbally decapitating those against us,
Jihah'fasibili'lah, my words make sense
You gots to get up on your vocab, you gots to have vocab,
Letters make words and sentences make paragraphs
I make the pen capsize the brother with the planet eyes
planting knives every pen that I utilize, spit juice
crack blood from your tooth, inflict truth speak Allah's 99 attributes
Hey yo you baby mc's drink pedialite
While underground doesn't like you the media might
But we the elite we'll change that as we bridge gaps
in this lyrical grudge match brothers we slug back
We bless tracks wit da help of a raw rap
Imprinted like paw tracks all over your brain rack
My mental maneuver will clearly steer right through ya
We grand like puba understand that we move ya
A yo my rhythm reveal rollercoast the real deal
Revolutionize react and build, I plant my dreams in a field and wait to harvest my skills
For the starving mc hungry trying to get a meal
Ayo my quality control, captivates your mind body and soul
For who the bell tolls, let the rhythm explode
Big bad and bold b-boys of old
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#65299
04/23/2002 2:33 AM
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Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189 |
DO NOT PONDER TOO MUCH
by Stefan George (1868-1933) German
Do not ponder too much
meanings that cannot be found --
The symbol-scenes that no man understands:
The wild swan you shot, that you kept alive
In the yard, for a while, with shattered wing --
He reminded you, you said, of a faraway creature:
Your kindred self that you had destroyed in him.
He languished with neither thanks for your care nor rancor,
But when his dying came,
His fading eye rebuked you for driving him now
Out of a known into a new cycle of things.
translated by Stanley Burnshaw
The Only WO'N!
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#65300
04/23/2002 3:18 PM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872
old hand
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old hand
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872 |
WAGTAIL AND BABY
A Baby watched a ford, whereto
A wagtail came for drinking;
A blaring bull went wading through,
The wagtail showed no shrinking.
A stallion splashed his way across,
The birdie nearly sinking;
He gave his plumes a twitch and toss,
and held his own unblinking.
Next saw the baby round the spot
A mongrel slowly slinking:
The wagtail gazed, but faltered not
In dip and sip and prinking.
A perfect gentleman then neared;
The wagtail, in a winking,
With terror rose and disappeared.
The baby fell a-thinking.
Thomas Hardy ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
LITERARY LOVE
I BROKE my heart because of you, my dear;
I wept full many an unmanly tear -
But as in agony I lay awake
I thought, "What lovely poems this will make!"
Harry Kemp
**************
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#65301
04/23/2002 3:32 PM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296 |
Gotta say about Literary Love: Ain't it the truth; ain't it the truth!
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#65302
04/23/2002 4:16 PM
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Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189 |
(and I offer this also in concert with Earth Day)  SONG OF THE SKY LOOM
Tewa (Native American tribe), Anonymous (19th Century)
O our Mother the Earth, O our Father the Sky,
Your children are we, and with tired backs
We bring you the gifts you love.
Then weave for us a garment of brightness;
May the warp be the white light of the morning,
May the weft be the red light of the evening,
May the fringes be the falling rain,
May the border be the standing rainbow.
Thus weave for us a garment of brightness,
That we may walk fittingly where birds sing,
That we may walk fittingly where grass is green,
O our Mother the Earth, O our Father the Sky.
translated by Herbert J. Spinden
The Only WO'N!
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#65303
04/23/2002 8:25 PM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296 |
SPRING AND ALL
William Carlos Williams
By the road to the contagious hospital
under the surge of the blue
mottled clouds driven from the
northeast-a cold wind. Beyond, the
waste of broad, muddy fields
brown with dried weeds, standing and fallen
patches of standing water
the scattering of tall trees
All along the road the reddish
purplish, forked, upstanding, twiggy
stuff of bushes and small trees
with dead, brown leaves under them
leafless vines-
Lifeless in appearance, sluggish
dazed spring approaches-
They enter the new world naked,
cold, uncertain of all
save that they enter. All about them
the cold, familiar wind-
Now the grass, tomorrow
the stiff curl of wildcarrot leaf
One by one objects are defined-
It quickens: clarity, outline of leaf
But now the stark dignity of
entrance-Still, the profound change
has come upon them: rooted, they
grip down and begin to awaken
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#65304
04/24/2002 11:41 AM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296 |
The Cherry-Blossom Wand
Anna Wickham
I WILL pluck from my tree a cherry-blossom wand,
And carry it in my merciless hand,
So I will drive you, so bewitch your eyes,
With a beautiful thing that can never grow wise.
Light are the petals that fall from the bough,
And lighter the love that I offer you now;
In a spring day shall the tale be told
Of the beautiful things that will never grow old.
The blossoms shall fall in the night wind,
And I will leave you so, to be kind:
Eternal in beauty, are short-lived flowers,
Eternal in beauty, these exquisite hours.
I will pluck from my tree a cherry-blossom wand,
And carry it in my merciless hand,
So I will drive you, so bewitch your eyes,
With a beautiful thing that shall never grow wise.
Anna Wickham
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#65305
04/24/2002 11:13 PM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872
old hand
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old hand
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872 |
Must Hurry- only seven days left in National Poetry Month. Quickly now... Tiger! Tiger! burning bright
In the forests of the night
What immortal hand or eye
could [FRAME] thy fearful symmetry? William Blake
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#65306
04/24/2002 11:41 PM
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Joined: Aug 2001
Posts: 2,605
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Aug 2001
Posts: 2,605 |
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
thank you, milum, for bring that lovely poem to mind
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#65307
04/24/2002 11:49 PM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296 |
The City
by C.P. Cavafy
Translated by
Edmund Keeley & Philip Sherrard
You said: "I'll go to another country, go to another shore,
find another city better than this one.
Whatever I try to do is fated to turn out wrong
and my heart lies buried like something dead.
How long can I let my mind moulder in this place?
Wherever I turn, wherever I look,
I see the black ruins of my life, here,
where I've spent so many years, wasted them, destroyed them totally."
You won't find a new country, won't find another shore.
This city will always pursue you.
You'll walk the same streets, grow old
in the same neighborhoods, turn gray in these same houses.
You'll always end up in this city. Don't hope for things elsewhere:
there's no ship for you, there's no road.
Now that you've wasted your life here, in this small corner,
you've destroyed it everywhere in the world.
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#65308
04/25/2002 1:42 AM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872
old hand
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old hand
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872 |
mmmm....interesting sentiments there... maybe one or two of them best understood out of the corner of one's eye. Betcha don't know two poems about "Clods"? I thought not. Sometimes "It takes a thief...
[THE CLOD]]
I picked up a clod.
"You may yet be a man" I said. "Dream on.
Are you not glad? Do you not tremble?"
But dully it looked at me.
I could swear I heard a sigh of relief.
There was no ecstasy or joy.
"I have been a man" the clod said.
~Edwin Curran ~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE CLOD AND THE PEBBLE
"Love seeketh not Itself to please,
"Nor for herself hath any care,
"But for another gives its ease,
"And builds a Heaven in Hell's dispair."
So sung a little Clod of Clay
Trodden with cattle's feet,
But a Pebble of the brook
Warbled out these metres meet:
"Love seeketh only self to please,
"to bind another for it's delight,
"Joys in another's loss of ease,
"And builds a hell in Heaven's despite."
William Blake
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#65309
04/25/2002 12:28 PM
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Joined: Mar 2002
Posts: 1,692
Pooh-Bah
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Pooh-Bah
Joined: Mar 2002
Posts: 1,692 |
A poem about words. What could be more appropriate.
THESAURUS
It could be the name of a prehistoric beast
that roamed the Paleozoic earth, rising up
on its hind legs to show off its large vocabulary,
or some lover in a myth who is metamorphosed into a book.
It means treasury, but it is just a place
where words congregate with their relatives,
a big park where hundreds of family reunions
are always being held,
house, home, abode, dwelling, lodgings, and digs,
all sharing the same picnic basket and thermos;
hairy, hirsute, woolly, furry, fleecy, and shaggy
all running a sack race or throwing horseshoes,
inert, static, motionless, fixed and immobile
standing and kneeling in rows for a group photograph.
Here father is next to sire and brother close
to sibling, separated only by fine shades of meaning.
And every group has its odd cousin, the one
who traveled the farthest to be here:
astereognosis, polydipsia, or some eleven
syllable, unpronounceable substitute for the word tool.
Even their own relatives have to squint at their name tags.
I can see my own copy up on a high shelf.
I rarely open it, because I know there is no
such thing as a synonym and because I get nervous
around people who always assemble with their own kind,
forming clubs and nailing signs to closed front doors
while others huddle alone in the dark streets.
I would rather see words out on their own, away
from their families and the warehouse of Roget,
wandering the world where they sometimes fall
in love with a completely different word.
Surely, you have seen pairs of them standing forever
next to each other on the same line inside a poem,
a small chapel where weddings like these,
between perfect strangers, can take place.
Billy Collins
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#65310
04/25/2002 10:45 PM
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Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189 |
YOUR CATFISH FRIEND
by Richard Brautigan (1935-1984)
If I were to live my life
in catfish forms
in scaffolds of skin and whiskers
at the bottom of a pond
and you were to come by
.... one evening
when the moon was shining
down into my dark home
and stand there at the edge
.... of my affection
and think, "It's beautiful
here by this pond. I wish
.... somebody loved me,"
I'd love you and be your catfish
friend and drive such lonely
thoughts from your mind
and suddenly you would be
.... at peace,
and ask yourself, "I wonder
if there are any catfish
in this pond? It seems like
a perfect place for them."
From The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster by Richard Brautigan, published by Houghton Mifflin.
Copyright © 1989 by Richard Brautigan. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin. All rights reserved.
The Only WO'N!
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#65311
04/26/2002 12:50 AM
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Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189 |
WE REAL COOL
by Gwendolyn Brooks
THE POOL PLAYERS.
SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL.
We real cool. We
Left school. We
Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We
Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We
Jazz June. We
Die soon.
From The Bean Eaters by Gwendolyn Brooks, published by Harpers.
© 1960 by Gwendolyn Brooks. Used with permission. All rights reserved.
The Only WO'N!
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#65312
04/26/2002 2:58 AM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872
old hand
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old hand
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872 |
THE LION
The lion is a kingly beast.
He likes a Hindu for a feast.
And if no Hindu he can get,
The lion-family is upset.
He cuffs his wife and bites her ears
Till she is nearly moved to tears.
Then some explorer finds the den
And all is family peace again.
Vachel Lindsay Which of the following two is YOU.
PRESCIENCE
I went to sleep smiling,
I wakened despairing -
Where was my soul,
On what terror-path faring?
What grief shall befall me,
By midnight or noon,
What thing has my soul learned
That I shall know soon?
Margaret Widdemer
A WASTED DAY
I spoiled the day;
Hotly, in haste,
All the calm hours
I gashed and defaced.
Let me forget,
Let me embark
- Sleep for my boat -
And sail through the dark.
Till a new day
Heaven will send,
Whole as an apple,
Kind as a friend.
Frances Cornford
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#65313
04/26/2002 3:21 AM
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Joined: Aug 2001
Posts: 2,605
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Aug 2001
Posts: 2,605 |
Following up on milum's lionizing, and adding a word-related Twist:
THE PURIST
by Ogden Nash
I give you now Professor Twist,
A conscientious scientist.
Trustees exclaimed, "He never bungles!"
And sent him off to distant jungles.
Camped on a tropic riverside,
One day he missed his loving bride.
She had, the guide informed him later,
Been eaten by an alligator.
Professor Twist could not but smile.
"You mean," he said, "a crocodile."
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#65314
04/26/2002 11:46 PM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296 |
Fan-Piece, For Her Imperial Lord
O fan of white silk,
clear as frost on the grass-blade,
You also are laid aside.
-- Ezra Pound
Based on a 1st century BC Chinese poem
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#65315
04/26/2002 11:50 PM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872
old hand
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old hand
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872 |
THE PURIST
by Ogden Nash
I give you now Professor Twist,
A conscientious scientist.Ah, Nash at his best, even surpassing... Po-ta-to, po-tah-ta,
sih-CAY-dah, sih-CAH-duh,
Let's call the whole thing off. - ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~And now; Lets give these ceremonies some chauvinistic USA patriotism by way of a poetic twist... REGARDING (1) THE U.S AND (2) NEW YORK
Before I was a travelled bird,
I scoffed, in my provincial way,
At other lands; I deemed absurd
All nations but these U.S.A.
And - although Middle-Western born -
Before I was a travelled guy,
I laughed at, with unhidden scorn,
All cities but New York N.Y.
But now I've been about a bit -
How travel broadens! How it does!
And I have found out this, to wit:
How right I was! How right I was!
Franklin P. Adams
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#65316
04/27/2002 12:05 AM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296 |
The River-Merchant's Wife: A Letter
While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead
I played about the front gate, pulling flowers.
You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse,
You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums.
And we went on living in the village of Chokan:
Two small people, without dislike or suspicion.
At fourteen I married My Lord you.
I never laughed, being bashful.
Lowering my head, I looked at the wall.
Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back.
At fifteen I stopped scowling,
I desired my dust to be mingled with yours
Forever and forever and forever.
Why should I climb the lookout?
At sixteen you departed,
You went into far Ku-to-en, by the river of swirling eddies,
And you have been gone five months.
The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead.
You dragged your feet when you went out.
By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses,
Too deep to clear them away!
The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind.
The paired butterflies are already yellow with August
Over the grass in the West garden;
They hurt me. I grow older.
If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang,
Please let me know beforehand,
And I will come out to meet you
As far as Cho-fo-Sa.
-- Ezra Pound
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#65317
04/27/2002 12:56 PM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296 |
A Late Walk
by Robert Frost - 1913
WHEN I go up through the mowing field,
The headless aftermath,
Smooth-laid like thatch with the heavy dew,
Half closes the garden path.
And when I come to the garden ground,
The whir of sober birds
Up from the tangle of withered weeds
Is sadder than any words.
A tree beside the wall stands bare,
But a leaf that lingered brown,
Disturbed, I doubt not, by my thought,
Comes softly rattling down.
I end not far from my going forth
By picking the faded blue
Of the last remaining aster flower
To carry again to you.
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#65318
04/28/2002 3:15 AM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872
old hand
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old hand
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872 |
Thank you wordwind, you know, that Frost fellow wasn't bad. This is not as good, but it's cute. IT HAPPENS OFTEN
There was a man in our town
Whose Christian name was Jim;
He stepped into a pot of glue,
And fell and broke his limb.
The doctors tried to set it,
But still it would not mend;
He limped about, and would, no doubt,
Be limping to the end.
But on a day it happened
He walked abroad, and then
He stepped into some other glue,
And broke his leg again.
And when his leg was mended,
And he was out once more,
Both leg and man were stronger than
They had ever been before!
So, when I broke my heart, once,
I thought of Mister Jim -
I went and broke it once again,
Now I'm as well as him!
Edwin Meade Robinson
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#65319
04/28/2002 11:01 AM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296 |
No, milum, that Frost fellow wasn't bad, but he wasn't thought to be good enough to win the Nobel prize. Pity, really. He should have won it. Here's another:
BY June our brook’s run out of song and speed.
Sought for much after that, it will be found
Either to have gone groping underground
(And taken with it all the Hyla breed
That shouted in the mist a month ago, 5
Like ghost of sleigh-bells in a ghost of snow)—
Or flourished and come up in jewel-weed,
Weak foliage that is blown upon and bent
Even against the way its waters went.
Its bed is left a faded paper sheet 10
Of dead leaves stuck together by the heat—
A brook to none but who remember long.
This as it will be seen is other far
Than with brooks taken otherwhere in song.
We love the things we love for what they are.
Hyla Brook
Robert Lee Frost
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#65320
04/28/2002 11:29 PM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296 |
LITTLE ORPHANT ANNIE
James Whitcomb Riley
Little Orphant Annie’s come to our house to stay,
An’ wash the cups and saucers up, an’ brush the crumbs away,
An’ shoo the chickens off the porch, an’ dust the hearth, an’ sweep,
An’ make the fire, an’ bake the bread, an’ earn her board-an’-keep;
An’ all us other children, when the supper things is done,
We set around the kitchen fire an’ has the mostest fun
A-list’nin’ to the witch tales ‘at Annie tells about,
An’ the Gobble-uns ‘at gits you
Ef you
Don’t
Watch
Out!
Onc’t they was a little boy wouldn’t say his prayers,—
So when he went to bed at night, away upstairs,
His Mammy heerd him holler, an’ his Daddy heerd him bawl,
An’ when they turn’t the kivvers down, he wasn’t there at all!
An’ they seeked him in the rafter room, an’ cubbyhole, an’ press,
An’ seeked him up the chimbly flue, an’ ever’wheres, I guess;
But all they ever found was thist his pants an’ roundabout:—
An’ the Gobble-uns ‘II git you
Ef you
Don’t
Watch
Out!
An une time a little girl ‘ud allus laugh an’ grin,
An’ make fun of ever’one, an’ all her blood an’ kin;
An’ onc’t, when they was “company,” an’ ole folks was there,
She mocked ‘em an’ shocked ‘em, an’ said she didn’t care!
An’ thist as she kicked her heels, an’ turn’t to run an’ hide,
They was two great big Black Things a-standin’ by her side,
An’ they snatched her through the ceilin’ ‘fore she knowed what she’s about!
An’ the Gobble-uns ‘11 git you
Ef you
Don’t
Watch
Out!
An’ little Orphant Annie says, when the blaze is blue,
An’ the lamp-wick sputters, an’ the wind goes woo-oo!
An’ you hear the crickets quit, an’ the moon is gray,
An’ the lightnin’ bugs in dew is all squenched away,—
You better mind yer parents, and yer teachers fond an’ dear,
An’ churish them ‘at loves you, an’ dry the orphant’s tear,
An’ he’p the pore an’ needy ones ‘at clusters all about,
Er the Gobble-uns ‘11 git you
Ef you
Don’t
Watch
Out!
(Sorry about the lines being all screwed up!)
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#65321
04/29/2002 1:03 AM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872
old hand
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old hand
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872 |
Music is in the ear of the behearer...
>>>>>[OVERTONES]<<<<<
I heard a bird at break of day
Sing from the autumn trees
A song so mystical and calm,
So full of certainties.
No man, I think, could listen long
Except upon his knees.
Yet this was but a simple bird,
Alone among [DEAD]trees.
William Alexander Percy
~~~~~*****~~~~~*****~~~~~*****~~~~~*****~~~~~*****
THE BLACKBIRD
In the corner
close by the swings,
every morning
a blackbird sings.
His bill is so yellow
his coat is so black
that makes a fellow
whistle back.
Ann, my daughter,
thinks that he
sings for us two
especially.
____________________Humbert Wolfe__________________
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#65322
04/29/2002 1:22 AM
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Joined: Jun 2001
Posts: 2,636
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Jun 2001
Posts: 2,636 |
Untitled
Shy warbler who sings to me from leafy shade,
Although my eyes look high to see,
It's by your song alone I know you,
And you know less than that of me.
I'm quite content to leave it as we have it.
We'll share the tree and summer, but
Your song will be the one we put our faith in.
The ones I know sometimes have proven wrong.
-Max Ellison
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#65323
04/29/2002 1:44 AM
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Joined: Sep 2000
Posts: 2,891
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Sep 2000
Posts: 2,891 |
Guys, I can't read this thread. It falls off on both sides of my screen. Why is that? Can we fix it so my eyes don't get boogled?
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#65324
04/29/2002 1:46 AM
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Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189 |
Wordwind!..."Hyla brook" is my Favorite frost poem, I know it by heart and present it all the time...especially love the last line...thanks! HER HAIR
by Charles Baudelaire (1821-1867)-French
O fleece, which covers her neck like wool!
O curls! O perfume heavy with nonchalance!
Ecstasy! Tonight, in order to people this dark alcove
With the memories sleeping in this hair,
I want to shake them in the air like a handkerchief!
Languorous Asia and burning Africa,
A whole distant world, absent, almost defunct,
Lives in your depths, O aromatic forest!
As other spirits sail on music,
Mine, O my love, swims on your perfume.
I will go there where the tree and man, full of sap,
Swoon for a long time in the ardour of the climate;
Strong tresses, be the ocean swell that carries me off!
You contain, O sea of ebony, a dazzling dream
Of sails and rowers of flames and masts;
A resounding port where my soul can drink
In long draughts perfume, sound and color;
Where ships, gliding in the gold and mixed shades,
Open their vast arms to embrace the glory
Of a pure sky where eternal heat quivers.
I'll plunge my head in love with intoxification
Into that black ocean where she is enclosed;
And my subtle spirit which the rolling ocean caresses
Will be able to find you again, O fertile idleness!
Infinite rockings of my embalmed leisure!
Blue hair, tent of stretched darkness,
You give me back the blue of the huge round sky;
On the downy edges of your twisted locks
My ardor grows drunk on the mingled smells
Of coconut oil, of musk and tar.
For a long time! Forever! My hand in your heavy mane
Will sow rubies, pearls and sapphires,
So that you will never be deaf to my desire!
Are you not the oasis where I dream, and the gourd
From which I draw in long draughts the wine of memory?
The Only WO'N!
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#65325
04/29/2002 2:26 AM
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Joined: Jun 2001
Posts: 2,636
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Jun 2001
Posts: 2,636 |
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#65326
04/29/2002 2:55 AM
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Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189 |
*swoon* 
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#65327
04/29/2002 9:30 AM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296 |
The Pasture
I’M going out to clean the pasture spring;
I’ll only stop to rake the leaves away
(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):
I sha’n’t be gone long.—You come too.
I’m going out to fetch the little calf 5
That’s standing by the mother. It’s so young,
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I sha’n’t be gone long.—You come too.
Robert Lee Frost
This one has been set to music at least once. The art song I heard in a recital was lovely.
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#65328
04/29/2002 9:36 AM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296 |
DOUBT me, my dim companion!
Why, God would be content
With but a fraction of the love
Poured thee without a stint.
The whole of me, forever, 5
What more the woman can,—
Say quick, that I may dower thee
With last delight I own!
It cannot be my spirit,
For that was thine before; 10
I ceded all of dust I knew,—
What opulence the more
Had I, a humble maiden,
Whose farthest of degree
Was that she might 15
Some distant heaven,
Dwell timidly with thee!
Emily Dickinson
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#65329
04/29/2002 9:41 AM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 6,296 |
ELYSIUM is as far as to
The very nearest room,
If in that room a friend await
Felicity or doom.
What fortitude the soul contains, 5
That it can so endure
The accent of a coming foot,
The opening of a door!
Emily Dickinson
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#65330
04/29/2002 10:21 AM
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Joined: Aug 2000
Posts: 3,409
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Aug 2000
Posts: 3,409 |
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#65331
04/30/2002 1:13 AM
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Joined: Nov 2000
Posts: 1,289
veteran
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veteran
Joined: Nov 2000
Posts: 1,289 |
Here are two of my favorites, having a common theme.
And they won't print wide.
Quand vous serez bien vielle, au soir, à la chandelle,
Assise auprès du feu, dévidant et filant,
Direz, chantant mes vers, en vous émerveillant:
«Ronsard me célébrait au temps que j'étais belle.»
Lors vous n'aurez servante oyant telle nouvelle,
Déjà sous le labeur à demi sommeillant,
Qui au bruit de mon nom ne s'aille réveillant,
Bénissant votre nom de louange immortelle.
Je serais sous la terre et, fantôme sans os,
Par les ombres myrteux je prendrai mon repos;
Vous serez au foyer une vielle accroupie,
Regrettant mon amour et votre fier dédain.
Vivez, si m'en croyez, n'attendez à demain;
Cueillez dès aujourd'hui les roses de la vie.
-- Pierre de Ronsard Sonnets pour Hélène
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles to-day,
To-morrow will be dying.
The glorious lamp of heaven, the Sun,
The higher he's a-getting;
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.
That age is best, which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer,
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times shall succeed the former.
Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may, go marry;
For having lost but once your prime,
You may for ever tarry.
-- Robert Herrick To the Virgins to Make Much of Time
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#65332
04/30/2002 2:27 AM
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Joined: Jun 2001
Posts: 2,636
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Jun 2001
Posts: 2,636 |
Her Hair
O fleece, that down the neck waves to the nape!
O curls! O perfume nonchalant and rare!
O ecstasy! To fill this alcove shape
With memories that in these tresses sleep,
I would shake them like penions in the air!
Languorous Asia, burning Africa,
And a far world, defunct almost, absent,
Within your aromatic forest stay!
As other souls on music drift away,
Mine, O my love! still floats upon your scent.
I shall go there where, full of sap, both tree
And man swoon in the heat of the southern climates;
Strong tresses be the swell that carries me!
I dream upon your sea of amber
Of dazzling sails, of oarsmen, masts, and flames:
A sun-drenched and reverberating port,
Where I imbibe colour and sound and scent;
Where vessels, gliding through the gold and moiré,
Open their vast arms as they leave the shore
To clasp the pure and shimmering firmament.
I'll plunge my head, enamored of its pleasure,
In this black ocean where the other hides;
My subtle spirit then will know a measure
Of fertile idleness and fragrant leisure,
Lulled by the infinite rhythm of its tides!
Pavilion, of autumn-shadowed tresses spun,
You give me back the azure from afar;
And where the twisted locks are fringed with down
Lurk mingled odors I grow drunk upon
Of oil of coconut, of musk, and tar.
A long time! always! my hand in your hair
Will sow the stars of sapphire, pearl, ruby,
That you be never deaf to my desire,
My oasis and my gourd whence I aspire
To drink deep of the wine of memory.
Who likes which translation better?
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#65333
04/30/2002 3:16 AM
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Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189
Carpal Tunnel
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Carpal Tunnel
Joined: Mar 2001
Posts: 4,189 |
Well, here's the original French text...Bel?... which is the better translation from a French-speaking point of view? Remember, Baudelaire was a French Symbolist poet, his images were rich, sensuous, and emotional. La Chevelure
Charles Baudelaire
O toison, moutonnant jusque sur l'encolure!
O boucles! O parfum chargé de nonchaloir!
Extase! Pour peupler ce soir l'alcôve obscure
Des souvenirs dormant dans cette chevelure,
Je la veux agiter dans l'air comme un mouchoir!
La langoureuse Asie et la brûlante Afrique,
Tout un monde lointain, absent, presque défunt,
Vit dans les profondeurs, forêt aromatique!
Comme d'autres esprits voguent sur la musique,
Le mien, ô mon amour! nage sur ton parfum.
J'irai là-bas où l'arbre et l'homme, pleins de sève,
Se pâment longuement sous l'ardeur des climats;
Fortes tresses, soyez la houle qui m'enlève!
Tu contiens, mer d'ébène, un éblouissant rêve
De voiles, de rameurs, de flammes et de mâts:
Un port retentissant où mon âme peut boire
A grands flots le parfum, le son et la couleur;
Où les vaisseaux, glissant dans l'or et dans la moire,
Ouvrent leurs vastes bras pour embrasser la gloire
D'un ciel pur où frémit l'éternelle chaleur.
Je plongerai ma tête amoureuse d'ivresse
Dans ce noir océan où l'autre est enfermé;
Et mon esprit subtil que le roulis caresse
Saura vous retrouver, ô féconde paresse!
Infinis bercements du loisir embaumé!
Cheveux bleus, pavillon de ténèbres tendues,
Vous me rendez l'azur du ciel immense et rond;
Sur les bords duvetés de vos mèches tordues
Je m'enivre ardemment des senteurs confondues
De l'huile de coco, du musc et du goudron.
Longtemps! toujours! ma main dans ta crinière lourde
Sèmera le rubis, la perle et le saphir,
Afin qu'à mon désir tu ne sois jamais sourde!
N'es-tu pas l'oasis où je rêve, et la gourde
Où je hume à longs traits le vin du souvenir?click here for a beautiful graphic of the piece: http://www.poetes.com/baud/BChevelure.htmThe Only WO'N!
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#65334
04/30/2002 9:10 PM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872
old hand
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old hand
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872 |
Baudelaire ?
You people were not going to let National Poetry Month (US) pass without a word or two from ee. Were you?
since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world
my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
--the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says
we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph
And death i think is no parenthesis
- ee cummings
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#65335
04/30/2002 11:35 PM
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Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872
old hand
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old hand
Joined: Sep 2001
Posts: 872 |
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]
- ee cummings
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