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Jan-30-2007 08:15

I make this thread in honor of my good friend BadAss. He and I discussed how it would be nice to have more poetry, so he we go. Now we can all sit around drinking coffee and writing poetry.

I'll put a poem later.

Poets come

Jan-30-2007 09:01

Goodbye

To be in this world,
To live and die,
It's the end of the journey,
And I must say goodbye.

I'm sorry for what I've done in the end,
But I won't be sorry for who I am.
I'm sorry I made you hurt,
I'm sorry I made you cry,

In the end all I can say is Goodbye.




(Don't read to much into that. It was written a *looong* time ago)

Jan-30-2007 17:22

Oh feline creature of the night
The moon shines on your wicked path
Every step you take is cautious and light
You commit evil without fear for wrath

The dog barks at you in vane
You smile as you love to tease
His leash is too short....what ashame!
You’d come closer if he’d only say “please”!

Darkness holds no secrets to your eyes
Your arrival’s always a surprise
For rules and obedience you only feel despise

Jan-30-2007 17:26

With special thanks to Sara Lou. Keep up the good work ;)

Jan-30-2007 21:58

Contemplating the wall;
Do I jump? Do I run?
If I make it o'er the top,
life could be all sorts of fun.

Contemplating the wall;
will they miss me if I go?
Will they cry and carry on,
and would I even know?

Contemplating the wall;
guess I'll just turn away.
I am their favourite kitty,
so perhaps I'd better stay.


(written for a cat who owned me years ago, she always wanted to jump the wall in the backyard)

Jan-30-2007 22:40

I don't feel like writing anything right now, but I love the idea of having a place that's even remotely related to poetry, so I'm just gonna post a poem I like. This was written by C.S. Lewis (yeah, that Narnia guy) after his wife passed away:

'A Grief Observed'

I think I am beginning to understand
Why grief feels like suspense
It comes from the frustration of

so many impulses
that had become habitual.

Thought after thought,
feeling after feeling,
action after action, had H as their object.

Now their target is gone
I keep on through habit
fitting an arrow to the string;
then I remember
and have to lay the bow down.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nice idea Sara and BadAss!

Jan-31-2007 08:16

Snowflakes sparkle as they fall
And as they lie still on the ground
Like diamonds draped from wall to wall
A soft blanket all around.

As I walk I send up a spray
Like that that follows a boat on a sunny day.
dancing leaving steps so cold
through flakes of diamonds silver gold.

Feb-1-2007 08:12

When snow is packed tight
It's awfully fun to slide
So lets go get dressed
For a wild slide ride!

Two T shirts, two sweatshirts,
Two pairs of socks, two pairs of pants
One pair of gloves, my cozy boots,
One puffy coat, and two fuzzy hats!

Out we go to slide on the snow,
Spread your feet apart,
Down you go, you fall,
OW! That smarts!

Standing and slipping,
On the packed snow.
To the the house for hot chocolate,
If we can stop slipping that's where we'll go!

Feb-1-2007 15:42

PARIS

Paris! Oh, Paris! How it calls to me
Paris! Oh, Paris! No other place like thee

Walking with your lover beneath the Paris skies
Or watching as your dog chases Paris butterflies

London, Rome and Venice are all appealing spots
But the thought of Paris leaves my stomach in knots

Have a glass of absynthe, have a warm croissant
Have a slice of bleu cheese, have some cold poisson

The Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, oh it's such a pity
These things cannot be found right here in Sleuth City

Feb-11-2007 16:11

We ran, we ran
While behind us rose
The last of Old Knotty -
His roots reaching to the sky
As a supplicant with arms outstretched;
Shrieking indignation as he flew,
Then landing behind us as
We ran.

Feb-11-2007 22:07

From Seamus Heany, 'Personal Helicon':

As a child, they could not keep me from wells
And old pumps with buckets and windlasses.
I loved the dark drop, the trapped sky, the smells
Of waterweed, fungus and dank moss.

One, in a brickyard, with a rotted board top.
I savoured the rich crash when a bucket
Plummeted down at the end of a rope.
So deep you saw no reflection in it.

A shallow one under a dry stone ditch
Fructified like any aquarium.
When you dragged out long roots from the soft mulch
A white face hovered over the bottom.

Others had echoes, gave back your own call
With a clean new music in it. And one
Was scaresome, for there, out of ferns and tall
Foxgloves, a rat slapped across my reflection.

Now, to pry into roots, to finger slime,
To stare, big-eyed Narcissus, into some spring
Is beneath all adult dignity. I rhyme
To see myself, to set the darkness echoing.
~~~~~~~

You can listen to the author read it here: http://www.ibiblio.org/ipa/audio/heaney/personal_helicon.mp3

You can also hear Robert Pinsky read his elegy 'Impossible to tell' there, which is almost staggeringly beautiful. Takes some time (about 15 minutes), but it's worth it.

Another really cool online poetry site is http://www.favoritepoem.org/ (the favorite poem project)