SLEUTHbucks Poetry Corner
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.
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)
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!
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.
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!
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
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
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)
Littering Surrey Garden Way:
Discarded holiday wishes and dreams
Picked thru gift boxes and prickly pine needles
Melting in cold wet sleet and muddy grass along the curb
As I drive towards our home at the end of the
Street, regretting the indifference the neighbors have to the
End of the season as we cling to the joy, peace, and blessings, the lovelight
Of our Tannenbaum brings. Upon entering the house, its illumination reveals our
Subtle ways with which we show each other how we feel: hanging our coats,
Clearing luncheon plates, and putting away groceries are just a façade that this tree’s Lighted limbs and iridescent ornaments of colored crystal make transparent
for You and I can
brightly see by lean
by kiss, by tickle,
by cuddle, by pat
on the bum, with jest, and joke, and
quibble, this family is
obviously in love.
I wish I could
Tie them up
In a knot
Throw them away
In a knot.
In the spirit of Valentine's Day :)
SANG Solomon to Sheba,
And kissed her dusky face,
'All day long from mid-day
We have talked in the one place,
All day long from shadowless noon
We have gone round and round
In the narrow theme of love
Like a old horse in a pound.'
To Solomon sang Sheba,
Plated on his knees,
'If you had broached a matter
That might the learned please,
You had before the sun had thrown
Our shadows on the ground
Discovered that my thoughts, not it,
Are but a narrow pound.'
Said Solomon to Sheba,
And kissed her Arab eyes,
'There's not a man or woman
Born under the skies
Dare match in learning with us two,
And all day long we have found
There's not a thing but love can make
The world a narrow pound.'
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