Poetry Appreciation (do NOT post your own poetry)

Discussion in 'In the Media' started by Tamstrong, Feb 5, 2011.

  1. Tamstrong

    Tamstrong Administrator Staff Member

    I've always loved (& written) poetry since I was able to read & write. Poetry IMO is an underrated & underappreciated art. I like all types of poetry, & for those of us who do appreciate it, here's a place to post it.

    Please, do NOT post your own poems here. That's what the creative writing section is for.


    Love's Philosophy by Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)


    The fountains mingle with the river,
    And the rivers with the ocean,
    The winds of heaven mix forever
    With a sweet emotion;
    Nothing in the world is single;
    All things by law divine
    In one another's being mingle;--
    Why not I with thine?

    See the mountains kiss high heaven
    And the waves clasp one another
    No sister flower would be forgiven
    If it disdained its brother;
    And sunlight clasps the earth,
    And the moonbeams kiss the sea;
    What are all these kissings worth
    If thou kiss not me?
     
  2. Tamstrong

    Tamstrong Administrator Staff Member

    The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe

    Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
    Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
    As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
    "'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-
    Only this, and nothing more."

    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
    And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
    Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow
    From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-
    For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
    Nameless here for evermore.

    And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
    Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
    "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
    Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-
    This it is, and nothing more."

    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
    "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
    That I scarce was sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door;-
    Darkness there, and nothing more.

    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,
    fearing,
    Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
    This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"-
    Merely this, and nothing more.

    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
    Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
    "Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice:
    Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
    Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
    'Tis the wind and nothing more."

    Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and
    flutter,
    In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
    Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed
    he;
    But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-
    Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
    Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

    Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
    By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
    "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no
    craven,
    Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-
    Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
    Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

    Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
    Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
    Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-
    Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
    With such name as "Nevermore."

    But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
    That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
    Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
    Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown
    before-
    On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
    Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
    "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
    Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
    Of 'Never- nevermore'."

    But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
    Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and
    door;
    Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
    What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
    Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
    To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
    On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
    But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
    She shall press, ah, nevermore!

    Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
    Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
    "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he
    hath sent thee
    Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!
    Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
    Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

    "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or
    devil!-
    Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-
    On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-
    Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!"
    Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

    "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or
    devil!
    By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore-
    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
    Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
    Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

    "Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked,
    upstarting-
    "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
    Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
    Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my
    door!"
    Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

    And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
    On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
    And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the
    floor;
    And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
    Shall be lifted- nevermore!
     
  3. Tamstrong

    Tamstrong Administrator Staff Member

    Attitude is everything! Author Unknown

    There once was a woman who woke up one morning,
    Looked in the mirror,
    And noticed she had only three hairs on her head.
    Well," she said, "I think I'll braid my hair today."
    So she did And She Had A Wonderful Day.

    The next day she woke up,
    Looked in the mirror
    And saw that she had only two hairs on her head.
    "H-M-M," she said,
    "I think I'll part my hair down the middle today."
    So she did And She Had A Grand Day.

    The next day she woke up,
    Looked in the mirror and noticed that she had only one hair on her head.
    "Well," she said,
    "today I'm going to wear my hair in a pony tail."
    So she did And She Had A Fun, Fun Day.

    The next day she woke up,
    Looked in the mirror and noticed that there wasn't a single hair on her head.
    "YEA!" she exclaimed,
    "I don't have to fix my hair today!"

    Attitude is everything.
     
  4. Tamstrong

    Tamstrong Administrator Staff Member

    Wild Nights! Wild Nights! by Emily Dickinson

    Wild Nights! Wild Nights!
    Were I with thee,
    Wild Nights should be
    Our luxury!
    Futile the winds
    To a heart in port,
    Done with the compass,
    Done with the chart!

    Rowing in Eden!
    Ah! the sea!
    Might I but moor
    To-night in Thee
     
  5. Tamstrong

    Tamstrong Administrator Staff Member

    The Bait by John Donne

    Come live with me, and be my love,
    And we will some new pleasures prove
    Of golden sands, and crystal brooks,
    With silken lines, and silver hooks.

    There will the river whispering run
    Warm'd by thy eyes, more than the sun;
    And there the 'enamour'd fish will stay,
    Begging themselves they may betray.

    When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
    Each fish, which every channel hath,
    Will amorously to thee swim,
    Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.

    If thou, to be so seen, be'st loth,
    By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both,
    And if myself have leave to see,
    I need not their light having thee.

    Let others freeze with angling reeds,
    And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
    Or treacherously poor fish beset,
    With strangling snare, or windowy net.

    Let coarse bold hands from slimy nest
    The bedded fish in banks out-wrest;
    Or curious traitors, sleeve-silk flies,
    Bewitch poor fishes' wand'ring eyes.

    For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,
    For thou thyself art thine own bait:
    That fish, that is not catch'd thereby,
    Alas, is wiser far than I
     
  6. Tamstrong

    Tamstrong Administrator Staff Member

    Sonnet 29 When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes
    by William Shakespeare

    When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
    I all alone beweep my outcast state
    And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
    And look upon myself and curse my fate,
    Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
    Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
    Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
    With what I most enjoy contented least;
    Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
    Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
    Like to the lark at break of day arising
    From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
    For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
    That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
     
  7. wtarshi

    wtarshi Well-Known Member

    my favorite poets...THE BEATLES

    There are places I'll remember
    All my life, though some have changed
    Some forever, not for better
    Some have gone and some remain
    All these places had their moments
    With lovers and friends, I still can recall
    Some are dead and some are living
    In my life, I've loved them all

    But of all these friends and lovers
    There is no one compares with you
    And these memories lose their meaning
    When I think of love as something new
    Though I know I'll never lose affection
    For people and things that went before
    I know I'll often stop and think about them
    In my life, I'll love you more

    Though I know I'll never lose affection
    For people and things that went before
    I know I'll often stop and think about them
     
  8. SmoothDaddy101

    SmoothDaddy101 Well-Known Member

    And I was gonna say how deep you are as a poet. :smt081
     
  9. Tony Soprano

    Tony Soprano Moderator

    [YOUTUBE]OnME92JU9zc[/YOUTUBE]
     
  10. Tamstrong

    Tamstrong Administrator Staff Member

    LOL! This is one of my favorite scenes in the movie. :D
     
  11. naija4real

    naija4real New Member

    Telephone Conversation - Wole Soyinka

    [​IMG]

    Telephone Conversation
    by Wole Soyinka


    The price seemed reasonable, location
    Indifferent. The landlady swore she lived
    Off premises. Nothing remained
    But self-confession. "Madam," I warned,
    "I hate a wasted journey—I am African."
    Silence. Silenced transmission of
    Pressurized good-breeding. Voice, when it came,
    Lipstick coated, long gold rolled
    Cigarette-holder pipped. Caught I was foully.


    "HOW DARK?" . . . I had not misheard . . . "ARE YOU LIGHT
    OR VERY DARK?" Button B, Button A.* Stench
    Of rancid breath of public hide-and-speak.
    Red booth. Red pillar box. Red double-tiered
    Omnibus squelching tar. It was real! Shamed
    By ill-mannered silence, surrender
    Pushed dumbfounded to beg simplification.
    Considerate she was, varying the emphasis--


    "ARE YOU DARK? OR VERY LIGHT?" Revelation came.
    "You mean--like plain or milk chocolate?"
    Her assent was clinical, crushing in its light
    Impersonality. Rapidly, wave-length adjusted,
    I chose. "West African sepia"--and as afterthought,
    "Down in my passport." Silence for spectroscopic
    Flight of fancy, till truthfulness clanged her accent
    Hard on the mouthpiece. "WHAT'S THAT?" conceding
    "DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT IS." "Like brunette."


    "THAT'S DARK, ISN'T IT?" "Not altogether.
    Facially, I am brunette, but, madam, you should see
    The rest of me. Palm of my hand, soles of my feet
    Are a peroxide blond. Friction, caused--
    Foolishly, madam--by sitting down, has turned
    My bottom raven black--One moment, madam!"--sensing
    Her receiver rearing on the thunderclap
    About my ears--"Madam," I pleaded, "wouldn't you rather
    See for yourself?"
     
  12. pettyofficerj

    pettyofficerj New Member

    control freak
     
  13. Tamstrong

    Tamstrong Administrator Staff Member

    You talking to yourself in the mirror again, Petty? :p
     
  14. Tamstrong

    Tamstrong Administrator Staff Member

    Wow. Sadly, there are people that have that woman's attitude; it always blows my mind.
     
  15. Tamstrong

    Tamstrong Administrator Staff Member

    Mine To Keep by Helen Keller

    They took away what should have been my eyes
    (But I remembered Milton's Paradise)

    They took away what should have been my ears
    (Beethoven came and wiped away my tears)

    They took away what should have been my tongue
    (But I had talked with God when I was young).

    He would not let them take away my soul:
    Possessing that, I still possess the whole.
     
  16. Tamstrong

    Tamstrong Administrator Staff Member

    :smt023
     
  17. Tamstrong

    Tamstrong Administrator Staff Member

    Mirror by Sylvia Plath

    I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
    Whatever I see I swallow immediately
    Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
    I am not cruel, only truthful-
    The eye of the little god, four cornered.
    Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
    It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
    I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
    Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
    Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
    Searching my reaches for what she really is.
    Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
    I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
    She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
    I am important to her. She comes and goes.
    Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
    In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
    Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.
     
  18. Morning Star

    Morning Star Well-Known Member

    Winter's Roads
    by Ron Carnell

    I cannot speak for all who stem
    'Long roads less traveled as their way,
    Nor question choices made by them
    In days long past or nights long dim
    by words they spoke and did not say.

    Each road is long, though short it seems,
    And credence gives each road a name
    Of fantasies sun-drenched in beams
    Or choices turned to darkened dreams,
    To where each road wends just the same.

    From North to South, then back again,
    I followed birds like all the rest
    Escaping nature's snowy den
    On roads I've seen and places been,
    Forsaking roads that traveled West.

    This journey grows now to its end,
    As road reflections lined in chrome
    Give way to roads with greater bend
    And empty signs that still pretend
    They point the way to home sweet home.

    But all roads lead to where we go
    And where we go is where we've been,
    So home is just a word we know,
    That space in time most apropos
    For where we want to be again.

    For even home, it seems to me,
    Is still a choice we all must face
    From day to day and endlessly,
    To choose if home is going to be
    Another road - or just a place.​
     
  19. Tamstrong

    Tamstrong Administrator Staff Member

    The Applicant by Sylvia Plath

    First, are you our sort of a person?
    Do you wear
    A glass eye, false teeth or a crutch,
    A brace or a hook,
    Rubber breasts or a rubber crotch,

    Stitches to show something's missing? No, no? Then
    How can we give you a thing?
    Stop crying.
    Open your hand.
    Empty? Empty. Here is a hand

    To fill it and willing
    To bring teacups and roll away headaches
    And do whatever you tell it.
    Will you marry it?
    It is guaranteed

    To thumb shut your eyes at the end
    And dissolve of sorrow.
    We make new stock from the salt.
    I notice you are stark naked.
    How about this suit----

    Black and stiff, but not a bad fit.
    Will you marry it?
    It is waterproof, shatterproof, proof
    Against fire and bombs through the roof.
    Believe me, they'll bury you in it.

    Now your head, excuse me, is empty.
    I have the ticket for that.
    Come here, sweetie, out of the closet.
    Well, what do you think of that ?
    Naked as paper to start

    But in twenty-five years she'll be silver,
    In fifty, gold.
    A living doll, everywhere you look.
    It can sew, it can cook,
    It can talk, talk , talk.

    It works, there is nothing wrong with it.
    You have a hole, it's a poultice.
    You have an eye, it's an image.
    My boy, it's your last resort.
    Will you marry it, marry it, marry it.
     
  20. Ra

    Ra Well-Known Member

    In The Depths of Solitude by Tupac Shakur

    I exist in the depths of solitude
    pondering my true goal
    trying 2 find peace of mind
    and still preserve my soul
    constantly yearning 2 be accepted
    and from all receive respect
    never comprising but sometimes risky
    and that is my only regret
    a young heart with an old soul
    how can there be peace
    how can i be in the depths of solitude
    when there r 2 inside of me
    this duo within me causes
    the perfect oppurtunity
    2 learn and live twice as fast
    as those who accept simplicity
     

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