*Poetry*

iuventus · Post edited by iuventus at 2015-05-09 00:19:26

And probably more of her stuff.

The Highwayman

The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding--
Riding--riding--
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.

***

~ Alfred Noyes

iuventus

In he bleak midwinter

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.

~ Christina Rossetti

iuventus · Post edited by iuventus at 2015-05-11 00:45:52

At Twilight

Hand in hand we've each walked
In times of loneliness, in times of Joy.
On the still highlands now
We rest our well-traveled bones.

Toward us the valleys reach.
Above us, the heavens grow dim;
Yet, two larks rise higher and higher
Into the dream of he final glow of evening.

Hold close; let them fly away;
For, sleep is soon to come.
We musn't depart unaccompanied
Into a solitary darkness.

The peace--so vast, so silent!
So profound in this blood-red twilight!
Is it that we've become weary of life,
Or could this, in fact, be Death?

~ Joseph von Eichendorff

Ponygurl · Post edited by Ponygurl at 2015-05-12 00:22:38

There are some beauties on here- :-bd

The Me Bird

I am the Pablo Bird,
bird of a single feather,
a flier in the clear shadow
and obscure clarity,
my wings are unseen,
my ears resound
when I walk among the trees
or beneath the tombstones
like an unlucky umbrella
or a naked sword,
stretched like a bow
or round like a grape,
I fly on and on not knowing,
wounded in the dark night,
who is waiting for me,
who does not want my song,
who desires my death,
who will not know I'm arriving
and will not come to subdue me,
to bleed me, to twist me,
or to kiss my clothes,
torn by the shrieking wind.

That's why I come and go,
fly and don't fly but sing:
I am the furious bird
of the calm storm.

-Pablo Neruda

Some art inspired by it- http://youtu.be/tt5CL5zQTVM

Making of it- http://youtu.be/FZ6Fyyu0CR8

Whickwithy

"Invictus" by William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

A_is_A

This is a lovely thread to wake up to! Nice idea Pony.

Whickwithy

"A grain of sand" by Robert William Service

If starry space no limit knows
And sun succeeds to sun,
There is no reason to suppose
Our earth the only one.
'Mid countless constellations cast
A million worlds may be,
With each a God to bless or blast
And steer to destiny.

Just think! A million gods or so
To guide each vital stream,
With over all to boss the show
A Deity supreme.
Such magnitudes oppress my mind;
From cosmic space it swings;
So ultimately glad to find
Relief in little things.

For look! Within my hollow hand,
While round the earth careens,
I hold a single grain of sand
And wonder what it means.
Ah! If I had the eyes to see,
And brain to understand,
I think Life's mystery might be
Solved in this grain of sand.

whisperit

This is a poem that has meant a lot to me in recent years.

Wild Geese

Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good

You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

whisperit

Interesting to see the grain of sand poem by Service, WW. I have always imagined that the Black Cherry lyric is derived from Blake's "Augeries of Innocence"

...To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand 
And Eternity in an hour...

Whickwithy

Interesting that you noticed, Wi, it crossed my mind when reading it, but I really think you are right. "Auguries of Innocence" seems much more likely to be the source. Though I am extremely preferential of rhyming poetry, I really liked "Wild Geese". It has a nice touch.

Whickwithy

Lord Ullin's Daughter by Thomas Campbell

A chieftain, to the Highlands bound,
Cries, ``Boatman, do not tarry!
And I'll give thee a silver pound
To row us o'er the ferry!''--

``Now, who be ye, would cross Lochgyle,
This dark and stormy weather?''
``O, I'm the chief of Ulva's isle,
And this, Lord Ullin's daughter.--

``And fast before her father's men
Three days we've fled together,
For should he find us in the glen,
My blood would stain the heather.

``His horsemen hard behind us ride;
Should they our steps discover,
Then who will cheer my bonny bride
When they have slain her lover?''--

Out spoke the hardy Highland wight,--
``I'll go, my chief--I'm ready:--
It is not for your silver bright;
But for your winsome lady:

``And by my word! the bonny bird
In danger shall not tarry;
So, though the waves are raging white,
I'll row you o'er the ferry.''--

By this the storm grew loud apace,
The water-wraith was shrieking;
And in the scowl of heaven each face
Grew dark as they were speaking.

But still as wilder blew the wind,
And as the night grew drearer,
Adown the glen rode armèd men,
Their trampling sounded nearer.--

``O haste thee, haste!'' the lady cries,
``Though tempests round us gather;
I'll meet the raging of the skies,
But not an angry father.''--

The boat has left a stormy land,
A stormy sea before her,--
When, O! too strong for human hand,
The tempest gather'd o'er her.

And still they row'd amidst the roar
Of waters fast prevailing:
Lord Ullin reach'd that fatal shore,--
His wrath was changed to wailing.

For, sore dismay'd through storm and shade,
His child he did discover:--
One lovely hand she stretch'd for aid,
And one was round her lover.

``Come back! come back!'' he cried in grief
``Across this stormy water:
And I'll forgive your Highland chief,
My daughter!--O my daughter!''

'Twas vain: the loud waves lash'd the shore,
Return or aid preventing:
The waters wild went o'er his child,
And he was left lamenting.

iuventus

@ 1:35 (Tweaked by D. Harry)

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...

Said the Raven, "Nevermore!"

Urban_Tribesman · Post edited by Urban_Tribesman at 2015-05-29 20:20:20

Not strictly poetry but the lyric of a great song with a very progressive and unusual structure. No chorus or middle 8, just what seems to be a never ending chorus. The words are inspired by the Tibetan Book of the Dead. If you want to hear what it sounds like set to music, go to the What are you listening to now thread.

Turn off your mind, relax and float down stream
It is not dying, it is not dying
Lay down all thoughts, surrender to the void
It is shining, it is shining

Yet you may see the meaning of within
It is being, it is being
Love is all and love is everyone
It is knowing, it is knowing

And ignorance and hate mourn the dead
It is believing, it is believing
But listen to the colour of your dreams
It is not leaving, it is not leaving

So play the game "Existence" to the end
Of the beginning, of the beginning
Of the beginning, of the beginning
Of the beginning, of the beginning
Of the beginning, of the beginning

Whickwithy · Post edited by Whickwithy at 2015-06-14 12:22:34

Self-limiting

Where the limits of this place in which we spend our time
Encumbered by the concrete and the endless paradigm
What limits, that restraint of bonds, when chains of life unlock
How many of the dungeons walls are fictions of the clock
A ray is cast upon the floor from crack within the wall
A color felt, a rhythm seen, sets free enchanting call
Transformation, once again, removes the mortars hold
To crumble all the shattered walls as sanities unfold
The resolutions that we reach are tales of wit and wag
Intuition leads to life beyond the broken crag
Look back upon the crumbled walls, surprise at what is wrought
A pile of dust, insights unique, and tales of lessons taught

Whickwithy

A bather whose clothing was strewed

By winds that left her quite nude

Saw a man come along

And unless we are wrong

You expected this line to be lewd.

- Anonymous

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