Your Favorite Poems

[FeminineAllure]

Cien Sonetos de Amor - XVII
Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as one loves the salt-rose, or topaz,
or carnations, those darts of crimson struck from the fire.
I love you as certain things are loved: darkly
and in secret, between dusk and the soul.

I love you - like a plant that does not bloom
but bears within itself, concealed, the light of flowers.
Because of your love, a fierce essence,
arisen from the earth, is alive within my flesh.

I love you - without knowing how, when, where;
I love you simply, without question, without pride.
I love you thus because I know no other way of loving
except this, where there is neither You nor I--

so intimate that your hand laid upon my chest is my own,
so intimate that when I dream it is your eyes that close.

[Softhearted]

Paul VERLAINE
(1844-1896)
( Poèmes saturniens)

Chanson d'automne

Les sanglots longs
Des violons
De l'automne
Blessent mon coeur
D'une langueur
Monotone.

Tout suffocant
Et blême, quand
Sonne l'heure,
Je me souviens
Des jours anciens
Et je pleure

Et je m'en vais
Au vent mauvais
Qui m'emporte
Deçà, delà,
Pareil à la
Feuille morte.

A litteral translation (translating a poem is always difficult and never really do it justice):

http://www.textetc.com/workshop/wt-verlaine-1.html
Song of Autumn

The long sobs
Of the violins
Of autumn
Wound my heart
With a monotonous
[Lethargy].

All suffocating
And pale when
The hour strikes
I remember
The old days
And weep

And I go away
In the ill wind
that carries me off
This side and beyond
Like the
Dead leaf.

[Passionaria]

Originally Posted by evolveme

STOLEN MOMENTS

What happened, happened once. So now it’s best
in memory—an orange he sliced: the skin
unbroken, then the knife, the chilled wedge
lifted to my mouth, his mouth, the thin
membrane between us, the exquisite orange,
tongue, orange, my nakedness and his,
the way he pushed me up against the fridge—
Now I get to feel his hands again, the kiss
that didn’t last, but sent some neural twin
flashing wildly through the cortex. Love’s
merciless, the way it travels in
and keeps emitting light. Beside the stove
we ate an orange. And there were purple flowers
on the table. And we still had hours.

- Kim Addonizio

Poignant and sharp, such beautiful phrases! Pashi

[Passionaria]

Originally Posted by Rook

Sonnet of the Sweet Complaint
Federico Garcia Lorca
Never let me lose the marvel
of your statue-like eyes, or the accent
the solitary rose of your breath
places on my cheek at night.

I am afraid of being, on this shore,
a branchless trunk, and what I most regret
is having no flower, pulp, or clay
for the worm of my despair.

If you are my hidden treasure,
if you are my cross, my dampened pain,
if I am a dog, and you alone my master,

never let me lose what I have gained,
and adorn the branches of your river
with leaves of my estranged Autumn.

" never let me lose what I have gained,
and adorn the branches of your river
with leaves of my estranged Autumn "

these word cross my mind like a sad yearning kiss...... Pash i

[Passionaria]

November 2, 2009 - Monday


left over change
in the stories of her tears
he felt those long ago sounds
some of yesterdays distortions
spilling into the sound of today
like a mindfull of left over change
parts of her life spent living the past

those times of more shadows then light
the castings of clouds that drift with her
where ever life takes her some memories
wage their own battle about remembering

good memories and bad memories locked in strugglings
the many twists of fate seem to favor the bad memories
these everyday balancing acts of when and what to trust
to many times the bringers of hurt leave their imprinting
like lingerings threads weaving pain into fear into masks
wearing life as a disguise buying time to get through now

those times of more light then shadows
the saving grace of those drifting clouds
the splashing of bright a scattering light
flashing glimpses of laughing in dreams

laughter feels better when the smiles are real
and her heart and her spirit need more of that
doing the best she can do in the circumstances
finding her way to get through clouds that drift
and memories of a mindfull of left over change

[Semantics]

To Eva Descending the Stair

Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear;
The wheels revolve, the universe keeps running.
(Proud you halt upon the spiral stair.)

The asteroids turn traitor in the air,
And planets plot with old elliptic cunning;
Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear.

Red the unraveled rose sings in your hair:
Blood springs eternal if the heart be burning.
(Proud you halt upon the spiral stair.)

Cryptic stars wind up the atmosphere,
In solar schemes the titled suns go turning;
Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear.

Loud the immortal nightingales declare:
Love flames forever if the flesh be yearning.
(Proud you halt upon the spiral stair.)

Circling zodiac compels the year.
Intolerant beauty never will be learning.
Clocks cry: stillness is a lie, my dear.
(Proud you halt upon the spiral stair.)

Sylvia Plath

[Diva]

I love anything Christina Rossetti (English Victorian poetress; 1830~1894) ever wrote. This is, perhaps my favorite piece of hers:

A Birthday

My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a watered shoot;
My heart is like an apple tree
Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these
Because my love is come to me.


Raise me a dais of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs~de~lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.

(November 18, 1857)

[atomiczombie]

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh ... And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

Edward Estlin Cummings

[Jet]

Haiku Ambulance


A piece of green pepper
fell
off the wooden salad bowl:
so what?

—Richard Brautigan

[Lynn]

When I started my new life, this became my anthem. I still swell up inside when I read it.


The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.

Mary Oliver

[Diva]

Another favorite from Christina Rossetti



In The Lane

When my love came home to me,
Pleasant summer bringing,
Every tree was out in leaf,
Every bird was singing.

There I met her in the lane
By those waters gleamy,
Met her toward the fall of day,
Warm and dear and dreamy.
Did I loiter in the lane?
None was there to see me.

Only roses in the hedge,
Lilies on the river,
Saw our greeting fast and fond,
Counted gift and giver,
Saw me take her to my home,
Take her home forever.

[atomiczombie]

I Am A Beggar Always


i am a beggar always
who begs in your mind

(slightly smiling, patient, unspeaking
with a sign on his
chest
BLIND)yes i

am this person of whom somehow
you are never wholly rid(and who

does not ask for more than
just enough dreams to
live on)
after all, kid

you might as well
toss him a few thoughts

a little love preferably,
anything which you can't
pass off on other people: for
instance a
plugged promise-

the he will maybe (hearing something
fall into his hat)go wandering
after it with fingers;till having

found
what was thrown away
himself
taptaptaps out of your brain, hopes, life
to(carefully turning a
corner)never bother you any more

e. e. cummings

[Passionaria]

I love this woman, follow it all the way through and see where she takes it...

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pYdmABW59Ds"]YouTube- "WTC" La Bruja[/ame]
I hope I can deliver live readings this well some day
Pashi

[Passionaria]

This is wonderful!Pashi

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KyqwvC5s4n8"]YouTube- Poetry by Langston Hughes - The Weary Blues[/ame]

[Passionaria]

[ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWSe4t9v62I"]YouTube- Madonna - Bittersweet [RWB Video Mix][/ame]

Pashi

[Mister Bent]

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals
fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

- Charles Bukowski

[violaine]

Gray, quiet and tired and mean
Picking at a worried seam
I try to make you mad at me over the phone
Red eyes and fire and signs
Im taken by a nursery rhyme
I want to make a ray of sunshine and never leave home

No amount of coffee, no amount of crying
No amount of whiskey, no amount of wine
No, nothing else will do
I've gotta have you, I've gotta have you

The road gets cold
Theres no spring in the middle this year
Im the new chicken clucking open hearts and ears
Oh, such a prima donna, sorry for myself
But green, it is also summer
And I wont be warm till Im lying in your arms

I see it all through a telescope:
Guitar, suitcase, and a warm coat
Lying in the back of the blue boat
Humming a tune...

- weepies

[Selenay]

A LITANY FOR SURVIVAL


For those of us who live at the shoreline
standing upon the constant edges of decision
crucial and alone
for those of us who cannot indulge
the passing dreams of choice
who love in doorways coming and going
in the hours between dawns
looking inward and outward
at once before and after
seeking a now that can breed
futures
like bread in our children's mouths
so their dreams will not reflect
the death of ours:

For those of us
who were imprinted with fear
like a faint line in the center of our foreheads
learning to be afraid with our mother's milk
for by this weapon
this illusion of some safety to be found
the heavy-footed hoped to silence us
For all of us
this instant and this triumph
We were never meant to survive.

And when the sun rises we are afraid
it might not remain
when the sun sets we are afraid
it might not rise in the morning
when our stomachs are full we are afraid
of indigestion
when our stomachs are empty we are afraid
we may never eat again
when we are loved we are afraid
love will vanish
when we are alone we are afraid
love will never return
and when we speak we are afraid
our words will not be heard
nor welcomed
but when we are silent
we are still afraid

So it is better to speak
remembering
we were never meant to survive

- Audre Lorde

[violaine]

Mists and Rains

Waning autumn, winter, mudbound spring -
I thank these somnolent seasons which I love
For offering to both my heart and mind
So vaperous a shroud, so vague a tomb.

Here on this huge plain where the wind perfects
A will of its own and the weathervane cries all night,
Now and not in the tepid days to come
My soul prefers to spread her raven wings.

Filled with dead and dying things, the heart
Itself is frozen fast, and best of all
- O queen of our climate, ashen time of year -

Your livid shadows never seem to change
Except on moonless nights when two by two
We rock our pain to sleep on a reckless bed.

--les fleurs du mal/charles baudelaire

[FeminineAllure]

Life Is What We Make It
by Edgar A. Guest


Life is a jest;
Take the delight of it.
Laughter is best;
Sing through the night of it.
Swiftly the tear
And the hurt and the ache of it
Find us down here;
Life must be what we make of it.

Life is a song;
Dance to the thrill of it.
Grief's hours are long,
And cold is the chill of it.
Joy is man's need;
Let us smile for the sake of it.
This be our creed:
Life must be what we make of it.

Life is a soul;
The virtue and vice of it,
Strife for a goal,
And man's strength is the price of it.
Your life and mine,
The bare bread and the cake of it
End in this line:
Life must be what we make of it.