I loooovvvveeee poetry.

A

Agent@5

Registered Senior Member
Its nice to escape to romanticsm every now and again, to test out your emotions. As much as we all, especially here, try to remain objective and emotionless, as a critical part of debating, lets not forget we are humans. Our gift and our menace is our emotions, so it is nice to indulge and create complexities through these. My favourite poem Is by Robert Frost. Its called to road not taken, you will proberbly know it. I mean I have a billion others; sonnets and so forth, but this one really hit home... for those that dont know it.... sucked in! heheheheh i mean ill quote it here for you.


Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
 
INCANTATION

Human reason is beautiful and invincible.
No bars, no barbed wire, no pulping of books,
No sentence of banishment can prevail against it.
It establishes the universal ideas in language,
And guides our hand so we write Truth and Justice
With capital letters, lie and oppression with small.
It puts what should be above things as they are,
Is an enemy of despair and a friend of hope.
It does not know Jew from Greek or slave from master,
Giving us the estate of the world to manage.
It saves austere and transparent phrases
From the filthy discord of tortured words.
It says that everything is new under the sun,
Opens the congealed fist of the past.
Beautiful and very young are Philo-Sophia
And poetry, her ally in the service of the good.
As late as yesterday Nature celebrated their birth,
The news was brought to the mountains by a unicorn and an echo.
Their friendship will be glorious, their time has no limit.
Their enemies have delivered themselves to destruction.

--Czeslaw Milosz
 
Working Class Hero

As soon as you're born they make you feel small
By giving you no time instead of it all
Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be

They hurt you at home and they hit you at school
They hate you if you're clever and they despise a fool
Till you're so fucking crazy you can't follow their rules
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be

When they've tortured and scared you for 20 odd years
Then they expect you to pick a career
When you can't really function you're so full of fear
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be

Keep you doped wit religion and sex and TV
And you think you're so clever and classless and free
But you're still fucking peasants as far as I can see
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be

There's room at the top they are telling you still
But first you must learn how to smile as you kill
If you want to be like the folks on the hill

A working class hero is something to be
If you want to be a hero just follow me
If you want to be a hero well just follow me

-John Lennon
 
You'll wait a long, long time for anything much
To happen in heaven beyond the floats of cloud
And the Northern Lights that run like tingling nerves.
The sun and moon get crossed, but they never touch,
Nor strike out fire from each other nor crash out loud.
The planets seem to interfere in their curves
But nothing ever happens, no harm is done.
We may as well go patiently on with our life,
And look elsewhere than to stars and moon and sun
For the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane.
It is true the longest drouth will end in rain,
The longest peace in China will end in strife.
Still it wouldn't reward the watcher to stay awake
In hopes of seeing the calm of heaven break
On his particular time and personal sight.
That calm seems certainly safe to last to-night.

- Robert Frost


I like this line
'For the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane.
It is true the longest drouth will end in rain,
The longest peace in China will end in strife.'

How true is that, craziness keeps us sane.
 
You'll wait a long, long time for anything much
To happen in heaven beyond the floats of cloud
And the Northern Lights that run like tingling nerves.
The sun and moon get crossed, but they never touch,
Nor strike out fire from each other nor crash out loud.
The planets seem to interfere in their curves
But nothing ever happens, no harm is done.
We may as well go patiently on with our life,
And look elsewhere than to stars and moon and sun
For the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane.
It is true the longest drouth will end in rain,
The longest peace in China will end in strife.
Still it wouldn't reward the watcher to stay awake
In hopes of seeing the calm of heaven break
On his particular time and personal sight.
'That calm seems certainly safe to last to-night.

- Robert Frost

'For the shocks and changes we need to keep us sane.
It is true the longest drouth will end in rain,
The longest peace in China will end in strife.'

How true is that, the constant craziness keeps us sane.
 
Originally posted by Tyler
Working Class Hero

As soon as you're born they make you feel small
By giving you no time instead of it all
Till the pain is so big you feel nothing at all
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be

They hurt you at home and they hit you at school
They hate you if you're clever and they despise a fool
Till you're so fucking crazy you can't follow their rules
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be

When they've tortured and scared you for 20 odd years
Then they expect you to pick a career
When you can't really function you're so full of fear
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be

Keep you doped wit religion and sex and TV
And you think you're so clever and classless and free
But you're still fucking peasants as far as I can see
A working class hero is something to be
A working class hero is something to be

There's room at the top they are telling you still
But first you must learn how to smile as you kill
If you want to be like the folks on the hill

A working class hero is something to be
If you want to be a hero just follow me
If you want to be a hero well just follow me

-John Lennon
Click to expand...

quite pessamistic, but true.
 
One of our members recommended this to me, and it's been a favorite ever since:

Irene Rutherford Mcleod.

Lone Dog
I'M a lean dog, a keen dog, a wild dog, and lone;
I'm a rough dog, a tough dog, hunting on my own;
I'm a bad dog, a mad dog, teasing silly sheep;
I love to sit and bay the moon, to keep fat souls from sleep.
I'll never be a lap dog, licking dirty feet,
A sleek dog, a meek dog, cringing for my meat,
Not for me the fireside, the well-filled plate,
But shut door, and sharp stone, and cuff and kick, and hate.
Not for me the other dogs, running by my side,
Some have run a short while, but none of them would bide.
O mine is still the lone trail, the hard trail, the best,
Wide wind, and wild stars, and hunger of the quest!
 
I appreciate romantic poems but im so fricken sick of everything to do with "love". Why? Simply because i have two pussy whipped brothers. (excuse me)

later
T

But go back to poems
They have such wonderful tones!
Poems are quite Neat,
Poems are simply a cool, cool Treat!

But dont get too far from the main mat!
Or you will get whipped by mister congrats!


Later
T
(P.S I just made that poem)
 
Last edited:
Originally posted by Tristan
I appreciate romantic poems but im so fricken sick of everything to do with "love". Why? Simply because i have two pussy whipped brothers. (excuse me)

later
T

But go back to poems
They have such wonderful tones!
Poems are quite Neat,
Poems are simply a cool, cool Treat!

But dont get too far from the main mat!
Or you will get whipped my mister congrats!


Later
T
(P.S I just made that poem)
Click to expand...

kay... isssues i see ... lol
 
Or you will get whipped my mister congrats!
Click to expand...

Thats actually supposed to be:

Or you will get whipped BY mister congrats!

Thats referring to what he said about threads that go off topic, ect.

Me? Issues? Nope.

Im as perfect as perfect as can be,
Believe me,

Im perfect as a little bumble bee,
Open up your eyes and see,

Im perfect like the sea,
And my nick name is T!
 
I wrote this prose-poem the other day.


June 27, 2002

the thought of the elephant man
has haunted me all my life --

such a gentle man...
such a brave, gentle man...

take heed.
 
This is one of my favorites, simple and elegant....


William Carlos Williams - The Red Wheelbarrow

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.
 
well.. its not really about love (well it is but its hard to see).. but.. its the only one i know... :eek:


The world is a chessboard,
in which we hop from sqaure to square
we play the hands that we've been dealt,
and join our hands in prayer.
We dont see the beginning,
we dont see the end.
but what we do see is a detailed trail of events.
And we are told to win.

Each player has his pawn,
each player has a color.
They put us all on one chessboard,
where we laugh and joke with eachother.
but we are only figurines,
not human minds at all.
and we are made to fight our friends
and batle them standing tall
And we are told to win.

And when the battle is over,
and all the tears are shed,
The player will put us in his little box,
Till he needs us once again.
And without a single thought,
he will go on his merry way,
but its been a while, and i heard
that he might need us again soon someday.
And we are told to win.

And i heard he's opening our little box,
and dusting off our colored squares.
As we all try to see his intentions,
but are left with blankly stares,
and he's putting us in our little spots
and telling us goodbye
and he's setting up his game of chess
to bargain with our lives.
and we are told to win
 
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