First time poster..
- Thread starter EmoChick
- Start date
A flea?
Making no comparison to myself or my shoddy poem but I love the idea of John Donne showing this to someone and them going "A flea? Really???" And yes, I do realise it has more meaning than that, just saying that I don't really think it matters what the starting point for a poem is.
THE FLEA.
by John Donne
MARK but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is ;
It suck'd me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be.
Thou know'st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead ;
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two ;
And this, alas ! is more than we would do.
O stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, yea, more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is.
Though parents grudge, and you, we're met,
And cloister'd in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.
Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it suck'd from thee?
Yet thou triumph'st, and say'st that thou
Find'st not thyself nor me the weaker now.
'Tis true ; then learn how false fears be ;
Just so much honour, when thou yield'st to me,
Will waste, as this flea's death took life from thee.
Making no comparison to myself or my shoddy poem but I love the idea of John Donne showing this to someone and them going "A flea? Really???" And yes, I do realise it has more meaning than that, just saying that I don't really think it matters what the starting point for a poem is.
THE FLEA.
by John Donne
MARK but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is ;
It suck'd me first, and now sucks thee,
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be.
Thou know'st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead ;
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two ;
And this, alas ! is more than we would do.
O stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, yea, more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is.
Though parents grudge, and you, we're met,
And cloister'd in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.
Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it suck'd from thee?
Yet thou triumph'st, and say'st that thou
Find'st not thyself nor me the weaker now.
'Tis true ; then learn how false fears be ;
Just so much honour, when thou yield'st to me,
Will waste, as this flea's death took life from thee.
butters
High on a Hill
- Joined
- Jul 2, 2009
- Posts
- 85,767
champagne1982
Dangerous Liaison
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2002
- Posts
- 7,671
damn... was looking forward to some cutter poems... and nooo, not the horsedrawn type of cutter either.
bronzeage
I am a river to my people
- Joined
- Jun 20, 2005
- Posts
- 49,685
Damn.
There are poetry forums where nothing but lavish praise is allowed. There are other forums where people do not dare say anything positive about a poem. Lit is one of those places where a post is damned fortunate to get a response. The last poem I posted now has over 300 read and 3 responses.
It is certainly strange to request comments and then throw a chamber pot at the only person who took the time to read and ask a simple question. I wish I had quoted the poem. All I remember now is something about people sitting. I did not understand the metaphor or what the writer intended. I am sure this is my shortcoming. If you(Emochick) care to return and explain the imagery, I can make a better judgment.
mynameisben
Half man, half-wit
- Joined
- Apr 18, 2003
- Posts
- 50,215
Fleas: A concise history in poem
Fleas
Adam had 'em
Fleas
Adam had 'em
- Joined
- Dec 30, 2005
- Posts
- 201
There are better bus ride poems to be had...
So never mind and don't cry after spilt egos, bronzeage. Sweet O.
At Lunchtime: A Story of Love
Roger McGough
When the busstopped suddenly to avoid
damaging a mother and child in the road, the
young lady in the greenhat sitting opposite
was thrown across me,
and not being one to miss an opportunity
I started to makelove
with all my body.
At first, she resisted saying that it
was too early in the morning and too soon
after breakfast and that anyway she found
me repulsive. But when I explained that
this being a nuclear age,the world was going
to end at lunchtime, she took off her
green hat, put her bus ticket into her pocket
and joined in the exercise.
The bus people, and there were many of
them, were shocked and surprised, and amused-
and annoyed, but when word got around
that the world was coming to an end at lunchtime,
they put their pride in their pockets
with their bus tickets and made love one with the other.
And even the bus conductor, feeling left
out climbed into the cab and struck up
some sort of relationship with the driver.
That night, on the bus coming home,
we were all a little embarrassed, especially me
and the young lady in the green hat, and we
all started to say in different ways how hasty
and foolish we had been. But then, always
having been a bit of a lad, I stood up and
said it was a pity that the world didn’t nearly
end every lunchtime, and that we could always
pretend. And then it happened . . .
Quick as a flash we all changed partners,
and soon the bus was a quiver with white
mothball bodies doing naughty things.
And the next day
and every day
In every bus
In every street
In every town
In every country
People pretended that the world was coming
to an end at lunchtime. It still hasn’t.
Although in a way it has.
So never mind and don't cry after spilt egos, bronzeage. Sweet O.
At Lunchtime: A Story of Love
Roger McGough
When the busstopped suddenly to avoid
damaging a mother and child in the road, the
young lady in the greenhat sitting opposite
was thrown across me,
and not being one to miss an opportunity
I started to makelove
with all my body.
At first, she resisted saying that it
was too early in the morning and too soon
after breakfast and that anyway she found
me repulsive. But when I explained that
this being a nuclear age,the world was going
to end at lunchtime, she took off her
green hat, put her bus ticket into her pocket
and joined in the exercise.
The bus people, and there were many of
them, were shocked and surprised, and amused-
and annoyed, but when word got around
that the world was coming to an end at lunchtime,
they put their pride in their pockets
with their bus tickets and made love one with the other.
And even the bus conductor, feeling left
out climbed into the cab and struck up
some sort of relationship with the driver.
That night, on the bus coming home,
we were all a little embarrassed, especially me
and the young lady in the green hat, and we
all started to say in different ways how hasty
and foolish we had been. But then, always
having been a bit of a lad, I stood up and
said it was a pity that the world didn’t nearly
end every lunchtime, and that we could always
pretend. And then it happened . . .
Quick as a flash we all changed partners,
and soon the bus was a quiver with white
mothball bodies doing naughty things.
And the next day
and every day
In every bus
In every street
In every town
In every country
People pretended that the world was coming
to an end at lunchtime. It still hasn’t.
Although in a way it has.
gxnn
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Feb 2, 2012
- Posts
- 589
I am sorry to disturb you.
I am from China, trying to find out what the other side of the Pacific looks like.
The owner of the thread seems he is unhappy about the negative comment and other kind-hearted guys try to offer a hand not a handjob?
Sorry for my low proficiency of English, though I have learnt it under the force of my government for many years.
I am from China, trying to find out what the other side of the Pacific looks like.
The owner of the thread seems he is unhappy about the negative comment and other kind-hearted guys try to offer a hand not a handjob?
Sorry for my low proficiency of English, though I have learnt it under the force of my government for many years.
PandoraGlitters
Sandy Survivor
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2007
- Posts
- 2,457
This post could be reworked into a poem . . .
butters
High on a Hill
- Joined
- Jul 2, 2009
- Posts
- 85,767
