UnderYourSpell
Gerund Whore
- Joined
- May 20, 2007
- Posts
- 15,794
Have a wonderful birthday dearest lady 
Happy Birthday Angeline
- Thread starter UnderYourSpell
- Start date
champagne1982
Dangerous Liaison
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2002
- Posts
- 7,671
Ditto~ and may you have many more!Have a wonderful birthday dearest lady
PandoraGlitters
Sandy Survivor
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2007
- Posts
- 2,457
Happy Birthday, Angeline. Diving board for you.
serpentwrap
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Nov 27, 2009
- Posts
- 209
And May you staaayyyyyyyyyyyyy Forever Young.... Have a blast. 
Neonurotic
Share some skin
- Joined
- Apr 22, 2011
- Posts
- 1,405
Happy birthday, Ange!
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,333
Awww you guys are all so sweet. Thank you!
EE and I will have a date night later and I will get to laze about today and have things done for me. Now that's a good birthday. I am so not working on any editing schtuff today!
es to my dear poets.
If anyone asks I am 39. Got it? 39. Again!
EE and I will have a date night later and I will get to laze about today and have things done for me. Now that's a good birthday. I am so not working on any editing schtuff today!
es to my dear poets.If anyone asks I am 39. Got it? 39. Again!
Angeline
Poet Chick
- Joined
- Mar 11, 2002
- Posts
- 27,333
Chutzpah
I've been watching Mad Men reruns and I was reminded of this poem cause they used it in an episode. I think it's stunning, like intake of breath, sit still for a minute after reading it kind of stunning. I hope you enjoy it. I like poems in my birthday threads lol not to sound imperious or anything: I just like poems.
Mayakovsky
By Frank O'Hara
1
My heart’s aflutter!
I am standing in the bath tub
crying. Mother, mother
who am I? If he
will just come back once
and kiss me on the face
his coarse hair brush
my temple, it’s throbbing!
then I can put on my clothes
I guess, and walk the streets.
2
I love you. I love you,
but I’m turning to my verses
and my heart is closing
like a fist.
Words! be
sick as I am sick, swoon,
roll back your eyes, a pool,
and I’ll stare down
at my wounded beauty
which at best is only a talent
for poetry.
Cannot please, cannot charm or win
what a poet!
and the clear water is thick
with bloody blows on its head.
I embrace a cloud,
but when I soared
it rained.
3
That’s funny! there’s blood on my chest
oh yes, I’ve been carrying bricks
what a funny place to rupture!
and now it is raining on the ailanthus
as I step out onto the window ledge
the tracks below me are smoky and
glistening with a passion for running
I leap into the leaves, green like the sea
4
Now I am quietly waiting for
the catastrophe of my personality
to seem beautiful again,
and interesting, and modern.
The country is grey and
brown and white in trees,
snows and skies of laughter
always diminishing, less funny
not just darker, not just grey.
It may be the coldest day of
the year, what does he think of
that? I mean, what do I? And if I do,
perhaps I am myself again.
I've been watching Mad Men reruns and I was reminded of this poem cause they used it in an episode. I think it's stunning, like intake of breath, sit still for a minute after reading it kind of stunning. I hope you enjoy it. I like poems in my birthday threads lol not to sound imperious or anything: I just like poems.
Mayakovsky
By Frank O'Hara
1
My heart’s aflutter!
I am standing in the bath tub
crying. Mother, mother
who am I? If he
will just come back once
and kiss me on the face
his coarse hair brush
my temple, it’s throbbing!
then I can put on my clothes
I guess, and walk the streets.
2
I love you. I love you,
but I’m turning to my verses
and my heart is closing
like a fist.
Words! be
sick as I am sick, swoon,
roll back your eyes, a pool,
and I’ll stare down
at my wounded beauty
which at best is only a talent
for poetry.
Cannot please, cannot charm or win
what a poet!
and the clear water is thick
with bloody blows on its head.
I embrace a cloud,
but when I soared
it rained.
3
That’s funny! there’s blood on my chest
oh yes, I’ve been carrying bricks
what a funny place to rupture!
and now it is raining on the ailanthus
as I step out onto the window ledge
the tracks below me are smoky and
glistening with a passion for running
I leap into the leaves, green like the sea
4
Now I am quietly waiting for
the catastrophe of my personality
to seem beautiful again,
and interesting, and modern.
The country is grey and
brown and white in trees,
snows and skies of laughter
always diminishing, less funny
not just darker, not just grey.
It may be the coldest day of
the year, what does he think of
that? I mean, what do I? And if I do,
perhaps I am myself again.
H
hmmnmm
Guest
Many Happy Birthday hugs and best wishes, Ange.
