Reply with excerpt's or poems....

[Guest]

 

[FeatherLight]

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as long 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 travelled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Robert Frost


One of my ultimate favorites...

 

[CRaZy]

" Those heroes that shed their blood
And lost their lives
You are now lying in the soil of a friendly country
Therefore rest in peace
There is no difference between the Johnnies
And the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side
Here in this country of ours
You the mothers
Who sent their sons from far away countries
Wipe away your tears
Your sons are now lying in our bosom
And are in peace
After having lost their lives on this land they have
Become our sons as well "

ATTATÜRK 1934


These are the words placed on a monument of rememberance at Gallipoli for the campaign in the first world war. Although many Aussies, Brits, French and New Zealanders died, the Turks also lost more than 300 000 of their young men. The words on this monument are therefore an incredible effort to extend the hand of friendship without bitterness or reproach. If only all former enemies could be so humble.

 

[Tabby432]

No man is an island, entire of it self;
everyman is a piece of the continent, a
part of the main; if a clod be washed
away by the sea, Europe is the less, as
well as if a promontory were, as well as
If a manor of thy friends or of thine own
were; any man's death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind; and
therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

John Donne

 

[naudiz]

Love Poem

My clumsiest dear, whose hands shipwreck vases,
At whose quick touch all glasses chip and ring,
Whose palms are bulls in china, burs in linen,
And have no cunning with any soft thing

Except ill-at-ease fidgeting people:
The refugee uncertain at the door
You make at home; deftly you steady
The drunk clambering on his undulant floor.

Unpredictable dear, the taxi drivers' terror,
Shrinking from far headlights pale as a dime
Yet leaping before red apoplectic streetcars-
Mistfit in any space. And never on time.

A wrench in clocks and the solar system. Only
With words and people and love you move at ease.
In traffic of wit expertly maneuver
And keep us, all devotion, at your knees.

Forgetting your coffee spreading on our flannel,
Your lipstick grinning on our coat,
So gayly in love's unbreakable heaven
Our souls on glory of spilt bourbon float.

Be with me, darling, early and late. Smash glasses-
I will study wry music for your sake.
For should your hands drop white and empty
All the toys of the world would break.

- John Frederick Nims

 

[R Nitelight]

For Madam

The Tortoise


Come crown my brow with leaves of myrtle;
I know the tortoise is a turtle.
Come carve my name in stone immortal;
I know the turtoise is a tortle.
I know to my profound dispair;
I bet on one to beat a hare.
I also know I'm now a pauper
Because of its tortly turtly torpor.


Ogden Nash

 

[RudeNastyAssBitch]

Sober

Behold my friend, I am Heroin
Known by all as the destroyer of men ...
From where I came, no one knows
A far away place where the poppies grow ...

I came to this country without getting caught
And since that day I have been hunted and sought ...
Whole nations have gathered to plot my destruction
They call me the breeder of crime and corruption ...

I am more potent than whisky, more deadly than wine,
Yes, I am the scourge of all mankind ...
My little white grains are nothing but waste,
I am soft and fluffy and bitter to taste ...

I am white, I am brown, but deadly to use,
For once you're addicted, I really abuse ...
I am known in Thailand, Iraq and Iran,
I am welcome in Turkey and have been to Japan ...

In cellophane bags I make my way,
To men in offices and children at play ...
From Heads of States to the lowest bum,
From the richest estate to the lowest of scum ...

I take a rich man and make him poor,
I take a maiden and make her a whore ...
Make a beautiful woman forget her looks,
And Make a student forget his books ...

I can make you steal, lie, borrow and beg,
Then search for a vein in your arm or your leg ...
I am known to be selfish and can fill you with greed
Still faceless, regardless of religion or creed ...

My gift is illusion, my blessing is fake,
Death and destruction follow my wake ...
I am the Kiss of Death to all whom I touch,
I start as a gift and remain as a crutch ...

My friends are many, but I am loyal to none,
I come to destroy, my work will be done ...
Some think of me as merely a toy,
But wise men know I aim to destroy ...

Run from me if you wish, I will never give chase,
For sooner or later you will return for a taste ...
Once in your bloodstream, you'll think me not mean
You will praise me as Master, then nod in a dream ...

You have heard my warning but will take no heed,
Put your foot in the stirrup, mount this great steed
Get right in the saddle and hold on real well,
For the `White Horse' heroin will take you to HELL.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Poem found amongst the possessions of a heroin addict.

The first time I heard this was around the campfire from a most odd man.
He stood after not talking or responding for hours, took a place behind the fire and in a deep and creepy voice recited the whole of this poem. Everyone was silent by the time he finished and walked off into the forest. A Most Odd Man, Indeed.

RNAB

 

[Isabella Thorne]

anywhere i go you go, my dear

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)
i fear
not fate(for you are my fate, my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

~e. e. cummings~

 

[Isabella Thorne]

blind love for my father was the first thing I sacrificed to Mick Jagger

THE RISE OF THE SACRED MONSTERS

I was scared silly. there was pa glued to the TV screen cussing his brains out. a rock'n'roll band was doing it right on the Ed Sullivan Show.

Pa was frothing like a dog. I never seen him so mad. but I lost contact with him quick. that band was as relentless as murder. I was trapped in a field of hot dots. the guitar player had pimples. the blonde kneeling down had cicles ringing his eyes. one had greasy hair. the other didn't care.

and the singer was showing his second layer of skin and more than a little milk. I felt thru his pants with optic x-ray. this was some hard meat. this was a bitch. five white boys sexy as any black dood. their nerves were wired and their third leg was rising. in six minutes five lusty images gave me my first glob of gooie in my virgin panties.

That was my introduction to the Rolling Stones. they did time is on my side. my brain froze. I was doing all my thinking between my legs. I got shook. light broke. they were gone and I cliff-hanging. like jerking off without coming.

Pa snapped off the TV. but he was too late. they put the touch on me. I was blushing jelly. this was no mamas boy music. it was alchemical. I couldn't fathom the recipe but I was ready.

blind love for my father was the first thing I sacrificed to Mick Jagger.

Time passed. I offered up everything I didn't have. every little lamb. I can tie the Stones in with every sexual release of my late blooming adolescence. the stones were sexually freeing confused american children.

a girl could feel power. lady glory. a guy could reveal his feminine side without being called a fag. masculinity was no longer measured on the football field.

Ya never think of the Stones as fags. in full make-up and frills. they still get it across. they know just how to ram a woman. they made me real proud to be female ...

~Patti Smith~

 

[naudiz]

The Connoisseuse of Slugs

When I was a connoisseuse of slugs
I would part the ivy leaves, and look for the
naked jelly of those gold bodies,
translucent strangers glistening along the
stones, slowly, their gelatinous bodies
at my mercy. Made mostly of water, they would shrivel
to nothing if they were sprinkled with salt,
but I was not interested in that. What I liked
was to draw aside the ivy, breathe the
odor of the wall, and stand there in the silence
until the slug forgot I was there
and sent its antennae up out of its
head, the glimmering umber horns
rising like telescopes, until finally the
sensitive knobs would pop out the ends,
delicate and intimate. Years later,
when I first saw a naked man,
I gasped with pleasure to see that quiet
mystery reenacted, the slow
elegant being coming out of hiding and
gleaming in the dark air, eager and so
trusting you could weep.

- Sharon Olds

 

[Guest]

 

[Derya]

One night in late October
when I was far from sober
returning with my manly pride.
My feet began to stutter
so I lay down in the gutter
and a pig came up and lay down by my side.
A lady who was passing by was heard to say,
"You can tell a man who boozes,
by the company he chooses."

And the pig got up and slowly walked away.

http://megsplace.com/dolls/hatnature.gif

 

[Svedish_Chef]

Re: The Road Not Taken

Robert Frost


One of my ultimate favorites... [/B]

Please tell me if you have frost that there is (I think)
a 56 line poem in 4 lines a stanza... about a wood... and no not that one...

I did it at school six years ago and have been searching ever since

 

[Ajax]

Reached in my pocket
and pulled out a dime
She said, "young man you're
wasting your time",

Gonna tie my pecker to a tree,
to a tree,
Gonna tie my pecker to a tree.

Mister Completely

 

[Tabby432]

Svedish Chef...is this it?

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

 

[Dillinger]

Ozymandias
-Percy Bysshe Shelly-


I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Wich yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the hart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
look on my works, ye Mighty, and dispair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

 

[Mr.curious]

Just a Romantic at Heart

The greatest gift that can be given
Comes from within, a part of self,a bit of color,some sayings, a word all together express a part of self.

So to you I give this.
A gift never to grow old.
One that can never die.
It is a part of life.

This written here is now.
But there is always future.
And as life grows and mellows
So must this collection.

In future days, more I'll give
to add to this. But also,
And most important
You must add your own.


I hope the person this is ment for understands.
I'll add more of my feelings. Love ya sexy lady.

 

[Madame Pandora]

"THE HEART"
by Stephen Crane

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter - bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."

 

[Dillinger]

Before there was a trace of this world of men,
I carried the memory of a lock of your hair,
A stray end gathered within me, though unknown.

Inside that invisible realm,
Your face like the sun longed to be seen,
Until each separate object was finally flung into light.

From the moment of Time's first-drawn breath,
Love resides in us,
A treasure locked into the heart's hidden vault;

Before the first seed broke open the rose bed of Being,
An inner lark soared through your meadows,
Heading toward Home.

What can I do but thank you, one hundred times?
our face illumines the shrine of Hayati's eyes,
Constantly present and lovely.

-- Bibi Hayati (? - 1853)

 

[Svedish_Chef]

Re: Svedish Chef...is this it?

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

Dammit no, but thankyou very much for trying

 

[Mr.curious]

Like I said with my last poem here are more I will add.


Distant

You seem so very far away
so very far away.
That I can only see you
But not touch you.

I could cry I feel so helpless
I want to hold you, soothe you
Tell you everythings alright.
But truly it is not, it is not

My heart is heavy
The sun is blocked out by a mist.
A thick mist from my eyes-tears
I want to hold you, Love you

But does it end here?
NO
It never shall
Ever


Hope you enjoy them.