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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 11:20 am 
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It's wonderful to see a poetry thread here.

Here is one of my favorites, by Jack Gilbert, on the death of his wife, Michiko:

Married

I came back from the funeral and crawled
around the apartment, crying hard,
searching for my wife's hair.
For two months got them from the drain,
from the vacuum cleaner, under the refrigerator,
and off the clothes in the closet.
But after other Japanese women came,
there was no way to be sure which were
hers, and I stopped. A year later,
replanting Michiko's avocado, I find
a long black hair tangled in the dirt.


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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 11:30 am 
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The only one I can memorize. :D

Celery raw
Develops the jaw,
While celery stewed
Is more quietly chewed.

Ogden Nash

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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 3:39 pm 
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Ogden Nash is always who I think of first. Maybe it's time to introduce the kiddies to him:

The camel has a single hump;
The dromedary, two;
Or else the other way around.
I'm never sure. Are you?


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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 3:49 pm 
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when I was still actively reading poetry it was:

Wilfred Owen

Dulce Et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.

GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

but I've pretty much only read haiku since 11th grade:


Year’s end, all
corners of this
floating world, swept.
-Basho

and


The spring rain;
a little girl teaches
the cat to dance.
-Issa

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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 3:50 pm 
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Don't kiss your honey
When your nose is runny
You may think it's funny
But it'snot
-- Hallmark or sumpin

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:-Peter, aka :-Dusty :-(halk


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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 4:19 pm 
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Major Label Sell Out
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Sin Barreras

Corrimos, sin aliento a los bosques
hermosura de sombra completa.
Alcanzaron labios a labios como en trance
Sin huella de aliento para quebrar la magia.
Las olorosas y quebradizas hojas cobijaro
temblorosas ramas descubiertas
remontando el uno al otro.

Ahi bajo los altos arboles
nos derretimos nos unimos sin parar
sin ningún destino en particular
y las copas cepillaron nuestro pelo.

Cuando creci, quise
casarme con los arboles.
pero se me olvido como.



Trans:
No Boundaries

We ran, breathless to the forests'
full shadowed beauty.
Reached trancelike lips toward lips
no trace of breath to break the magic.
Pungent crackling leaves encircled
lingering little limbs discovered
heartbeats soaring towards each other.

There beneath tall timber
we melted, merged, meandered
with no particular destination
and treetops brushed our hair.

When I grew up, I wanted
to marry the trees.
but I forgot how.

-Judith Pordon

PS: I really like everyone's poems, this is the best thread I have read in a while, thanks.

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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 4:25 pm 
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I'll post a couple more when I'm not so sucked up in work crap.


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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 4:34 pm 
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Location: viewing the fall....
William Butler Yeats
"The Second Coming"


TURNING and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

_________________
because you're empty, and I'm empty

Cotton Wrote:
I'd probably just drink myself to death. More so, I mean.


"Hey Judas. I know you've made a grave mistake.
Hey Peter. You've been pretty sweet since Easter break."


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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 4:35 pm 
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i'll post more tonight, if I can get home. I locked my keys in my car, 20 minutes away from my house. I have a ride home, but the problem is getting the spare and unlocking my car later. I'm so frustrated.


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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 7:01 pm 
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"The Love Song Of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot

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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 7:07 pm 
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Posts: 17155
When you love someone so deeply
They become your life
It's easy to succumb to overwhelming fears inside
Blindly I imaged I could
Keep you under glass
Now I understand to hold you
I must open my hands
And watch you rise

Spread your wings and prepare to fly
For you have become a butterfly
Fly abandonedly into the sun
If you should return to me
We truly were meant to be
So spread your wings and fly
Butterfly

I have learned that beauty
Has to flourish in the light
Wild horses run unbridled
Or their spirit dies
You have given me the courage
To be all that I can
And truly feel your heart will
Lead you back to me when you're
Ready to land

Spread your wings and prepare to fly
For you have become a butterfly
Fly abandonedly into the sun
If you should return to me
We truly were meant to be
So spread your wings and fly
Butterfly

I can't pretend these tears
Aren't over flowing steadily
I can't prevent this hurt from
Almost overtaking me
But will stand and say goodbye
For you'll never be mine
Until you know the way it feels to fly

Spread your wings and prepare to fly
For you have become a butterfly
Fly abandonedly into the sun
If you should return to me
We truly were meant to be
So spread your wings and fly
Butterfly

Spread your wings and prepare to fly
For you have become a butterfly
Fly abandonedly into the sun
If you should return to me
We truly were meant to be
So spread your wings and fly
Butterfly

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Are you kidding? I have no talents. Nothing. I was very well educated to be an idiot. And I was a very good student.


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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 7:09 pm 
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Elvis Fu Wrote:
tentoze Wrote:
Anything by Robert Burns


The great thing about reading Burns is that after about 20 or so, you "get" the Scottish.

Always a fan of "The Highwayman", myself.


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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 7:17 pm 
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you guys should come to the rampant scotchfests known as "my family having dinner"

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Are you kidding? I have no talents. Nothing. I was very well educated to be an idiot. And I was a very good student.


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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 8:06 pm 
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In Broken Images
Robert Graves

He is quick, thinking in clear images;
I am slow, thinking in broken images.

He becomes dull, trusting to his clear images;
I become sharp, mistrusting my broken images.

Trusting his images, he assumes their relevance;
Mistrusting my images, I question their relevance.

Assuming their relevance, he assumes the fact;
Questioning their relevances, I question the fact.

When the fact fails him, he questions his senses;
When the facts fails me, I approve my senses.

He continues quick and dull in his clear images;
I continue slow and clear in my broken images.

He, in a new confusion of his understanding;
I, in a new understanding of my confusion.


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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 8:20 pm 
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Or some Brautigan maybe?

All Watched Over by Machines of Loving Grace
by Richard Brautigan

I like to think (and
the sooner the better!)
of a cybernetic meadow
where mammals and computers
live together in mutually
programming harmony
like pure water
touching clear sky.

I like to think
(right now, please!)
of a cybernetic forest
filled with pines and electronics
where deer stroll peacefully
past computers
as if they were flowers
with spinning blossoms.

I like to think
(it has to be!)
of a cybernetic ecology
where we are free of our labors
and joined back to nature,
returned to our mammal
brothers and sisters,
and all watched over
by machines of loving grace.


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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 8:24 pm 
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One more, and it's outta this work place..........

Hinged To Forgetfulness Like A Door
by Richard Brautigan

Hinged to forgetfulness
like a door,
she slowly closed out of
sight,
and she was the woman I loved,
but too many times she slept like
a mechanical deer in my caresses,
and I ached in the metal silence
of her dreams.


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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 8:49 pm 
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Posts: 7332
Location: Cloud 3.14159
Cotton Wrote:
When you love someone so deeply
They become your life
It's easy to succumb to overwhelming fears inside
Blindly I imaged I could
Keep you under glass
Now I understand to hold you
I must open my hands
And watch you rise

Spread your wings and prepare to fly
For you have become a butterfly...
What is that, Mariah Carey?

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I remain,
:-Peter, aka :-Dusty :-(halk


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PostPosted: Fri Oct 14, 2005 8:53 pm 
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my i.q.
~ ani difranco ~

when i was four years old
they tried to test my i.q.
they showed me a picture
of 3 oranges and a pear
they said,
which one is different?
it does not belong
they taught me different is wrong
but when i was 13 years old
i woke up one morning
thighs covered in blood
like a war
like a warning
that i live in a breakable takeable body
an ever increasingly valuable body
that a woman had come in the night to replace me
deface me
see,
my body is borrowed
yeah, i got it on loan
for the time in between my mom and some maggots
i don't need anyone to hold me
i can hold my own
i got highways for stretchmarks
see where i've grown
i sing sometimes
like my life is at stake
'cause you're only as loud
as the noises you make
i'm learning to laugh as hard
as i can listen
'cause silence
is violence
in women and poor people
if more people were screaming then i could relax
but a good brain ain't diddley
if you don't have the facts
we live in a breakable takeable world
an ever available possible world
and we can make music
like we can make do
genius is in a back beat
backseat to nothing if you're dancing
especially something stupid
like i.q.
for every lie i unlearn
i learn something new
i sing sometimes for the war that i fight
'cause every tool is a weapon -
if you hold it right.

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PostPosted: Sat Oct 15, 2005 12:01 am 
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Second Album Slump
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Location: In the library, with the candlestick
SEMI-HIJACK!

I'm too shallow for any poetry except nonsense and found poetry.

So how about a shitload o' found poetry:

From the book Pieces of Intelligence: The Existential Poetry of Donald H. Rumsfeld, compiled by Hart Seely. All taken verbatim from Rumsfeld press conferences and interviews.

A lot of these would make good Talking Heads lyrics. "Don't Worry About the Government" indeed.


The Unknown

As we know,
There are known knowns.
There are things we know we know.
We also know
There are known unknowns.
That is to say
We know there are some things
We do not know.
But there are also unknown unknowns,
The ones we don't know
We don't know.


Glass Box

You know, it's the old glass box at the—
At the gas station,
Where you're using those little things
Trying to pick up the prize,
And you can't find it.
It's—

And it's all these arms are going down in there,
And so you keep dropping it
And picking it up again and moving it,
But—

Some of you are probably too young to remember those—
Those glass boxes,
But—

But they used to have them
At all the gas stations
When I was a kid.


A Confession

Once in a while,
I'm standing here, doing something.
And I think,
"What in the world am I doing here?"
It's a big surprise.


Happenings

You're going to be told lots of things.
You get told things every day that don't happen.

It doesn't seem to bother people, they don't—
It's printed in the press.
The world thinks all these things happen.
They never happened.

Everyone's so eager to get the story
Before in fact the story's there
That the world is constantly being fed
Things that haven't happened.

All I can tell you is,
It hasn't happened.
It's going to happen.


The Digital Revolution

Oh my goodness gracious,
What you can buy off the Internet
In terms of overhead photography!
A trained ape can know an awful lot
Of what is going on in this world,
Just by punching on his mouse
For a relatively modest cost!


The Situation

Things will not be necessarily continuous.
The fact that they are something other than perfectly continuous
Ought not to be characterized as a pause.
There will be some things that people will see.
There will be some things that people won't see.
And life goes on.


Clarity

I think what you'll find,
I think what you'll find is,
Whatever it is we do substantively,
There will be near-perfect clarity
As to what it is.
And it will be known,
And it will be known to the Congress,
And it will be known to you,
Probably before we decide it,
But it will be known.


Needless to Say

Needless to say,
The president was correct
Whatever it was he said.


Balloons and Music

You saw what happened in Afghanistan
The people went out in the streets,
And they were joyous
And they had balloons
And they played music
And they welcomed the U.S.
Because everyone knows
The United States does not want to occupy Iraq.


Unanimity

Now,
Is there unanimity?
No.
Did anyone ever expect unanimity?
No.
Life isn't like that.


Man and Wife, Talking at Dawn

My wife Joyce is here.
Every once in awhile
In the morning
As I get up about 5 o'clock
And get ready to take a shower
And head for the office,
She says, "Don, where is he?"
I tell her that
If I want to bring up
Osama bin Laden
I'll wake her up
And bring it up myself.


Central Question

It's awfully hard to know
In fact, it's impossible to know,
Unless one just speculates.
I don't know how many people
Who live in an exceedingly repressive regime
Actually like it.


Cheating Woman

She said she had a question
And she asked three
I asked for an easy one
And she gave me a tough three.


Flying, Too

Now that is not always true.
Think of the B fifty-two.
It's still flying just fine, thank you.
And so am I... thank you.


Gerbil

I feel like a gerbil
I get on that thing
And I run like hell.


On Walking Towards a Wall

If you're walking towards a wall
And you decide you want to go to the opposite wall,
The sooner you make the correction,
The easier it is.
If you wait until you're right face up against the wall,
Then you've got to make a sharp turn


Polls

Opinion polls go up and down,
They spin like weather vanes.
They're interesting, I suppose.
I don't happen to look.


Chasing the Chicken

If you're chasing the chicken
Around the chicken yard
And you don't have him yet,
And the question is, how close are you?
The answer is, it's tough to characterize
Because there's lots of zigs and zags.


Evasion Haiku

I'm working my way
Over to figuring out
How I won't answer.


Doing the Doable

What we are doing
Is that which is doable
In the way we're currently doing it.


In Command

A government is
Governing or it's not. And
If not, someone else is.


They Know Nothing

Anyone who knows anything isn't talking
And anyone with any sense isn't talking.
Therefore:
The people that are talking to the media,
By definition, people who don't know anything,
And people who don't have a hell of a lot of sense.


Not Well

We're not doing that well,
And of course, the reason is
It's not an even playing field.
We're a democracy
And they're a dictatorship.
So they control their ground,
And they manage the press,
And they lie repeatedly.
And we don't manage the press,
We don't lie -
No, we don't at all.


Rules

Anything that I say
That I shouldn't have
Is off the record
I want you to
understand that
Right now, up front.


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PostPosted: Sat Oct 15, 2005 1:09 am 
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Post-Breakup Solo Project
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Posts: 3473
tentoze Wrote:
One more, and it's outta this work place..........

Hinged To Forgetfulness Like A Door
by Richard Brautigan

Hinged to forgetfulness
like a door,
she slowly closed out of
sight,
and she was the woman I loved,
but too many times she slept like
a mechanical deer in my caresses,
and I ached in the metal silence
of her dreams.


I was going to post something by him! :D


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PostPosted: Sat Oct 15, 2005 7:53 am 
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Posts: 7978
Location: a secret lab underneath the volcano
You're all I sees.
Boobs, butt, and knees.
Be my main squeeze?



- Steve Dallas of Bloom County

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