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  • #76
    Originally posted by Parihaka View Post
    Dave, my eye was moist. Sniff.
    And the other eye??:))

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    • #77
      All through the propeller

      Hand on the shoulder.
      Stamp on the wing.
      In the barracks of problems - washday.
      Soaked notebook.

      I know why
      I walk this Earth.
      It'll be easy
      to fly away.

      In three minutes - big dance party
      for the wax figures.
      At quarter-off -
      death.

      From seven torn skins -
      a shred of wool.

      I want to live so much
      No less than to sing.
      Tie my thread
      into a knot.

      Cold April.
      Hot dreams.
      And the viruses of new notes
      in blood.

      And every aim
      of the nearest war
      Is laughing and craving
      for love.

      Our family doctor
      will warm up his sun-syringe.
      And needles of rays again will find
      our blood.

      No, don't cry.
      Lay and watch,
      Love pouring from my throat.

      Catch it with your mouth.
      Glasses overflow.
      Drain torpedo-chord
      to the bottom.

      And the poster
      of the last spring
      Is rocking the square
      of the window.

      Hey, hole in the temple.
      Blind hordes.
      Understand, it's never too late
      to take off your armor.

      Kissing the chunk
      of trophy ice
      I quietly walk
      to the fire.

      We're bastards of rats.
      We're stepchildren of birds.
      And every one of us -
      1/3 bullet shell.

      Lie down and watch
      the nuclear prince
      Who carries his whip
      to the throne.

      Don't cry. Don't pity.
      Who would we pity?
      You know you’re just like me -
      an orphan.

      Well, what's wrong? Courage!
      We need to fly!
      Through the propeller!
      All through the propeller!

      Alexander Bashlachev

      actually it's a song, but it's my favorite poem as well
      We're so bad, we're even bad at it

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      • #78
        Just For Valentines Day

        To: Massacre
        From: Mobbme

        Dear St. Valentine's Day Massacre
        I wish you could help me ask her
        For I am not the one with the roar
        The brightness in her eyes keeps me breathless forever
        That one day she will be mine forever

        I stare at her with sorrows of pain
        I look down at the cuts near my veins
        For they are not what needs healing
        my heart longs desperately for her feel
        How can a goddesses be so real

        Endless nights I shiver
        Thorough times I cry a river
        One more pint might cause me harm
        But if presented I might gain some charm

        If this is love then why does it seem so wrong
        If love is blind then why can't I write a song
        If you are Massacre I will need every last bit of her
        Without her, this world is meaningless like a blurr

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        • #79
          That poem is not what you'd call literature, but be kind folks

          Hero, i'm waiting on you buddy, todays Valentines day and even if you are busy, try to post one or two of your love poems!!!

          Others pls start posting, poems are brain food :)

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          • #80
            Originally posted by Mobbme View Post
            That poem is not what you'd call literature, but be kind folks


            Others pls start posting, poems are brain food :)
            Its a fine start Mobbme, best of luck for your future poems also. Since you've started with a melancholy poem, here's one I ll copy from my PC -

            The Recollection

            Its about a quarter and two at night
            Am lonely no one can share my plight
            Suddenly life seems at a loss
            Each man must carry his own cross

            The fading Dunhill on my lips gives a dim light
            The thoughts in my mind give me a fright
            Maybe things are not that bad
            Maybe I am just being mad

            Perhaps it was my fault
            Or maybe Destiny's brought life to a halt
            All Karma has given me is pathos
            Each man must carry his own cross

            It simply goes over my head
            When they say for there is always hope
            With an old notepad am sitting in bed
            No faith in anything, just a downhill slope

            I pretend to happily lie low
            In reality am slowly letting go
            No desire I have to face another dawn
            There really is no reason for me to go on

            And these memories still come back to haunt me
            It seems as if fate itself is trying to taunt me
            I wish someone could share my loss
            Each man must carry his own cross

            There is a big difference between then and now
            I know I should distract myself
            I just cant find out how
            There are people I could talk to
            No, I realise I dont really want to

            There is just so much confusion
            I really cant come to any conclusion
            Oh now it hits me,the fatal perception
            I am not trying to draw results
            I am just practising decpetion

            The rette is over, its light stops to glow
            Maybe this is as far as I can go
            I didnt realise the truth is so gross
            But Each man must carry his own cross
            Last edited by Knaur Amarsh; 14 Feb 09,, 12:13.
            When our perils are past, shall our gratitude sleep? - George Canning sigpic

            Comment


            • #81
              Originally posted by Knaur Amarsh View Post
              Its a fine start Mobbme, best of luck for your future poems also. Since you've started with a melancholy poem, here's one I ll copy from my PC -

              The Recollection

              Its about a quarter and two at night
              Am lonely no one can share my plight
              Suddenly life seems at a loss
              Each man must carry his own cross

              The fading Dunhill on my lips gives a dim light
              The thoughts in my mind give me a fright
              Maybe things are not that bad
              Maybe I am just being mad

              Perhaps it was my fault
              Or maybe Destiny's brought life to a halt
              All Karma has given me is pathos
              Each man must carry his own cross

              It simply goes over my head
              When they say for there is always hope
              With an old notepad am sitting in bed
              No faith in anything, just a downhill slope

              I pretend to happily lie low
              In reality am slowly letting go
              No desire I have to face another dawn
              There really is no reason for me to go on

              And these memories still come back to haunt me
              It seems as if fate itself is trying to taunt me
              I wish someone could share my loss
              Each man must carry his own cross

              There is a big difference between then and now
              I know I should distract myself
              I just cant find out how
              There are people I could talk to
              No, I realise I dont really want to

              There is just so much confusion
              I really cant come to any conclusion
              Oh now it hits me,the fatal perception
              I am not trying to draw results
              I am just practising decpetion

              The rette is over, its light stops to glow
              Maybe this is as far as I can go
              I didnt realise the truth is so gross
              But Each man must carry his own cross
              That poem was really good.

              I thought i'd get things started you know, glad you posted :)

              Comment


              • #82
                Nature's first green is gold,
                Her hardest hue to hold.
                Her early leaf's a flower;
                But only so an hour.
                Then leaf subsides to leaf.
                So Eden sank to grief,
                So dawn goes down to day.
                Nothing gold can stay.

                -Robert Frost
                I enjoy being wrong too much to change my mind.

                Comment


                • #83
                  Originally posted by ArmchairGeneral View Post
                  Nature's first green is gold,
                  Her hardest hue to hold.
                  Her early leaf's a flower;
                  But only so an hour.
                  Then leaf subsides to leaf.
                  So Eden sank to grief,
                  So dawn goes down to day.
                  Nothing gold can stay.

                  -Robert Frost
                  What sort of leaf was Robert smoking:))

                  Comment


                  • #84
                    Originally posted by dave lukins
                    What sort of leaf was Robert smoking
                    Nature's best high: spring time. :)
                    I enjoy being wrong too much to change my mind.

                    Comment


                    • #85
                      All right in honor of Valentine's Day, though it has passed, I will post this poem I wrote my lady love. She is living apart from me overseas so that is the context:

                      Two Years…

                      Time goes by too slowly without you
                      I remember clear the day we became two
                      Joy filled my heart when you said yes
                      I knew the years to come would be the best

                      Without you I am nothing, with you complete
                      My dreams are filled with your image replete
                      Love everlasting though we are apart
                      Time will stand still when we touch our hearts

                      Two years have gone but our love still remains
                      Our lives entwined will never be the same
                      Happy Anniversary but many more to come
                      Together forever never to be undone

                      Comment


                      • #86
                        Originally posted by Herodotus View Post
                        All right in honor of Valentine's Day, though it has passed, I will post this poem I wrote my lady love. She is living apart from me overseas so that is the context:

                        Two Years…

                        Time goes by too slowly without you
                        I remember clear the day we became two
                        Joy filled my heart when you said yes
                        I knew the years to come would be the best

                        Without you I am nothing, with you complete
                        My dreams are filled with your image replete
                        Love everlasting though we are apart
                        Time will stand still when we touch our hearts

                        Two years have gone but our love still remains
                        Our lives entwined will never be the same
                        Happy Anniversary but many more to come
                        Together forever never to be undone
                        My mannn!! That's really good. I'll be honest though, if the time arrives I might just steal this one away from ya ;) :))

                        Comment


                        • #87
                          I think my favorite starts out

                          There once was a man from Nantucket...
                          “Loyalty to country ALWAYS. Loyalty to government, when it deserves it.”
                          Mark Twain

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                          • #88
                            I really like "Ozymandias", by Percy Bysshe Shelley, and "The Rime of the Ancyent Marinere", by Samuel Taylor Coleridge; I'll reprint Ozymandias here because it's not that long, but The Rime is pretty long, so I'll skip that one.

                            I met a traveller 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 shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
                            And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command
                            Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
                            Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
                            The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed.
                            And on the pedestal these words appear:
                            "My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
                            Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
                            Nothing beside remains: round the decay
                            Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
                            The lone and level sands stretch far away.
                            "There is never enough time to do or say all the things that we would wish. The thing is to try to do as much as you can in the time that you have. Remember Scrooge, time is short, and suddenly, you're not there any more." -Ghost of Christmas Present, Scrooge

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                            • #89
                              Tagore - Mind Without Fear

                              Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
                              Where knowledge is free;
                              Where the world has not been broken up
                              into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
                              Where words come out from the depth of truth;
                              Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
                              Where the clear stream of reason
                              has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
                              Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action---
                              Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.

                              Comment


                              • #90
                                Translation from BRUCIA LA TERRA

                                The moon is burning in the sky
                                And I am? burning with love
                                The fire that is consumed
                                Like my heart

                                My soul crys
                                Painfully

                                I'm not at peace
                                What a terrible night

                                The time passes
                                But there is no dawn
                                There is no sunshine
                                If she doesn't return

                                My earth is burning
                                And my heart is burning
                                What she thirsts for water
                                I thirst for love

                                Who will I sing
                                My song to

                                If there is no one
                                Who shows herself
                                On the balcony

                                The moon is burning in the sky
                                And I am burning? with love
                                The fire that is consumed
                                Like my heart

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