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ChiRho
27th December 2005, 08:12 AM
A place of education for me and Ms. Rose (and anyone else iambic-ly challenged). Perhaps those who understand the finer intracasies of the art of verse (ahem, Bridget), can elaborate and teach us to appreciate poetic art a bit more.

ChiRho
27th December 2005, 08:17 AM
Although I thought about uploading the entire Divine Comedy by Dante (then, just the Inferno), reason shook that insanity from my mind and I decided to start with a couple easy ones. These two I enjoy and nearly understand...I think.

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

--Rudyard Kipling


Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

-- Dylan Thomas

SPALATIN
27th December 2005, 09:29 AM
Very thought provoking poetry. Dylan Thomas especially. Thanks for sharing.

ChiRho
27th December 2005, 09:59 AM
Very thought provoking poetry. Dylan Thomas especially. Thanks for sharing.


Well, I tend to favor Kipling's If, but yeah, I both are great. Anything you want to contribute, Scott?

Oh, while I am still in the poetic mood...Ogden Nash. He is golden! Not only did he write one of the greatest BASEBALL poems ever, he also gave smooth dating advice!

Reflections on Ice-Breaking

Candy
Is Dandy

But liquor
Is quicker.

-- Ogden Nash

Flipper
27th December 2005, 12:54 PM
I know I have poetry issues and need serious help. My favorite poem, and one of the only ones I understand, is "Annabel Lee" by Edgar Allen Poe.

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love -
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulcher
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me
Yes! that was the reason
(as all men know, In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we
Of many far wiser than we
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In the sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.


Here's what makes it scary. I knew my husband was the one for me when on our third date, he recited this poem from memory, when I mentioned it was my favorite poem.

RedneckAnglican
27th December 2005, 06:10 PM
Shall I compare thee to a Summers day?
Thou art more louely and more temperate:
Rough windes do shake the darling buds of Maie,
And Sommers lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heauen shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd,
And euery faire from faire some-time declines,
By chance, or natures changing course vntrim'd:
But thy eternall Sommer shall not fade,
Nor loose possession of that faire thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wandr'st in his shade,
When in eternall lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breath or eyes can see,
So long liues this, and this giues life to thee,


Have to give it to the Bard baby...

y'all are lucky I didn't break out "There once was a man from..."

SPALATIN
27th December 2005, 06:17 PM
If you are going to quote the Bard then this one is one of my favorites Hamlet Act III Scene 1

To be, or not to be, that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep -- [60]
No more, and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to; 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep --
To sleep, perchance to dream -- ay, there's the rub, [65]
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause; there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life:
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, [70]
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make [75]
With a bare bodkin; who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will, [80]
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, [85]
And enterprises of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry
And lose the name of action. -- Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia. Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remembered.

KagomeShuko
27th December 2005, 10:19 PM
Poetry :)

There are all kinds of poetry, of course! Straightforward, symbolic, parody, silly. . .

Chi, you chose some good ones - straightforwards ones there. . .they say exactly what they say with little to no symbolism. Same goes for you, Flipper and Ken -those are easy to start with. I think my favorite poem to start when it has symbolism is one by Sylvia Plath which I don't have with me at the very second.

Ken, limericks. . .LOL. . .and please, I've a feeling I know the word which you omitted. There are plenty of place names, though, thank goodness. However, I'll leave you with this oft rewritten limerick (there are so many versions of it).

There once was a funny old fellow
Who dreamed he was eating a marshmallow
He woke up one night
In a terrible fright
And found he was eating his pillow.

Stein Auf!
Bridget

KagomeShuko
28th December 2005, 12:01 AM
Okay, here's probably my favorite poem to start with when getting into symbolism.

Metaphors

I'm a riddle in nine syllables.
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf's big with its yeasty rising.
Money's new-minted in this fat purse.
I'm a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I've eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there's no getting off.

~ Sylvia Plath ~

I find this poem fairly easy to interpret. That's not saying others will.
However, here's a hint: picture some of these things - separately. Then perhaps a picture will start to form.

I'll post more about it later. I'll leave you guys to it (That's the best way if you want to learn!)

Stein Auf!
Bridget
(http://moonchalice.com/skin.html)

GlowingFirefly
28th December 2005, 12:24 PM
I love all sorts of poetry. I never was too fond of interpreting poems in my high school Honors English 12 class..

I like to write my own poetry actually. I love writing free style poems.

This one I wrote when I was bored in English class. :D

Earth Changes:

A cautious wind,

Blowing darkness to the world.

Colors of one begin to fade,

As the ground is covered with brown.

Chlorophyll is sucked out of existence,

Until another year.

A new, crinkling blanket of gold,

orange,

red,

and brown,

is re-covered by a soft powder.

Winds from the north blow harsh

And cold.

As flakes of white drop from above

Light is hidden

As cold darkness is all we mostly see

A robin sings a welcome song

Sitting in a puddle of melted ice

Day by day

The harsh, cold, blanket begins to fold.

The sun is perched on a ladder,

And climbs higher and higher into the unknown sky.

The cold washes away,

To return yet another day,

Warmth and light fills the air,

As the tall and proud stand in all.

During the shivering cold,

They protect the furry creatures,

Who seek food,

water,

warmth,

and protection.

When the temperature rises,

The leaders are rewarded.

Their strong arms begin to cover,

With small flowers,

To make them stand out.

They give birth to thousands of green leaves,

Filled with all they need.

As the world becomes brighter,

Activity arises,

fawns,

cubs,

pups,

ponies,

All are given the breath of life.

As they come into the world.

Fairly soon,

The blanket that brought cold is here no longer.

Now a new blanket of soft green takes its place.

The sun is now at its peak,

Sending rays of heat upon the Earth.

Children from all over are released from misery,

And the tall leaders now have full grown

Leaves.

Thunderstorms rage,

Far into the night,

Taking the unbearable heat with it.

But only during this time

Or else they will be hard to find

That watermelon is ripe,

Strawberries are fresh,

And small berries are found in every bush you see.

But to get some,

You must hurry.

For when the cold returns,

In the month that all children dread,

No more will be around.

GlowingFirefly
28th December 2005, 12:26 PM
That's weird.. I defenitly didn't double space that..

I'll share this one too. It's a short and simple one but I like it. :)

Glory to Him

Standing on a ledge
I listen
I listen for your next command
I know you are here
for I can feel your every move
You came to me that cold winter night
and opened my heart
to a new world
On my knees I pray
for you to guide me
I read your word
and see the proof
that lies all around us
You are the one that created all
Just you
and only you
You challenged me
with some of life's toughest problems
"Life must be challenging" you said to me
"For the kingdom of Heaven will be worth nothing to you,
unless you strive for it."
I ask,
"am I really worth this much trouble to you?"
You reply,
"My child,
you are indeed worthy enough for me.
For I am your God
Your Holy Father,
Who will always love and protect you
from now
until
forever."

Knowledge3
28th December 2005, 09:55 PM
A poem
is just a poem
until you add
words and themes
rose smells sweet
and yellow is bright
poem is just that
A set of words after B and C
with meaning

SPALATIN
29th December 2005, 09:19 AM
I have been a poet
and yet I didn't know it

RedneckAnglican
29th December 2005, 01:26 PM
I used to do a mean haiku....