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  • Showing only topics with the tag "poetry". Back to normal view
    1. Random thoughts at daybreak

      In shadows cast, a serpent sleek, With bands of black and white. In self-encircling, fate draws near, A moment tense, a future unclear. Yet, ere the bite, a raptor bold, Descends with grace, a...

      In shadows cast, a serpent sleek,
      With bands of black and white.
      In self-encircling, fate draws near,
      A moment tense, a future unclear.

      Yet, ere the bite, a raptor bold,
      Descends with grace, a tale unfolds.
      Its talons clasp the serpent’s plight,
      A dance of choices in the fading light.

      Two paths converge, in present’s hold,
      Humanity’s tale, a story bold.
      Betwixt self-will and forces unseen,
      The dance of fate, on history’s screen.

      17 votes
    2. The great advantage of being alive

      I desire more poetry on this site. So here is more poetry! I believe this is Cummings due to the style and some cursory internet searches but I was unable to find an authoritative source. If...

      I desire more poetry on this site. So here is more poetry!

      I believe this is Cummings due to the style and some cursory internet searches but I was unable to find an authoritative source. If anyone has one I'll edit it in! The formatting is taken from a book (I discovered this in a photo online).

      the great advantage of being alive
      (instead of undying)is not so much
      that mind no more can disprove than prove
      what heart may feel and soul may touch
      --the great(my darling) happens to be
      that love are in we,that love are in we

      and here is a secret they will never share
      for whom create is less than have
      or one times one than when times where--
      that we are in love,that we are in love
      with us they've nothing times nothing to do
      (for love are in we am in i am in you)

      this world(as timorous itsters all
      to call their cowardice quite agree)
      shall never discover our touch and feel
      --for love are in we are in love are in we;
      for you are and i am and we are(above
      and under all possible worlds)in love

      a billion brains may coax undeath
      from fancied fact and spaceful time--
      no heart can leap,no soul can breathe
      but by the sizeless truth of a dream
      whose sleep is the sky and the earth and the sea.
      For love are in you am in i are in we

      23 votes
    3. Looking for sources related to "The Repetitive Nature of Human Tribulations"

      Hello everyone :) I write as a hobby and have had an article in my drafts for a long, long time. In essence, I'd like to discuss the "repetitive nature of human tribulations/suffering/life", that...

      Hello everyone :)

      I write as a hobby and have had an article in my drafts for a long, long time. In essence, I'd like to discuss the "repetitive nature of human tribulations/suffering/life", that is, the fact that regardless of superficial characteristics we all are confronted with extremely similar circumstances throughout our lives.

      Whether it's 10 years into our lives or 40, there's joy, heartbreak, loss, a need to belong, some desire for freedom, a need for a purpose, lack of direction, obsession with a newly found direction, etc.

      I'd love to come across poets, philosophers, psychologists, etc who have touched upon this subject: we are not defined by our circumstances, as they are, in very broad strokes, largely the same, but by how we are able to adapt and reinvent ourselves amidst those same circumstances.

      Looking forward for your answers :)

      Thanks!

      7 votes
    4. Does anyone here enjoy poetry? If yes, what are your gateway drug poems and what are your hidden gems?

      So as an American whose love of poetry started in early childhood with A A Milne and Lewis Carroll, I have a theory that the teaching of poetry in typical schools (at least for my generation which...

      So as an American whose love of poetry started in early childhood with A A Milne and Lewis Carroll, I have a theory that the teaching of poetry in typical schools (at least for my generation which may be 30 years out of date re what happens now) that poetry as taught is almost tailor made to destroy any interest in poetry. I like to compare it to introducing music by teaching music theory.

      So, if anyone here reads poetry and is willing to talk about it, what poems would you use if you wanted to come up with a gateway drug. They should be easy to appreciate. And on the flip side, if you met someone who said they were really into poetry, are there sophisticated poems that you think are just cool and insightful and moving and impressive in some way? Please feel free to explain your choices or to talk about your experience with poetry in or outside of education.

      36 votes
    5. Poetry Machine (project)

      The concept It's a box that contains a receipt printer and an interface with several buttons. A user would press a button that reflects their emotional state (happy, sad, anxious, etc.), then the...

      The concept

      It's a box that contains a receipt printer and an interface with several buttons. A user would press a button that reflects their emotional state (happy, sad, anxious, etc.), then the machine prints out a more-or-less appropriate poem on a receipt printer, beautifully formatted and embellished with simple artwork.

      It could be occasionally repurposed for certain themes, like Pride Month to print out queer poems.

      I want to place it someplace public and well-trafficked, like Dolores Park or on Castro Street.

      Feedback

      I like poetry. The idea of a (free) vending machine that gives me a poem to uplift my day excites me. But I wonder if this appeals to others enough to be worth fully realizing. I don't want to spend time and money building something that'll go totally unloved.

      Also curious about anti-vandalism measures or ideas. I'm sure some jerk will try graffiti-ing it or peeing on it.

      Lastly, anyone interested in collaborating?

      7 votes
    6. An Ode to Undies

      T'was picking fruit down under, where I learned the truth of underwear Davenport made the best boxer costed more but last forever At first my junk was hanging loose no more briefs snuggling like a...

      T'was picking fruit down under, where
      I learned the truth of underwear
      Davenport made the best boxer
      costed more but last forever

      At first my junk was hanging loose
      no more briefs snuggling like a noose
      but soon I loved it hanging free
      it's quicker when you have to pee

      Decade later holes not in sight
      Bought some more in case they might
      Thought they'd be with me till the end
      Thirty years they've been my friend

      Now I'm down to last seven pair
      Out of business they went I fear
      Brought down low by cheap knock offs
      Where oh where is my Undie Guru now?

      12 votes
    7. I sang her name in words forgotten

      I sang her name in words forgotten Rough bellows of lost yearning A hurt hound without path A sorrow meaning without an end I heard the rain, heard the ocean Lick the sand without defect The...

      I sang her name in words forgotten
      Rough bellows of lost yearning
      A hurt hound without path
      A sorrow meaning without an end

      I heard the rain, heard the ocean
      Lick the sand without defect
      The water, where it falls
      Is always beautiful all the same

      I saw, my God, that you made her
      Carefully crooked, imperfect
      And inside her deep mournful eyes
      The tears that I could never shed

      9 votes
    8. In My Dressing Gown

      The sky is clear except for some soft grey clouds beyond the hill The early setting sun shines orange on the woods and the houses that sit atop the ridge Not a single bird crosses the pale blue...

      The sky is clear
      except for some
      soft grey clouds
      beyond the hill

      The early setting sun shines orange
      on the woods
      and the houses
      that sit atop the ridge

      Not a single bird crosses
      the pale blue sky
      though I can hear
      their chorus
      and a gentle wind blows
      cold
      on my face

      I can smell the traffic
      from the road behind my house
      mingling with
      the earthy smell of trees
      from the field in front

      Neither my hot black coffee
      nor my dressing gown
      are enough
      to keep the
      cold
      at bay
      on this
      the first truly frosty day
      of the year

      7 votes
    9. Occupation

      Occupied by the primal cries of democracy and its dying eyes. Ain't no reason to keep pushing some days the infighting the outfighting the needless highlighting of differences in ourselves and...

      Occupied by the primal cries of democracy and its dying eyes.
      Ain't no reason to keep pushing some days the infighting the outfighting the needless highlighting of differences in ourselves and others, not some injustice just arbitrary maladjustment.
      These words ain't here to minimize or demoralize but to quantify and qualify the true enemy.
      We are cannibals, our self absorption and self adornment lead to self consumption and our mutually assured destruction.
      As we consume we forget we need to resume what we started, we assume that we’ve done enough and that the movement will carry on without us.
      It’s too late, in the death throws of Democracy we choose a different path, without occupation, preceded by preoccupation, we now find ourselves the subject of this new occupation.

      5 votes
    10. The Prologue to Another Man's Life

      Deep are the sighs of unsung mariners, Drifting gently upward out of bottomless canyons Over hills and mountains Through snowdrifts and clouds, They make their way Home. Calling the stars (so far...

      Deep are the sighs of unsung mariners,
      Drifting gently upward out of bottomless canyons
      Over hills and mountains
      Through snowdrifts and clouds,
      They make their way
      Home.

      Calling the stars (so far out of reach);
      Calling the moon (dispassionate waning gibbous);
      Calling the trees (for the spineless tools they are);
      Calling the ocean,
      The ocean:
      Home.

      Cry to the waves for the songs of land,
      The endless dark crashing and shifting and moving.
      Plead for stability. Remembrance. Peace.
      Beg for an end to this oppressive
      Home.

      Deep are the sighs of unsung mariners.
      Sigh no longer.
      I sing you now;
      I bring you
      Home.

      8 votes
    11. Poetry analysis/appreciation request - Morning, by Frank O'Hara

      I'm an undoubted pleb when it comes to just about everything artistic (with the exception of music, in which I have impeccable taste). A while back, I suggested I'd be interested in seeing some...

      I'm an undoubted pleb when it comes to just about everything artistic (with the exception of music, in which I have impeccable taste). A while back, I suggested I'd be interested in seeing some critique or general discussion of already-known or published poetry, if only so I could get others' opinions on things that usually go over my head. This is an effort to get the ball rolling, with a poem that is one of my favorites.

      Also, I'm not sure if this belongs here or in ~arts, please classify as appropriate.


      Morning - Frank O'Hara

      I've got to tell you
      how I love you always
      I think of it on grey
      mornings with death

      in my mouth the tea
      is never hot enough
      then and the cigarette
      dry the maroon robe

      chills me I need you
      and look out the window
      at the noiseless snow

      At night on the dock
      the buses glow like
      clouds and I am lonely
      thinking of flutes

      I miss you always
      when I go to the beach
      the sand is wet with
      tears that seem mine

      although I never weep
      and hold you in my
      heart with a very real
      humor you'd be proud of

      the parking lot is
      crowded and I stand
      rattling my keys the car
      is empty as a bicycle

      what are you doing now
      where did you eat your
      lunch and were there
      lots of anchovies it

      is difficult to think
      of you without me in
      the sentence you depress
      me when you are alone

      Last night the stars
      were numerous and today
      snow is their calling
      card I'll not be cordial

      there is nothing that
      distracts me music is
      only a crossword puzzle
      do you know how it is

      when you are the only
      passenger if there is a
      place further from me
      I beg you do not go

      7 votes
    12. "Man, I didn't want to grow up to this."

      So we have all these people, and they all seem to be pissed. So many people and they all seem to have... something amiss. Many of these people, their concerns are just... entirely dismissed: By...

      So we have all these people, and they all seem to be pissed.

      So many people and they all seem to have... something amiss.

      Many of these people, their concerns are just... entirely dismissed:

      By other people with the same problems who somehow look at these perfectly normal people and react: "I have been nixed!"

      These problems are pervasive in our memories and experiences and on a metaphorical wall they are fixed;

      And yet the root causes are consistently misinterpreted, and ultimately missed.

      And the result is we are betting everything for the sake of getting our cathartic and revengeful fix?

      That is being delivered to us by people that if they were to meet us, would utterly reject us and loudly hiss?

      And if that gamble fails I will be the one to pick up the scraps, and mop up the piss?

      Man, I didn't want to grow up to this.

      9 votes
    13. I wrote a poem - Coming Out 2.0

      I'm working on this for a poetry class I'm taking, any criticism is welcome. Edit: Italicized some text I forgot when I copied it out of Word. Edit 2: Fixed some phrasing. Coming Out 2.0 When I...

      I'm working on this for a poetry class I'm taking, any criticism is welcome.

      Edit: Italicized some text I forgot when I copied it out of Word.
      Edit 2: Fixed some phrasing.

      Coming Out 2.0

      When I first came out
      I thought it was over.
      Done.
      I know myself now,
      My life can finally be
      worthwhile and fun.

      But there was always a mess I dared
      not touch. Who do I like? What gaze
      makes me blush? I suspected the feminine
      but held out hope – only taking up one letter
      made it easier to cope.

      And some people do change after starting
      HRT, so patiently I hoped men would appeal
      to me. I had some feelings before, it seemed reasonable
      they would grow. But as time went on I realized I had
      nothing to show. My feelings for men were entirely gone,
      but still hopeful for a straight-passing future, I pressed on.

      I had definite feelings for women before,
      But at times the attraction seemed a bit more –
      Did I want to be them or did I want to be with them?
      The former I assumed, as it helped to distract,
      focus on my work, brush my desires under the mat.

      I’d think “She looks cute”, but “in that outfit”, “with that hairdo” and other qualifiers
      I began to append, convincing myself what I felt was normal and, like a
      Chicagoland road, no bend. When I began to notice some feelings bubbling up I said
      “Female friendships are close, it’s nothing, the end.” But try as I might, they flowered
      and bloomed, and soon I could not help but be all-consumed. Maybe I’m bi, I thought,
      That isn’t so bad. More options for dating, how can I be mad? I told my friend my feelings, and as
      expected, for me she had none. She’s still one of my best friends, so I’d neither lost nor won.

      I dealt with the rejection and moved on. I could still be bi, better not
      jump the gun. You can’t take back coming out, you’ve got one shot – nail it
      and be done. I thought everything would be the same, but the floodgates were open,
      my restraints had been broken. I could finally be honest about my feelings
      for women (endless, confusing and interwoven) and for men, which were at most
      an appreciative token.

      A week after confessing to my crush, it was obvious
      who won. The Sapphic feelings and desires made
      their presence known, their intent to stay,
      and more difficult than coming out
      as trans was admitting
      to being gay.

      15 votes
    14. Behind the Teeth

      always seem happy and dandy and talk of love and romance a riven smile on the face to hide thoughts of pain for her, everything has a verse a waltz at each step a flimsy variety of beauty that...

      always seem happy and dandy
      and talk of love and romance
      a riven smile on the face
      to hide thoughts of pain

      for her, everything has a verse
      a waltz at each step
      a flimsy variety of beauty
      that melts after rehearse

      huge hipster glasses
      coffee without any taste
      a window facing concrete
      is now hummingbirds enlaced

      and when she sings all her love
      I am always in disbelief
      cause when someone shouts too much
      I sense a hooded grief

      2 votes
    15. Infatuation Mishap

      You were smart and pretty and praised every word I said Responded to my commands like a very well-trained basset You gave me food, shelter, affection in bed, you did as I pleased and such strong...

      You were smart and pretty
      and praised every word I said

      Responded to my commands
      like a very well-trained basset

      You gave me food, shelter, affection
      in bed, you did as I pleased
      and such strong devotion
      was hard for me to receive

      Cause how could I trust someone
      who clearly and truly loves me?

      6 votes
    16. Love Mania

      In this grass where we sit, I saw many full moons lit Kissed them shivering in the wind, felt like solution, formed decision, ultimate end But the frenzy always fades, pretty mirage in the haze...

      In this grass where we sit,
      I saw many full moons lit

      Kissed them shivering in the wind,
      felt like solution, formed decision, ultimate end

      But the frenzy always fades,
      pretty mirage in the haze

      Silly me...

      I just met you yesterday
      And once again tremble my veins

      4 votes