Itto Ogami Posted February 7, 2010 Share Posted February 7, 2010 todo pasa y todo quedapero lo nuestro es pasarpasar haciendo caminoscaminos sobre la mar. -joan manuel serrat saw this posted @ one of the coaches of LRT2 Quote Link to comment
Leyna Posted February 16, 2010 Share Posted February 16, 2010 Mad Girl’s Love Song by Sylvia Plath “I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my lids and all is born again. (I think I made you up inside my head.) The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, And arbitrary blackness gallops in: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. (I think I made you up inside my head.) God topples from the sky, hell’s fires fade: Exit seraphim and Satan’s men: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I fancied you’d return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.) I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)” - one of my favorites <3 Quote Link to comment
ZO9zaa Posted March 15, 2010 Share Posted March 15, 2010 Dreams (by Langston Hughes) Hold fast to dreamsFor if dreams dieLife is a broken-winged birdThat cannot fly.Hold fast to dreamsFor when dreams goLife is a barren fieldFrozen with snow Quote Link to comment
Itto Ogami Posted March 16, 2010 Share Posted March 16, 2010 todo pasa y todo quedapero lo nuestro es pasarpasar haciendo caminoscaminos sobre la mar. -joan manuel serrat saw this posted @ one of the coaches of LRT2 lahat ay dadaan at lahat ay maiiwanngunit lahat ay dadaandadaang gumagawa ng daanandaanan sa ibabaw ng karagatan Quote Link to comment
Guest biancaanne Posted March 16, 2010 Share Posted March 16, 2010 (edited) Here Is A Wound That Never Will Heal, I Know Here is a wound that never will heal, I know, Being wrought not of a dearness and a death, But of a love turned ashes and the breath Gone out of beauty; never again will grow The grass on that scarred acre, though I sow Young seed there yearly and the sky bequeath Its friendly weathers down, far Underneath Shall be such bitterness of an old woe. That April should be shattered by a gust, That August should be levelled by a rain, I can endure, and that the lifted dust Of man should settle to the earth again; But that a dream can die, will be a thrust Between my ribs forever of hot pain. -Edna St. Vincent Millay Edited March 16, 2010 by biancaanne Quote Link to comment
lemon Posted March 26, 2010 Share Posted March 26, 2010 it's all i have to bring todaythis, and my heart besidethis, and my heart, and all the fieldsand all the meadows widebe sure you count – should i forgetsome one the sum could tellthis, and my heart, and all the beeswhich in the clover dwell. it's been a while since i posted one for you here... nope, not original, this one's from weird emily. :* Quote Link to comment
Leyna Posted March 26, 2010 Share Posted March 26, 2010 I say that I won't touch you.But my fingers are liars.I tell you how I won't hold you.But my arms are going to hell.I promise I won't kiss you.But my lips break it.I let you know that I won't love you.But my heart has no conscience. And no part of me will apologise. Quote Link to comment
Leyna Posted April 2, 2010 Share Posted April 2, 2010 I can follow your soulin the curve and swerve of your skinas my fingertips trace the flow of your bloodthrough limbs, so warm, and soft, and fragrantthat I barely (rarely) complete the traceryfor I must breathe and I dare notwhile touching youfor fear that so heavy is my soulthat you would blow awaylike dandelion seeds on the winds of twilightwhich is when I most desire you ~ unknown Quote Link to comment
ZO9zaa Posted April 3, 2010 Share Posted April 3, 2010 I Choose the Mountain(by Howard Simon) The low lands callI am tempted to answerThey are offering me a free dwelling Without having to conquer The massive mountain makes its moveBeckoning me to ascendA much more difficult pathTo get up the slippery bend I cannot choose both I have a choice to makeI must be wiseThis will determine my fate I choose, I choose the mountainWith all its stress and strainBecause only by climbingCan I rise above the plane I choose the mountain And I will never stop climbingI choose the mountainAnd I shall forever be ascending I choose the mountain Quote Link to comment
maniaclara Posted April 7, 2010 Share Posted April 7, 2010 i don't have this poem memorized, but it is by far the one poem that really caught my attention and moved me. it is from Leo Buscaglia's book entitled Living, Loving and Learning. here's to Michelle... I Am Neither A Sacrilege Or A Privilege. I May Not Be Competent or Excellent, But I Am Present My happiness is me, not you.Not only because you may be temporary,But also because you want me to be what I am not.I cannot be happy when I changeMerely to satisfy your selfishness.Nor can I feel content when you critize me for notthinking your thoughts,Or for seeing like you do.You call me a rebel.And yet each time I have rejected your beliefsYou have rebelled against mine.I do not try to mold your mind.I know you are trying hard enough to be just you.And I cannot allow you to tell me what to be -For I am concentrating on being me.You said that I was transparentAnd easily forgotten.But why then did you try to use my lifetime,To prove to yourself who you are? Quote Link to comment
Leyna Posted April 19, 2010 Share Posted April 19, 2010 Remember, Body by C. P. Cavafy Translated by Aliki Barnstone Body, remember not only how much you were loved, not only the beds where you lay, but also those desires for you,shining clearly in eyes and trembling in a voice—and some chance obstacle thwarted them. Now when everything is the past, it almost looks as if you gave yourself to those desires as well—how they shone—remember—in the eyes that looked at you, how they trembled for you in the voice—remember, body. Quote Link to comment
Guest biancaanne Posted April 27, 2010 Share Posted April 27, 2010 (edited) A Better Ressurection I have no wit, no words, no tears;My heart within me like a stoneIs numbed too much for hopes or fears.Look right, look left, I dwell alone;I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with griefNo everlasting hills I see;My life is in the falling leaf:O Jesus, quicken me. My life is like a faded leaf,My harvest dwindled to a husk:Truly my life is void and briefAnd tedious in the barren dusk;My life is like a frozen thing,No bud nor greenness can I see:Yet rise it shall--the sap of spring;O Jesus, rise in me. My life is like a broken bowl,A broken bowl that cannot holdOne drop of water for my soulOr cordial in the searching cold;Cast in the fire the perished thing;Melt and remould it, till it beA royal cup for Him, my King:O Jesus, drink of me. Christina Georgina Rossetti Edited April 27, 2010 by biancaanne Quote Link to comment
Guest biancaanne Posted May 4, 2010 Share Posted May 4, 2010 They Went Home They went home and told their wives,that never once in all their lives,had they known a girl like me,But... They went home. They said my house was licking clean,no word I spoke was ever mean,I had an air of mystery,But... They went home. My praises were on all men's lips,they liked my smile, my wit, my hips,they'd spend one night, or two or three.But... Maya Angelou Quote Link to comment
Itto Ogami Posted May 4, 2010 Share Posted May 4, 2010 DESIDERATAMax Ehrmann (1920s) Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender,be on good terms with all persons.Speak your truth quietly and clearly;and listen to others,even to the dull and the ignorant;they too have their story.Avoid loud and aggressive persons;they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others,you may become vain or bitter,for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.Keep interested in your own career, however humble;it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs,for the world is full of trickery.But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;many persons strive for high ideals,and everywhere life is full of heroism.Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.Neither be cynical about love,for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,it is as perennial as the grass. Take kindly the counsel of the years,gracefully surrendering the things of youth.Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline,be gentle with yourself.You are a child of the universeno less than the trees and the stars;you have a right to be here.And whether or not it is clear to you,no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God,whatever you conceive Him to be.And whatever your labors and aspirations,in the noisy confusion of life,keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,it is still a beautiful world.Be cheerful. Strive to be happy. Quote Link to comment
violetvixen17 Posted May 21, 2010 Share Posted May 21, 2010 I posted this somewhere, damn I forgot where. Forgot the author too, but I memorized this one by heart years ago. It remain one of my favorites.This one goes out to the forgotten soldiers out there who belong to another age, yet go about their duties here and now because it is not in them to do otherwise. May you recover the Shards of Eternity that are hidden within these blasted and broken mortal realms, and in putting these together, may you realize that victory is inevitable, even if it was not given to you to see it. ######################## Over the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to poleI thank whatever Gods may befor my unconquerable soul In the fell clutch of CircumstanceI have not winced nor cried aloudUnder the bludgeonings of Chancemy head is bloody buy unbowed Beyond this place of wrath and tearslooms but the horrors of the ShadeYet the menace of the years findsand shall find me unafraid It matters not how straight the gateHow charged with punishment the scrollI am the master of my fateI am the captain of my soul ############################# Minemorize ko din yan nung high school. The title of the poem is Invictus by William Earnest Henley. Quote Link to comment
violetvixen17 Posted May 21, 2010 Share Posted May 21, 2010 Ung mga poems na memorable ay ung Don't Quit at Desiderata back in CAT days.. i have to memorize these poems by heart kundi lagot.. hehe Quote Link to comment
Leyna Posted May 22, 2010 Share Posted May 22, 2010 I wonder if he knowsI wonder if he knowshow much I misshim or if he knowshow many times mythoughts will turn tohim during the day,leaving a smileon my face anda glow from deep withinwhile my heart racesas memories seemto flash, taking over mymind leaving my skinflushed and warmto the touch,my eyes suddenlyglisten brightwith tears as the soundof his voice seemsto reach out tome, caressing me,soothing me, touchingmy heart while breathinglife into my soulin the way that onlyhe can I wonder if he knows…~M 1 Quote Link to comment
Lord Superb Posted June 1, 2010 Share Posted June 1, 2010 (edited) This is perhaps my favorite Bertrand Russell poem dedicated to Edith Finch, his fourth and last wife. Through the long yearsI sought peace.I found ecstasy, I found anguishI found madness,I found loneliness.I found the solitary painThat gnaws the heart,But peace I did not find. Now, old and near my end,I have known you,And, knowing you,I have found both ecstasy and peace.I know rest.After so many lonely years,I know what life and love may be.Now, if I sleep,I shall sleep fulfilled. Edited June 1, 2010 by Lord Superb Quote Link to comment
maldita_overload Posted June 3, 2010 Share Posted June 3, 2010 The Grave No One Tended The day was lovely as I strolled alongpeering at stones on the way,And that's when I saw it, that pitiful crossthat looked splintered and faded away.With flowers in hand to tend Father's grave,I knew I must hurry along.But I couldn't help but linger whileat that cross that just didn't belong.The date on the front confirmed my suspicionsof what I already knew.A child lay beneath that horrible cross and its faded color of blue.What selfish parents they must have been,to bury their child all alone,Without flowers or candles to light the nightand not even a simple headstone.I looked even closer at that awful crossthat was nearly splintered away.And there on the back,I read the words that changed me forever that day."This cross isn't grand, but it was carved by my handsso you'll know, son, how much I care.It's the color of blue to remind me of youand how painful it is I'm not there,That it's you who is gone and it's me living onwhile your young life has come to an end.And left alone, never again with a homeand a grave that's to painful to tend."Tears stung my eyes as I looked all aroundat the monuments that ragged cross put to shame.And I shared with those parents their horrible lossthat brought them such terrible pain.And all of the tombstones, some even taller than mesuddenly seemed small in a way,Next to that little handmade cross, carved with such loveand the flowers I planted that day.By Cheryl L. Costello-Forshey Quote Link to comment
zolber Posted June 8, 2010 Share Posted June 8, 2010 Wiliam Wordsworth's "She Was a Phantom of Delight" should move every man who has loved a perfect woman. These are my favorite lines: A perfect Woman, nobly planned,To warm, to comfort, and command; Quote Link to comment
Itto Ogami Posted June 14, 2010 Share Posted June 14, 2010 Faith, mighty faith, the promise sees,And looks to God alone;Laughs at impossibilities,And cries it shall be done. -Charles Wesley Quote Link to comment
Itto Ogami Posted June 14, 2010 Share Posted June 14, 2010 Open my ears,that I may hear voices of truth Thou sendest clear;And while the wave-notes fall on my ear,everything false will disappear. -Anon Quote Link to comment
Lord Superb Posted June 15, 2010 Share Posted June 15, 2010 Dulce et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen 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 tired, outstripped Five-Nines 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 flound'ring 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. I love the vivid imagery in this one. Quote Link to comment
naked_angel Posted July 18, 2010 Share Posted July 18, 2010 what we wantlinda pastan what we wantis never simple.we move among the thingswe thought we wanted:a face, a room, an open bookand these things bear our names—now they want us.but what we want appearsin dreams, wearing disguises.we fall past,holding out our armsand in the morningour arms ache.we don't remember the dream,but the dream remembers us.it is there all dayas an animal is thereunder the table,as the stars are there Quote Link to comment
chantal777 Posted August 15, 2010 Share Posted August 15, 2010 (edited) My sister inserted this poem in the black Moleskine planner she gave me for Christmas. I think that this poem is a fitting message to kick off a new year -- the "steady movement toward self-transcendence" as one critic puts it. This poem, upon study and reflection, also has an "Inception" feel to it (which is one of my favorite films, by the way). The "Inception" feel is not borne solely by the "waking" and "sleeping" but rather the numerous paradoxes presented and the circular effect these paradoxes produce (as a paradox is 2 opposing ideas combined to come up with an entirely new idea). Enjoy! "The Waking" I wake to sleep and take my waking slow. I feel my fate in what I cannot fear. I learn by going where I have to go. We think by feeling. What is there to know?I hear my being dance from ear to ear. I wake to sleep and take my waking slow. Of those close beside me, which are you?God bless the ground! I shall walk softly there. And learn by going where I have to go. Light takes the tree; but who can tell us how?The lovely worm climbs up a winding stair;I wake to sleep and take my waking slow. Great creature has another thing to doTo you and me; so take the lively air,And, lovely, learn by going where to go. This shaking keeps me steady. I should know. What falls away is always. And is near. I wake to sleep and take my waking slow. I learn by going where I have to go. -- Theodore Roethke --P.S. For a more thorough analysis of the poem, visit: http://www.mrbauld.com/roethwak.html Edited August 15, 2010 by chantal777 Quote Link to comment
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