banditrevolver Posted August 14, 2007 Share Posted August 14, 2007 Do you remember still the falling starsthat like swift horses through the heavens racedand suddenly leaped across the hurdlesof our wishes--do you recall? And wedid make so many. For there were countless numbersof stars: each time we looked above we wereastounded by the swiftness of their daring play,while in our hearts we felt safe and securewatching these brilliant bodies disintegrate,knowing somehow we had survived their fall. Rainer Maria Rilke Quote Link to comment
neville Posted August 14, 2007 Share Posted August 14, 2007 Somewhere I Have Never Travelled E. E. Cummings somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyondany experience, your eyes have their silence:in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,or which i cannot touch because they are too nearyour slightest look easily will unclose methough i have closed myself as fingers,you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose or if your wish be to close me, i andmy life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,as when the heart of this flower imaginesthe snow carefully everywhere descending;nothing which we are to preceive in this world equalsthe power of you intense fragility: whose texturecompels me with the color of its countries,rendering death and forever with each breathing (i do not know what it is about you that closesand opens; only something in me understandsthe voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands :flowers: hahaha, ako ito rin ang boto ko! Quote Link to comment
Guest bleeding_angel Posted August 15, 2007 Share Posted August 15, 2007 (edited) Leaves-Sara Teasdale One by one, like leaves from a treeAll my faiths have forsaken me;But the stars above my headBurn in white and delicate red,And beneath my feet the earthBrings the sturdy grass to birth.I who was content to beBut a silken-singing tree,But a rustle of delightIn the wistful heart of night--I have lost the leaves that knewTouch of rain and weight of dew.Blinded by a leafy crownI looked neither up nor down--But the little leaves that dieHave left me room to see the sky;Now for the first timeI know Stars above and earth below. Edited August 15, 2007 by bleeding_angel Quote Link to comment
Guest bleeding_angel Posted August 15, 2007 Share Posted August 15, 2007 But Not To Me-Sara Teasdale The April night is still and sweetWith flowers on every tree;Peace comes to them on quiet feet,But not to me. My peace is hidden in his breastWhere I shall never be,Love comes to-night to all the rest,But not to me. Quote Link to comment
reix Posted August 16, 2007 Share Posted August 16, 2007 What is the sound of one heart breaking? It is the sound of someone curled up in a tiny ball crying softly in the night, the sound of the first unwanted teardrop touching your skin, its the sound of the telephone that does'nt ring, the sound of regret pounding inside your brain with every heartbeat, its the whispers of the toy animals he gave you. Its the shuffling of the feet walking away from you, the sound of your soul shattering into a million pieces at recognizing the word "goodbye", its the soundtrack of memories torturing you, its the sound of feeble hands trying to push you back the obstinate hands of time, its the sound of a cherub's dying breath, the sound of all those years disappering in the vortex of Cupid's kitchen sink, its the unrelenting, plaintive baby meows of an abondoned kitten outside an ignoring door. Its the sound of the rain that doesnt ever stop, the sound of all the doors in the world shutting and closing in your face at the same time, of raging,howling storms in the night when theres no one there to hold you,the sound of your voice as it screams back at you, the echo of "i love yous" burning holes in you, the sound your heart makes as it tells you to lie still because nothing you will ever do will matter without love. The sound of things in your room being thrown aaround and landing on the floor, the caress of sharpened kitchen knives on the skin, the sound your throat makes as you swallow your saltiest tear. Its the sound of your voice calling out to someone who isnt there, of winged creatures dying and falling on a city pavement, of terms of endearment used hundred times a days struggling to crawl into a vacuum of forgetfulness, its the sound of your sobs keeping you company, its the cold, uncaring stillness of the air you share your space with. Destruction isnt always as noisy as bombs exploding. Sometimes the ultimate catastrophes are as quiet as a feather falling on the floor of a Zen monastery. No one else can hear your heart breaking except you. Quote Link to comment
molato Posted August 17, 2007 Share Posted August 17, 2007 without pretensions, i just love this poem. enough said, lest i ruin it. Pablo Neruda - XVII (I do not love you...) I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never bloomsbut carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you,so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep. Quote Link to comment
little_devil Posted August 17, 2007 Share Posted August 17, 2007 SOLTERA Tinatanong mo pa rin hanggang ngayonkung bakit hindi pa ako nag-aasawa.Sa pagkakataong ito, hindi na ako natawa.Luminga akong naghahanap ng mga sagot:Baka nakalista sa aking mga tula.Baka nakaguhit sa aking mga pintura.Baka nakaeksena sa aking mga pelikula.Pinilit kong tandaankung ito ba ang pinagpilian:ang kamera kaysa sa kaserola,ang kanbas kaysa sa kuna,ang talinghaga kaysa sa asawa. Tinatanong mo pa rin hanggang ngayonkung bakit wala pa rin akong kasama.Kahit kelan hindi ko inisipna ang pag-iisaay isang sumpa.Hindi na muna ako lilinga,magtanong ka man isang beses pa.Baka ang darating na sagot ay matagal pa. - Vivian N. Limpin Quote Link to comment
Guest freyja Posted August 18, 2007 Share Posted August 18, 2007 After Great Pain, A Formal Feeling Comes Emily Dickinson. After great pain, a formal feeling comesThe Nerves sit ceremonious, like TombsThe stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,And Yesterday, or Centuries before? The Feet, mechanical, go roundOf Ground, or Air, or OughtA Wooden wayRegardless grown,A Quartz contentment, like a stone This is the Hour of LeadRemembered, if outlived,As Freezing persons recollect the SnowFirst-Chill-then Stupor-then the letting go Quote Link to comment
naked_angel Posted August 19, 2007 Share Posted August 19, 2007 variations on the word "sleep"margaret atwood i would like to watch you sleeping,which may not happen.i would like to watch you,sleeping. i would like tosleep with you, to enteryour sleep as its smooth dark waveslides over my head and walk with you through that lucentwavering forest of bluegreen leaveswith its watery sun and three moonstowards the cave where you must descend,towards your worst fear i would like to give youthe silver branch,the small white flower,the one word that will protect youfrom the grief at the centerof your dream, from the griefat the center. i would like to followyou up the long stairwayagain and becomethe boat that would row you backcarefully, a flamein two cupped handsto where your body liesbeside me, and you enter itas easily as breathing ini would like to be the airthat inhabits you for a momentonly. i would like to be that unnoticedand that necessary. Quote Link to comment
naked_angel Posted August 19, 2007 Share Posted August 19, 2007 variations on the word love this is a word we use to plugholes with. it's the right size for those warmblanks in speech, for those red heart-shaped vacancies on the page that look nothinglike real hearts. add laceand you can sellit. we insert it also in the one emptyspace on the printed formthat comes with no instructions. there are wholemagazines with not much in thembut the word love, you canrub it all over your body and youcan cook with it too. How do we knowit isn't what goes on at the cooldebaucheries of slugs under damppieces of cardboard? As for the weed-seedlings nosing their tough snouts upamong the lettuces, they shout it.Love! Love! sing the soldiers, raisingtheir glittering knives in salute. then there's the twoof us. this wordis far too short for us, it has onlyfour letters, too sparseto fill those deep barevacuums between the starsthat press on us with their deafness.it's not love we don't wishto fall into, but that fear.this word is not enough but it willhave to do. it's a singlevowel in this metallicsilence, a mouth that sayso again and again in wonderand pain, a breath, a fingergrip on a cliffside. you canhold on or let go. Quote Link to comment
poppinfresh2k5 Posted August 28, 2007 Share Posted August 28, 2007 Tonight I can write the saddest lines Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example,'The night is shatteredand the blue stars shiver in the distance.' The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines.I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I held her in my armsI kissed her again and again under the endless sky. She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.How could one not have loved her great still eyes. Tonight I can write the saddest lines.To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her. To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture. What does it matter that my love could not keep her.The night is shattered and she is not with me. This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her. My sight searches for her as though to go to her.My heart looks for her, and she is not with me. The same night whitening the same trees.We, of that time, are no longer the same. I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing. Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.Her voide. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes. I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her. Love is so short, forgetting is so long. Because through nights like this one I held her in my armsmy sould is not satisfied that it has lost her. Though this be the last pain that she makes me sufferand these the last verses that I write for her. Pablo Neruda Quote Link to comment
poppinfresh2k5 Posted September 5, 2007 Share Posted September 5, 2007 Where the Sidewalk Ends There is a place where the sidewalk endsAnd before the street begins,And there the grass grows soft and white,And there the sun burns crimson bright,And there the moon-bird rests from his flightTo cool in the peppermint wind. Let us leave this place where the smoke blows blackAnd the dark street winds and bends.Past the pits where the asphalt flowers growWe shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,And watch where the chalk-white arrows goTo the place where the sidewalk ends. Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,For the children, they mark, and the children, they knowThe place where the sidewalk ends. Shel Silverstein Quote Link to comment
dakota Posted September 6, 2007 Share Posted September 6, 2007 The Charge Of The Light Brigade by Alfred, Lord Tennyson Half a league half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred: 'Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns' he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. 'Forward, the Light Brigade!' Was there a man dismay'd ? Not tho' the soldier knew Some one had blunder'd: Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do & die, Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volley'd & thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred. Flash'd all their sabres bare, Flash'd as they turn'd in air Sabring the gunners there, Charging an army while All the world wonder'd: Plunged in the battery-smoke Right thro' the line they broke; Cossack & Russian Reel'd from the sabre-stroke,Shatter'd & sunder'd. Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and shell, While horse & hero fell, They that had fought so well Came thro' the jaws of Death, Back from the mouth of Hell, All that was left of them, Left of six hundred. When can their glory fade? O the wild charge they made! All the world wonder'd. Honour the charge they made! Honour the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred! Quote Link to comment
melancholic Posted September 6, 2007 Share Posted September 6, 2007 She is... A certified neck twisterA retina super glueNeed a day brighter?See her for a second or two A wormhole in spaceTo a world of fantasyReality she will glaceWith such surreal beauty A witch by natureNot by powers unknownBut by her charm and lureSpells none can bemoan A mysterious FairyShe glows sublimelyWith eyes so dazzlingAnd lips so tempting A happy thoughtMy Happy thoughtTo fly to never landWhere I can hold her hand Quote Link to comment
nuggetable Posted September 6, 2007 Share Posted September 6, 2007 DULCE ET DECORUM EST1 Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares2 we turned our backs And towards our distant rest3 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 hoots4 Of tired, outstripped5 Five-Nines6 that dropped behind. Gas!7 Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling, Fitting the clumsy helmets8 just in time; But someone still was yelling out and stumbling, And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime9 . . . Dim, through the misty panes10 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,11 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 cud12 Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, My friend, you would not tell with such high zest13 To children ardent14 for some desperate glory, The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est Pro patria mori War sucks !!!!!!!!!! Quote Link to comment
Guest freyja Posted September 6, 2007 Share Posted September 6, 2007 Oh, when I was in love with youby A. E. Housman OH, when I was in love with you, Then I was clean and brave, And miles around the wonder grew How well did I behave. And now the fancy passes by, And nothing will remain, And miles around they ’ll say that I Am quite myself again. Quote Link to comment
Mobius Stripper Posted September 10, 2007 Share Posted September 10, 2007 Butterfly KissesBob Carlisle There's two things I know for sureShe was sent here from Heaven And she's daddy's little girlAs I drop to my knees by her bed at nightShe talks to Jesus and I close my eyesAnd I thank God for all of the joy in my lifeOh but most of all For butterlfy kisses after bedtime prayerStickin little white flowers all up in her hairWalk beside the pony dadyIt's my first rideI know the cake looks funny daddyBut I sure triedOh with all that I've done wrong I must have done something rightTo deseve a hug every mornin And butterfly kisses at night Sweet 16 todayShe's lookin like her mama A little more every dayOne part womanThe other part girlTo perfume and make upFrom ribbons and curlsTrying her wongs out in a great big worldBut I remember Butterlfy kisses after bedtime prayerStickin little white flowers all up in her hairYou know how much I love you dadyBut if you don't mindI'm only gonna kiss you on the check this timeOh with all that I've done wrong I must have done something rightTo deserve her love every mornin And butterfly kisses at night All the precious timeLike the wind the years go byPrecious ButterflySpread your wings and fly She'll change her name todayShe'll make a promise and I'll give her awayStanding in the bride room just starin at herShe asked me what I'm thinkinAnd I said I'm not sureI just feel like I'm losin my baby girlAnd she leaned over And gave me butterfly kisses with her mama thereStickin little white flowers all up in her hairWalk me down the aisle daddy It's just about timeDoes my wedding gown look pretty daddy?Daddies don't cryOh with all that I've done wrongI must have done something rightTo deserve her love every mornin and butterfly kissesI couldn't ask God for more than this is what love isI know I've got to let her go but I'll always rememberEvery hug in the mornin and butterly kisses Quote Link to comment
melancholic Posted September 10, 2007 Share Posted September 10, 2007 Veiled Let me write the cries of my heartUnder this once clear sky reigned by the StarHer light shies away as darkness tears me apartMay a drop of Moon's tears turn my wound to scar I prayed unto the Wind of whose touch I am numbBut my shouts were heard only by the void aroundThe ground I walk on, dried tears turned to crumbThe answers I hear is silence's eery sound A question hidden deep and hopeless quest for answersI shall live in this dream, pleading for night to stayThis night my heart cries shedding tears in lettersUnheard yet immortalized by every pencil sway The Star may have hidden but my eyes still seeThe clouds moving together, or perhaps moving fartherWherever they go, the light of the Star far above meShall be kept within my heart in this endless night - forever -Melancholic Quote Link to comment
naked_angel Posted September 17, 2007 Share Posted September 17, 2007 under the oakd.h. lawrence You, if you were sensible,When I tell you the stars flash signals, each one dreadful,You would not turn and answer me“The night is wonderful.” Even you, if you knewHow this darkness soaks me through and through, and infusesUnholy fear in my vapour, you would pause to distinguishWhat hurts, from what amuses. For I tell youBeneath this powerful tree, my whole soul’s fluidOozes away from me as a sacrifice steamAt the knife of a Druid. Again I tell you, I bleed, I am bound with withies,My life runs out.I tell you my blood runs out on the floor of this oak,Gout upon gout. Above me springs the blood-born mistletoeIn the shady smoke.But who are you, twittering to and froBeneath the oak? What thing better are you, what worse?What have you to do with the mysteriesOf this ancient place, of my ancient curse?What place have you in my histories? Quote Link to comment
Mobius Stripper Posted September 19, 2007 Share Posted September 19, 2007 In the cornerOf my eyeI saw you at Rudy'sYou were very highYou were highIt was a cryin' disgraceThey saw your face On the counterBy your keysWas a book of numbersAnd your remediesOne of theseSurely will screen out the sorrowBut where are you tomorrow? I can't cry anymoreWhile you run aroundBreak awayJust when itSeems so clearThat it'sOver nowDrink your big black cowAnd get out of here Down to Greene streetThere you goLookin' so outrageousAnd they tell you soYou should knowHow all the pros play the gameYou change your name Like a gangsterOn the runYou will stagger homewardTo your precious oneI'm the oneWho must make everything rightTalk it out till daylight I dont care anymoreWhy you run aroundBreak awayJust when itSeems so clearThat it'sOver nowDrink your big black cowAnd get out of here Quote Link to comment
naked_angel Posted October 1, 2007 Share Posted October 1, 2007 there is only one storyerica jong there is only one story:he loved her,then stopped loving her,while she did notstop loving him. there is only one story:she loved him,then stopped loving him,while he did notstop loving her. the truth is simple:you do not diefrom love. you only wishyou did Quote Link to comment
Raoul Posted October 6, 2007 Share Posted October 6, 2007 Another Monday, Two Months LaterRod McKuen Now I have the timeto take you riding in the carto lie with you in private desertsor eat with you in public restaurants. Now I have the timefor football all fall longand to apologizefor little lies and big liestold when there was no timeto explain the truth. I am finishedwith whatever taskskept me from walkingin the woods with youor leaping in the Zanford sand. I have so much timethat I can build for yousand castles out of mortar. Now I have the timeto see bad moviesand read bad booksaloud to you.I can now waste timeon you and on myself. Mid-week picnics.Minding my temper in traffic.Washing your backand cleaning out my closets.Staying in bed with youlong past the rush hourand the pangs of hunger.And listeningto the story of your lifein deadly detailwhatever time it takesI have that time. I've always wantedto watch flowers openall the way,however long the process took. I'd hoped that I mighttake you travelingdown the blockor to wherever,now I have the time. Now I have the timeto be boredto be deliveredto be patientto be understanding,to give youall the time you need. Now I have the time.Where are you? Quote Link to comment
sha79 Posted October 9, 2007 Share Posted October 9, 2007 (edited) The force of love when it hits youcould render you unconsciousand what then of greater loveit is most imminent deathgravity lets you goand you are no longer the raindropbut the ocean itselfsounds drift away and blend with seagullsthere is nothing but for THAT.THAT is all there is. i have bled my heart of color and offeredyou each artery, pallid and trembling with lifei have carved cells from my spleenI have baptized the mangos with my tears of devotionand fed them to you like firei have felt you breathe into meom Shiva, i will exhale your glance. i have seen you ferocious and staggering likea pack of rabid wolves consumed by nothingnessi have seen you birth universes by your willand take last breaths to the edge of paradisei have seen the sun seduced by your gloryand the moon reduced to tears by your furyi have seen you weep with all the strength of oceansi have seen you shriek like the force of will itselfmy terror, my beauty, my all, my selfi have torn it all apart at the seams what do i have left to give you? -Kalliope Amorphous Edited October 9, 2007 by sha79 Quote Link to comment
nuggetable Posted October 9, 2007 Share Posted October 9, 2007 there is only one storyerica jong there is only one story:he loved her,then stopped loving her,while she did notstop loving him. there is only one story:she loved him,then stopped loving him,while he did notstop loving her. the truth is simple:you do not diefrom love. you only wishyou did First time I've come across this; WOW, nailed it !!! beautiful, tragic, heart rending and gloriously simple.......... Quote Link to comment
DonImus Posted October 9, 2007 Share Posted October 9, 2007 Someone sent me this...The Teak Forest ... Quote Link to comment
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