What Poetry Moved You?

[cocoy0]

Jim Libiran and Lourd De Veyra reading Pete Lacaba's poems on the radio.

[TheBlackDahlia]

Desiderata

[immatureandunstable]

Lumbay

Roland Tinio

 

Nalulumbay ang puno ng goma sa gilid ng bulibard

At ang puno ng akasya sa likod ng goma.

Mukhang uulan sa buong mundo.

Wala na ang mahal ko, iniwanan ako.

 

Nalulumbay ang tubig na laging kulay-abo

At ang tatlong bapor na kulay-kalawang sa laot,

At sa likod, ang ulap na parang tinggang natunaw.

Wala na ang mahal ko, iniwanan ako.

 

Nakatungo ang mga dahon ng niyog,

Marahang pakampay-kampay

Sa hanging humahampas, naglalarong

Anaki’y mga batang walang kamalay-malay

Sa talas-kutsilyo, talas-labaha ng lumbay.

 

At naalala ko ang isang awit na puno ng hinagpis,

Parang sugat na humahapdi, lalong tinitistis.

At naalala ko ang wala nang mahal ko

Na naparaan sa aking mundo,

Parang ulap na bumitin nang ilang saglit,

Saka nagpatuloy sa maraming lakad sa himpapawid

At, sa tingin ko, hindi na, hindi babalik.

[yaslyn]

A fave of mine since I was 13 years old

This one has so much emotion in it, and it just conveys to the reader that ambition, power and success isn't everything in life.

 

At the tomb of Napoleon Bonaparte

by Robert Ingersoll

 

A little while ago, I stood by the grave of the old Napoleon Bonaparte, a magnificent tomb of gilt and gold, fit almost for a dead deity, and gazed upon the sarcophagus of rare and nameless marble, where rest at last the ashes of that restless man. I leaned over the balustrade and thought about the career of the greatest soldier of the modern world.

I saw him walking upon the banks of the Seine, contemplating suicide. I saw him at Toulon, I saw him putting down the mob in the streets of Paris, I saw Napolean at the head of the army of Italy, I saw him crossing the bridge of Lodi with the tricolor in his hand, I saw him in Egypt in the shadows of the pyramids, I saw him conquer the Alps and mingle the eagle of France with eagles of the crags. I saw Napolean Bonaparte at the Battle of Marengo, at Ulm and Austerlitz. I saw Napolean Bonaparte in Russia, where the infantry of the snow and the cavalry of the wild blast scattered his legions like winter's withered leaves. I saw him a Leipsic in defeat and disaster, driven by a million bayonets back upon Paris, clutched like a wild beast, banished to Elba. I saw him escape and retake an empire by the force of his genius. I saw him upon the frightful field of Waterloo, where Chance and Fate combined to wreck the fortunes of their former king. And I saw him at St. Helena, with his hands crossed behind him, gazing out upon the sand solemn sea.

 

I thought of the orphans and widows he had made, of the tears that had been shed for his glory, and of the only woman who ever loved him, pushed from his heart by the cold hand of ambition. And I said I would rather have been a French peasant and worn wooden shoes. I would rather have lived in a hut with a vine growing over the door, and the grapes growing purple in the kisses of the autumn Summer sun. I would rather have been that poor peasant with my loving wife by my side, knitting as the day died out of the sky, with my children upon my knees and thier arms about me. I would rather have been that man and gone down to the tongueless silence of the dreamless dust, than to have been that imperial impersonation of force and murder, known as "Napoleon the Great."

 

 

Edited May 29, 2012 by yaslyn

[LSP]

Number 43

Sonnets from the Portuguese

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

 

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace

I love thee to the level of everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith

I love thee with a love I seem to lose

With my lost saints, - I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

[annanicole19]

John Donne(1572-1631)

 

 

 

HOLY SONNETS. XIV.

 

Batter my heart, three-person'd God ; for you

As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;

That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend

Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.

I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,

Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.

Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,

But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.

 

Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,

But am betroth'd unto your enemy ;

Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,

Take me to you, imprison me, for I,

Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,

Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

[Leyna]

But I stayed and learned to name my thoughts,

so far they are: wanting, wanting, wanting,

wanting, wanting, wanting, wanting, wanting, judgment,

sadness.

 

Excerpt from Buddha's Dogs by Susan Browne

[dungeonbaby]

You Who Never Arrived

You who never arrived

in my arms, Beloved, who were lost

from the start,

I don't even know what songs

would please you. I have given up trying

to recognize you in the surging wave of

the next moment. All the immense

images in me -- the far-off, deeply-felt

landscape, cities, towers, and bridges, and

unsuspected turns in the path,

and those powerful lands that were once

pulsing with the life of the gods--

all rise within me to mean

you, who forever elude me.

 

You, Beloved, who are all

the gardens I have ever gazed at,

longing. An open window

in a country house-- , and you almost

stepped out, pensive, to meet me.

Streets that I chanced upon,--

you had just walked down them and vanished.

And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors

were still dizzy with your presence and,

startled, gave back my too-sudden image.

Who knows? Perhaps the same

bird echoed through both of us

yesterday, separate, in the evening...

 

Rainer Maria Rilke

Edited July 8, 2012 by dungeonbaby

[bitoy58]

"If"

By Rudyard Kipling

 

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 imposters 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 wornout tools;

 

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it 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!

[x-art]

Why do I feel like I have already died

Yet I haven't committed suicide

 

Why does my heart still beat

In this this life I don't want to keep

 

How can I breathe

When all I want to do is leave

 

Why must I be here in a world I hate

Where there is no one to whom I relate

 

Why is there nothing to gain

Will I ever see the end of this pain

 

Why do I live in this place

When I cant even bare to look at your beautiful face

 

When will I be able to fall asleep

Or will I forever weep

[Redguard45]

“Lahat ng hindi ko kailangang malaman,

natutunan ko sa pelikulang For Adults Only”

(By Jose F. Lacaba)

 

Marumi and pulitiko, pero malinis ang budhi

ng p#ta.

Ipokrito ang pari, pero may ginintuang puso

ang p#ta.

Nagpapaaral ng kapatid na magpapari

ang p#ta.

Namumutiktik sa p#tang %na at anak ng p#ta ang malaswang bibig

ng p#ta.

Nalululong sa droga ang anak

ng p#ta.

Ayaw ng p#tang %na na ang anak niyang babae’y masadlak

sa pagpuputa.

Ang unang tikim sa luto ng Diyos ay ipinapatikim

ng p#ta.

Bukas ang simbahan kahit madaling-araw tuwing magdadasal

ang p#ta.

Nagbubulungan ang mga manang na nakakasalubong

ng p#ta.

Ginahasa ng tiyuhin ang p#ta kaya siya

nagputa.

Tulak ng kahirapan kung kaya nagputa

ang p#ta.

Hindi nagpapahalik sa labi

ang p#ta.

Kapwa p#ta ang mga kabarkada

ng p#ta.

Magandang lalaki ang nag-aalay ng tapat na pag-ibig

sa p#ta.

Masungit na ina ng magandang lalaki ang nag-aalok ng pera

para lumayo

ang p#ta.

Kung binabaril ang bidang lalaki, yumayakap at tinatamaan

ang p#ta.

Tanging kamatayan ang tutubos at magpapatawad sa kaputahan

ng p#ta.

Sigaw ng p#ta: Pare-pareho naman tayong

p#ta!

[dungeonbaby]

this is for all of you who are lovelorn, a poem that moved me when i was so much younger, and needing to move on.

I loved you -- and my love, I think, was stronger

Than to be quite extinct within me yet;

But let it not distress you any longer,

I would not have you feel the least regret.

I loved you bare of hope and of expression,

By turns with jealousy and shyness sore;

I loved you with such purity, such passion

As may God grant you to be loved once more.

 

- Alexander Pushkin

[LostCommand]

Out of the night that covers me

Black as the Pit form pole to pole

I thanks whatever gods may be

for my unconquerable soul

 

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud

Under the bludgeonings of chance

my head is bloody yet unbowed

 

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the horror of the shade

yet the menace of the years

finds, and shall ever find me, unafraid

 

It matters not how straight the Gate

how charged with punishment the scroll

I am the master of my fate

I am the captain of my soul!

 

-Invictus

[peterdgreat]

Invictus because it inspires

[Paolo G]

The Road Not Taken