What Poetry Moved You?

[revi]

The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe:

 

Just some lines:

 

Once upon a midnight dreary while I pondered weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore ---

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamer door ---

"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door ---

Only this and nothing more."

 

.. But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word,* as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing farther he uttered -- not a feather he fluttered --

Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before --

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."

The the bird said, "Nevermore."

 

*This word is Nevermore

[floatingchords]

:cool: this one.... the previously posted Tonight I can write the saddest lines by Pablo Neruda

[alex_the_great]

POETRY

-PABLO NERUDA

 

And it was at that age...Poetry arrived

in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where

it came from, from winter or a river.

I don't know how or when,

no, they were not voices, they were not

words, nor silence,

but from a street I was summoned,

from the branches of night,

abruptly from the others,

among violent fires

or returning alone,

there I was without a face

and it touched me.

 

I did not know what to say, my mouth

had no way

with names

my eyes were blind,

and something started in my soul,

fever or forgotten wings,

and I made my own way,

deciphering

that fire

and I wrote the first faint line,

faint, without substance, pure

nonsense,

pure wisdom

of someone who knows nothing,

and suddenly I saw

the heavens

unfastened

and open,

planets,

palpitating planations,

shadow perforated,

riddled

with arrows, fire and flowers,

the winding night, the universe.

 

And I, infinitesmal being,

drunk with the great starry

void,

likeness, image of

mystery,

I felt myself a pure part

of the abyss,

I wheeled with the stars,

my heart broke free on the open sky.

[charlize]

pablo neruda's poetry is pure music... there seems to be an orchestra playing in the background when you read his poems

[Apollo]

LIVING GRAVES

by George Bernard Shaw

 

We are the living graves of murdered beasts

Slaughtered to satisfy our appetites

We never pause to wonder at our feasts

If animals, like men, can possibly

have rights

We pray on Sundays that we may have light

To guide our footsteps on the path we

tread

We're sick of war We do not want to

fight

The thought of it now fills our hearts with dread

And yet we gorge ourselves upon the dead

Like carrion crows we live and feed on meat

Regardless of the suffering and pain

We cause by doing so. If thus we treat

Defenseless animals for sport or gain

How can we hope in this world to attain

the PEACE we say we are so anxious for

We pray for it o'er hecatombs of slain

To God, while outraging the moral law

Thus cruelty begets its offspring: war.

George Bernard Shaw

[peacemaker8]

this poem is meant to make you smile/laugh but all that it says is true, specially when we gorw old:

 

"I used to be embarrased to make the thing behave,

For every single morning it would stand and watch me shave.

 

But now I'm growing older and it sure gives me the blues,

To have the thing hang sadly down and watch me shine my shoes."

[Apollo]

LOVE'S PHILOSOPHY

~ Percy Bysshe Shelley

 

"The fountains mingle with the river

And the rivers with the Ocean.

The winds of Heaven mix for ever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine

In one spirit meet and mingle,

Why not I with thine?-

 

See the mountains kiss high Heaven

And the waves clasp one another;

No sister-flower would be forgiven

If it disdained its brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth

And the moonbeams kiss the sea;

What is all this sweet work worth

If thou kiss not me?"

 

[Apollo]

Another verse from my most favorite bard & my most favorite play! I hope you feel the intense love respect in this moment as much as I do...

@}@}~~~~

 

ROME & JULIET, excerpt III/V

~ William Shakespeare

 

"Juliet: Then, window, let day in, and let life out.

 

Romeo: Farewell, farewell! One kiss, and I'll descend. (He goes down.)

 

Juliet: Art thou gone so, love-lord, ay husband-friend? I must hear from thee ever day in the hour, for in a minute there are many days. O, by this count I shall be much in years ere I again behold my Romeo!

 

Romeo: Farewell! I will omit no opportunity that may convey my greetings, love, to thee.

 

Juliet: O, think'st thou we shall ever meet again?

 

Romeo: I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve for sweet discourses in our times to come."

[Hottie_Babe]

Takln from the poem LIFE of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

 

May this (I cried) my course through Life portray!

New scenes of Wisdom may each step display,

And Knowledge open as my days advance!

Till what time Death shall pour the undarken'd ray,

My eye shall dart thro' infinite expanse,

And thought suspended lie in Rapture's blissful trance.

 

Pareho kaming pasaway ni Coleridge so relate ako sa kaniya. Hehehe

[Karma Policeman]

Subterranean

Eric Gamalinda

 

Let me be the first to say

that I know the name for everything

and if I don't I'll make it up:

dukkha, naufragio, talinghaga.

Just like the young

whose hearts give no shame,

I love the excesses of beauty,

there is never enough sunlight

in the world I will live in,

never enough room for love.

 

I fear none of us will last long enough

to prove what I've always suspected,

that the sky is a membrane

in an angel's skull,

trees talk to each other at night,

ice is water in a state of silence,

the embryo listens to everything we say.

 

I am afraid for the child skipping rope

on the corner of my street,

the girl on the train with flowers in her hair,

the man whose memory is entirely

in Spanish. I am more afraid of losing consciousness

when I go to sleep, and that in my sleep

I will grow old and forget how desire

once drove me mad with wakefulness.

 

Just like the perfect seasons

they will die

and I will die

and you will die also;

no one knows who will go first,

and this is the source

of all my grief.

 

Lyrics From a Dead Language

Eric Gamalinda

 

This one’s for the rose of Asia gliding down the avenidas:

that she may be young forever, and in her blood hold

suzerains and kings, be witness to the passage

of prophets, great upheavals and religions.

 

I give her my treasons and typhoons.

 

This one’s for all the thorns in the estero de la reina

and all the women combing its banks for seeds and pearls

and for the rainbows they keep on their fingertips.

 

Let all the warheads in the Pacific

be quiet for once. Christ, let no one move.

 

I, too, believe in heaven.

Not strong enough to disbelieve,

I decree myself redeemed.

 

****

 

I saw him in China,

reeling from eclipses and revolutions,

I saw him in Europe, sipping tea

with heads of state.

 

I don’t believe in salvation,

I believe only in the steel flash that shoots through my ribs

each time I walk home;

 

and always there is someone in Burkina Faso

who cannot sleep,

and the sun breaks over Manhattan,

 

and the flowers pop, pink and chalcedony,

in Japan, where they count

the fortunes and ravages of spring.

 

****

 

Twilight is an unbearable hour,

vapor and umber collude

 

and in its sticky light strange creatures

breed and spawn:

 

and the air is filled with their industrious music.

And so much of this I can give

 

only as seasons and vicissitudes!

Always I am given to some secret contraband hope

 

howling among the shipwrecked,

and you are there,

 

lost at sea, listening to the empty surf.

And so much of this is real.

 

****

 

Magpatalim ka na

Ng pangil,

Ginoong Anino!

 

Lumalapot na naman

ang liwanag ng buwan

 

at bumubukad

ang mga uyaying madidilim:

 

Ganito na lang ba

 

ang buhay: sa isang café,

sa kanto ng x at x

 

lumitaw ang mahalay

na anghel,

 

at muli, bilango ka

ng rosas,

 

ng alat,

at ng matamlay na halik.

 

Ito po

ang inyong lingkod,

____________________

{Ilagay ang lagda dito}

 

Sumusunod ka lang

sa lukso ng pulso mo,

 

Ginoong Bampira,

Ginoong Tikbalang.

 

All the Christs of the revolution

will burn tonight,

and when they do this will be my permanent address:

in one corner of the wind,

holding the world’s last rose.

 

Todos los Cristos de la revolucion!

And through the smoke, stumbling past the avenidas de amor

I want to lead you, swift as logic,

into the canyons of the moon.

 

Sweet music. And as we slither into the darkness

I will fill your mouth

with hunger and lyrics. This is no love song;

let the arrow that wounds you

be the music you remember.

 

Afterlives of the Saints

Eric Gamalinda

 

]Suppose the laws of warfare were based on miracles,

and they chained and locked the bodies of saints

so the Etruscans could not use them. Suppose

 

the best weapons did not function from belief

but custody, and those who possessed them

had, like Saint Francis, the potential of stigmata,

 

the gift of tongues. For even he was a self-promoter,

boasting to birds of the ever-after in which

he was talisman and trophy. And suppose a fair maiden

 

would become the wrath of salvation, her body

perfectly embalmed, but when they opened her grave

her marvelous longevity gave way. The fact is that

 

Saint Clare embodies what has become of Assisi,

where tourists, inevitable as earthquakes, lay siege

and maculate the fortifications of pietra serena.

 

Not too long ago her body lay on a bed of violets,

themselves impervious to decay. Then air

and moisture, the bustle of human ordinariness,

 

intervened, and all that is left is a life-like replica

in which bone fragments quietly work their wonders.

Faith has a way of distorting the senses,

 

making the world more intricate than it already is, more

mirabile dictu. Even now armies still ransack

the catacombs of the elect, and in chapels the healing

 

happens insidiously, perfected by repetition.

Because the most we ask for is that the saints be true:

We are driving away from the scene of the crime;

 

stealing a glimpse in the rearview mirror. Assisi

is an undulation of opal-colored light, no more than

a wavelength, a mirage. This is the way history and memory

 

invade each other, like wars waged after visions.

Look back once, see how the view melts into the crags,

and how time fades like the frescoes of Cimabue.

 

3 poems from my favorite poet. A filipino who got published in the US \m/

[thirteen]

Sanayan Lang Ang Pagpatay

(Para sa sektor nating pumapatay ng tao)

 

Pagpatay ng tao? Sanayan lang 'yan pare.

Parang sa butiki. Sa una siyempre

Ikaw'y nangingimi. Hindi mo masikmurang

Tiradurin o hampasing tulad ng ipis o lamok

Pagkat para bang lagi 'yang nakadapo

Sa noo ng santo sa altar

At tila may tinig na nagsasabing

Bawal bawal bawal 'yang pumatay.

Subalit tulad lang ng maraming bagay

Ang pagpatay ay natututuhan din kung magtitiyaga

Kang makinig sa may higit na karanasan.

Nakuha ko sa tiyuhin ko kung paanong balibagin ng tsinelas

O pilantikin ng lampin ang nakatitig na butiki sa aming kisame

At kapag nalaglag na't nagkikikisay sa sahig

Ay agad ipitin nang hindi makapuslit

Habang dahan-dahang tinitipon ang buong bigat

Sa isang paang nakatingkayad: sabay bagsak.

 

Magandang pagsasanay ito sapagkat

Hindi mo nakikita, naririnig lamang na lumalangutngot

Ang buo't bungo ng lintik na butiking hindi na makahalutiktik.

(kung sa bagay, kilabot din 'yan sa mga gamu-gamo.)

Nang magtagal-tagal ay naging malikhain na rin

Ang aking mga kamay sa pagdukit ng mata,

Pagbleyd ng paa, pagpisa ng itlog sa loob ng tiyan

Hanggang mamilipit 'yang parang nasa ibabaw ng baga.

O kung panahon ng Pasko't maraming paputok

Maingat kong sinusubuan 'yan ng rebentador

Upang sa pagsabog ay magpaalaman ang nguso at buntot.

(Ang hindi ko lamang maintindihan ay kung bakit

Patuloy pa rin 'yang nadaragdagan.)

 

Kaya't ang pagpatay ay nakasasawa rin kung minsan.

Mabuti na lamang at nakaluluwag ng loob

Ang pinto at bintanang kahit hindi mo sinasadya

At may paraan ng pagpuksa ng buhay.

Ganyang lang talaga ang pagpatay:

Kung hindi ako ay iba naman ang babanat;

Kung hindi ngayon ay sa iba namang oras.

Subalit ang higit na nagbibigay sa akin ng lakas ng loob

Ay ang malalim nating pagsasamahan:

Habang ako'y pumapatay, kayo nama'y nanonood.

 

- Albert E. Alejo, SJ

[juno]

But when the melancholy fit shall fall

Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,

That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,

And hides the green hill in an April shroud;

Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,

Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,

Or on the wealth of globed peonies;

Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,

Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,

And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.

 

From Ode on Melancholy

By John Keats

 

[juno]

You will remember that leaping stream

where sweet aromas rose and trembled,

and sometimes a bird, wearing water

and slowness, its winter feathers.

 

You will remember those gifts from the earth:

indelible scents, gold clay,

weeds in the thicket and crazy roots,

magical thorns like swords.

 

You'll remember the bouquet you picked,

shadows and silent water,

bouquet like a foam-covered stone.

 

That time was like never, and like always.

So we go there, where nothing is waiting;

we find everything waiting there.

 

You will remember...

by Pablo Neruda

 

[shodandille]

i read this when my grandma died and it really made me break down and cry:

 

Come To Me

 

God saw you getting tired

And a cure was not to be

So He put His arms around you

And whispered, "Come to me."

With tearful eyes we watched you

suffer and saw you fade away

Although we loved you dearly

We could not make you stay.

 

A golden heart stopped beating

Hard working hands at rest

God broke our hearts to prove

He only takes the best.

 

It's lonesome here without you

We miss you more each day

Life doesn't seem the same

Since you've gone away.

 

When days are sad and lonely

And everything goes wrong

We seem to hear you whisper,

"Cheer up and carry on."

 

Each time we see your picture

You seem to smile and say,

"Don't cry, I'm in God's keeping,

we'll meet again someday."

[Guest lemon]

tu ne quaesieris, scire nefas, quem mihi, quem tibi

finem di dederint, leuconoe, nec babylonios

temptaris numeros. ut melius, quicquid erit, pati,

seu pluris hiemes seu tribuit iuppiter ultimam,

quae nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare

tyrrhenum: sapias, uina liques, et spatio breui

spem longam reseces. dum loquimur, fugerit inuida

aetas: carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.

 

(don't ask (it's forbidden to know) what final fate the gods have

given to me and you, leuconoe, and don't consult babylonian

horoscopes. how much better it is to accept whatever shall be,

whether jupiter has given many more winters or whether this is the

last one, which now breaks the force of the tuscan sea against the

facing cliffs. be wise, strain the wine, and trim distant hope within

short limits. while we're talking, grudging time will already

have fled: seize the day, trusting as little as possible in tomorrow.)

[err_gene22]

This is the poem that moved me the most:

 

Love isn't always forever and when it dies,

A part of us will also painfully wither with it.

If you keep on bitterly grieving over what could have been,

Then you can never be better.

For what you nurture in your heart is a disease that will slowly eat you up,

 

And leave you hopelessly alone in the end.

Remember, losing someone doesn't mean you have failed,

It simply means he/she wasn't mean for you.

You'll find someone better if you'd only open your heart.

[Phrozhen.Khold]

Here's my share...

 

The Tragedy

 

On sleepless nights

My fancy turns to thoughts of you

For never I have met someone

Who makes me feel the way you do...

 

The sparkle in your eyes

That gleams would put to shame any bright star

For is there anything that can compare

With such ageless beauty whether near or far...

 

Never have I felt this way

Towards someone unmindful of all the hurts and pains

Misty-eyed I gazed on your eyes

Hoping you'd see a love restained...

 

But my chance of being with you

Has turned to waste and nothing

'Cause now I've come to realize

Friends are all we could ever be...

[jumborat]

This is a classic... one of my favorites...

 

Remember when we was on ice skates

And I thought you was supposed to be great

But I kept giving you lip

And you kept trying to slip

So I'd catch you

That was our first date,

And since then every day has been great

And no matter where you go,

Atlantic City or in the snow

You don't gotta worry 'bout a thing

'Cause as long as I've got this ring

I'll always be there to catch you

[Guest lemon]

if my life of bitter torment and of tears

could be derided more, and made more troubled,

that i might see, by virtue of your later years,

lady, the light quenched of your beautiful eyes,

 

and the golden hair spun fine as silver,

and the garland laid aside and the green clothes,

and the delicate face fade, that makes me

fearful and slow to go weeping:

 

then love might grant me such confidence

that i’d reveal to you my sufferings

the years lived through, and the days and hours:

 

and if time is opposed to true desire,

it does not mean no food would nourish my grief:

i might draw some from slow sighs.

 

twelveth, the canzoniere

 

:hypocritesmiley:

[tsunade]

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no! it is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come:

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me proved,

I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

 

William Shakespeare

(1564 - 1616)

[bubblykikay]

If You Forget Me

 

I want you to know

one thing.

 

You know how this is:

if I look

at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch

near the fire

the impalpable ash

or the wrinkled body of the log,

everything carries me to you,

as if everything that exists,

aromas, light, metals,

were little boats

that sail

toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

 

Well, now,

if little by little you stop loving me

I shall stop loving you little by little.

 

If suddenly

you forget me

do not look for me,

for I shall already have forgotten you.

 

If you think it long and mad,

the wind of banners

that passes through my life,

and you decide

to leave me at the shore

of the heart where I have roots,

remember

that on that day,

at that hour,

I shall lift my arms

and my roots will set off

to seek another land.

 

But

if each day,

each hour,

you feel that you are destined for me

with implacable sweetness,

if each day a flower

climbs up to your lips to seek me,

ah my love, ah my own,

in me all that fire is repeated,

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

 

~ Pablo Neruda ~

[Dr_PepPeR]

Shakespeare's Sonnets

 

Rudyard Kipling's poems on war.

[Lipstick]

I have dreamed of you so much that you are no longer real.

Is there still time for me to reach your breathing body, to kiss your mouth and make

your dear voice come alive again?

 

I have dreamed of you so much that my arms, grown used to being crossed on my

chest as I hugged your shadow, would perhaps not bend to the shape of your body.

For faced with the real form of what has haunted me and governed me for so many

days and years, I would surely become a shadow.

 

O scales of feeling.

 

I have dreamed of you so much that surely there is no more time for me to wake up.

I sleep on my feet prey to all the forms of life and love, and you, the only one who

counts for me today, I can no more touch your face and lips than touch the lips and

face of some passerby.

 

I have dreamed of you so much, have walked so much, talked so much, slept so much

with your phantom, that perhaps the only thing left for me is to become a phantom

among phantoms, a shadow a hundred times more shadow than the shadow that

moves and goes on moving, brightly, over the sundial of your life.

 

~Robert Desnos~

 

x x x x x

 

Long, long ago in the future, you loved me.

[fallenangel8]

There are nine million bicycles in Beijing

That's a fact

It's a thing we can't deny

Like the fact that I will love you till I die

 

We are twelve billion light years from the edge

That's a guess

No-one can ever say it's true

But I know that I will always be with you

 

I'm warmed by the fire of your love everyday

So don't call me a liar

Just believe everything that I say

 

There are 6 billion people in the world

More or less

And it makes me feel quite small

But you're the one I love the most of all

 

We're high on the wire

With the world in our sight

And I'll never tire

Of the love that you give me every night

 

There are nine million bicycles in Beijing

That's a fact

It's a thing we can't deny

Like the fact that I will love you till I die

 

And there are nine million bicycles in Beijing

And you know that I will love you till I die

 

:thumbsupsmiley: :cool: :heart:

[fallenangel8]

Gonna blame it on the moon,

Didn't want to fall in love again so soon.

 

I was fine, feeling strong,

Didn't want to fall in love with anyone.

 

Now that it's gone too far to call for a halt,

I'll blame it on the moon

'Cause it's not my fault;

I didn't think that this would happen so soon

So I'll blame it on the moon.

 

I was happy to be free

Didn't think I'd give myself so easily.

 

Guilty feelings in the night

As I wonder is it wrong to feel so right.

 

Now that it's gone too far to call for a halt,

I'll blame it on the moon

'Cause it's not my fault;

I didn't think that this would happen so soon

So I'll blame it on the moon.

 

Now that it's gone too far to call for a halt,

I'll blame it on the moon

'Cause it's not my fault;

I didn't think that this would happen so soon

So I'll blame it on the moon

 

So I'll blame it on the moon

 

:cool: :thumbsupsmiley: :hypocritesmiley: