What Poetry Moved You?

[fallenangel8]

Winter Moonlight

 

The snow, so peaceful and serene,

caressed by the soft moonlight,

gave magical feelings to the night.

 

The soft blue glow,

the lovers' words that then did flow,

their lips closer and closer

until, locked in the throes

of a passionate embrace,

he decided to express his feelings,

to keep her safe.

 

He whispered softly,

his words like music to her ears,

"I Love You,"

and her response the same,

heard like the gentle breeze,

"And I, love you, forever."

 

That was the night they promised

to be together through everything,

each to care for the other when old and gray

A lovers' pact

the most likely to last.

 

- Krista J. Mikula -

[Dr_PepPeR]

Don't blame it on sunshine

Don't blame it on moonlight

Don't blame it on good times

Blame it on the boogie

 

"Blame it on the Boogie" by the Jackson Five

[Lipstick]

Sonnet 29

 

When, in disgrace with Fortune and men's eyes,

I all alone beweep my outcast state,

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,

And look upon myself and curse my fate,

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,

Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,

Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,

With what I most enjoy contented least,

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,

Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate

For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings,

That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

 

thirteen, bill was my first.

[Guest lemon]

All places sadden me where I do not see

those beautiful bright eyes

which carried off the keys

of my thoughts, sweet while it pleased God:

and all to make my harsh exile harder,

if I sleep or walk or sit,

I long for nothing more,

and nothing I see after them can please me.

How many mountains and waters,

how many seas and rivers,

hide me from those two eyes,

that almost made a clear sky at noon

from my shadows,

only for memory to consume me more,

and to show how joyous my life was before

while my present is harsh and troubled.

 

soon... :hypocritesmiley:

[bluegreen717]

Can it be right to give what I can give?

To let thee sit beneath the fall of tears

As salt as mine, and hear the sighing years

Re-sighing on my lips renunciative

Through those infrequent smiles which fail to live

For all thy adjurations? O my fears,

That this can scarce be right! We are not peers

So to be lovers; and I own, and grieve,

That givers of such gifts as mine are, must

Be counted with the ungenerous. Out, alas!

I will not soil thy purple with my dust,

Nor breathe my poison on thy Venice-glass,

Nor give thee any love--which were unjust.

Beloved, I only love thee! let it pass.

 

Sonnets from the Portuguese, 9, Elizabeth Barrett-Browning

[BlackWizard]

Hindi ko na alam kung sino na ngayon

Hindi ko na alam kung nasaan na ngayon

Parang buhanging dumulas sa palad ko ang panahon

Ang bukas at kahapo'y iisa sa isip kong litong-lito...

 

Hindi ko na alam kung sino na ngayon

Kung wala sa piling mo ay sino na ngayon

Yakapin mong anong higpit, hanggang tuluyang mahimbing

Aling pag-ibig pa kaya ang tatamis pa sa pag-ibig mo?

 

Tukso, tuksuhin mo ako

 

Sa apoy mong kandungan

 

Maging ngayo'y alipinin mo!!!

 

Sa Kndungan NgTukso - Ronald Ramirez

[philos]

Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe (1849)

 

It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of ANNABEL LEE;--

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.

She was a child and I was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love--

I and my Annabel Lee--

With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven

Coveted her and me.

 

And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud by night

Chilling my Annabel Lee;

So that her high-born kinsman came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.

 

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

Went envying her and me:--

Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of a cloud, chilling

And killing my Annabel Lee.

 

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we--

Of many far wiser than we-

And neither the angels in Heaven above,

Nor the demons down under the sea,

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:--

 

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea--

In her tomb by the side of the sea.

[Lipstick]

I carry your heart with me

(I carry it in my heart)

I am never without it

(anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)

I fear no fate

(for you are my fate, my sweet)

I want no world

(for beautiful you are my world, my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

 

I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)

 

x x x x

 

Everyday, every damn single day that has been.

And now, for all tomorrows plus a day my heart, for always and a day.

[wuss]

And now you’re mine (Love Sonnet LXXXI)-P.Neruda

 

Now, you are mine. Rest with your dream inside my dream.

Love, pain, and work, must sleep now.

Night revolves on invisible wheels

and joined to me you are pure as sleeping amber.

 

No one else will sleep with my dream, love.

You will go; we will go joined by the waters of time.

No other one will travel the shadows with me,

only you, ever green, ever sun, ever moon.

 

Already your hands have opened their delicate fists

and let fall, without direction, their gentle signs,

your eyes enclosing themselves like two grey wings,

while I follow the waters you bring that take me onwards:

night, Earth, winds weave their fate, and already,

not only am I not without you, I alone am your dream.

[Guest lemon]

go placidly amid the noise and 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 the dull and the ignorant;

they too have their story.

 

avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit.

if you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and 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 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 imaginings. many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

 

you are a child of the universe, no 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 with your soul.

 

with all its shams, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

 

strive to be happy.

 

always believed in the ideals set forth in this one. never can do 'em all but, hell, i had fun trying. hahaha! see you around, folks!

[LB]

The Builder by Pablo Neruda

[sam spade]

not really a poetry lover...but for whatever reason...what enters my mind now is this....

 

O (name of person) kong nilalangit

Nilalangaw pati puwit

Sa gabi ika'y isang tala

Sa umaga mata mo'y puro muta

Sa kagandahan mo ako'y sasamba

Sa utot mo ako'y tutumba

O (name of person) kong nilalangit

Nilalangaw pati puwit

 

 

Sorry couldn't help it...just wanted to bring a smile to a rather serious thread....hope you may excue me for it

[sam spade]

FEMALE POEM

I want a man who’s handsome, smart and strong

 

One who loves to listen all day long,

 

One who thinks before he speaks,

 

One who'll call, not wait for weeks.

 

I want him to be gainfully employed,

 

And when I spend his cash, not be annoyed.

 

Pulls out my chair and opens my door,

 

Massages my back and begs to do more.

 

Oh! For a man who makes love to my mind,

 

And knows what to answer to "how big is my behind?"

 

I want this man to love me to no end,

 

And forever be my very best friend.

 

==================================================================

 

MALE POEM

 

I want a deaf-mute nymphomaniac,

 

With huge boobs

 

who owns a bottle shop and a fishing boat.

 

I know this doesn't rhyme and I don't give a s@%t.

[havagut]

In a Station of the Metro

by Ezra Pound

 

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;

Petals on a wet, black bough.

 

moved me. short as it is, it was nevertheless clear... concise.

 

In a Station of the Metro

[DomPerignom]

"The Man With The Hoe" by: Edwin Markham

[spishoxxx]

Dreams of Darkness

 

I see demonic shadows,

floating in the darkness,

waiting me to fall a sleep,

searching a moment of my weakness...

 

Shadows of death,

inside my head,

this outstanding pain,

in my brain...

 

Flames of hellfire,

in my eyes,

smell of death,

in my nose...

 

Molten seas of hell,

this demonic smell,

someone is casting a dark spell,

holding me in the hell...

[Lipstick]

Blessed be the day, the month, the year

the season, the time, the hour, the instant

the moment and the place where I

was struck by those two lovely eyes that bound me;

 

and blessed be the first sweet agony

I felt when I found myself bound to love,

the bow and all the arrows that have pierced me,

the wounds that reach the bottom of my heart.

 

and blessed be all the poetry

I scattered calling out my lady's name,

and all the sighs, and tears, and the desire;

 

blessed be all the paper upon which

I earn her fame, and every thought of mine,

only of her, and shared with no one else.

 

And he loved her so ... 6:12:05, twice as much. :heart:

[lemon]

graces that heaven's bounty gives to tew:

a rare virtue not found in humankind,

under blond hair a wise and ripened mind,

and in a humble woman beauty true;

a loveliness unique in excellence,

and the singing that one hears in the heart,

the heavenly gait, the dear and ardent sense

that breaks the hardest, curbs the highest art;

the eyes that every heart can petrify,

puissant to lighten darkness, the abyss,

and to steal souls from bodies where they stormed;

and the speech full of reasons pure and high,

with the sighs sweetly broken for my bliss:

by these magicians i have been transformed.

 

s213.

 

as always, mask on but delighted to see you... then again this was public.

[tygerius]

invictus

[laging_nagmamahal]

"There Are Too Many Saviours On My Cross"

 

 

 

There are too many saviours on my cross

lending their blood to flood out my ballot-box

with needs of their own.

 

Who put you there?

Who told you that that was your place?

 

You carry me secretly naked in your hearts,

and clothe me publicly in armour, saying

"God is on our side,"

Yet I openly cry

"Who is on My side? Who, tell Me who?

You who buried your sons and crippled your fathers

whilst you buried My Father in crippling His Son."

 

The antiquated Saxon sword, rusty in its scabbard of time,

now rises.

You gave it cause in My name,

bringing shame to the thorned head that once bled for

your salvation.

I hear your cries in the far-off byways, and your

mouth pointing north and south,

and my Calvary looms again, desperate in rebirth.

Your earth is partitioned but in contrition

it is the partition in your hearts that you must abolish.

 

You nightly watchers of Gethsemane,

who sat through my nightly trial delivering me from evil,

now, deserted, I watch you share your silver.

Your purse, rich in hate, bleeds my veins of love,

shattering my bone in the dust of the Boxside

and the Shaghill Road.

 

There is no issue stronger than the tissue of love,

no need as holy as the palm outstretched in the

run of generosity,

no monstrosity greater than the anger you inflict.

 

Who gave you the right to increase your fold while

decreasing the pastures of My flock?

Who gave you the right? Who gave it to you, who?

and in whose name do you fight?

 

I am not in heaven,

I am here, hear Me.

I am with you, see Me,

I am in you, feel Me,

I am of you, be Me,

I am for you, need Me.

I am all mankind, only through kindness will you reach Me.

 

What masked and bannered men can rock the ark

and navigate a course to their own anointed kingdom come?

Who sailed their captain to waters that they troubled

in My font, sinking in the ignorant seas of prejudice?

 

There is no virgin willing to conceive in the heat of

any bloody Sunday.

You children, lying in cries on Derry streets,

pushing your innocence into the full-flushed face of Christian guns,

battling the blame on each other,

Do not grow tongues in your dying dumb wounds speaking My name.

I am not your prize in your death,

you have exorcised Me in your game of politics.

 

Go home to your knees, and worship Me in any cloth,

for I was never tailor-made.

And who told you I was? Who gave you the right to think it?

Take your beads in your crippled hands.

Can you count My decades?

Take My love in your crippled hearts.

Can you count the loss?

 

I am not orange, I am not green,

I am a half-ripe fruit, needing both colors to grow into ripeness,

and shame on you to have withered my orchard!

I, in my poverty, alone and without trust,

cry shame on you and shame on you again and again

for converting Me into a bullet and shooting Me into men's hearts.

 

The ageless legend of My trial grows old, and the youth of your pulse,

staggering shamelessly from barricade to grave,

filing in the book of history My needless death one April,

Let Me in My betrayal lie low in My grave,

and you in your bitterness lie low in yours,

for our measurements grow strangely dissimilar.

 

Our Father, who art in Heaven, sullied be Thy Name!

[sweetie]

Love is so very special

Yet can make you feel so lost

It can arrive just like the springtime

And melt away like morning frost

 

You must find ways to nurture

Always grow your love with care

Never ever take for granted

The love that you both share

 

Mistakes are bound to happen

You may hurt each other's heart

Yet don't give up to easily

It will tear your love apart

 

Love resembles a bright flame

That lights a dark starry night

Never ever let this flame burn down

Rekindle with all your might

 

Take a moment every day

Look deep into each other's eyes

Never hesitate to show affection

Small gestures will keep a love alive

 

Talk openly about your feelings

Take time to show that you care

Treasure each and every moment

Because to find true love is rare

[lemon]

Out of lemon flowers loosed on the moonlight,

love's lashed and insatiable essences,

sodden with fragrance,

the lemon tree's yellow emerges,

the lemons move down from the tree's planetarium

 

Delicate merchandise!

The harbors are big with it-

bazaars for the light and the barbarous gold.

We open the halves of a miracle,

and a clotting of acids brims into the starry divisions:

creation's original juices, irreducible, changeless, alive:

so the freshness lives on in a lemon,

in the sweet-smelling house of the rind,

the proportions, arcane and acerb.

 

Cutting the lemon the knife leaves a little cathedral:

alcoves unguessed by the eye that open

acidulous glass to the light; topazes

riding the droplets, altars,

aromatic facades.

 

So, while the hand holds the cut of the lemon,

half a world on a trencher,

the gold of the universe wells to your touch:

a cup yellow with miracles,

a breast and a nipple perfuming the earth;

a flashing made fruitage,

the diminutive fire of a planet.

 

Pablo Neruda.

 

Ya think?

[iwalkalone]

Our love is like a simple wildflower,

budding from a tiny scattered seed,

Carried by an aimless wandering wind,

having but a single chance to be.

 

Loneliness floats on a restless breeze,

two empty lives search for a home.

Crossing paths at a moment in time,

seeking love that can’t exist alone.

 

Needing one another to be whole,

restless souls together reaching out.

Driven by a thirst for something more,

nurtured by love without doubt.

 

Blossoming like the rose, love thrives,

its passion like the gentle summer shower.

Creating untold beauty as it blooms,

our love is like a simple wildflower.

 

http://mi5.bpcdn.us/ggg0/loveisblue.gif

[naked_angel]

Stars have a special gleam, a twinkle about them.

Only to be seen from your safe distance.

Galaxies away, they are gods of the universe.

Immortal and beautiful.

 

I tried to count all the stars in the universe.

Only to realize my ignorance.

That infinity cannot be totaled.

 

I tried to write about them.

But enigma of that kind can never be words.

We may try, but we will always fail.

 

And maybe that's the point.

That I can say that.

I tried to write about these gods.

And I failed.

And I'm supposed to see the beauty in that failure.

Failure to write about the stars.

 

But with a newfound thirst for stardust.

A heady objection to failure.

And just maybe.

For a fear that.

After passing up opportunities.

During The First and The Second.

I may not outlive them this time.

 

So now, in The Third Big Bang.

I can now proudly say.

I went star-hopping.

For the first time.

 

***

 

I first came to a constellation.

Shaped like a heart, with a small crack.

 

But I soon realized that these are silly gods.

And from that point I decided.

To call them plainly as stars.

 

These stars.

Kept on moving away from each and each.

Their respective gravities chose to repel.

And caused the small crack to open wider.

Wider, bigger, and in danger of breaking apart.

For reasons shocking and mysterious.

Mysterious, and no longer enigmatic.

 

Silly gods, indeed.

 

***

 

Indeed.

Stars have a special gleam, a twinkle about them.

Only to be seen from your safe distance.

Galaxies away, they are gods of the universe.

Immortal and beautiful.

But they burn you up close.

 

There are billions and billions.

Out there, so infinite of them.

And you.

It is you who burns the most.

 

-p.medina

[bluegreen717]

Puedo escribir -Pablo Neruda

 

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.

 

Escribir, por ejemplo: 'La noche está estrellada,

y tiritan, azules, los astros, a lo lejos.'

 

El viento de la noche gira en el cielo y canta.

 

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.

Yo la quise, y a veces ella también me quiso.

 

En las noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos.

La besé tantas veces bajo el cielo infinito.

 

Ella me quiso, a veces yo también la quería.

Cómo no haber amado sus grandes ojos fijos.

 

Puedo escribir los versos más tristes esta noche.

Pensar que no la tengo. Sentir que la he perdido.

 

Oir la noche inmensa, más inmnesa sin ella.

Y el verso cae al alma como al pasto el rocío.

 

Qué importa que mi amor no pudiera guadarla.

La noche está estrellada y ella no está conmigo.

 

Eso es todo. A lo lejos alguien canta. A lo lejos.

Mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

 

Como para acercarla mi mirada la busca.

Mi corazón la busca, y ella no está conmigo.

 

La misma noche que hace blanquear los mismos árboles.

Nosotros, los de entonces, ya no somos los mismos.

 

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero cuánto la quise.

Mi voz buscaba el viento para tocar su oído.

 

De otro. Será de otro. Como antes de mis besos.

Su voz, su cuerpo claro. Sus ojos infinitos.

 

Ya no la quiero, es cierto, pero tal vez la quiero.

Es tan corto el amor, y es tan largo el olvido.

 

Porque en noches como ésta la tuve entre mis brazos,

mi alma no se contenta con haberla perdido.

 

Aunque éste sea el último dolor que ella me causa,

y éstos sean los últimos versos que yo le escribo.