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18-04-2005
  16
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^ beautiful

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18-04-2005
  17
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Isn't it, it really stands out as far as Poe's work is concerned.

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18-04-2005
  18
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One of many favorites ....

Sylvia Plath- Mirror

I am silver and exact. I have no preconceptions.
What ever you see I swallow immediately
Just as it is, unmisted by love or dislike.
I am not cruel, only truthful---
The eye of a little god, four-cornered.
Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall.
It is pink, with speckles. I have looked at it so long
I think it is a part of my heart. But it flickers.
Faces and darkness separate us over and over.
Now I am a lake. A woman bends over me,
Searching my reaches for what she really is.
Then she turns to those liars, the candles or the moon.
I see her back, and reflect it faithfully.
She rewards me with tears and an agitation of hands.
I am important to her. She comes and goes.
Each morning it is her face that replaces the darkness.
In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman
Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.

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18-04-2005
  19
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Ohh! I this is seriously becoming my favorite thread! I adore poetry!!!

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18-04-2005
  20
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Quote:
Originally Posted by TokyoVogue
Yes!
Im glad someone see's his work as what it is POETRY and beautiful surreal poetry...theyre a dream.
i also loved the Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll as a kid i still do, he put words that made absolutly no sense in the poem and yet it made perfect sense it was great
We have similar tastes. I think Bob Dylan's lyrics are almost always some of the best poetry. Some songs are clearly more beat/melody-driven, but Isis is a perfect example of his lyrics being the focal piece.

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18-04-2005
  21
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^ Not a Dylan fan personally, but I appreciate his lyrics...they are truly beautiful.

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18-04-2005
  22
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Quote:
Originally Posted by longlegsue
One of many favorites ....

Sylvia Plath- Mirror
I love how careful and technically tight her poetry is... Another good example:

Mad Girl's Love Song

"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.)"


--- It's a little dark for my taste, but it's one of the better villanelles ever written..

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19-04-2005
  23
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M.S. Monin-


Humility and endeavors,
Kissing on the pillows of eternal agony,
I split the slithering sensations of a world
That seemingly bypasses me.

Eyes oh sweet sensuality of an adorned presence,
Cast off the dwindling escapades of lovers
And breathe the emotions of tomorrows night.

A wind that sweeps the canvas of your beauty
And tempts the heavens with your song,
Dreary are the anticipations in which you prolong.

For the wings of the stars that fall with hesitation,
Your mellow methodical pose contradicts the narrow,
Corridors that entrance my mind.

The scrumptious flames that tantalize my tongue,
A delicate touch of flesh, burning with naive thoughts.
A moment of revelations...soft and sweltering,

A brooding moon that eclipses that sun,
Fall in a place of captivating ecstasy.


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Living is easy with eyes close, misunderstanding all you see. It's getting hard to be someone, but it all works out, it doesn't matter much to me...- Strawberry Fields Forever

Last edited by LaceFab4; 19-04-2005 at 06:17 PM.
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25-04-2005
  24
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Tennesse Williams- "Lament for the Moths"

'A plague has stricken the moths, the moths are dying,
their bodies are flakes of bronze on the carpet lying.
Enemies of the delicate everywhere
have breathed a pestilent mist into the air.

Lament for the velvety moths, for the moths were lovely.
Often their tender thoughts, for they thought of me,
eased the neurotic ills that haunt the day.
Now an invisible evil takes them away.

I move through the shadowy rooms, I cannot be still,
I must find where the treacherous killer is concealed.
Feverishly I search and still they fall
as fragile as ashes broken against a wall.

Now that the plague has taken the moths away,
who will be cooler than curtains against the day,
who will come early and softly to ease my lot
as I move through the shadowy rooms with a troubled heart?

Give them, O mother of moths and mother of men,
strength to enter the heavy world again,
for delicate were the moths and badly wanted
here in a world by mammoth figures haunted!'

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28-04-2005
  25
être ton cygne noir
 
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e.e. cummings


you said Is

you said Is
there anything which
is dead or alive more beautiful
than my body,to have in your fingers
(trembling ever so little)?
Looking into
your eyes Nothing,i said,except the
air of spring smelling of never and forever
.....and through the lattice which moved as
if a hand is touched by a
hand(which
moved as though
fingers touch a girl's
breast,
lightly)
Do you believe in always,the wind
said to the rain
I am too busy with
my flowers to believe,the rain answered


Last edited by SibylVane; 28-04-2005 at 12:58 PM.
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28-04-2005
  26
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^ that's beautiful.

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28-04-2005
  27
Naturellement pulpeuse
 
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Bob Dylan - Desolation Row

Currently keen on The Human Abstract by William Blake.

Pity would be no more,
If we did not make somebody Poor;
And Mercy no more could be,
If all were as happy as we;

And mutual fear brings peace,
Till the selfish loves increase;
Then Cruelty knits a snare,
And spreads his baits with care.

He sits down with holy fears,
And waters the ground with tears;
Then Humility takes its root
Underneath his foot.

Soon spreads the dismal shade
Of Mystery over his head;
And the Caterpillar and Fly
Feed on the Mystery. And it bears the fruit of Deceit,
Ruddy and sweet to eat;
And the Raven his nest has made
In its thickest shade.

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28-04-2005
  28
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Billy Collins -

The First Dream

The Wind is ghosting around the house tonight
and as I lean against the door of sleep
I begin to think about the first person to dream,
how quiet he must have seemed the next morning

as the others stood around the fire
draped in the skins of animals
talking to each other only in vowels,
for this was long before the invention of consonants.

He might have gone off by himself to sit
on a rock and look into the mist of a lake
as he tried to tell himself what had happened,
how he had gone somewhere without going,

how he had put his arms around the neck
of a beast that the others could touch
only after they had killed it with stones,
how he felt its breath on his bare neck.

Then again, the first dream could have come
to a woman, though she would behave,
I suppose, much the same way,
moving off by herself to be alone near water,

except that the curve of her young shoulders
and the tilt of her downcast head
would make her appear to be terribly alone,
and if you were there to notice this,

you might have gone down as the first person
to ever fall in love with the sadness of another.

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28-08-2005
  29
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Current favourite poem that reflects your mood
for me its The Lovesong of J. Alfred prufrock - Elliot

"LET us go then, you and I,When the evening is spread out against the skyLike a patient etherised upon a table;Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,The muttering retreats 5Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotelsAnd sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:Streets that follow like a tedious argumentOf insidious intentTo lead you to an overwhelming question … 10Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”Let us go and make our visit. In the room the women come and goTalking of Michelangelo.
"

in full at http://www.bartleby.com/198/1.html

whast yours ! !

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23-09-2005
  30
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'One Day I Wrote Her Name upon the Strand'
by Edmund Spenser

One day I wrote her name upon the strand,
But came the waves and washed it away:
Again I wrote it with a second hand,
But came the tide, and made my pains his prey.
'Vain man,' said she, 'that dost in vain assay
A mortal thing so to immortalize,
For I myself shall like to this decay,
And eke my name be wiped out likewise.'
'Not so,' quod I, 'let baser things devise
To die in dust, but you shall live by fame;
My verse your virtues rare shall eternize,
And in the heavens write your glorious name,
Where, whenas Death shall all the world subdue,
Our love shall live, and later life renew.'

...thats my favorite poem, reminds me of my boyfriend I just love the line 'To die in dust, but you shall live by fame' great line!


Last edited by tangiblelove; 23-09-2005 at 08:37 AM.
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