Poetry

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Poetry

Post by Dæmon on Wed Jan 07 2015, 10:46



Poems


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The Second Coming

Post by Dæmon on Wed Jan 07 2015, 10:50

Yeats, W.B. wrote:The Second Coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?



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Fire and Ice

Post by Dæmon on Wed Mar 16 2016, 06:27

Robert, Frost wrote:Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.




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The Road not Taken

Post by Dæmon on Wed Mar 16 2016, 06:31

Frost, Robert wrote:Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.





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Dylan, Thomas

Post by Dæmon on Wed Mar 16 2016, 06:35

Dylan, Thomas wrote:Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light
.




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Yeats

Post by Dæmon on Mon Jul 11 2016, 17:04

Yeats wrote:Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.


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Re: Poetry

Post by Dæmon on Mon Jul 11 2016, 17:05

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Re: Poetry

Post by Dæmon on Sat Jul 16 2016, 11:27

Kipling, Rudyard wrote: TAKE up the White Man's burden -Send forth the best ye breed -Go bind your sons to exile
To serve your captives' need;
To wait in heavy harness
On fluttered folk and wild -Your new-caught sullen peoples,
Half devil and half child.
Take up the White Man's burden -In patience to abide
To veil the threat of terror
And check the show of pride;
By open speech and simple,
An hundred times made plain,
To seek another's profit,
And work another's gain.
Take up the White Man's burden -The savage wars of peace -Fill full the mouth of famine
And bid the sickness cease;
And when your goal is nearest
The end for others sought,
Watch Sloth and heathen Folly
Bring all your hopes to nought.
Take up the White Man's burden -No tawdry rule of kings,
But toil of serf and sweeper -The tale of common things.
The ports ye shall not enter,
The roads ye shall not tread,
Go make them with your living,
And mark them with your dead !
Take up the White Man's burden -And reap his old reward,
The blame of those ye better,
The hate of those ye guard -The cry of hosts ye humour
(Ah slowly !) towards the light:-"Why brought ye us from bondage,
"Our loved Egyptian night ?"
Take up the White Man's burden -Ye dare not stoop to less -Nor call too loud on Freedom
To cloak your weariness;
By all ye cry or whisper,
By all ye leave or do,
The silent sullen peoples
Shall weigh your Gods and you.
Take up the White Man's burden -Have done with childish days -The lightly proffered laurel,
The easy, ungrudged praise.
Comes now, to search your manhood
Through all the thankless years,
Cold-edged with dear-bought wisdom,
The judgement of your peers.
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Re: Poetry

Post by Dæmon on Fri Sep 30 2016, 19:33

I, on the other hand
who needs no external stimuli,
no outside numbing
to walk through a wood
and feel the wonder

Am not as obsessed to prove
the wonder of my buzz
happy enough to hear it
in the rustling leaves
and bubbling streams

I, on the other hand,
who needs no other to validate
to witness and consolidate
feeling a caress, smelling her sweat
through her flowery dress

Am not as addicted to profess
the glory of her embrace
only content to feel her
and with my hungry mouth
conceal her taste
CA
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Re: Poetry

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