Are you a poet? Do you love poetry?
Post who your favorite poet is...
Let us know if there are any good peices out there that we need to read... or
Give us some of your own verses! --

Enjoy! and Thank you in advance!

I forgot the emoticons. We need the visuals!
[This message was edited Wed Oct 29 9:26:50 PST 2003 by SweetKreme]

Here is one of mine!


The seagull flew to the cliff
and pooped.

fin.

Lleena said:

That was beautiful.

CtheUncanny said:

I'm so glad to see this thread getting off to such a lovely start.

i think, i think i am, therefore i am, i think.
of course you are my bright little star,
I've miles
And miles
Of files
Pretty files of your forefather's fruit
And now to suit our
Great computer,
You're magnetic ink.
i'm more than that, i know i am, at least, i think i must be.
there you go man, keep as cool as you can.
Face piles
And piles
Of trials
With smiles.
It riles them to believe
That you perceive
The web they weave
And keep on thinking free.

be brave
clear out this dense smoke gray,
LOVE is of cool colors...
find my emeralds, search out for silver
shifting into auraescent from time to time,
ill describe it, light on the eyes
yet sweet to my heart
sometimes my life is cowardly & vague,
so ill color it smoke gray
neutral, without melon, his movement albino,
translucent, it makes me wonder than know
puzzled to my mind, tugging at my heart_
can you see how the heart an mind are separate yet connected
different yet the same?

(author: self)
___

title: white widows peek

...take note, all you passer-bys, you cant see
the erosion or wind an rain
melting into my skin, nor can you see
the impressions on my mind
the minutes, hours, days, months, years
arent made to linger long
slowly white creeps up above my brow
this black bottled drull silences me for awhile,
yet i still know weve been wronged
this LIE is not speechless,
we all secretly have an urgent purpose in soul,
we all "realize" at different times an ways...
LIFE deals us different blows,
but with just a distant clap of the hands,
its only one thing that would treat us equally

(author: self)

very nice!!! do you have any more!?!? I'd love to read them.

...ive got hundreds, ive been writing since i dont know when,...and thank you for the encouraging comment! ive just recently put them into "fancy" leather back books of empty pages, i feel better about them being there instead of ina notebook (although there nothing wrong with them being in that form, its just ah creature comfort)

If they aren't too private...here is a good place to show some of them off. KEEP GOING
[This message was edited Wed Oct 29 12:00:24 PST 2003 by prrtybby]

Talk to me baby, I want to sleep at night.
My heart is heavy, it's weighed down by the night.
And now I'm lonely, I want to see the light
So deep within you.

Cool wind is blowing through your crazy hair.
Warm colours flowing, this feeling we have shared.
And now I'm lonely I want to feel the love
So deep within you.

Your love's a never ending dream,
A castle by a stream of sweet understanding.
I know you're thinking of me too, the messages
From you are my inspiration.

Love's incense lingers, it never fades away.
Like you I'm waiting for our special day.
And now I'm lonely I want to feel the love
So deep within you

My love is burning, like a forest fire.
My heart is yearning, I feel a warm desire.
And now I'm lonely I want to tough the fire
So deep within you.

i got one. i wrote it about this girl i met once and i wanted to see her again. i knew that i would see her again soon so i wrote this in anticipation:

Campfire


A small sliver of India touched me today
and wet my pallette for colours and smells
I am not accustomed to.

Her warm beach I found protected by coral cliffs and "pink" sands,
I let myself be tripped thru her jungle.

You surely tricked me. I don't complain,
I celebrate, But seven days is all we had
to celebrate and that I regret.

For we will have another seven days
Hopefully it will be soon
Cuz, I've been waiting...quite patiently around this campfire that we built.

- Milty


there ya go.

yo!

Thank you for your beauty! Silver and prrtybby

Here's one of my own-

When 2 become 1...

2 sets of eyes
2 sets of ears
- 1 mouth
2 hands
2 feet
- 1 heart
2 sets of legs
2 sets of breast
- 1 soul
2 monkeys on 1 back
2 families and 1 on society on the attack
2 stressful 2 be reality ... 1 love will save us from insanity.

This is mine also...
Trippin

Theese tears are dripping researchin through mind
reminisn on hard times..
Trapped in this state and I can't get out - still trin to figure out what this life shit is all about
Destin to become someone I want me to be
tryin hard not to flip the switch on this light that's inside of me
Having thoughts which are thoughts that suicidle
watching movies, listening to music trying to keep my mind from being idle
The old folks say an idle mind is the devils playground
well right now that red- faced bastard is swinging on my cerebellum and sliding down my medulla
I wish I had some wisdom inside of me a litte sooner
holdin back the tears and through my voice I can hear my fears
Lord grant me some serenity
give me some sanity
hip me back to reality
this mental wrath could be the death of me
Forgive me!

Copywrite: 2002

My fave ever poem is the Auguries of Innocence by William Blake:
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.

A Robin Red breast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage.
A dove house fill'd with doves & Pigeons
Shudders Hell thro' all its regions.
A dog starv'd at his Master's Gate
Predicts the ruin of the State.
A Horse misus'd upon the Road
Calls to Heaven for Human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted Hare
A fibre from the Brain does tear.
A Skylark wounded in the wing,
A Cherubim does cease to sing.
The Game Cock clipp'd and arm'd for fight
Does the Rising Sun affright.
Every Wolf's & Lion's howl
Raises from Hell a Human Soul.
The wild deer, wand'ring here & there,
Keeps the Human Soul from Care.
The Lamb misus'd breeds public strife
And yet forgives the Butcher's Knife.
The Bat that flits at close of Eve
Has left the Brain that won't believe.
The Owl that calls upon the Night
Speaks the Unbeliever's fright.
He who shall hurt the little Wren
Shall never be belov'd by Men.
He who the Ox to wrath has mov'd
Shall never be by Woman lov'd.
The wanton Boy that kills the Fly
Shall feel the Spider's enmity.
He who torments the Chafer's sprite
Weaves a Bower in endless Night.
The Catterpillar on the Leaf
Repeats to thee thy Mother's grief.
Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly,
For the Last Judgement draweth nigh.
He who shall train the Horse to War
Shall never pass the Polar Bar.
The Beggar's Dog & Widow's Cat,
Feed them & thou wilt grow fat.
The Gnat that sings his Summer's song
Poison gets from Slander's tongue.
The poison of the Snake & Newt
Is the sweat of Envy's Foot.
The poison of the Honey Bee
Is the Artist's Jealousy.
The Prince's Robes & Beggars' Rags
Are Toadstools on the Miser's Bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the Lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so;
Man was made for Joy & Woe;
And when this we rightly know
Thro' the World we safely go.
Joy & Woe are woven fine,
A Clothing for the Soul divine;
Under every grief & pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
The Babe is more than swadling Bands;
Throughout all these Human Lands
Tools were made, & born were hands,
Every Farmer Understands.
Every Tear from Every Eye
Becomes a Babe in Eternity.
This is caught by Females bright
And return'd to its own delight.
The Bleat, the Bark, Bellow & Roar
Are Waves that Beat on Heaven's Shore.
The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath
Writes Revenge in realms of death.
The Beggar's Rags, fluttering in Air,
Does to Rags the Heavens tear.
The Soldier arm'd with Sword & Gun,
Palsied strikes the Summer's Sun.
The poor Man's Farthing is worth more
Than all the Gold on Afric's Shore.
One Mite wrung from the Labrer's hands
Shall buy & sell the Miser's lands:
Or, if protected from on high,
Does that whole Nation sell & buy.
He who mocks the Infant's Faith
Shall be mock'd in Age & Death.
He who shall teach the Child to Doubt
The rotting Grave shall ne'er get out.
He who respects the Infant's faith
Triumph's over Hell & Death.
The Child's Toys & the Old Man's Reasons
Are the Fruits of the Two seasons.
The Questioner, who sits so sly,
Shall never know how to Reply.
He who replies to words of Doubt
Doth put the Light of Knowledge out.
The Strongest Poison ever known
Came from Caesar's Laurel Crown.
Nought can deform the Human Race
Like the Armour's iron brace.
When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow
To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow.
A Riddle or the Cricket's Cry
Is to Doubt a fit Reply.
The Emmet's Inch & Eagle's Mile
Make Lame Philosophy to smile.
He who Doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you Please.
If the Sun & Moon should doubt
They'd immediately Go out.
To be in a Passion you Good may do,
But no Good if a Passion is in you.
The Whore & Gambler, by the State
Licenc'd, build that Nation's Fate.
The Harlot's cry from Street to Street
Shall weave Old England's winding Sheet.
The Winner's Shout, the Loser's Curse,
Dance before dead England's Hearse.
Every Night & every Morn
Some to Misery are Born.
Every Morn & every Night
Some are Born to sweet Delight.
Some ar Born to sweet Delight,
Some are born to Endless Night.
We are led to Believe a Lie
When we see not Thro' the Eye
Which was Born in a Night to Perish in a Night
When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light.
God Appears & God is Light
To those poor Souls who dwell in the Night,
But does a Human Form Display
To those who Dwell in Realms of day.
~ William Blake


...and 'Salvation' (AKA: 'Thoroughly Lost To Logic') by David Sylvian:
When the little one came
A hole was blown open
A partial surrendering in the midst of knowing
And for an instance the constant heart shed its own tears
Wave upon wave carried me over
Beyond the peripheries of hope and fear
Deadening the voice of relentless biography
I stood at the center and danced at the extremities
Mapping the city as subtle as silence
Then on, outwards, into the darkness

When the crazy one came
She placed her finger on my forehead
And pushed on through

I woke up, face on fire
Spitting out diamonds
Thoroughly lost to logic
Craving her madness...























































































4 Those Interested Dept:
David and Ingrid (Chavez) with David's parents:

David & Ingrid's daughter Ameera-Daya (meaning miracle grace)

They have 3 beautiful children, and Ingrid is very happy raising them. Although she currently has no plans 2 record, she still writes, and can often be found on David's releases...
RIGHT CLICK & SAVE TARGET AS:
CLIP ONE:
www.geocities.com/Paris/L...uld_Be.mp3
(When I first heard the above a few years ago, it really affected & helped me. It is a valuable teaching that continues 2 help me 2 this very day.

CLIP TWO:
www.geocities.com/Paris/L...stence.mp3

CLIP THREE:[/u]
www.geocities.com/Paris/L...outine.mp3
(from the promotional EPK: 'Time Spent' - A film by David Sylvian & Ingrid Chavez')



*WHEN THE POETS DREAMED OF ANGELS EDIT*
[This message was edited Wed Oct 29 13:49:31 PST 2003 by bananacologne]

I havn't been disapointed yet Thanks everyone!
Check out theese poets...
Nikki Giovanni (my favorite )
Sonja Sanchez
Langston Hughes
Amiri Baraka
Cocoa Brown

- Keep'em coming -

"the secret of LOVE is respect
the secret of dejavu is coincidence
secret of a pearl is in a grain of sand
the secret of a man, is his desire to be nurtured,
secret of a woman, is when he realizes
she's a creature of the heart
an as for me...well, my secret, is underneath,
and may never be found

(author:self)

Lleena said:

Llee you are so talented! You should seriously consider finding an agent and getting a book deal.

REDEMPTION.
george herbert


HAVING been tenant long to a rich Lord,
Not thriving, I resolved to be bold,
And make a suit unto him, to afford
A new small-rented lease, and cancell th’ old.

In heaven at his manour I him sought :
They told me there, that he was lately gone
About some land, which he had dearly bought
Long since on earth, to take possession.

I straight return’d, and knowing his great birth,
Sought him accordingly in great resorts ;
In cities, theatres, gardens, parks, and courts :
At length I heard a ragged noise and mirth

Of theeves and murderers : there I him espied,
Who straight, Your suit is granted, said, and died.

Hair, hair everywhere,
Some have dark hair,
Some have alot,
I have fair hair,
and quite alot on my bot!

4 Christopher, from the heart with ...

A la tuhuelpa legria macarena
Que tuhuelce paralla legria cosabuena
A la tuhuelpa legria macarena Eeeh, macarena
A-Hai

eheheh

JDINTERACTIVE said:

the spanish lady in me is dancing. thank you

WickedDay said:

These R the 2 guys clapping..



..as U shake Ur and shake Ur maracas.

JDINTERACTIVE said:

lol the old guys from the video?

they were so hip

WickedDay said:

eheheh, they were 90s icons.

JDINTERACTIVE said:

true Poetry and a one hit wonder dance fad - go figure!

My personal favorite lyrics:
A song I wrote about my son's losing battle with speed addiction:

Is it so bad
Caught between a lie and what you believe
you wipe your tears off on your sleeve
and when you opened your eyes, you found that you'd been
brought to your knees.

You didn't ask for no help
you figure you'd save yourself
but by the time you could see
you found you were just two steps from hell.

Is it so bad that you hide your head in shame
looking for someone to blame for where you are.
is it so bad that you'd rather die on me
than ask for my empathy and a helping hand

And I'd give you my hand, no matter if I was mad
or amazed or ashamed
I can't believe the things that you did to yourself.

Is it so bad that you hide your head in shame
looking for someone to blame for where you are.
is it so bad that you'd rather die on me
than ask for my empathy and a helping hand

You don't have to suffer.

Here's the song:
http://www.soundclick.com...dmusic.htm

otan said:

Damn, that was really touching. Thank you for sharing

tears on the inside...


your love was one i kept with me..
it meant so much...
but now you have gone free...
and we have lost the touch...

you made me feel like i was above it all...
and that i had your heart...
with you...i knew id never fall...
you gave me that from the start...

they always said im so much fun...and have it all together...
but my heart is hurt inside...and it will stay forever...


just like the clown...
i keep a happy face...
for all of those around...
but that is not the case...

we danced all hours of the night...
holding you close to me...
we made love till the moring light...
our souls were so free...

they say im so much fun...and have it all together...
but my heart is hurt inside...and it will stay forever...

i miss you more than words can say...
and moving on is hard to do...

they say im so much fun...and have it all together...
but my heart is hurt inside...and it will stay forever...

yes ...it will stay forever...

She's not just another girl, she is from another world.
Bringing tidings of love and joy, not to just another boy.
She has got an angel's face, she is in, not out of place.
In this winter she was spring. Mom, you're not a passing thing.

Ce n'est pas une fille quelconque, elle arrive d'un otre monde.
Apportant la belle saison, amour et joi a ce garcon.
Elle a un visage d'ange, avec elle tout s'arrange.
En printemps elle change l'hiver. Maman, tu n'est pas ephemere

INGRID JONKER. VASTLY UNDER-APPRECIATED.

She wrote in southern african and has been translated into
many languages. The original south-african and dutch version
of this poem are by far superior to the english translation.

In fact, the Dutch version of this makes for my favorite
poem of all time. And I've read a lot of poetry. She may not
be the BEST of them all, but her style just has a certain
something that 'klicked' with me. The way she writes about
her unborn child and her fears of miscarriage is simply a
breathtaking ride.

Some of my other favs are

Sylvia Plath,
Dorothy Parker,
Byron,
Thomas Hardy [some of it, not everything],
Emily Brontë,
Osip Mandelstam,
Charles Baudelaire,
Arthur Rimbaud,


Anyway, here's the Ingrid Jonker poem:

Time of Waiting in Amsterdam

I can only say I have waited for you
through western nights
at bus stops
in lanes
by canals
on airfields
and the gallows of tears

And then you came
through the forlorn cities of Europe
I recognized you
I set out the table for you
with wine, with bread, with mercy
but imperturbably you turned your back
you detached your sex laid it down on the table
and without speaking a word
with your own smile
abandoned this world