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Trent2001
Fresh Boarder
Posts:5

Re: Poet's Corner..Post Your Favorites

#250623 1 year, 5 months ago
And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.


Last lines of
The Day is Done
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 1807–1882

This always helps me justify going to shows.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Chester, nycdave, SunshineSue, Paige MoonDancer, Wundurland
Wundurland
Expert Boarder
Posts:620

Re: Poet's Corner..Post Your Favorites

#250795 1 year, 5 months ago
Trent2001 wrote:
And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares, that infest the day,
Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs,
And as silently steal away.


Last lines of
The Day is Done
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 1807–1882

This always helps me justify going to shows.


too true. absolutely love it. thank you.
...was staring at the little blotch of sunshine with a special intensity, considering lying down in it.

-JD Salinger
nycdave
Platinum Boarder
Posts:5579

Re: Poet's Corner..Post Your Favorites

#251000 1 year, 5 months ago
Words Fail
By: Shaye Chesney

Where words fail,
Music speaks
But the music is your knife
And my heart is the sheet.
Writing it,
It feels so wrong
But make it loud,
And make it long;
A never ending
Love song.
Twisted as a
Lie does grow,
Beautiful as the life
We know.
Though the truth does mingle
Down below,
Hidden from light
It'll never show.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Chester, PMoondancer , SunshineSue
Wundurland
Expert Boarder
Posts:620

Re: Poet's Corner..Post Your Favorites

#251169 1 year, 5 months ago
Please Open the Window and Let Me In (Allen Ginsberg)

Who is the shroudy stranger of the night,
Whose brow is mouldering green, whose reddened eye
Hides near the window trellis in dim light,
And gapes at old men, and makes children cry?

Who is the laughing walker of the street,
The alley mummy stinking of the bone,
To dance unfixed, though bound in shadow feet,
Behind the child that creeps on legs of stone?

Who is the hungry mocker of the maze,
And haggard gate-ghost, hanging by the door,
The double mummer in whose hooded gaze
World has beckoned unto world once more?
...was staring at the little blotch of sunshine with a special intensity, considering lying down in it.

-JD Salinger
The following user(s) said Thank You: Chester, nycdave, SunshineSue, ChefArugula
nycdave
Platinum Boarder
Posts:5579

Re: Poet's Corner..Post Your Favorites

#251354 1 year, 5 months ago
SWEET DREAMY DAYS
By: Robert M. Petersen

sweet dreamy days
in the cabin
again like Kerouac
--------------“nathin’
---------------to do”
take my time with
breakfast
what the hurry:
.............in just
.............2 days
3 new poems & some
prose

----------------evenings
read Paul Horgan
GREAT RIVER history
of the rio grande
in 2 volumes

...........or Ginsberg at
............ankor wat

............or James Agee:
............LET US NOW PRAISE
--------------------FAMOUS MEN

--------------------the bitterness
--------------------of detail

.............sweet smokey wood
.............inside like
---------------------“living in a
---------------------vermeer”

............(Lewie Welch)

smoke some good mota
madrone wood in
the stove

............warmth for
............the weary soul
Last Edit: 1 year, 5 months ago by nycdave.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Chester, SunshineSue, Paige MoonDancer
nycdave
Platinum Boarder
Posts:5579

Re: Poet's Corner..Post Your Favorites

#251359 1 year, 5 months ago
MORNING RAGA for Phil Lesh
By: Robert M. Peterson

i sit in a small room with a wall full of ghosts
at breakfast the wild herons feed at my door.
after noon the blues cool & a tide moves outward
a million years & our bones shall bleach pale in the sun.

the smoke that burns the inside of my skull
allows me to hear the voice of a few in large places.
like a silent cloud-shadow crossing the window
the eyes & moments of this generation are not wasted.

1970
The following user(s) said Thank You: Chester, SunshineSue, Paige MoonDancer, Wundurland
SunshineSue
Platinum Boarder
Posts:31835
Life is sweeter for this!

Re: Poet's Corner..Post Your Favorites

#256919 1 year, 4 months ago
A Dream Within A Dream by Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?


.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Chester, nycdave, Paige MoonDancer
nycdave
Platinum Boarder
Posts:5579

Re: Poet's Corner..Post Your Favorites

#258188 1 year, 4 months ago
Dreams
By: Langston Hughes

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
-------------------------------------
Dream Deferred
By: Langston Hughes

What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
Like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
Last Edit: 1 year, 4 months ago by nycdave.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Chester, SunshineSue, Paige MoonDancer
It All Rolls Into One
Junior Boarder
Posts:55

Re: Poet's Corner..Post Your Favorites

#258344 1 year, 4 months ago
The Idea of Ancestry
by Etheridge Knight

1
Taped to the wall of my cell are 47 pictures: 47 black
faces: my father, mother, grandmothers (1 dead), grand-
fathers (both dead), brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts,
cousins (1st and 2nd), nieces, and nephews. They stare
across the space at me sprawling on my bunk. I know
their dark eyes, they know mine. I know their style,
they know mine. I am all of them, they are all of me;
they are farmers, I am a thief, I am me, they are thee.

I have at one time or another been in love with my mother,
1 grandmother, 2 sisters, 2 aunts (1 went to the asylum),
and 5 cousins. I am now in love with a 7-yr-old niece
(she sends me letters in large block print, and
her picture is the only one that smiles at me).

I have the same name as 1 grandfather, 3 cousins, 3 nephews,
and 1 uncle. The uncle disappeared when he was 15, just took
off and caught a freight (they say). He's discussed each year
when the family has a reunion, he causes uneasiness in
the clan, he is an empty space. My father's mother, who is 93
and who keeps the Family Bible with everbody's birth dates
(and death dates) in it, always mentions him. There is no
place in her Bible for "whereabouts unknown."

2
Each fall the graves of my grandfathers call me, the brown
hills and red gullies of mississippi send out their electric
messages, galvanizing my genes. Last yr/like a salmon quitting
the cold ocean-leaping and bucking up his birth stream/I
hitchhiked my way from LA with 16 caps in my pocket and a
monkey on my back. And I almost kicked it with the kinfolks.
I walked barefooted in my grandmother's backyard/I smelled the
old
land and the woods/I sipped cornwhiskey from fruit jars with the
men/
I flirted with the women/I had a ball till the caps ran out
and my habit came down. That night I looked at my grandmother
and split/my guts were screaming for junk/but I was almost
contented/I had almost caught up with me.
(The next day in Memphis I cracked a croaker's crib for a fix.)

This yr there is a gray stone wall damming my stream, and when
the falling leaves stir my genes, I pace my cell or flop on my bunk
and stare at 47 black faces across the space. I am all of them,
they are all of me, I am me, they are thee, and I have no children
to float in the space between
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Wundurland
Expert Boarder
Posts:620

Re: Poet's Corner..Post Your Favorites

#258606 1 year, 4 months ago
When I too long have looked upon your face,
Wherein for me a brightness unobscured
Save by the mists of brightness has its place,
And terrible beauty not to be endured,
I turn away reluctant from your light,
And stand irresolute, a mind undone,
A silly, dazzled thing deprived of a sight
From having looked too long upon the sun.
Then is my daily life a narrow room
In which a little while, uncertainly,
Surrounded by impenetrable gloom,
Among familiar things grown strange to me
Making my way, I pause, and feel, and hark,
Till I become accustomed to the dark.

-Edna St. Vincent Millay
...was staring at the little blotch of sunshine with a special intensity, considering lying down in it.

-JD Salinger
The following user(s) said Thank You: Chester, PMoondancer , nycdave, SunshineSue
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