poetry

[tetractys]

Does anyone here write poetry? I thought I'd share a few poems of mine...

Here a man tall and broad,
here a man short and thin,
waking, sleeping on their sides,
on their backs turning again,
to the left and right,
so carefully adjusted;
peacefully they lay and dream.
Now wardrums of the city
sound upon this silent night
and yellow birds flap by above,
startled by the many notes
resounding in the air.
How great is their misfortune ––
a private night is stolen from them.


Here's one of my love poems...


A song is singing in my soul.
I heard the chorus in your voice,
Now the melody is in my spirit.
It was your music first.
You spoke to me, and
Every note my lips refrained.
No other music is so beautiful.
I lay beside you, my thoughts all here ––
No thorn is in my side.

Oh, face but of eyes,
Let us see all of each other.
Every part of you is perfect
For its imperfection.
Spoken words are nothing!
You, you! Is there a greater one?
Learn my language with your lips!
Close the door, open wide the window!
Lay beside me in the moonlight!
That is all I can express.


... and another ....

The wind blows, and the sky is fierce,
And the thunder keeps whispering.
Who sleeps when the earth shakes?
Long, long hours, I think of you.
A day elapses and the sky is cloudy.
I am awake and have not slept.
The genial wind from the south
Blows on the wet, tossed grass.
I fall asleep in the warm afternoon.
Dreaming of you, I awake.




Much more where these came from...

[partisan]

All i have is a voice
to undo the folded lie,
the romantic lie in the brain
of the sensual man-in-the-street
and the lie of authority
whoses buildings grope the sky
there is no such thing as the state
and no one exists alone;
hunger allows no choice
to the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die!
(Thats my fav passage from W H auden’s poem-september 1st 1939)

[tetractys]

I've never read that poem, but I like it!

One of my favorite poems, Leaves of Grass by Whitman, ends like this...

I depart as air—I shake my white locks at the runaway sun;
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags. 1335

I bequeathe myself to the dirt, to grow from the grass I love;
If you want me again, look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am, or what I mean;
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood. 1340

Failing to fetch me at first, keep encouraged;
Missing me one place, search another;
I stop somewhere, waiting for you.