Poetry Corner

[freakyfreaky]

Re: Poetry Corner

"Poem of Perfect Miracles"

REALISM is mine, my miracles,
Take all of the rest—take freely—I keep
but my own—I give only of them,

I offer them without end—I offer them to you
wherever your feet can carry you, or your
eyes reach.


Why! who makes much of a miracle?
As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward
the sky,

Or wade with naked feet along the beach, just in
the edge of the water,

Or stand under trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love—or sleep in
the bed at night with any one I love,

Or sit at the table at dinner with my mother,
Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,
Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive, of an
August forenoon,

Or animals feeding in the fields,

Or birds—or the wonderfulness of insects in the
air,

Or the wonderfulness of the sun-down—or of
stars shining so quiet and bright,

Or the exquisite, delicate, thin curve of the new-
moon in May,

Or whether I go among those I like best, and that
like me best—mechanics, boatmen, farmers,

Or among the savans—or to the soiree—or to
the opera,

Or stand a long while looking at the movements
of machinery,

Or behold children at their sports,
Or the admirable sight of the perfect old man, or
the perfect old woman,

Or the sick in hospitals, or the dead carried to
burial,

Or my own eyes and figure in the glass,
These, with the rest, one and all, are to me
miracles,

The whole referring—yet each distinct and in its
place.


To me, every hour of the light and dark is a
miracle,

Every inch of space is a miracle,
Every square yard of the surface of the earth is
spread with the same,

Every cubic foot of the interior swarms with the
same;

Every spear of grass—the frames, limbs, organs,
of men and women, and all that concerns
them,

All these to me are unspeakably perfect miracles.

To me the sea is a continual miracle,
The fishes that swim—the rocks—the motion
of the waves—the ships, with men in them
—what stranger miracles are there?

Whitman, Walt. Leaves of Grass, p. 279-281 (1856).

[MrHyeSev]

Re: Poetry Corner

1, 2, buckle my shoe.
3, 4, shut the door.
5, 6, pick up sticks.
7, 8, lay them straight.
9, 10, a BIG FAT HEN.

You should get an award for this poem.

[freakyfreaky]

Re: Poetry Corner

The Oobleck Spell of the Magic Men in Dr. Seuss' "Bartholomew and the Oobleck"

Oh, snow and rain are not enough!
Oh, we must make some brand-new stuff!
So feed the fire with wet mouse hair,
Burn an onion, burn a chair.
Burn a whisker from your chin
And burn a long sour lizard skin.
Burn yellow twigs and burn red rust
And burn a stocking full of dust.
Make magic smoke, green, thick and hot!
(It sure smells dreadful, does it not?)
That means the smoke is now just right
So quick! Before the day gets light,
Go, magic smoke! Go high! Go high!
Go rise into the kingdom's sky!
Go make the oobleck tumble down
On every street, in every town!
Go make the wondrous oobleck fall!
Oh, bring down oobleck on us all!

[iFemale]

Re: Poetry Corner

1, 2, buckle my shoe.
3, 4, shut the door.
5, 6, pick up sticks.
7, 8, lay them straight.
9, 10, a BIG FAT HEN.

[iFemale]

Re: Poetry Corner

^ Best poem, evar.

[ara87]

Re: Poetry Corner

Death
Life
Day
Night

Red
Blue

Green
Orange

Water
Pee
You
Me

Dentist
Mortician
Proctologist
Pippin

[UrMistake]

Re: Poetry Corner

THE LONG MARCH by Lilly Thomassian


They told us the soldiers were coming.
My father said we shouldn't worry.
The priest said a prayer. We kissed the holy crossed. He blessed us.
Old and young; we prayed in silence.
My little sister cried.
We heard them coming.
There were so many of them marching in the streets that the walls of the house shook from the ground.

The door bursts open. They are inside.
They drag my father out of the house. They tie his arms behind his back.
They round up all the strong men of our village. All have their arms tied behind their backs… We never see them again.
They say we are being relocated.
I did not know that word. Relocated.
They tell us to move forward.

Forward... Always forward...

I manage to hide a silver spoon in my pocket.
We start walking down the road.
The men walk in front.
Women carry the children.
No one speaks.
Old people begin trailing behind.
When the sun finally comes up, I see a long line of people stretched all the way to the sky.

Forward... always forward.

A young man breaks free from the group and runs towards the field. They shoot him in the back. We can see his white shirt on the dry land like a flowering bush.
I see an old woman and an old man sit side by side under the shadow of a tree... They refuse to stand up again... The soldiers shoot them.
Soldiers take a young woman behind the bushes. They laugh. She screams. She never comes out.
The baby in a young woman's arms cries for milk.
Our feet bleed.
The baby keeps crying for milk.
When we pass by the villages people shut their windows. Others throw rocks at us.
The baby in the young woman’s arms stops crying. She keeps carrying him.
The sky, dark with tears.
The road, silent with shame.
The road never stops. The walk never ends.

The man beside me trips and falls.
One after another they keep falling to the ground.
We stop burying the dead. They are too many.
We stop crying for the dead. They are too many.

Forward...always forward.

When my little sister falls, I don't stop for her.
As soon as they drop to the ground vultures start pecking at them. Sometimes they are still alive.
When I look behind I see white patches strewn along the road. One of them is my little sister.
When our feet can’t carry us anymore we crawl on our hands and knees.
We can’t stop walking.
We keep moving.

Forward…always forward.

One of us has to stay alive.
One of us has to remember.
One of us has to speak the truth.

Re: Poetry Corner

Do you know me?
Do you know what I'm all about
Do you listen to the words I say
Or do you just block them out
I am here for you
That i know you know
This is not a game
This is not a show
This is straight up for real
Did you know
Do you know how much it pains me to see
That you really dont know me
That you will judge the outter surface
And dont realize the inner purpose
To feel loves true bliss
It is your fault that you missed
Missed out on an oppritunity to feel
To feel a love thats just so real
I;'m going to ask the qestion just one more time
The question that flows in and out my mind
Will you answer it
You probably wont
So
Do you know me ?

No You Dont!!!

[freakyfreaky]

Re: Poetry Corner

TRY TO REMEMBER (SEPTEMBER)

http://www.stlyrics.com/lyrics/thefantasticks/trytoremember.htm

Lyrics by Tom Jones and Harvey Schmidt

Try to remember the kind of September
When life was slow and oh, so mellow.
Try to remember the kind of September
When grass was green and grain was yellow.
Try to remember the kind of September
When you were a tender and callow fellow.
Try to remember, and if you remember,
Then follow.

Follow, follow, follow, follow, follow,
Follow, follow, follow, follow.

Try to remember when life was so tender
That no one wept except the willow.
Try to remember when life was so tender
That dreams were kept beside your pillow.
Try to remember when life was so tender
That love was an ember about to billow.
Try to remember, and if you remember,
Then follow.

Follow, follow, follow, follow, follow,
Follow, follow, follow, follow.

Follow, follow, follow, follow, follow,
Follow, follow, follow, follow.

Follow, follow, follow, follow, follow,
Follow, follow, follow, follow.

Deep in December, it's nice to remember,
Although you know the snow will follow.
Deep in December, it's nice to remember,
Without a hurt the heart is hollow.
Deep in December, it's nice to remember,
The fire of September that made us mellow.
Deep in December, our hearts should remember
And follow

---------------------------------------------

"September"
Maurice white, charles stepney & verdine white

http://www.lyricsfreak.com/e/earth+wind+and+fire/september_20044785.html

Do you remember the 21st night of september?
Love was changing the minds of pretenders
While chasing the clouds away

Our hearts were ringing
In the key that our souls were singing.
As we danced in the night,
Remember how the stars stole the night away

Ba de ya - say do you remember
Ba de ya - dancing in september
Ba de ya - never was a cloudy day

My thoughts are with you
Holding hands with your heart to see you
Only blue talk and love,
Remember how we knew love was here to stay

Now december found the love that we shared in september.
Only blue talk and love,
Remember the true love we share today

Ba de ya - say do you remember
Ba de ya - dancing in september
Ba de ya - never was a cloudy day

Ba de ya - say do you remember
Ba de ya - dancing in september
Ba de ya - golden dreams were shiny days

-------------------------------------------------

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iknEJf9cPeY

[iFemale]

Re: Poetry Corner

I would not, could not, in a box.
I could not, would not, with a fox.
I will not eat them with a mouse.
I will not eat them in a house.
I will not eat them here or there.
I will not eat them anywhere.
I do not eat green eggs and ham.
I do not like them, Sam-I-am!!