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Poetry Corner

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  • Re: Poetry Corner

    I used to care,
    On my time of spare.
    Now, I swear on Fred Astaire,
    I don't compare.
    Not even the strands of your hair...
    Can snare what I bare.

    Comment


    • Re: Poetry Corner

      Actors must make us think
      they 're real
      Our friends must not
      make us think we're acting

      They are, though, in slow
      Time

      My wild words
      slip into fusion
      & risk losing
      the solid ground

      So stranger, get
      wilder stilll

      Probe the Highlands

      - Morrison, Jim. Wilderness, vol. 1, p. 117
      Between childhood, boyhood,
      adolescence
      & manhood (maturity) there
      should be sharp lines drawn w/
      Tests, deaths, feats, rites
      stories, songs & judgements

      - Morrison, Jim. Wilderness, vol. 1, p. 22

      Comment


      • Re: Poetry Corner

        Bowery Blues

        The story of man
        Makes me sick
        Inside, outside,
        I don't know why
        Something so conditional
        And all talk
        Should hurt me so.

        I am hurt
        I am scared
        I want to live
        I want to die
        I don't know
        Where to turn
        In the Void
        And when
        To cut
        Out

        For no Church told me
        No Guru holds me
        No advice
        Just stone
        Of New York
        And on the cafeteria
        We hear
        The saxophone
        O dead Ruby
        Died of Shot
        In Thirty Two,
        Sounding like old times
        And de bombed
        Empty decapitated
        Murder by the clock.

        And I see Shadows
        Dancing into Doom
        In love, holding
        TIght the lovely asses
        Of the little girls
        In love with sex
        Showing themselves
        In white undergarments
        At elevated windows
        Hoping for the Worst.

        I can't take it
        Anymore
        If I can't hold
        My little behind
        To me in my room

        Then it's goodbye
        Sangsara
        For me
        Besides
        Girls aren't as good
        As they look
        And Samadhi
        Is better
        Than you think
        When it starts in
        Hitting your head
        In with Buzz
        Of glittergold
        Heaven's Angels
        Wailing

        Saying

        We've been waiting for you
        Since Morning, Jack
        Why were you so long
        Dallying in the sooty room?
        This transcendental Brilliance
        Is the better part
        (of Nothingness
        I sing)

        Okay.
        Quit.
        Mad.
        Stop.

        - Kerouac, Jack

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


        I am a guide to the labyrinth
        Come & See me
        in the green hotel
        Rm. 32
        I will be there after 9:30 P.M.
        I will show you the girl of the ghetto
        I will show you the burning well
        I will show you strange people
        haunted, beast-like on the
        verge of evolution

        -Fear the Lords who are
        secret among us

        -- Morrison, Jim. Wilderness, vol. 1, p. 84
        Between childhood, boyhood,
        adolescence
        & manhood (maturity) there
        should be sharp lines drawn w/
        Tests, deaths, feats, rites
        stories, songs & judgements

        - Morrison, Jim. Wilderness, vol. 1, p. 22

        Comment


        • 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!!

          Comment


          • Re: Poetry Corner

            TRY TO REMEMBER (SEPTEMBER)
            Try To Remember lyrics: Music: Harvey Schmidt Lyrics: Tom Jones Book: Tom Jones Premiere: Tuesday, May 3, 1960 Try to remember the kind of Septe

            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

            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

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

            Enjoy the videos and music you love, upload original content, and share it all with friends, family, and the world on YouTube.
            Between childhood, boyhood,
            adolescence
            & manhood (maturity) there
            should be sharp lines drawn w/
            Tests, deaths, feats, rites
            stories, songs & judgements

            - Morrison, Jim. Wilderness, vol. 1, p. 22

            Comment


            • 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!!!

              Comment


              • 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.

                Comment


                • Re: Poetry Corner

                  Death
                  Life
                  Day
                  Night

                  Red
                  Blue

                  Green
                  Orange

                  Water
                  Pee
                  You
                  Me

                  Dentist
                  Mortician
                  Proctologist
                  Pippin

                  Comment


                  • Re: Poetry Corner

                    ^ Best poem, evar.

                    Comment


                    • 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.

                      Comment

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