fav poems

[neverr]

Had I the Heaven's Embroidered Cloths...
W. B. Yeats

Had I the heaven's embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light;
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams

 

[WannaWitness]

I love good poetry... various kinds.

Has anyone ever heard of the Salesian Collection?

 

[alabaster jar]

My favorite poet is Robert Frost. I forget how my favorite poem goes, will have to look it up. . . Yeats is great!

 

[neverr]

my bad - i did not add what the intention of this thread was for.

it's not so much for commentary, but more for us to be able to post our favourite poems to share with everyone else.

 

[neverr]

anon


within my soul


(a poem many south africans will understand)




Within my soul, within my mind,

There lies a place I cannot find.
Home of my heart. Land of my birth.
Smoke-coloured stone and flame-coloured earth.​

Electric skies. Shivering heat.
Blood-red clay beneath my feet.​

At night when finally alone,
I close my eyes - and I am home.
I kneel and touch the blood-warm sand
And feel the pulse beneath my hand
Of an ancient life too old to name,
In an ancient land too wild to tame.​

How can I show you what I feel?
How can I make this essence real?
I search for words in dumb frustration
To try and form some explanation,
But how can heart and soul be caught
In one-dimensional written thought?​

If love and longing are a "fire"
And man "consumed" by his desire,
Then this love is no simple flame
That mortal thought can hold or tame.​

As deep within the earth's own core
The love of home burns evermore.
But what is home? I hear them say,
This never was yours anyway.​

You have no birthright to this place,
Descendant from another race.
An immigrant? A pioneer?
You are no longer welcome here.​

Whoever said that love made sense?
"I love" is an "imperfect" tense.
To love in vain has been man's fate
From history to present date.​

I have no grounds for dispensation,
I know I have no home or nation.
For just one moment in the night
I am complete, my soul takes flight.​

For just one moment....then it's gone
And I am once again undone.
Never complete. Never whole.
White Skin and an African soul.​

​

 

[BlessedbyLove777]

me see what i wrote below lol

Love's Misery

Inside myself I see my soul
watching it through the eyes of my own I see in the mirror
Seeing that which engulfs all of the darkness within my heart
With the light of the one that constantly plauges my mind
the love, the light, the euphoria that makes me feel completely
serene
fire in my lungs burns at the same pace of the passionate one within my heart
Trying not to suffer through the pains of heartache
Alot of the time I seem to be lost in a vortex of mixed emotions
sometimes angry, sometimes so..different
So distant from myself as I focus on the face
Those eyes that also seem to see into my soul
So distant yet feeling so close
I breathe once more into the night air
Talking to myself in complete silence
The misery of love
The silence it fills me with
But I love it though
For it makes me feel like more than ever
To have someone who confides in your comfort
To have someone who will cry on your shoulder and look to you for advice
That special someone who makes what desperately seems like nothing manifest into something
How I long to just touch him
How I long to have him with me at this time listening to this song that reminds me of us
This....this feeling being shared throughout the galaxy
Throghout this pitiful world as we build another one of our own and only our own
But not having it here with me and only wishing for it
Id gladly die in this world
Id gladly live in this other world only to die in the other
With a gigantic smile on my face
Knowing that through the misery of this
I have the love Ive wanted for oh so long

 

[Swede]

Funeral Blues by W H Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.