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Time for some poetry you Philistines
- Thread starter 'Gear
- Start date
Loktar
Pinata Whacker
Half a league half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred:
'Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns' he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd ?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do & die,
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd & thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack & Russian
Reel'd from the sabre-stroke,
Shatter'd & sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse & hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder'd.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred:
'Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns' he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd ?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do & die,
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd & thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.
Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack & Russian
Reel'd from the sabre-stroke,
Shatter'd & sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse & hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder'd.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!
Ilyanna
moral imperfection
Riches I hold in light esteem
And Love I laugh to scorn
And lust of Fame was but a dream
That vanished with the morn– And if I pray, the only prayer
That moves my lips for me
Is–"Leave the heart that now I bear
And give me liberty."
Yes, as my swift days near their goal
'Tis all that I implore
Through life and death, a chainless soul
With courage to endure!
~Emily Bronte
And Love I laugh to scorn
And lust of Fame was but a dream
That vanished with the morn– And if I pray, the only prayer
That moves my lips for me
Is–"Leave the heart that now I bear
And give me liberty."
Yes, as my swift days near their goal
'Tis all that I implore
Through life and death, a chainless soul
With courage to endure!
~Emily Bronte
Loktar
Pinata Whacker
O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
I Know I Have Been Happiest
I know I have been happiest at your side;
But what is done, is done, and all's to be.
And small the good, to linger dolefully-
Gayly it lived, and gallantly it died.
I will not make you songs of hearts denied,
And you, being man, would have no tears of me,
And should I offer you fidelity,
You'd be, I think, a little terrified.
Yet this the need of woman, this her curse:
To range her little gifts, and give, and give,
Because the throb of giving's sweet to bear.
To you, who never begged me vows or verse,
My gift shall be my absence, while I live;
But after that, my dear, I cannot swear.
By Dorothy Parker
I know I have been happiest at your side;
But what is done, is done, and all's to be.
And small the good, to linger dolefully-
Gayly it lived, and gallantly it died.
I will not make you songs of hearts denied,
And you, being man, would have no tears of me,
And should I offer you fidelity,
You'd be, I think, a little terrified.
Yet this the need of woman, this her curse:
To range her little gifts, and give, and give,
Because the throb of giving's sweet to bear.
To you, who never begged me vows or verse,
My gift shall be my absence, while I live;
But after that, my dear, I cannot swear.
By Dorothy Parker
Donovan
beer, I want beer
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
Or rather, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
-Emily Dickinson
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
Or rather, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
-Emily Dickinson
curiousa2z
Be patient till the last.
William Butler Yeats - Stolen Child
WHERE dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.
WHERE dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.
Do not go gentle into that good night
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
By: Dylan Thomas
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
By: Dylan Thomas
curiousa2z
Be patient till the last.
btw, I've always wanted to be called a Philistine. *checks off that box*
curiousa2z
Be patient till the last.
YOU ARE THIS HAIKU
You are this haiku:
Dip your finger in water
Write on the pavement.
You are this haiku:
Dip your finger in water
Write on the pavement.
Donovan
beer, I want beer
Your thighs are appletrees
whose blossoms touch the sky.
Which sky? The sky
where Watteau hung a lady's
slipper. Your knees
are a southern breeze -- or
a gust of snow. Agh! what
sort of man was Fragonard?
-- As if that answered
anything. -- Ah, yes. Below
the knees, since the tune
drops that way, it is
one of those white summer days,
the tall grass of your ankles
flickers upon the shore --
Which shore? --
the sand clings to my lips --
Which shore?
Agh, petals maybe. How
should I know?
Which shore? Which shore?
-- the petals from some hidden
appletree -- Which shore?
I said petals from an appletree.
Portrait of a Lady William Carlos Williams
whose blossoms touch the sky.
Which sky? The sky
where Watteau hung a lady's
slipper. Your knees
are a southern breeze -- or
a gust of snow. Agh! what
sort of man was Fragonard?
-- As if that answered
anything. -- Ah, yes. Below
the knees, since the tune
drops that way, it is
one of those white summer days,
the tall grass of your ankles
flickers upon the shore --
Which shore? --
the sand clings to my lips --
Which shore?
Agh, petals maybe. How
should I know?
Which shore? Which shore?
-- the petals from some hidden
appletree -- Which shore?
I said petals from an appletree.
Portrait of a Lady William Carlos Williams
Hey, Hey What Can I Do?
Wanna tell you 'bout the girl I love
My she looks so fine
She's the only one that I been dreamin' of
Maybe someday she will be all mine
I wanna tell her that I love her so
I thrill with her every touch
I need to tell her she's the
only one I really love
I got a woman, wanna ball all day
I got a woman; she won't be true, no
I got a woman, stay drunk all the time
I said I got a little woman and she won't be true
Sunday morning when we go down to church
See the menfolk standin' in line
I said they come to pray to the Lord
With my little girl, looks so fine
In the evening when the sun is sinkin ' low
Everybody's with the one they love
I walk the town
Keep a-searchin' all around:
Lookin' for my street corner girl
In the bars, with the men who play guitars
Singin', Drinkin' and rememberin' the times
My little lover does a midnight shift
She followed around all the time
I guess there's just one thing
a -left for me to do
Gonna pack my bags and move on my way
Cause I got a worried mind
Sharin' what I thought was mine
Gonna leave her where the guitars play
I got a woman, she won't be true, no no
I got a woman, wanna ball all day
I got a woman, stay drunk all the time
I got a little woman and she won't be true
(Hey, hey what can I do)
I said she won't be true
(Hey, hey what can I say)
Hey, hey, what can I do
I got a woman she won't be true
Lord, hear what I say
I got a woman, wanna ball all day.
By: Led Zeppelin
Wanna tell you 'bout the girl I love
My she looks so fine
She's the only one that I been dreamin' of
Maybe someday she will be all mine
I wanna tell her that I love her so
I thrill with her every touch
I need to tell her she's the
only one I really love
I got a woman, wanna ball all day
I got a woman; she won't be true, no
I got a woman, stay drunk all the time
I said I got a little woman and she won't be true
Sunday morning when we go down to church
See the menfolk standin' in line
I said they come to pray to the Lord
With my little girl, looks so fine
In the evening when the sun is sinkin ' low
Everybody's with the one they love
I walk the town
Keep a-searchin' all around:
Lookin' for my street corner girl
In the bars, with the men who play guitars
Singin', Drinkin' and rememberin' the times
My little lover does a midnight shift
She followed around all the time
I guess there's just one thing
a -left for me to do
Gonna pack my bags and move on my way
Cause I got a worried mind
Sharin' what I thought was mine
Gonna leave her where the guitars play
I got a woman, she won't be true, no no
I got a woman, wanna ball all day
I got a woman, stay drunk all the time
I got a little woman and she won't be true
(Hey, hey what can I do)
I said she won't be true
(Hey, hey what can I say)
Hey, hey, what can I do
I got a woman she won't be true
Lord, hear what I say
I got a woman, wanna ball all day.
By: Led Zeppelin
'Gear
RIP 1970~2018
I am the man of constant sorrow
I've seen trouble all my days
I bid farewell to ol' Kentucky
The place where I was born and raised.
The place where he was born and raised
For six long years I've been in trouble,
no pleasure here on earth I've found
For in this world, I'm bound to ramble,
I have no friends to help me now.
He has no friends to help him now
It's fair thee well, my old true lover,
I never expect to see you again.
For I'm bound to ride that Northern Railroad,
perhaps I'll die upon this train
Perhaps he'll die upon this train
You can bury me in some deep valley,
For many years where I may lay.
And you may learn to love another
while I am sleeping in my grave.
While he is sleeping in his grave
Maybe your friends think I'm just a stranger
My face you never will see no more
But there is one promise that is given,
I'll meet you on Gods golden shore
He'll meet you on God's golden shore
-Ralph Stanley
I've seen trouble all my days
I bid farewell to ol' Kentucky
The place where I was born and raised.
The place where he was born and raised
For six long years I've been in trouble,
no pleasure here on earth I've found
For in this world, I'm bound to ramble,
I have no friends to help me now.
He has no friends to help him now
It's fair thee well, my old true lover,
I never expect to see you again.
For I'm bound to ride that Northern Railroad,
perhaps I'll die upon this train
Perhaps he'll die upon this train
You can bury me in some deep valley,
For many years where I may lay.
And you may learn to love another
while I am sleeping in my grave.
While he is sleeping in his grave
Maybe your friends think I'm just a stranger
My face you never will see no more
But there is one promise that is given,
I'll meet you on Gods golden shore
He'll meet you on God's golden shore
-Ralph Stanley
Donovan
beer, I want beer
"And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder. One of the four beasts saying, 'Come and see.' and I saw, and behold a white horse"
There's a man goin' 'round takin' names,
And he decides who to free and who to blame.
Everybody won't be treated all the same,
There'll be a golden ladder reachin' down.
When the man comes around.
The hairs on your arm will stand up,
At the terror in each sip and in each sup.
Will you partake of that last offered cup,
Or disappear into the potter's ground?
When the man comes around.
Hear the trumpets hear the pipers.
One hundred million angels singin'.
Multitudes are marchin' to the big kettledrum.
Voices callin', voices cryin'.
Some are born and some are dyin'.
It's alpha and omega's kingdom come,
And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree.
The virgins are all trimming their wicks,
The whirlwind is in the thorn tree.
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks,
Till Armageddon no shalam, no shalom.
Then the father hen will call his chickens home,
The wise man will bow down before the throne.
And at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns,
When the man comes around.
Whoever is unjust let him be unjust still.
Whoever is righteous let him be righteous still.
Whoever is filthy let him be filthy still.
Listen to the words long written down,
When the man comes around.
Hear the trumpets hear the pipers.
One hundred million angels singin'.
Multitudes are marchin' to the big kettledrum.
Voices callin', voices cryin'.
Some are born and some are dyin'.
It's alpha and omega's kingdom come,
And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree.
The virgins are all trimming their wicks,
The whirlwind is in the thorn trees.
It's hard for thee to kick against the prick,
In measured hundredweight and penny pound,
When the man comes around.
"And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts. And I looked, and behold a pale horse, and his name that sat on him was Death, and hell followed with him."
When the Man Comes Around Johnny Cash
There's a man goin' 'round takin' names,
And he decides who to free and who to blame.
Everybody won't be treated all the same,
There'll be a golden ladder reachin' down.
When the man comes around.
The hairs on your arm will stand up,
At the terror in each sip and in each sup.
Will you partake of that last offered cup,
Or disappear into the potter's ground?
When the man comes around.
Hear the trumpets hear the pipers.
One hundred million angels singin'.
Multitudes are marchin' to the big kettledrum.
Voices callin', voices cryin'.
Some are born and some are dyin'.
It's alpha and omega's kingdom come,
And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree.
The virgins are all trimming their wicks,
The whirlwind is in the thorn tree.
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks,
Till Armageddon no shalam, no shalom.
Then the father hen will call his chickens home,
The wise man will bow down before the throne.
And at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns,
When the man comes around.
Whoever is unjust let him be unjust still.
Whoever is righteous let him be righteous still.
Whoever is filthy let him be filthy still.
Listen to the words long written down,
When the man comes around.
Hear the trumpets hear the pipers.
One hundred million angels singin'.
Multitudes are marchin' to the big kettledrum.
Voices callin', voices cryin'.
Some are born and some are dyin'.
It's alpha and omega's kingdom come,
And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree.
The virgins are all trimming their wicks,
The whirlwind is in the thorn trees.
It's hard for thee to kick against the prick,
In measured hundredweight and penny pound,
When the man comes around.
"And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts. And I looked, and behold a pale horse, and his name that sat on him was Death, and hell followed with him."
When the Man Comes Around Johnny Cash
curiousa2z
Be patient till the last.
Black Black Heart - David Usher
[these are lyrics, but always thought they'd make a great poem too.]
Something ugly this way comes
Through my fingers sliding inside
All these blessings all these burns
I'm godless underneath your cover
Search for pleasure search for pain
In this world now I am undying
I unfurl my flag my nation helpless
Black black heart why would you offer more
Why would you make it easier on me to satisfy
I'm on fire I'm rotting to the core
I'm eating all your kings and queens
All your sex and your diamonds
As I begin to lose my grip
On these realities your sending
Taste your mind and taste your sex
I'm naked underneath your cover
Covers lie and we will bend and borrow
With the coming sign
The tide will take the sea will rise and time will rape
Black black heart why would you offer more
Why would you make it easier on me to satisfy
I'm on fire I'm rotting to the core
I'm eating all your kings and queens
All your sex and your diamonds
Black black heart why would you offer more
Why would you make it easier on me to satisfy
I'm on fire I'm rotting to the core
I'm eating all your kings and queens
All your sex and your diamonds
All your sex and your diamonds
All your sex and your diamonds
All your sex and your diamonds
All your sex and your diamonds
[these are lyrics, but always thought they'd make a great poem too.]
Something ugly this way comes
Through my fingers sliding inside
All these blessings all these burns
I'm godless underneath your cover
Search for pleasure search for pain
In this world now I am undying
I unfurl my flag my nation helpless
Black black heart why would you offer more
Why would you make it easier on me to satisfy
I'm on fire I'm rotting to the core
I'm eating all your kings and queens
All your sex and your diamonds
As I begin to lose my grip
On these realities your sending
Taste your mind and taste your sex
I'm naked underneath your cover
Covers lie and we will bend and borrow
With the coming sign
The tide will take the sea will rise and time will rape
Black black heart why would you offer more
Why would you make it easier on me to satisfy
I'm on fire I'm rotting to the core
I'm eating all your kings and queens
All your sex and your diamonds
Black black heart why would you offer more
Why would you make it easier on me to satisfy
I'm on fire I'm rotting to the core
I'm eating all your kings and queens
All your sex and your diamonds
All your sex and your diamonds
All your sex and your diamonds
All your sex and your diamonds
All your sex and your diamonds
Over-analysis of Emotional Underachievers
Oh what a tangled web we weave
When first we practice to deceive
When “yes” means “no”
And “stay” means “leave”
And we don’t know what the fuck to believe
You’re like a homeless shadow
I can’t explain - I’ll never understand
You trampled the wall and invaded my heart
Yet you couldn’t hold my hand
You pierced my flesh and tasted my sweat
Like a forlorn vampire you loved to breed
Til I slipped out while you screamed for more
Left you writhing for the feed
There’s but one me
But now that one is two
The one inside is blank, like you
Empty and cold
My heart has been raped
It’s bleeding all over my shoes
But I don’t care, I’ll be alright
Denial is the drug that I choose
“Choose to be strong, pretend nothing is wrong”
It’s the tune of the terminally sane
Like lyrics from a tired song
Begrudgingly I sing a long
The verse tattooed upon my brain
Now I drink myself sober and hide from the light
At least it gets me out at night
In the presence of strangers there’s comfort I find
Another tortured bad poet
No rythm, all rhyme
These words are so weak
And weak is so dead
I’m evicting your scars from their home in my head
No victim mentality is renting my soul
Your soul is vacant
Your soul’s a hole
P.s the key is still under the mat
By: I.B. PieTits
Oh what a tangled web we weave
When first we practice to deceive
When “yes” means “no”
And “stay” means “leave”
And we don’t know what the fuck to believe
You’re like a homeless shadow
I can’t explain - I’ll never understand
You trampled the wall and invaded my heart
Yet you couldn’t hold my hand
You pierced my flesh and tasted my sweat
Like a forlorn vampire you loved to breed
Til I slipped out while you screamed for more
Left you writhing for the feed
There’s but one me
But now that one is two
The one inside is blank, like you
Empty and cold
My heart has been raped
It’s bleeding all over my shoes
But I don’t care, I’ll be alright
Denial is the drug that I choose
“Choose to be strong, pretend nothing is wrong”
It’s the tune of the terminally sane
Like lyrics from a tired song
Begrudgingly I sing a long
The verse tattooed upon my brain
Now I drink myself sober and hide from the light
At least it gets me out at night
In the presence of strangers there’s comfort I find
Another tortured bad poet
No rythm, all rhyme
These words are so weak
And weak is so dead
I’m evicting your scars from their home in my head
No victim mentality is renting my soul
Your soul is vacant
Your soul’s a hole
P.s the key is still under the mat
By: I.B. PieTits
Enkephalen
My Stars!
Not Waving But Drowning
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
- Stevie Smith
Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.
Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.
Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.
- Stevie Smith
'Gear
RIP 1970~2018
In dem Schlosse Blay erblickt man
Die Tapete an den Wänden,
So die Gräfin Tripolis
Einst gestickt mit klugen Händen.
Ihre ganze Seele stickte
Sie hinein, und Liebesträne
Hat gefeit das seidne Bildwerk,
Welches darstellt jene Szene:
Wie die Gräfin den Rudèl
Sterbend sah am Strande liegen,
Und das Urbild ihrer Sehnsucht
Gleich erkannt' in seinen Zügen.
Auch Rudèl hat hier zum ersten
Und zum letzten Mal erblicket
In der Wirklichkeit die Dame,
Die ihn oft im Traum entzücket.
Über ihn beugt sich die Gräfin,
Hält ihn liebevoll umschlungen,
Küßt den todesbleichen Mund,
Der so schön ihr Lob gesungen!
Ach! der Kuß des Willkomms wurde
Auch zugleich der Kuß des Scheidens,
Und so leerten sie den Kelch
Höchster Lust und tiefsten Leidens.
In dem Schlosse Blay allnächtlich
Gibts ein Rauschen, Knistern, Beben,
Die Figuren der Tapete
Fangen plötzlich an zu leben.
Troubadour und Dame schütteln
Die verschlafnen Schattenglieder,
Treten aus der Wand und wandeln
Durch die Säle auf und nieder.
Trautes Flüstern, sanftes Tändeln,
Wehmutsüße Heimlichkeiten,
Und posthume Galantrie
Aus des Minnesanges Zeiten:
»Geoffroy! Mein totes Herz
Wird erwärmt von deiner Stimme,
In den längst erloschnen Kohlen
Fühl ich wieder ein Geglimme!«
»Melisande! Glück und Blume!
Wenn ich dir ins Auge sehe,
Leb ich auf - gestorben ist
Nur mein Erdenleid und -Wehe.«
»Geoffroy! Wir liebten uns
Einst im Traume, und jetzunder
Lieben wir uns gar im Tode
Gott Amour tat dieses Wunder!«
»Melisande! Was ist Traum?
Was ist Tod? Nur eitel Töne.
In der Liebe nur ist Wahrheit,
Und dich lieb ich, ewig Schöne.«
»Geoffroy! Wie traulich ist es
Hier im stillen Mondscheinsaale,
Möchte nicht mehr draußen wandeln
In des Tages Sonnenstrahle.«
»Melisande! teure Närrin,
Du bist selber Licht und Sonne,
Wo du wandelst, blüht der Frühling,
Sprossen Lieb und Maienwonne!«
Also kosen, also wandeln
Jene zärtlichen Gespenster
Auf und ab, derweil das Mondlicht
Lauschet durch die Bogenfenster.
Doch den holden Spuk vertreibend,
Kommt am End die Morgenröte -
Jene huschen scheu zurück
In die Wand, in die Tapete.
-Heinrich Heine
Die Tapete an den Wänden,
So die Gräfin Tripolis
Einst gestickt mit klugen Händen.
Ihre ganze Seele stickte
Sie hinein, und Liebesträne
Hat gefeit das seidne Bildwerk,
Welches darstellt jene Szene:
Wie die Gräfin den Rudèl
Sterbend sah am Strande liegen,
Und das Urbild ihrer Sehnsucht
Gleich erkannt' in seinen Zügen.
Auch Rudèl hat hier zum ersten
Und zum letzten Mal erblicket
In der Wirklichkeit die Dame,
Die ihn oft im Traum entzücket.
Über ihn beugt sich die Gräfin,
Hält ihn liebevoll umschlungen,
Küßt den todesbleichen Mund,
Der so schön ihr Lob gesungen!
Ach! der Kuß des Willkomms wurde
Auch zugleich der Kuß des Scheidens,
Und so leerten sie den Kelch
Höchster Lust und tiefsten Leidens.
In dem Schlosse Blay allnächtlich
Gibts ein Rauschen, Knistern, Beben,
Die Figuren der Tapete
Fangen plötzlich an zu leben.
Troubadour und Dame schütteln
Die verschlafnen Schattenglieder,
Treten aus der Wand und wandeln
Durch die Säle auf und nieder.
Trautes Flüstern, sanftes Tändeln,
Wehmutsüße Heimlichkeiten,
Und posthume Galantrie
Aus des Minnesanges Zeiten:
»Geoffroy! Mein totes Herz
Wird erwärmt von deiner Stimme,
In den längst erloschnen Kohlen
Fühl ich wieder ein Geglimme!«
»Melisande! Glück und Blume!
Wenn ich dir ins Auge sehe,
Leb ich auf - gestorben ist
Nur mein Erdenleid und -Wehe.«
»Geoffroy! Wir liebten uns
Einst im Traume, und jetzunder
Lieben wir uns gar im Tode
Gott Amour tat dieses Wunder!«
»Melisande! Was ist Traum?
Was ist Tod? Nur eitel Töne.
In der Liebe nur ist Wahrheit,
Und dich lieb ich, ewig Schöne.«
»Geoffroy! Wie traulich ist es
Hier im stillen Mondscheinsaale,
Möchte nicht mehr draußen wandeln
In des Tages Sonnenstrahle.«
»Melisande! teure Närrin,
Du bist selber Licht und Sonne,
Wo du wandelst, blüht der Frühling,
Sprossen Lieb und Maienwonne!«
Also kosen, also wandeln
Jene zärtlichen Gespenster
Auf und ab, derweil das Mondlicht
Lauschet durch die Bogenfenster.
Doch den holden Spuk vertreibend,
Kommt am End die Morgenröte -
Jene huschen scheu zurück
In die Wand, in die Tapete.
-Heinrich Heine
Ilyanna
moral imperfection
Yes, I’m truly a dunce
Living among trees and plants.
Please don’t question me about illusion and enlightenment --
This old fellow just likes to smile to himself.
I wade across streams with bony legs,
And carry a bag about in fine spring weather.
That’s my life,
And the world owes me nothing.
~Ryokan
Living among trees and plants.
Please don’t question me about illusion and enlightenment --
This old fellow just likes to smile to himself.
I wade across streams with bony legs,
And carry a bag about in fine spring weather.
That’s my life,
And the world owes me nothing.
~Ryokan
'Gear
RIP 1970~2018
1. Ich weiß nicht, was soll es bedeuten,
Daß ich so traurig bin,
Ein Märchen aus uralten Zeiten,
Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.
Die Luft ist kühl und es dunkelt,
Und ruhig fließt der Rhein;
Der Gipfel des Berges funkelt,
Im Abendsonnenschein.
2. Die schönste Jungfrau sitzet
Dort oben wunderbar,
Ihr gold'nes Geschmeide blitzet,
Sie kämmt ihr goldenes Haar,
Sie kämmt es mit goldenem Kamme,
Und singt ein Lied dabei;
Das hat eine wundersame,
Gewalt'ge Melodei.
3. Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe,
Ergreift es mit wildem Weh;
Er schaut nicht die Felsenriffe,
Er schaut nur hinauf in die Höh'.
Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen
Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn,
Und das hat mit ihrem Singen,
Die Loreley getan.
-Heinrich Heine, 1822
Daß ich so traurig bin,
Ein Märchen aus uralten Zeiten,
Das kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.
Die Luft ist kühl und es dunkelt,
Und ruhig fließt der Rhein;
Der Gipfel des Berges funkelt,
Im Abendsonnenschein.
2. Die schönste Jungfrau sitzet
Dort oben wunderbar,
Ihr gold'nes Geschmeide blitzet,
Sie kämmt ihr goldenes Haar,
Sie kämmt es mit goldenem Kamme,
Und singt ein Lied dabei;
Das hat eine wundersame,
Gewalt'ge Melodei.
3. Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe,
Ergreift es mit wildem Weh;
Er schaut nicht die Felsenriffe,
Er schaut nur hinauf in die Höh'.
Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen
Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn,
Und das hat mit ihrem Singen,
Die Loreley getan.
-Heinrich Heine, 1822