Author Topic: Poems thread  (Read 87820 times)


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Re: Poems thread
« Reply #510 on: Feb 12, 2015, 11:27:29 PM »
Cast all your votes for dancing

I know the voice of depression
Still calls to you. 
I know those habits that can ruin your life
Still send their invitations. 
But you are with the Friend now
And look so much stronger. 
You can stay that way
And even bloom! 
Keep squeezing drops of the Sun
From your prayers and work and music
And from your companions' beautiful laughter. 
Keep squeezing drops of the Sun
From the sacred hands and glance of your Beloved
And, my dear,
From the most insignificant movements
Of your own holy body. 
Learn to recognize the counterfeit coins
That may buy you just a moment of pleasure,
But then drag you for days
Like a broken man
Behind a farting camel. 
You are with the Friend now.
Learn what actions of yours delight Him,
What actions of yours bring freedom
And Love.
Whenever you say God's name, dear pilgrim,
My ears wish my head was missing
So they could finally kiss each other
And applaud all your nourishing wisdom! 
O keep squeezing drops of the Sun
From your prayers and work and music
And from your companions' beautiful laughter 
And from the most insignificant movements
Of your own holy body. 
Now, sweet one,
Be wise.
Cast all your votes for Dancing!



  • Guest
Re: Poems thread
« Reply #511 on: Feb 12, 2015, 11:38:42 PM »
Circles by Hafiz

The moon is most happy
When it is full.

And the sun always looks
Like a perfectly minted gold coin

That was just Polished
And places in flight
By God’s playful Kiss.

And so many varieties of fruit
Hang plump and round

From branches that seem like a Sculptor’s hands.

I see the beautiful curve of a pregnant belly
Shaped by a soul within,

And the Earth itself,
And the planets and the Spheres–

I have gotten the hint:

There is something about circles
The Beloved likes.


  • Guest
Re: Poems thread
« Reply #512 on: Feb 26, 2015, 11:06:22 PM »
Wild Geese

By Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.


  • Guest
Re: Poems thread
« Reply #513 on: Apr 19, 2015, 10:40:27 PM »
Here are the two 'scuppernong' poems.

Minnie Bruce Pratt

July is over, four hot weeks
Of August, two long weeks in September,
And then I'll be in your bedroom, in your bed,
Nibbling your pink earlobe.

Even in the city, our day will be
Luscious, your hair black and twining
In my hands like the wild muscadine grape.
Scuppernong brown, your nipples will be full
Against my mouth. We will look through
Barred windows at night for the harvest moon.
Equinox soon will diminish the light.
Tell me, love, how to speed time now,
How to slow it then, when I call your name.



Wild Peaches
Elinor Wylie

When the world turns completely upside down
You say we’ll emigrate to the Eastern Shore
Aboard a river-boat from Baltimore;
We’ll live among wild peach trees, miles from town,
You’ll wear a coonskin cap, and I a gown
Homespun, dyed butternut’s dark gold color.
Lost, like your lotus-eating ancestor,
We’ll swim in milk and honey till we drown.

The winter will be short, the summer long,
The autumn amber-hued, sunny and hot,
Tasting of cider and of scuppernong;
All seasons sweet, but autumn best of all.
The squirrels in their silver fur will fall
Like falling leaves, like fruit, before your shot.


The autumn frosts will lie upon the grass
Like bloom on grapes of purple-brown and gold.
The misted early mornings will be cold;
The little puddles will be roofed with glass.
The sun, which burns from copper into brass,
Melts these at noon, and makes the boys unfold
Their knitted mufflers; full as they can hold
Fat pockets dribble chestnuts as they pass.

Peaches grow wild, and pigs can live in clover;
A barrel of salted herrings lasts a year;
The spring begins before the winter’s over.
By February you may find the skins
Of garter snakes and water moccasins
Dwindled and harsh, dead-white and cloudy-clear.


When April pours the colors of a shell
Upon the hills, when every little creek
Is shot with silver from the Chesapeake
In shoals new-minted by the ocean swell,
When strawberries go begging, and the sleek
Blue plums lie open to the blackbird’s beak,
We shall live well — we shall live very well.

The months between the cherries and the peaches
Are brimming cornucopias which spill
Fruits red and purple, sombre-bloomed and black;
Then, down rich fields and frosty river beaches
We’ll trample bright persimmons, while you kill
Bronze partridge, speckled quail, and canvasback.


Down to the Puritan marrow of my bones
There’s something in this richness that I hate.
I love the look, austere, immaculate,
Of landscapes drawn in pearly monotones.
There’s something in my very blood that owns
Bare hills, cold silver on a sky of slate,
A thread of water, churned to milky spate
Streaming through slanted pastures fenced with stones.

I love those skies, thin blue or snowy gray,
Those fields sparse-planted, rendering meagre sheaves;
That spring, briefer than apple-blossom’s breath,
Summer, so much too beautiful to stay,
Swift autumn, like a bonfire of leaves,
And sleepy winter, like the sleep of death.


  • Guest
Re: Poems thread
« Reply #514 on: May 06, 2015, 11:46:41 AM »
^ :)

Offline M&M

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Re: Poems thread
« Reply #515 on: Nov 13, 2015, 02:24:24 PM »
As i sit here
i ponder the past year
Everything that i have been through
All that i have seen through
All of the pain
That life has thrown my way again

i grab this chance
To do a happy dance
Happily dancing with words
And i dance as free as the birds
This change brings forth new ops
My chance to say goodbye to loss

The change i’ve been expecting
That change is  here and its Coming
Insert 2 lines here
It is welcomed with lucky charms
Welcomed with my humbled and openly loving armS

Offline sarah_m

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Re: Poems thread
« Reply #516 on: Apr 26, 2017, 06:51:42 PM »
this thread is beautiful.  :)
"dreamers, they never learn, they never learn.."

Offline sarah_m

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Re: Poems thread
« Reply #517 on: Jun 05, 2017, 08:02:28 PM »
Love's Draft by Paul Laurence Dunbar.

The draft of love was cool and sweet
You gave me in the cup,
But, ah, love's fire is keen and fleet
And I am burning up.
Unless the tears I shed for you
Shall quench this burning flame,
It will consume me through and through
And leave but ash--a name.


Lyric by Francis Warner

There is no splendour in the sun
While you are absent from my arms,
And though I search till day is done
Remission in oblivion,
Watching the busy crowd go past
Driving the brain, callousing the palms,
No high philosophy rings true
Nor contentment come, till you
Bring peace of mind, and rest at last.
"dreamers, they never learn, they never learn.."