abasio Posted April 9, 2009 Share Posted April 9, 2009 I am looking for some books on Poetry. But not flowery wishy washy crap that make us read at school that IMO puts 99% of kids of the whole idea of poetry. I am looking for stuff like Wallace Stevens - Anglais Mort a Florence exerpt He was that music & himself. They were particles of order, a single majesty: But he remembered a time when he stood alone. He stood at last by God's help and the police; But he remembered the time when he stood alone. He yielded himself to that single majesty; But he remembered the time when he stood alone. When to be and delight to be seemed to be one, Before the colors deepened and grew small. anyone else read poetry? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Time_Trap Posted April 9, 2009 Share Posted April 9, 2009 yes but mostly greek stuff , but for english you could check Charles Bukowski for example ... The Crunch too much too little too fat too thin or nobody. laughter or tears haters lovers strangers with faces like the backs of thumb tacks armies running through streets of blood waving winebottles bayoneting and fucking virgins. an old guy in a cheap room with a photograph of M. Monroe. there is a loneliness in this world so great that you can see it in the slow movement of the hands of a clock people so tired mutilated either by love or no love. people just are not good to each other one on one. the rich are not good to the rich the poor are not good to the poor. we are afraid. our educational system tells us that we can all be big-ass winners it hasn't told us about the gutters or the suicides. or the terror of one person aching in one place alone untouched unspoken to watering a plant. people are not good to each other. people are not good to each other. people are not good to each other. I suppose they never will be. I don't ask them to be. but sometimes I think about it. the beads will swing the clouds will cloud and the killer will behead the child like taking a bite out of an ice cream cone. too much too little too fat too thin or nobody more haters than lovers. people are not good to each other. perhaps if they were our deaths would not be so sad. meanwhile I look at young girls stems flowers of chance. there must be a way. surely there must be a way that we have not yet thought of. who put this brain inside of me? it cries it demands it says that there is a chance. it will not say "no." Charles Bukowski Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abasio Posted May 5, 2009 Author Share Posted May 5, 2009 My first stab Horizons Stepped out of infinity, plus one more beautiful step in finite self. The liquid shade of a pulse, too whole to mix with my limited self. Out of something comes, the void of nothingness inside its heart. A borrowed skin upon me, I am 30 times the speed of night. A nomad to the karmic light, I find the empty house at the end of my mind. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
buzzman Posted May 5, 2009 Share Posted May 5, 2009 My first stab Horizons Stepped out of infinity, plus one more beautiful step in finite self. The liquid shade of a pulse, too whole to mix with my limited self. Out of something comes, the void of nothingness inside its heart. A borrowed skin upon me, I am 30 times the speed of night. A nomad to the karmic light, I find the empty house at the end of my mind. Nice atmosphere, did you write it yourself? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abasio Posted May 11, 2009 Author Share Posted May 11, 2009 Nice atmosphere, did you write it yourself?Yes I did Cheers Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
needle ninja Posted May 13, 2009 Share Posted May 13, 2009 Oh kite Oh kite I sight in flight whirling twerling slight breezing alone slight there it goes out of sight I would not know the plight Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abasio Posted May 18, 2009 Author Share Posted May 18, 2009 I have never been much of a fan of poetry that rhymes too much Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Otto Matta Posted May 19, 2009 Share Posted May 19, 2009 I have never been much of a fan of poetry that rhymes too muchDiplomacy with all your might, right? Keep it light? No fight on a PLUR site? Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abasio Posted June 18, 2009 Author Share Posted June 18, 2009 Some crap.... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abasio Posted June 18, 2009 Author Share Posted June 18, 2009 deep mid A thin sliver of light a contrast against the darkness as I sat there I felt the cold hand of death that morning sat by the window as I looked on winter's frost a light snow began to fall on the plains and the treeless hills on monuments and grave stones on the living and the dead I sat as my essence dripped away and I departed the linear plane two feelings, one warm the other cold I thought it would be the other way Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abasio Posted June 18, 2009 Author Share Posted June 18, 2009 untitled chance chances missed on warm summer evening calls gone unanswered in the night sitting waiting on nothing still we are all alone chances never come again try and try as we might we can never change what has already passed at the end of times we are alone to change our fates we must wait inteminably wait for what may never come but hope eternal drives us on to try and not be so alone Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abasio Posted June 18, 2009 Author Share Posted June 18, 2009 The Green Room Green grass, green walls brown skies, brown borders sit a while and take it in surrounded by hope, melancholy try to see what is beyond hide what lies beneath pain comes to all men all men dream what can it be if not I angels won't worship as we lie in fields of green green grass, green walls melt under scrutiny there is nothing there but what we hide inside crawling up like a spider brown skies, brown borders swallow inside what we never were what we never are Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abasio Posted June 18, 2009 Author Share Posted June 18, 2009 After Dark The date is about to change no one sees 363 east failed to see before west will miss it later the air is musty smells of booze and spices shrill voices chatter away always a girl is crying friends comforting a kiss goodnight hand in hand go home or carry on here choices to make how long can we wake? what does tomorrow bring? the date has already changed Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
DaZeD Posted June 18, 2009 Share Posted June 18, 2009 What about Paradise Lost by John Milton, or Dante's La Divina Commedia? Does that apply?I don't know much 'bout poetry, and I don't know Wallace Stevens. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abasio Posted June 22, 2009 Author Share Posted June 22, 2009 What about Paradise Lost by John Milton, or Dante's La Divina Commedia? Does that apply?I don't know much 'bout poetry, and I don't know Wallace Stevens. I think those are Epic Poetry quite difficult to read if you are not in a fanciful mood Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abasio Posted June 22, 2009 Author Share Posted June 22, 2009 Eyes See Sounds Eyes see in the dark, everything we keep hidden. Confessions kept deep in the closet, beside the skeletons; behind closed eyelids. All is clear; no bright glare, distracts us from it. Under the skin we feel more, in our deepest inner thoughts, we project the furthest. Sit a while and wonder, for thought is the greatest teacher. It can be better to commune alone, than to join a voracious choir. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mephistopheles Posted September 10, 2009 Share Posted September 10, 2009 Baudelaire and Blake..... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Anakoluth Posted September 16, 2009 Share Posted September 16, 2009 German poetry ftw: Alfred Henschke: Es hat ein Gott Es hat ein Gott mich ausgekotzt, Nun lieg ich da, ein Haufen Dreck, Und komm und komme nicht vom Fleck. Doch hat er es noch gut gemeint, Er warf mich auf ein Wiesenland, Mit Blumen selig bunt bespannt. Ich bin ja noch so tatenjung. Ihr Blumen sagt, ach, liebt ihr mich? Gedeiht ihr nicht so reich durch mich? Ich bin der Dung! Ich bin der Dung! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abasio Posted September 17, 2009 Author Share Posted September 17, 2009 It even rhymes Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Drosophila Posted September 17, 2009 Share Posted September 17, 2009 Damn... Didn't know u were a poet Nice! I really like the first one: My first stab Horizons Stepped out of infinity, plus one more beautiful step in finite self. The liquid shade of a pulse, too whole to mix with my limited self. Out of something comes, the void of nothingness inside its heart. A borrowed skin upon me, I am 30 times the speed of night. A nomad to the karmic light, I find the empty house at the end of my mind. I'm not a big poetry fan, but I really like the poem by Rutger Hauer from Blade Runner: "I've seen things, you people wouldn't believe, hmmm. ... attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I've watched C Beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser Gate. All those moments, will be lost in time like tears in rain..." Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abasio Posted September 17, 2009 Author Share Posted September 17, 2009 Damn... Didn't know u were a poet Nice! I really like the first one: I'm not a big poetry fan, but I really like the poem by Rutger Hauer from Blade Runner: "I've seen things, you people wouldn't believe, hmmm. ... attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I've watched C Beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhauser Gate. All those moments, will be lost in time like tears in rain..." I used to put that in so many of my mixes! Will have to make a comeback for that Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Anakoluth Posted November 14, 2009 Share Posted November 14, 2009 You have a book I have a pen There is no ink in the inkstand. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abasio Posted November 28, 2009 Author Share Posted November 28, 2009 as he looks into the silence, he hears the life that has passed by unnoticed Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
eudaimonia Posted November 28, 2009 Share Posted November 28, 2009 I am not really a poetry expert but I have always liked jim morrisons "poetry" his song lyrics obviously , but also his "real" poetry: "Have you ever seen God?" -a mandala. A symmetrical angel. Felt? yes. Fucking The Sun. Heard? Music. Voices. Touched? an animal. your hand. Tasted? Rare meat, corn, water, & wine. the song "celebration of the lizzard king" consists of 7 poems the end of it I really like the way he ends the song/story/journey: for seven years, i dwelt in the loose palace of exile playing strange games with the girls of the island now, i have come again to the land of the fair, and the strong, and the wise brothers and sisters of the pale forest children of night who among you will run with the hunt? now night arives with her purple legion Retire now to your tents and to your dreams Tomorrow we enter the town of my birth I want to be ready' offcourse it so much better when Jim sings/says it. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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