FAVOURITE POEMMSSSS???

[Life 0]

Seeing as afew people have taken an interest with poetry such as myself. Post your favourite poems here or ones you've made yourself. I guess ill start it off with one i found. (DO NOT READ IT IF YOUR SQUEAMISH) 

 

Oh blade you'll warm tonight! 
Awash in crimson-purple flows, 
Your sheen will dull with aching flesh: 
Palpating anatomic mounds
Caressing, dancing, writhing round
Your metal form- 
Whetted ‘gainst a lonely bone, 
Then to probe the pounding, begging heart. 

And all the while the prey will howl
Before they crumple; greet the mud-
A taut and unbelieving jowl
Will open out for giving blood-
A vent from down below, 
Once a brutal show
Of metal in the man.

[Tristan Delaney 0]

Climbing the Mountain by Yuan Mei

I burned incense, swept the earth, and waited

for a poem to come...

Then I laughed, and climbed the mountain,

leaning on my staff.

How I'd love to be a master

of the blue sky's art:

see how many sprigs of snow-white cloud

he's brushed in so far today.

Still Falls the Rain by Edith Sitwell

[Guest]

I am known

in the religion of rage.

Worship me as a pool

of blood in your hands.

Drink me deep.

It’s bitter fury

that boils and burns.

Your knives were small

but they were many.

I am named

in the religion of rage.

Worship me with your

offhand cuts

long after I am dead.

It’s a song of dreams

crumbled to ashes.

Your wants overflowed

but now gape empty.

I am drowned

in the religion of rage.

Worship me unto

death and down

to a pile of bones.

The purest book

is the one never opened.

No needs left unfulfilled

on the cold, sacred day. 

I am found

in the religion of rage.

Worship me in a

stream of curses.

This fool had faith

and in dreams he wept.

But we walk a desert

rocked by accusations,

where no man starves

with hate in his bones.

―Poet’s Night i.iv

The Malazan Book of the Fallen

Fisher kel Tath

[Tyrius 0]

And there goes my cognitive capabilities.

[Moartea 0]

Okay, now its time to pull out a Poem from the past that I find to be my favorite.

 

>>>

 

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

“’Tis some visitor,†I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—

            Only this and nothing more.â€

 

    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

    Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow

    From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

            Nameless here for evermore.

 

    And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

    “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

            This it is and nothing more.â€

 

    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

“Sir,†said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard youâ€â€”here I opened wide the door;—

            Darkness there and nothing more.

 

    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?â€

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!â€â€”

            Merely this and nothing more.

 

    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

    “Surely,†said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;

      Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

            â€™Tis the wind and nothing more!â€

 

    Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;

    Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

    But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—

            Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

 

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,†I said, “art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!â€

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.â€

 

    Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;

    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

    Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

            With such name as “Nevermore.â€

 

    But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

    Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—

    Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.â€

            Then the bird said “Nevermore.â€

 

    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

“Doubtless,†said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store

    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore

            Of ‘Never—nevermore’.â€

 

    But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;

    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

            Meant in croaking “Nevermore.â€

 

    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;

    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

    On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,

            She shall press, ah, nevermore!

 

    Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

    “Wretch,†I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee

    Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!â€

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.â€

 

    “Prophet!†said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—

    On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—

Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!â€

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.â€

 

    “Prophet!†said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—

    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.â€

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.â€

 

    “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!†I shrieked, upstarting—

“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!

    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

    Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!â€

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.â€

 

    And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,

    And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

            Shall be lifted—nevermore!

 

>>>

 

*Bows and walks away.*

[Guest]

Now, for my favorite.

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

 Someone had blunder'd:

Theirs not to make reply,

Theirs not to reason why,

Theirs but to do and 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 and 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 and Russian

Reel'd from the sabre stroke

 Shatter'd and 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 and 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 wondered.

Honor the charge they made,

Honor the Light Brigade,

 Noble six hundred.

[Tristan Delaney 0]

snip

Have some music based on that poem from a great band :)

[Guest]

Tell me more.

Edit: I am SUPER OK with this.

[Tristan Delaney 0]

Tell me more.

Oh its just a band I've been listening to since my childhood. It's just that this song always pops up in my head with that poem, using the poem as a basis for that song.

[Life 0]

A Time In Limbo

An uncertainly,a harbinger of unrest

Looms ever so close ,can we pass the test?

To wait patiently for a storm,or swim the tides

As resilience grows stronger,and love abides

Do we plant copious tears,or dig a well?

Letting pent up emotions create a living hell

Will the past form a wall, against life's own surprise?

Of renewed faith and hope and clearer skies

A season in limbo,a time for reflection

Moves us ever forward in the soul's direction.

[Life 0]

 

 

I want you to know

one thing. 

You know how this is: 
if I look 
at the crystal moon, at the red branch 
of the slow autumn at my window, 
if I touch 
near the fire 
the impalpable ash 
or the wrinkled body of the log, 
everything carries me to you, 
as if everything that exists, 
aromas, light, metals, 
were little boats 
that sail 
toward those isles of yours that wait for me. 

Well, now, 
if little by little you stop loving me 
I shall stop loving you little by little. 

If suddenly 
you forget me 
do not look for me, 
for I shall already have forgotten you. 

If you think it long and mad, 
the wind of banners 
that passes through my life, 
and you decide 
to leave me at the shore 
of the heart where I have roots, 
remember 
that on that day, 
at that hour, 
I shall lift my arms 
and my roots will set off 
to seek another land. 

But 
if each day, 
each hour, 
you feel that you are destined for me 
with implacable sweetness, 
if each day a flower 
climbs up to your lips to seek me, 
ah my love, ah my own, 
in me all that fire is repeated, 
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten, 
my love feeds on your love, beloved, 
and as long as you live it will be in your arms 
without leaving mine. 

 

[Moartea 0]

Okay time for me to put my 12 years of literature classes to work.

 

Sonnet #1

 

The words are clear, they tell me to fall into the darkness

Forever whispering my name, calling me towards the shades

Now I see the truth, all is decaying, rotting inside, and dead

The fear of us all is living, nothing is real, it all is a illusion and fake

 

I hear them, dead fingers, they crawl at the eyes of the world,

Dead fingers, blinding the world, making it pure

They whisper sweet words of death, and bring the truth of life to us

All clawing the fake and the rot away, exposing the truth behind the truth

 

We all are dead inside, all decaying, your hearts filled with the ink of darkness

The aroma of despair fills the wound, and festers it into a incurable illness

The curse of the human heart, filled with fear and false promises

As the dead fingers all claw at one thousand eyes, making the sight blind

 

And the blind insightful again, as he we see the truth, the truth of things

We all now know the pain of the world, we are all gone, faded away from the light of the world

Now falling into the shadows of the afterlife, forever falling into darkness

As the dead fingers now hold my body in a cold embrace.

[Life 0]

That was something Moartea... let me have a go..

 

Show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time
Turning everyone against each other, it's an art that's hard to teach

You slip yet another clever word, setting off unsuspecting crowds

Now run, woman, run away, you never had a chance, and now you steal away

In the depths of my heart, nice work you did, You're gonna go far..

With a thousand lies, and a good disguise, when you walked away, there was nothing more to say.

 

Maybe you should consider this.. life is bigger than you are and you are not me

The lengths that i would go to; the distance in your eyes

I try to keep up but i can't do it, so i lose myself, i lose my faith

I lose the thing most important to me, i lose you.

I thought i head you in joy, in wonder, trying so hard...

Every second and every word, im choosing carefully what to say

I keep a closer eye on you like a hurt lost and blinded fool

I though that it was just a dream, your words were so assuring

But now i sit alone in the dark unsure of who or what to trust....

 

Please saver it, don't speak.. i know just what your saying 

Don't tell me you're hurting, i don't need your pathetic reasons

Memories can be so inviting when they're pleasuring 

But now i sit alone in the dark, unsure of who or what to trust...

I know just what you're thinking, spare me the pain and leave me quietly

Like a feather blowing in the wind, sing me a soft goodbye and leave me quietly

Your beauty poisoned me, your words slaughtered me

And now i sit alone in the dark, unsure of who or what to trust.

[Moartea 0]

Nice Life, but now I think I'll go and make this a contest for who can make the better poems. Sorry but its soo hard to find people with this kind of talent. 

 

Sonnet #2

 

Moonlight drips from my hands

Like the blood from my veins

As the petals of beauty flutter from my hair

And scatter in the winds of fate

 

The rain of life seeps from my eyes

Like the river flowing into the sea

My heartbeat strong and proud

As like the lion of the plains

 

And ever so warm like the Sahara sun blazing

My eyes bright and full of life

As the stars in the sky

I am who I am

 

The man that god made and the one that will never change

I am me, and nothing can change that

I am strong, warm, happy and sad

I am all emotions, for I am human. 

[Life 0]

Fine with me :) 

 

The artificial city lights covered the night sky

Much like a haze and much like the minds..

Of the millions that lived there, they too.

Have hazed and clouded minds not like me or you.

 

I watch as the 'common' greedily grasp for what they can

Life is survival of the fittest and so i let out a soft sigh where i stand 

Life is melancholy to the awake and bliss to the sleeping

At least i can smile knowing they are in bliss reaping 

At least i can smile knowing they are sleeping 

Sleeping and reaping the life from the Earth

 

Sleeping but not awake, living but not alive.

Could i be happy for their ignorant bliss?

Could i be happy for the pain of the awake?

That is the burden we face, being awake and being aware

Not being able to do a single thing, oh what will life bring?

Being awake and being aware while the rest of the world lives without a care.

[Moartea 0]

*A Tribute to the Fallen*

 

Life twinkles in the hearts of all people

Ever so bright and warm 

Like a mothers love

Never fading, or dying

 

Always with us, in spirit and in memory

The bonds we share, the hopes we weave

The ties we have with another is everlasting

Nothing can break that bond

 

Death can't sever it

Nor can the afterlife smith it

We will always be remembered, out ties

Our hopes, all are eternal

 

Even in new life, a new beginning

We will always remember in our hearts

The sacrifices other made

To make sure we are here

 

Alive and free, as well as happy

Never let us forget

That we are here because of others

The ones that came before us

 

The ones that guide us

Our comrades

Our brother, sisters 

And our friends

 

For with out them

Nothing would be here

As they are our gateway 

Into the future

[Life 0]

Sorry if i take a while with these, i don't think as fast as i'd like to

 

*Sting of the loyal*

 

If you could return, don't let it burn, don't let it fade

The moonlight dances across the calming waters

You got me wrapped around your finger now, do you have to let it linger?

Seize the moment, don't be afraid to take charge. 

 

Im not being rude, sorry if that's your attitude...

It's torn me trough, it's ruined everything i do

Im sorry for being a fool for you, i guess that's just my attitude

We swore, you and me both that we would be true

So tell me so if you believe you followed through?

 

Did you have to spit it in my face

Treating me like Im some filth or disgrace

I thought the world of you, an impenetrable fortress where nothing could go wrong

I was so wrong and so now you let it linger

The sting of defeat, the pain chilling me from my feet

I thought you knew i just wanted to be with you

 

Leave me with a sting of hope

Leave me with a sting of fire

Leave me, leave me, that's all you do

But you know i'll just be here once again 

Yet again, waiting for you.

[Moartea 0]

*Rose in a Storm*

 

Doth the colour red consume the eyes

Be it a wonder, or a curse

For great beauty doth bring great pain

Tis true, all rose have thine thorns

 

But all beauty hath its end

A storm of chaos

Be'eth the human heart

Can destroy a rose so pure 

 

Her love ever given to him

As his love not return'eth 

Tis a tragedy, she gives as he takes

Never once calming the storm she is caught in

 

Time can be cruel, as her love slowly fades

Love turns to  hate

Hate becomes jealousy

Jealousy becomes revenge

 

As his storm destroys her

Turning her into a whittled flower

Her thorns lash out

Inflicting pain upon the other

 

Only to have her life taken away by the storm

The rose, the thorns they all fade away

As so does her life

When that bottle strikes the ground 

[Life 0]

*Solitary Warrior*

 

The weary spirit cannot withstand fate

nor does a rough or sorrowful mind do any good 

Thus those eager for glory often keep secure dreary thoughts in their hearts

 

So I, often wretched and sorrowful, bereft of my homeland, far from noble kinsmen

Have had to bind in fetters my inmost thoughts..

Since long years ago I hid my lord in the darkness of the earth, and I, wretched, from there travelled most sorrowfully over the frozen waves

Sought, sad at the lack of a hall, a giver of treasure, where I, far or near, might find one in the mead hall who knew my people, or wished to console the friendless one, me, entertain with delights.

 

He who has tried it knows how cruel is sorrow

As a companion to the one who has few beloved friends

The path of exile holds him,

Not at all twisted gold, a frozen spirit, not the bounty of the earth.

 

He remembers hall-warriors and the giving of treasure

How in youth his lord accustomed him to the feasting.

All the joy has died! And so he knows it, he who must

forgo for a long time the counsels of his beloved lord

 

Then sorrow and sleep both together

often tie up the wretched solitary one.

[Moartea 0]

Going to bed now see ya

 

*The Insanity or Sanity*

 

Knocking, scratching, and gnawing at the steel door

Hoping to break through, wishing the leave this place

His mind ever so fragile, his room, a place of solitude

This room, this four cornered room, with one bed

 

Watched and studied like a lab rat

They say his mind is gone, over thresh hold

His body just an empty shell now

As his soul crushed by the injustice of the people around him

 

Insanity they say, something he has

He's the sane one, their all insane

As he claws further into the door

Expecting it to budge, thinking it will open

 

His mind wanders, splits, and shatters

As he is caught in a web of lies 

And confusion, his mind now broken, as all he can do it run

His nails split, his fingers ground to the bone

 

The blood turned black 

For now he gnaws at the door,

Never ending his cycle of escape

Insanity has taken hold, denial takes hold

 

He isn't insane, they are, as he lays there in his bed

Strapped, and helpless as he struggles to free himself

His mind fades as so does his life

He gnaws at the doors of his mind, never to set free the monster.