#51
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Re: Favourite lines of poetry/verse?
... I looked a Coyote right in the face
On the road to Baljennie near my old home town He went running thru the whisker wheat Chasing some prize down And a hawk was playing with him Coyote was jumping straight up and making passes He had those same eyes - just like yours Under your dark glasses Privately probing the public rooms And peeking thru keyholes in numbered doors Where the players lick their wounds And take their temporary lovers And their pills and powders to get them thru this passion play No regrets, Coyote I just get off up aways You just picked up a hitcher A prisoner of the white lines on the freeway Coyote's in the coffee shop He's staring a hole in his scrambled eggs He picks up my scent on his fingers While he's watching the waitresses' legs He's too far from the Bay of Fundy From Appaloosas and Eagles and tides And the air conditioned cubicles And the carbon ribbon rides Are spelling it out so clear Either he's going to have to stand and fight Or take off out of here I tried to run away myself To run away and wrestle with my ego And with this flame You put here in this Eskimo In this hitcher In this prisoner Of the fine white lines Of the white lines on the free, free way Coyote--Joni Mitchell |
#52
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Re: Favourite lines of poetry/verse?
One of my favorite poems is from Paul Verlaine. This poem was the one broacasted over the radio in occupied France to warn the Resistance that the D-day attack had started.
The long sobs of the violins Of autumn Wound my heart With a monotonous Languor. - Song of Autumn - Poèmes saturniens This one is also one of my favorite. I was abe to find a good translation for it so I am posting it. It is from Paul Verlaine as well: Tears fall in my heart As rain upon the city; What is this languor That pierces my heart? Oh, the gentle sound of the rain By land and on the roofs! For a heart that is empty Oh, the song of the rain! Tears fall without reason In this heart that is disheartened. What? No betrayal? . . . This grief is without reason. It is indeed the worst pain Not to know why Without love and without hatred My heart suffers so much pain! - Ariettes oubliées |
#53
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Re: Favourite lines of poetry/verse?
[ QUOTE ]
Tears fall in my heart As rain upon the city; What is this languor That pierces my heart? Oh, the gentle sound of the rain By land and on the roofs! For a heart that is empty Oh, the song of the rain! Tears fall without reason In this heart that is disheartened. What? No betrayal? . . . This grief is without reason. It is indeed the worst pain Not to know why Without love and without hatred My heart suffers so much pain! [/ QUOTE ] This made me very sad. One of my favorites: The beauty of a rose in bloom art naught when compared with thou. For a rose hath not thy soul. |
#54
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Re: Favourite lines of poetry/verse?
[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ] Tears fall in my heart As rain upon the city; What is this languor That pierces my heart? Oh, the gentle sound of the rain By land and on the roofs! For a heart that is empty Oh, the song of the rain! Tears fall without reason In this heart that is disheartened. What? No betrayal? . . . This grief is without reason. It is indeed the worst pain Not to know why Without love and without hatred My heart suffers so much pain! [/ QUOTE ] This made me very sad. [/ QUOTE ] It is a very well written poem that describes very well a chapter of my life. |
#55
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Re: Favourite lines of poetry/verse?
[ QUOTE ]
and, as a prose companion to this, from James Joyce's "The Dead:" Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age. [/ QUOTE ] Ok, and that can lead us to TS Eliot: ...Those who have crossed With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost Violent souls, but only As the hollow men The stuffed men. What the hell. Here's the entire glorious thing (easily my favorite poem): The Hollow Men I We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass Or rats' feet over broken glass In our dry cellar Shape without form, shade without colour, Paralysed force, gesture without motion; Those who have crossed With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost Violent souls, but only As the hollow men The stuffed men. II Eyes I dare not meet in dreams In death's dream kingdom These do not appear: There, the eyes are Sunlight on a broken column There, is a tree swinging And voices are In the wind's singing More distant and more solemn Than a fading star. Let me be no nearer In death's dream kingdom Let me also wear Such deliberate disguises Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves In a field Behaving as the wind behaves No nearer -- Not that final meeting In the twilight kingdom III This is the dead land This is cactus land Here the stone images Are raised, here they receive The supplication of a dead man's hand Under the twinkle of a fading star. Is it like this In death's other kingdom Waking alone At the hour when we are Trembling with tenderness Lips that would kiss Form prayers to broken stone. IV The eyes are not here There are no eyes here In this valley of dying stars In this hollow valley This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms In this last of meeting places We grope together And avoid speech Gathered on this beach of the tumid river Sightless, unless The eyes reappear As the perpetual star Multifoliate rose Of death's twilight kingdom The hope only Of empty men. V Here we go round the prickly pear Prickly pear prickly pear Here we go round the prickly pear At five o'clock in the morning. Between the idea And the reality Between the motion And the act Falls the Shadow For Thine is the Kingdom Between the conception And the creation Between the emotion And the response Falls the Shadow Life is very long Between the desire And the spasm Between the potency And the existence Between the essence And the descent Falls the Shadow For Thine is the Kingdom For Thine is Life is For Thine is the This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper. |
#56
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Re: Favourite lines of poetry/verse?
Fantastic poem, but I'm sticking to Prufrock as my favorite T.S. Eliot, which means very high among all my favorites. That one has line after stunning line, and a great overall direction. Though I really like The Hollow Men an awful lot, and some phrases really leap out at you in their brilliance. That's one of the things I like about Eliot; he can write lines that absolutely blow you away when you read them and make you wonder if you've ever read anything that good before.
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#57
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Re: Favourite lines of poetry/verse?
Here's a couple lines, not so much my favourites, but...unreal..
first, Arnolds, "Dover Beach" The sea of faith Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd. But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear And naked shingles of the world. Donne's "A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning" is one of the most impressive poem's i've ever read but, without a question, my favourite poet (and artists) is Bob Dylan: From "Vision's of Johanna" In the empty lot where the ladies play blindman's bluff with the key chain And the all-night girls they whisper of escapades out on the "D" train We can hear the night watchman click his flashlight Ask himself if it's him or them that's really insane Louise, she's all right, she's just near She's delicate and seems like the mirror But she just makes it all too concise and too clear That Johanna's not here The ghost of 'lectricity howls in the bones of her face Where these visions of Johanna have now taken my place From "The Time's they are a-changin" Come writers and critics Who prophesize with your pen And keep your eyes wide The chance won't come again And don't speak too soon For the wheel's still in spin And there's no tellin' who That it's namin'. For the loser now Will be later to win For the times they are a-changin'. and there's hundred's more.. |
#58
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Re: Favourite lines of poetry/verse?
The more I think about it, the more I think Rushmore and I are the same person, a few years apart. Except one of us is a bit more wealthy.
The Hollow Men was my favorite poem in college... might still be. I did a musical setting of it in my senior thesis that was probably the best piece of music I wrote. Wish I could hear that played again. Anyway, it's a criminal shame that we've made it so far in this thread without some Bukowski. Here's a later work: a poem for swingers I like women who haven't lived with too many men. I don't expect virginity but I simply prefer women who haven't been rubbed raw by experience. there is a quality about women who choose men sparingly; it appears in their walk in their eyes in their laughter and in their gentle hearts. women who have had too many men seem to choose the next one out of revenge rather than with feeling. when you play the field selfishly everything works against you; one can't insist on love or demand affection. you're finally left with whatever you have been willing to give which often is: nothing. some women are delicate things some women are delicious and wondrous. if you want to piss on the sun go ahead but please leave the good women alone. hymn from the hurricane paid my dues in Macon, went crazy in Tennessee, found the love of God in St. Louis, got the hell out of there. found the whore with the heart of gold in Glendale, ran away from that. floundered awhile along the Mason-Dixon Line, came to my senses in New Orleans. mailed a letter home, and got knocked on my ass in Houston. started sitting at the center of the bar instead of at the end. got rolled 3 times in a row somewhere near the Appalachians. married a woman with a crippled neck who died unclaimed in India. name of the first horse I ever bet on was Royal Serenade who died long ago . what glistens best for me is the first drink of the night. I will hear forever the wheels of the Greyhound bus carrying me to nowhere. J. Cash sang "I killed a man in Reno just to watch him die" as the cons cheered. celled with public enemy no. one in Moyamensing Prison (he snored at night). my women tell me that I am insane because of my parents. sometimes I feel like a motherless child. my favorite color is yellow and my backbone is the same. nine-tenths of Humanity embraces self-pity and the other tenth makes them look pitiful. the rat and the roach are the most powerful reminders of enduring life. what was always best for me was seing fear in the eyes of the bully. the saddest thing was old women watering geraniums at 2 p.m. and what I learned was to do it now inspite of the consequenses. and what I also learned was that something once said could quickly become untrue. I paid my dues in Macon, went crazy in Tennessee, found myself in the second floor of a hotel in Albuquerque (the bed bugs ate well). found myself on a track gang going west and didn't yearn for a seat in Congress. I remember the girl who showed me her panties when I was 8 years old. I remember the red streetcars, and the vacant lots between the houses in Los Angeles. I remember that the girl who showed her panties to half the town had showed me first. I was always a coward who didn't care. I was always a brave man who didn't try to win. I found that screwing women was a social duty like making money. I paid my dues in Tennessee and went crazy in Macon. I had no idea of the black-white game and sit on the back of a streetcar in New Orleans. I hate politics and I hate the obvious answers. I paid my dues in East Kansas City. I beat the hell out of a 6-foot-4 240-pound guy in Philly I stayed on the floor on Miami after a 150-pounder decked me with his first punch. the state of the mind is the State of the Union. what you want to do and what you've got to do is the same thing. I once watched a sailor fight an alligator and the alligator quit. only boring people are bored. only the wrong flags fly. the person who tells you they are not God really thinks otherwise. God is the invention of failures. the only hell is where you are. passed through Dallas and rammed through Pasadena. I never paid my dues because there was nobody to collect them. I've smashed two full-length mirrors and they are still looking for me. I've walked into places where no man should ever go. I've been mercilessly beaten and left for dead. I have lumps all over my scull from blackjacks and etc. the angels pissed themselves in fear. I am a beautiful person. and you are. and she is. as is the yellow thumping of the sun and the glory of the world. --- NT |
#59
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Re: Favourite lines of poetry/verse?
Ginsburg, from 'America':
"I'm trying to come to the point. I refuse to give up my obsession. America stop pushing I know what I'm doing. America the plum blossoms are falling." Whitman (writing about his poetry): "As idly drifting down the ebb such ripples, half caught voices, echo from the shore" Hunter Thompson (it's from 'the great shark hunt'- can't quite remember the rest of the verse, but...): "bend her in two like a saftey pin" |
#60
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Re: Favourite lines of poetry/verse?
"For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons" |
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