Favourite Poems | INFJ Forum

Favourite Poems

Discussion in 'Art, Entertainment, and Media' started by ohmermaid, Oct 8, 2008.

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  1. ohmermaid

    ohmermaid Community Member

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    post them :mclap:



    mine is:
    the storm: part 1 - n.s. willey

    Inside here, it’s not so good, it’s a swirl.
    And in the head, what was it like for you
    With so much nuance, pleasure, perception
    And no slack of sentimental leeway?
    But the swirl will maintain us. Foxy Brown
    Is saying ‘bèbè’ there, and my brother
    Is falling to his death through lonely air
    And the children enter and leave the house
    And the pages float out from the blue shed
    And the swirl will get us through, but to what?
    I stood at the bar and gradually
    Felt the back of my head growing lonely.
    I left the bar later uncertainly
    Looking out inquisitively falsely
    Toward the street.


    But I am here now in the longing
    Of the memory of everything,
    Regretful but undamaged. The light
    Goes away along the old canal
    In the oily old evening, the rain
    Beginning later, invisibly
    To start with, restoring
    It all to a sort of tattered
    Equanimity, a sense of sound
    Of something’s everlasting
    Unpretentiousness, the rain-sound
    Of the park, the strange heraldic
    Fountains fading, the benches
    Expectant, the floating grey displacement
    Of the tennis-courts at dusk.



    And this is it. In the evening light
    You can come toward me. I am
    O.K. now. Do you remember?
    We took our personal pronouns
    For a walk in the rain.
    And it all went so quickly.
    I think of long ago,



    Childhood, mittens clogged with snow,
    The fast red sledge through the dark wood.
    I would go back if I could
    If it would bring me to these mornings
    Where I come across my certainties
    Like bright outriders only met
    In doomed uprisings of the will
    Left scattered on the slopes of sleep.



    Out in the park slow shapes of trees
    Infer themselves. The morning moves
    Across the room. An open book
    Is edged awake. The rainy light
    Of early evening not-yet-rain
    Comes round. Old age, the days float down
    Through words toward the substances
    Of indeterminate renown
    At the sign of the Dog and the Beetle.
    Here where the path is turning back
    Through mist, improbability
    And undeciphered incident,
    I turn toward you, crying
    In a squall of frozen gorse-bushes
    And ask you to go on loving me.



    And how will it not matter? Tell me the ways
    In which it will not matter, the way of the wind
    Among the great herd of absences, the way
    Of the curtain drifting. Oh, it will matter.
    The grim granite squirting dribbling
    Fountain is dry. ‘Those were the days’,
    Says the gurgle in the standpipe.
    Old insects in their uniforms
    Patrol the perimeter.
    Shadows flicker, flutter
    On the ceiling of an alcove
    Like the powdery equipage
    Of memory’s discontinuance.
    I look for you always in these
    Edgy summer evenings.







    others are:
    you know and i know and thee know - charles bukowski
    tonight i can write the saddest lines - pablo neruda
    i carry your heart with me - ee cummings
    open - martha collins

    your turn!
     
    #1 ohmermaid, Oct 8, 2008
    Last edited: Oct 8, 2008
  2. Lurker

    Lurker Has nothing to destroy
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    This was written for me in my leavers book when I graduated high school, it's the only poem I remember cause it just works for me.

    Listen to the musn't child
    Listen to the dont's
    Listen to the shouldn'ts
    The impossibles, the wont's
    Listen to the never haves
    Then listen close to me
    Anything can happen child
    Anything can be.
     
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  3. palettesirens

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    The Tobacconist's

    I am nothing.
    I shall always be nothing.
    I can only want to be nothing.
    Apart from this, I have in me all the dreams in the world.

    -Fernando Pessoa.

    Short and sweet!

     
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  4. Shai Gar

    Shai Gar Guest

    Softly sweet and wet, licking tenderly the icecream.
    Contours to be met, tastes of cherries are fleeing.
    Two hard scoops melting under my tongues hard caress.
    The body beneath heaves where my icecream pleases
    A melting sundae of pleasure, strokes without measure
    New tastes exploding, senses eroding;
    When the icecream is finally eaten


    Delving deeper deeper down
    Into a wine that is as red as red
    The deepest that I've yet found
    Into the merlot i am slowly led
    Searching for the supple sound
    Of a drink with a soft tread

    Deluded into thinking that
    I'm becoming one with wine
    Transforming a soul into a vat
    To merely hold a body is a crime
    When faced with Dionysus' trap
    I relinquish self for grapes vine

    Delving deeper deeper down
    For to taste as such as thee again
    I would sell the souls of clowns
    Let them laugh in the sacred pen'
    And I'll drink your drinks and cry
    "I'm drinking on the demigods round"

    Praise be to pan, to Bacchus
    Praise be to the gods of pleasure
    Let others live as a moral ass
    Let them live with righteous measure
    All that nonsense is simply crass
    When compared to wine and leisure



    - Written by some hedonist in Brisbane.
     
  5. enfp can be shy

    enfp can be shy people vs the bad people?
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    just found it in the sig of some deviantart member. among the best things i've ever seen
     
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  6. Entyqua

    Entyqua Forgotten
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    messed up
    The jabberwocky - Lewis Carroll

    (from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)
    `Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
     
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  7. youhemmein

    youhemmein awkward turtle
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    Enty I love this. I had to recite it in theater, and still have it memorized to this day. *thumbs-up*
     
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  8. Entyqua

    Entyqua Forgotten
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    I did too! We used to to a childrens theatre production every year for halloween and we always did the Jabberwocky...we enacted it, we portrayed it...It was so fun making the set...the tum tum tree, the tulgy wood...we all got to paint a peice of the set...some of my fondest memories!
     
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  9. Vegscara

    Vegscara Regular Poster

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    Invictus

    by William Ernest Henley; 1849-1903


    Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
    I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul.

    In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud.
    Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed.

    Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the horror of the shade,
    And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

    It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll,
    I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.
     
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