Favorite Poet
- Phil_J
- ashtray1111
- Phil_J
- ashtray1111
- Phil_J
- ashtray1111
- Phil_J
- Phil_J
- Phil_J
- Pinky102
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» ashtray1111 - Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Some Poetry
In response to message posted by Phil_J:lol... i have a feeling that you are mocking me.. get back to me on that
-- posted by ashtray1111
» ashtray1111 - Re: Mocking you?
In response to message posted by Phil_J:ok than! Do you have any poetry?
-- posted by ashtray1111
» ashtray1111 - sylvia plath
I have a new found respect for Sylvia Plath. Darlene, I know you are quite fond of her. I read a poem by her called "Daddy" and I got so upset, because what she said about her father, reminded me of mine.Daddy
You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.
Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time---
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal
And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off the beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.
In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My Polack friend
Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.
It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene
An engine, an engine,
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.
The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.
I have always been sacred of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You----
Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.
You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who
Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.
But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look
And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.
If I've killed one man, I've killed two---
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.
There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.
Geez! I love it. There is another called "daddy" by a man. He also has another poem called "father's day". I can't remember his name and everytime I read his poem called "daddy" it's the same thing. So I tried to write a poem about how my father has hurt me... but it's like the feelings are TOO strong. They make me speechless and they are impossible to put into words. It is making me mad. Because I want to lol.
-- posted by ashtray1111
» Phil_J - Thru Language Barriers
.I once was in a group where one of the other men only spoke Farsi.
He wanted to smoke a cigarette, so he motioned for me to go outside with him.
When we got outside, he began to speak to me in perect English:
Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you:
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing through
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I:
But when the trees bow down their heads,
The wind is passing by.
------------------------------
Who Has Seen the Wind?
Poem by Christina Rosetti
------------------------------
He was my daughter's father-in-law. While we never were able to learn enough of each other's language, that poem brought us much closer together.
-- posted by Phil_J
» Phil_J - Another One
.Another of my favorites was Persian>
"For in the Market-place, one Dusk of Day,
I watch'd the Potter thumping his wet Clay:
And with its all obliterated Tongue
It murmur'd -- 'Gently, Brother, gently,
pray!'"
-- Omar Khayyam Rubäiyät
------------------
And, thanks for sharing "Daddy" with us.
-- posted by Phil_J
» Phil_J - A Street Bum
.My son, who lives in New York, sent me information about this man:
Robert Couri was born on July 3, 1947 and grew up in New Jersey. He was
a staff sergeant in Vietnam, where his work was involved with explosives
etc. The things he did and saw in Vietnam, ... Bobby never
wanted to talk about.
This poem was read at the memorial service that was held by the people who saw him almost every day:
When Death Comes
Mary Oliver
From New and Selected Poems by Mary Oliver (Beacon Press, 25 Beacon St, Boston, MA 02108-2892, ISBN 0 870 6819 5).
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measles-pox;
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth
tending as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it is over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.
I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.
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-- posted by Phil_J
» Pinky102 - Hi, Ashley!
.I was thinking of your site this morning and wanted to post this as one of my favorite poems. I memorized it when I was about 13 years old:
Annabel Lee
By Edgar Allen Poe (September 1849 six months after his wife had died. He died October 3, 1849, shortly after this poem was penned.)
It was many and many a year ago,
In a Kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love--
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me--
Yes!--that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we--
Of many far wiser than we--
And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling--my darling--my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
AKA Phil_J
-- posted by Pinky102
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