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Laurel

Favorite poem

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Kallend inspired me to write this thread. Post your favorite poem.....here is one of mine:

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any-lifted from the no
of all nothing-human merely being
doubt unimaginably You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

-e. e. cummings
.....................................................................
PMS#28, Pelogrande Rodriguez#1074
My Pink M

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absolutly one of my favorites...


BECAUSE I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school where children played
At wrestling in a ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then ’t is centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses’ heads
Were toward eternity.

--Emily Dickinson
"Women fake orgasms - men fake whole relationships" – Sharon Stone
"The world is my dropzone" (wise crewdog quote)
"The light dims, until full darkness pierces into the world."-KDM

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Here is a couple of my own....


A CHILD’S SMILE

Have you ever noticed
While watching children play,
Mere smiles of their faces-
Can make life all okay.

To be the one to witness,
Or even bring their smiles-
Will warm your soul inside,
And walk with you for miles.

It never matters much on age,
Or where they are & in what stage.
A child’s life is set in time,
No sight of hate-No sight of crime.

I wish those smiles for us would last,
Just from memories of our past.
It’s sad that we must grow & learn,
And face some pain when its our turn.

Sometime when you are not so glad,
Think about young times you’ve had.
If your past don’t bring a smile,
Sit and watch a child a while.

Copywritten by Lany G.


And.....

LEARNING FROM FAULTS

Kindling’s of past regrets,
Memories of deception-
Don’t justify the heart in life,
Live gifts of all exception.

Hinder moments that dilute.
Each good time lost in pain-
Feel the touch of given love,
Within you- you contain.

Practice what you preach-they say,
And all is too much true-
Sometimes we give advice for one,
Of what we never do.

I’ve learned since turning over years,
That bad times helps us know-
And moments that were not so good,
Can help us thrive & grow.

So here I learn at thirty-three,
The lessons that I’ve learned-
Will help my vision of the true,
The quest, & what’s returned.

I’ve let go of the hopes that slay,
The negative desires-
To live by what is true & clear,
What concrete life requires.

Dream the dreams that you can reach,
And dreams that you can feel-
Don’t let a image of the false,
Hide what good life can reveal.

Copywritten by Lany G.
_______________________________________________
My mind is like a parachute...it functions only when open.

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It Couldn't Be Done
By Edgar Guest

Somebody said it couldn't be done,
But he with a chuckle replied
That "maybe it couldn't," but he would be one
Who wouldn't say so till he'd tried.
So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
On his face. If he worried he hid it.
He started to sing and he tackled the thing
That couldn't be done, and he did it.

Somebody scoffed: "Oh, you'll never do that;
At least no one has ever done it";
But he took off his coat and he took off his hat,
And the first thing we knew he'd begun it.
With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
Without any doubting or quiddit,
He started to sing and he tackled the thing
That couldn't be done, and he did it.

There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
There are thousands to prophesy failure;
There are thousands to point out to you, one by one,
The dangers that wait to assail you.
But just buckle in with a bit of a grin,
Just take off your coat and go to it;
Just start to sing as you tackle the thing
That "cannot be done," and you'll do it.
Life is short! Break the rules! Forgive quickly! Kiss slowly! Love truly, Laugh uncontrollably. And never regret anything that made you smile.

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Take a Break

Take a break for once, step back and re-approach reality after taking some time out for a change. the strain of being so loyally and faithfully absorbed could be ever so costly. The commitment to society's demand- your brain permanetly pressed on remaining responsable. Such a commendable and appreciated effort from your dedicated heart. those whom you provide for are well kept and cared for. Aside from your nightly slumber, it is best to take a break. Don't give anyone but yourself your attention. Breathe for a while where you find peace and tranquility. slip away and visit your greatest depths. for if you disregard a frequent "check in" with yourself, the cost could be the stranger to yourself. Further the distance, the greater the chance of being lost. Leaving anxiety in your mind. Take a break for balance is the answer that many fail to find.
I've learned.... That being kind is more important than being
right.

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I've posted this one before, but I will post it again because I love everything that Maya Angelou writes, especially this poem. It's for all my sky sisters, especially the ones that are feeling a little down right now.

PHENOMENAL WOMAN

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care.
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Maya Angelou

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What a nice idea!

My favorite poem varies with my mood. This morning, I think it's "Ode to a Grecian Urn," by John Keats.


Thou still unravished bride of quietness!
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flow'ry tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal -yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearied,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love!
For ever warm and still to be enjoyed,
For ever panting and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloyed,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea-shore,
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.

O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought
As doth eternity: Cold pastoral!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou sayst,
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty, -that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."

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I have always loved this one...

Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night
-Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage, against the dying of the ligh.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage, against the dying of the light.
Take me, I am the drug; take me, I am hallucinogenic.
-Salvador Dali

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Heres the ones I have memorized:
Quote


Natures first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.

An early leafs a flower,
But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf,
As Eden sank to grief.

As dawn goes down to day,
Nothing gold can stay.

Robert Frost.



My dad has had a copy of this since I was born...It has been hanging in my bedroom for 31 years now.
Quote


Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air. . . .

Up, up the long, delirious burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or ever eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untresspassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God

John Gillespie Magee, Jr




Quote


Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal.
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way.
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,--act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate.
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

Longfellow.



Thats about all I can remember now.
"No free man shall ever be debarred the use of arms." -- Thomas Jefferson, Thomas Jefferson Papers, 334

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Lany, I'm sure you already know this, but you've got real talent! Have you published?



Thank you Jarcie... I am still working on editing my book. I will have one out there soon. All my poems are based on my actual life, it will be a biography in poem format basically. ;)

Thanks again for your compliment :)
_______________________________________________
My mind is like a parachute...it functions only when open.

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And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untresspassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.



Ron, that sent shivers down my spine. I haven't heard or thought about that poem in years. Thank you!

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Ron, I also memorized "Nothing Gold Can Stay" by Robert Frost when I was in junior high school. Although it can come across a little melancholy to some, it will always be another one of my favorite poems of all time because it represents life's cyle and so much more. Thank you so much for posting it.

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Read any PABLO NERUDA!!!!!!!!!!!

If you like poetry, u will fall in love with Neruda, esp. if you speak spanish. He was a Chilean poet exiled by the govt. All of his poems are written in spanish and translated.

READ! ENJOY! TRUST ME!
Tunnel Pink Mafia Delegate
www.TunnelPinkMafia.com

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Dylan Thomas..yeah that's probably my favorite. But I like this one too - mostly because it is simple.

I never saw a wild thing
sorry for itself.
I small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.

D.H.Lawernce
-Self-pity

~
Fear is the thief of dreams...

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Ron, that sent shivers down my spine. I haven't heard or thought about that poem in years. Thank you!



Well it has been hanging in my bedroom since before I can remember. My print has a WWI Sopwith Camel on it. The date on the print is 1972, I was born in 1972 and as long as I can remember my Dad had it hanging in my bedroom. Ever since I have lived on my own, I have always had it hanging in my Bedroom.

Any wonder I fly and skydive?
"No free man shall ever be debarred the use of arms." -- Thomas Jefferson, Thomas Jefferson Papers, 334

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By E.E. Cummings...

If this doesnt turn ya on?
ha:$

she being Brand
-new;and you
know consequently a
little stiff i was
careful of her and(having

thoroughly oiled the universal
joint tested my gas felt of
her radiator made sure her springs were O.

K.)i went right to it flooded-the-carburetor cranked her

up,slipped the
clutch(and then somehow got into reverse she
kicked what
the hell)next
minute i was back in neutral tried and

again slo-wly;bare,ly nudg. ing(my

lev-er Right-
oh and her gears being in
A 1 shape passed
from low through
second-in-to-high like
greasedlightning)just as we turned the corner of Divinity

avenue i touched the accelerator and gave

her the juice,good

(it
was the first ride and believe i we was
happy to see how nice she acted right up to
the last minute coming back down by the Public
Gardens i slammed on
the

internalexpanding
&
externalcontracting
brakes Bothatonce and

brought allofher tremB
-ling
to a:dead.

stand-
;Still)

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Any wonder I fly and skydive?



No wonder at all! I've now printed it and am hanging it above my desk... :)
It's an amazing expression of the feeling one gets. Much more eloquent than the words that went through my mind right after my last exit (which don't bear repeating in print...), but it captures the beauty and awe.

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Thats an easy one:

"High Flight"

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew -
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

John Gillespie Magee, Jr.

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