Poetry for killing time

[poppy1963]

Hey Mr. Poetry Man!

You need to clear out some of your pm's. Here's what I tried to send:

atmas,

May I add a link to this thread in my sig? It's ok if you don't want me too...I just think it's very cool. The link would say:

Go Here to Write a Poem to Kill Time by atmas

I think you should put a link in your sig, too.

 

[Angeline]

XXXIV (You are the daughter of the sea)
Pablo Neruda

You are the daughter of the sea, oregano's first cousin.
Swimmer, your body is pure as the water;
cook, your blood is quick as the soil.
Everything you do is full of flowers, rich with the earth.

Your eyes go out toward the water, and the waves rise;
your hands go out to the earth and the seeds swell;
you know the deep essence of water and the earth,
conjoined in you like a formula for clay.

Naiad: cut your body into turquoise pieces,
they will bloom resurrected in the kitchen.
This is how you become everything that lives.

And so at last, you sleep, in the circle of my arms
that push back the shadows so that you can rest--
vegetables, seaweed, herbs: the foam of your dreams.

 

[poppy1963]

XXXIV (You are the daughter of the sea)
Pablo Neruda

You are the daughter of the sea, oregano's first cousin.
Swimmer, your body is pure as the water;
cook, your blood is quick as the soil.
Everything you do is full of flowers, rich with the earth.

Your eyes go out toward the water, and the waves rise;
your hands go out to the earth and the seeds swell;
you know the deep essence of water and the earth,
conjoined in you like a formula for clay.

Naiad: cut your body into turquoise pieces,
they will bloom resurrected in the kitchen.
This is how you become everything that lives.

And so at last, you sleep, in the circle of my arms
that push back the shadows so that you can rest--
vegetables, seaweed, herbs: the foam of your dreams.

Wonderful, Angeline! And it's no doubt with your experience here. Glad you posted. I want this thread to revive!

 

[veryblueeyes]

XXXIV (You are the daughter of the sea)
Pablo Neruda

You are the daughter of the sea, oregano's first cousin.
Swimmer, your body is pure as the water;
cook, your blood is quick as the soil.
Everything you do is full of flowers, rich with the earth.

Your eyes go out toward the water, and the waves rise;
your hands go out to the earth and the seeds swell;
you know the deep essence of water and the earth,
conjoined in you like a formula for clay.

Naiad: cut your body into turquoise pieces,
they will bloom resurrected in the kitchen.
This is how you become everything that lives.

And so at last, you sleep, in the circle of my arms
that push back the shadows so that you can rest--
vegetables, seaweed, herbs: the foam of your dreams.

I agree with Poppy. Angeline, that was wonderful. That expressed what I wish I could.

 

[atmas]

You need to clear out some of your pm's. Here's what I tried to send:

atmas,

May I add a link to this thread in my sig? It's ok if you don't want me too...I just think it's very cool. The link would say:

Go Here to Write a Poem to Kill Time by atmas

I think you should put a link in your sig, too.

..would be an honor...

 

[passionkat]

pm box full

fool

 

[Angeline]

Poppy, VBE, thank you both. I love poetry threads (obviously) and this is a great one. I didn't know Atmas writes poetry, but his poems here are wonderful. (Atmas, you should be publishing this stuff if you aren't already!)

And Pablo Neruda is just marvelous imo--his love poems are so sensual and heartfelt.

Here's one more.

Sonnet XVII
Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms,
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I do not exist, nor you:
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

 

[atmas]

pm box full

fool

not any more

 

[poppy1963]

..would be an honor...

Well then is done!

 

[atmas]

William Butler Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

 

[veryblueeyes]

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

You have Irish/Scot in you, as well. I like that you know that.

/carry on

 

[atmas]

You have Irish/Scot in you, as well. I like that you know that.

/carry on

Thanks. That one was memorized.

 

[Angeline]

Conquest Of The Garden
Forugh Farrokhzad

That crow which flew over our heads
and descended into the disturbed thought
of a vagabond cloud
and the sound of which traversed
the breadth of the horizon
like a short spear
will carry the news of us to the city.

Everyone knows,
everyone knows
that you and I have seen the garden
from that cold sullen window
and that we have plucked the apple
from that playful, hard-to-reach branch.

Everyone is afraid
everyone is afraid, but you and I
joined with the lamp
and water and mirror and we were not afraid.

I am not talking about the flimsy linking
of two names
and embracing in the old pages of a ledger.

I'm talking about my fortunate tresses
with the burnt anemone of your kiss
and the intimacy of our bodies,
and the glow of our nakedness
like fish scales in the water.
I am talking about the silvery life of a song
which a small fountain sings at dawn.
we asked wild rabbits one night
in that green flowing forest
and shells full of pearls
in that turbulent cold blooded sea
and the young eagles
on that strange overwhelming mountain
what should be done.

Everyone knows,
everyone knows
we have found our way
Into the cold, quiet dream of phoenixes:
we found truth in the garden
In the embarrassed look of a nameless flower,
and we found permanence
In an endless moment
when two suns stared at each other.

I am not talking about timorous whispering
In the dark.
I am talking about daytime and open windows
and fresh air and a stove in which useless things burn
and land which is fertile
with a different planting
and birth and evolution and pride.
I am talking about our loving hands
which have built across nights a bridge
of the message of perfume
and light and breeze.
come to the meadow
to the grand meadow
and call me, from behind the breaths
of silk-tasseled acacias
just like the deer calls its mate.

The curtains are full of hidden anger
and innocent doves
look to the ground
from their towering white height.

 

[Kain__Thornn]

That crack in my heart
Morning sunlight
Only one will fade
After it peaks

 

[atmas]

I have lain rested in you
and felt the constancy of ebbing heat
raised in flesh passion.

My lips have sensed the promise
of no other breasts, my hands
have stroked no other generous thighs,
my heart has sought no other direction.

 

[atmas]

the quality of your smile as you wake.
The years behind you bathed in dawn.

 

[atmas]

Even birds help
each other. Come
close. Closer.
Help me
kiss you.

 

[passionkat]

Even birds help
each other. Come
close. Closer.
Help me
kiss you.

Did you write this?

DId you write this for me?

 

[atmas]

Oh the welcome, the ease,
the walls saturated,
slithering into soft mounds.

We breathed,
we drank,
taking care not to tear the lace.

 

[atmas]

To choose is never a casual act,
nor is love, nor is any handmade gift.
I have unwrapped myself: if you hold back,
your hand will remain empty, a high cost
for no interest. With a single touch,
we balance gain and loss --the feel of choice.

 

[atmas]

Did you write this?

DId you write this for me?

Naturally.

 

[atmas]

Good God, what a night that was,
The bed was so soft, and how we clung,
Burning together, lying this way and that,
Our uncontrollable passions
Flowing through our mouths.
If I could only die that way,
I'd say goodbye to the business of living.

 

[poppy1963]

Good Morning atmas!

.....

 

[poppy1963]

.....

 

[Angeline]

One of my favorite poems by my favorite Lit poet--the late, but ever marvelous, smithpeter.

Spending Time Near Her Face
by smithpeter ©

On the porch during storms
in late afternoon
with electricity inspires poems
for mathematics and ants.
All those lines and symbols in order
of chaos. Marching.

Waking next to your pucker
is more stirring.
You look sweet and sour.
There must be a bug in your nose.
The cure for that twitch is soft kiss of cheeks
and smoothing night ruffled hair.
My breakfast of sliced pears with sorbet and candle
does not dim from streaming morn.
We share licorice end to end.

You don a pair of smiles, dimples
and all the trimmings.
Good morning my lover's, lovely face.