|
Post by funhouse on Apr 23, 2018 15:28:36 GMT -5
I don't know that much about poetry, but I would like to know more. What's kept me back is probably that I don't know where to start really, and there is no "poetry Spotify", or at least not that I know of. I recently found a site called "Hello Poetry", but once again, it's hard to decide where to start. Maybe this thread could help, but hopefully it could be of value to other people as well ^^ Just post any poem that you like!
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2018 15:33:33 GMT -5
I know nothing about poetry housie, apart from I adore Kipling’s “If.”
I studied the war poets at school, Sassoon etc. They were pretty enlightening.
|
|
|
Post by funhouse on Apr 23, 2018 15:34:52 GMT -5
Here's one that stuck with me, and I'm not sure why.
Ice Cream People, by Charles Bukowski
the lady has me temporarily off the bottle and now the pecker stands up better. however, things change overnight-- instead of listening to Shostakovich and Mozart through a smeared haze of smoke the nights change, new complexities: we drive to Baskin-Robbins, 31 flavors: Rocky Road, Bubble Gum, Apricot Ice, Strawberry Cheesecake, Chocolate Mint...
we park outside and look at icecream people a very healthy and satisfied people, nary a potential suicide in sight (they probably even vote) and I tell her "what if the boys saw me go in there? suppose they find out I'm going in for a walnut peach sundae?" "come on, chicken," she laughs and we go in and stand with the icecream people. none of them are cursing or threatening the clerks. there seem to be no hangovers or grievances. I am alarmed at the placid and calm wave that flows about. I feel like a leper in a beauty contest. we finally get our sundaes and sit in the car and eat them.
I must admit they are quite good. a curious new world. (all my friends tell me I am looking better. "you're looking good, man, we thought you were going to die there for a while...") --those 4,500 dark nights, the jails, the hospitals...
and later that night there is use for the pecker, use for love, and it is glorious, long and true, and afterwards we speak of easy things; our heads by the open window with the moonlight looking through, we sleep in each other's arms.
the icecream people make me feel good, inside and out.
|
|
|
Post by funhouse on Apr 23, 2018 15:35:24 GMT -5
I know nothing about poetry housie, apart from I adore Kipling’s “If.” I studied the war poets at school, Sassoon etc. They were pretty enlightening. Post it then
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2018 15:36:29 GMT -5
If you like that one above you won’t like the ones I recommended 😐 very different.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2018 15:36:44 GMT -5
I know nothing about poetry housie, apart from I adore Kipling’s “If.” I studied the war poets at school, Sassoon etc. They were pretty enlightening. Post it then Ok. I’ll find it.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2018 15:37:37 GMT -5
If—
IF you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, ' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch, if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
|
|
|
Post by funhouse on Apr 23, 2018 15:37:59 GMT -5
If you like that one above you won’t like the ones I recommended 😐 very different. Hey, why shouldn't I be able to have a diverse taste in poetry?
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2018 15:39:02 GMT -5
It was used beautifully here:
|
|
|
Post by mrose on Apr 23, 2018 15:39:23 GMT -5
This is the first poem I had to study in college, my professor was obsessed with it:
Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound’s the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
Cool Thread!
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2018 15:39:44 GMT -5
If you like that one above you won’t like the ones I recommended 😐 very different. Hey, why shouldn't I be able to have a diverse taste in poetry? Hahahaha
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2018 15:40:20 GMT -5
I know fuck all about poetry but I kinda like listening to music that's very poetic. And I don't even necessarily mean hip hop (I like it though) but just songs with poetic lyrics.
It can be proper rock or just music with very a simple beat and almost like spoken vocals.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2018 15:42:10 GMT -5
It was used beautifully here: Just watched this again, I’m a bit deep hey?
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2018 15:44:35 GMT -5
Although I have somehow forgotten which bands I even mean by that. But I've definitely encountered some...
|
|
|
Post by funhouse on Apr 23, 2018 15:46:34 GMT -5
I know fuck all about poetry but I kinda like listening to music that's very poetic. And I don't even necessarily mean hip hop (I like it though) but just songs with poetic lyrics. It can be proper rock or just music with very a simple beat and almost like spoken vocals. Same here, which is one of the reasons that I finally went "hey, why don't I read/show any intrest in poetry?"
|
|
|
Post by funhouse on Apr 23, 2018 15:47:06 GMT -5
Although I have somehow forgotten which bands I even mean by that. But I've definitely encountered some... Smiths is probably one?
|
|
|
Post by funhouse on Apr 23, 2018 15:49:06 GMT -5
It was used beautifully here: Just watched this again, I’m a bit deep hey? Poetry + opera + football clips in slowmotion = works every time
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2018 15:52:45 GMT -5
More than slightly off topic but I’ve seen clips of when England have been knocked out of tournaments, closing with Oasis Stop Crying and Cast Walk Away. Dunno why but they’re very moving.
|
|
|
Post by funhouse on Apr 23, 2018 15:54:32 GMT -5
More than slightly off topic but I’ve seen clips of when England have been knocked out of tournaments, closing with Oasis Stop Crying and Cast Walk Away. Dunno why but they’re very moving. Wonder which song it'll be this year?
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2018 15:55:37 GMT -5
More than slightly off topic but I’ve seen clips of when England have been knocked out of tournaments, closing with Oasis Stop Crying and Cast Walk Away. Dunno why but they’re very moving. Wonder which song it'll be this year? 😂😂😂😂 dead in the water I’m saying 😂😂😛
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2018 15:59:11 GMT -5
Les sanglots longs Des violons De l'automne Blessent mon coeur D'une langueur Monotone.
Tout suffocant Et blême, quand Sonne l'heure, Je me souviens Des jours anciens Et je pleure
Et je m'en vais Au vent mauvais Qui m'emporte Deçà, delà, Pareil à la Feuille morte.
"Chanson d'Automne", Paul Verlaine
|
|
|
Post by funhouse on Apr 23, 2018 16:01:52 GMT -5
Les sanglots longs Des violons De l'automne Blessent mon coeur D'une langueur Monotone. Tout suffocant Et blême, quand Sonne l'heure, Je me souviens Des jours anciens Et je pleure Et je m'en vais Au vent mauvais Qui m'emporte Deçà, delà, Pareil à la Feuille morte. "Chanson d'Automne", Paul Verlaine Something about monotone violins, then someone gets suffocated, and eventually dies in the end?
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2018 16:02:39 GMT -5
Although I have somehow forgotten which bands I even mean by that. But I've definitely encountered some... Smiths is probably one? Yeah. I guess Libertines too and Trampolene which I found because of Libertines and they're supporting Liam in Finsbury
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2018 16:07:16 GMT -5
Les sanglots longs Des violons De l'automne Blessent mon coeur D'une langueur Monotone. Tout suffocant Et blême, quand Sonne l'heure, Je me souviens Des jours anciens Et je pleure Et je m'en vais Au vent mauvais Qui m'emporte Deçà, delà, Pareil à la Feuille morte. "Chanson d'Automne", Paul Verlaine Something about monotone violins, then someone gets suffocated, and eventually dies in the end? It's about someone passing away indeed.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 23, 2018 16:16:21 GMT -5
Rappelle-toi Barbara Il pleuvait sans cesse sur Brest ce jour-là Et tu marchais souriante Épanouie ravie ruisselante Sous la pluie Rappelle-toi Barbara Il pleuvait sans cesse sur Brest
Et je t'ai croisée rue de Siam Tu souriais Et moi je souriais de même Rappelle-toi Barbara Toi que je ne connaissais pas Toi qui ne me connaissais pas Rappelle-toi Rappelle-toi quand même ce jour-là N'oublie pas Un homme sous un porche s'abritait Et il a crié ton nom Barbara Et tu as couru vers lui sous la pluie Ruisselante ravie épanouie Et tu t'es jetée dans ses bras Rappelle-toi cela Barbara Et ne m'en veux pas si je te tutoie Je dis tu à tous ceux que j'aime Même si je ne les ai vus qu'une seule fois Je dis tu à tous ceux qui s'aiment Même si je ne les connais pas Rappelle-toi Barbara N'oublie pas Cette pluie sage et heureuse Sur ton visage heureux Sur cette ville heureuse Cette pluie sur la mer Sur l'arsenal Sur le bateau d'Ouessant Oh Barbara Quelle connerie la guerre Qu'es-tu devenue maintenant Sous cette pluie de fer De feu d'acier de sang Et celui qui te serrait dans ses bras Amoureusement Est-il mort disparu ou bien encore vivant Oh Barbara Il pleut sans cesse sur Brest Comme il pleuvait avant Mais ce n'est plus pareil et tout est abimé C'est une pluie de deuil terrible et désolée Ce n'est même plus l'orage De fer d'acier de sang Tout simplement des nuages Qui crèvent comme des chiens Des chiens qui disparaissent Au fil de l'eau sur Brest Et vont pourrir au loin Au loin très loin de Brest Dont il ne reste rien.
"Barbara", Jacques Prévert
|
|