Poems you can relate to

[Al B. Sure!]

Not to be too soft or nothing but how about a thread about poems written by others that you're feeling?

this one is by a man named Jamal Holmes found in the "Poetry for the People" anthology we had to read in 10th grade. I usually hate these non-rhyming poems but still... i think i can relate to this one.

I am the neo-hoodlum intellectual
That alarms you so
The one just above the tides of poverty but
Just below the sands of the middle class

I study while I thieve from you and yours
I break into your stuff
reciting shakespeare and quoting socrates

educated in your institutions of granite pillars
and his story and little white lies
but also educated
in my institutions of chain-link fences
and my story and the black and white

the best and the worst
of two worlds colliding
creating me: the neo-hoodlum
intellectual

the man in Black with the briefcase
and intellectual glasses
that creeps around stealing
your forbes and newsweeks and your wall street journals

My accomplices and I
sit around the local liquor store
listening to chopin as we plot our next crime
after debating marxism with my brothers on the corner
I slide into the classroom and
debate the poetic value of tennyson

I steal and read and write and rob

I am the intellectual that charms you into leaving
your gates unlocked
then I become that hoodlum
that loots the place
and leaves
you wondering
clueless


thanks

[FrustratedPoet]

Re: Poems you can relate to

Originally posted by Albert Speer
Not to be gay or nothing

Here's one that's just beautiful:

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame by Gerard Manley Hopkins (1882)

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
    As tumbled over rim and roundy wells
    Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell's
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
    Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
    Selves- goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying What I do is me: for that I came.

I say more: the just man justices;
   Keeps gráce: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is--
   ChrÃst. For Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
   To the Father through the features of men's faces.

[Ming]

Re: Poems you can relate to

Originally posted by Albert Speer
Not to be gay or nothing...

Start another thread like that and you won't be posting anything for a while...

[Stefu]

As a pink flash the leotard leopard charges across the pinkily flashing plains.
lo! Cherish it like you would cherish
an exclamation mark appearing in the midst of a pretentious poem
which would have been crappy prose if it hadn't been
chopped up all poetylike.
I weep
Holding that which I dare not belong towards
or something
also holding an umbrella
lighting a cigarette
twirling a coin across my palm, up and down, up and down, like a merryweather applejack
Drinking the wine of love, freedom and justice for the poor oppressed peasants in Guatemala
or possibly Israel, these days
And finding something to do for my poetically licensed fifth arm, too
I weep and lo! doth the poem end agogogogogo... gonizingly.

-- BY A DARK MYSTERIOUS STRANGER

[Shi Huangdi]

Re: Poems you can relate to

Originally posted by Albert Speer
Not to be gay or nothing but how about a thread about poems written by others that you're feeling?

this one is by a man named Jamal Holmes found in the "Poetry for the People" anthology we had to read in 10th grade. I usually hate these non-rhyming poems but still... i think i can relate to this one.

I am the neo-hoodlum intellectual
That alarms you so
The one just above the tides of poverty but
Just below the sands of the middle class

I study while I thieve from you and yours
I break into your stuff
reciting shakespeare and quoting socrates

educated in your institutions of granite pillars
and his story and little white lies
but also educated
in my institutions of chain-link fences
and my story and the black and white

the best and the worst
of two worlds colliding
creating me: the neo-hoodlum
intellectual

the man in Black with the briefcase
and intellectual glasses
that creeps around stealing
your forbes and newsweeks and your wall street journals

My accomplices and I
sit around the local liquor store
listening to chopin as we plot our next crime
after debating marxism with my brothers on the corner
I slide into the classroom and
debate the poetic value of tennyson

I steal and read and write and rob

I am the intellectual that charms you into leaving
your gates unlocked
then I become that hoodlum
that loots the place
and leaves
you wondering
clueless


thanks

[Boris Godunov]

Well, won't be participating in this thread.

[FrustratedPoet]

My favourite poem by my favourite modern poet:

Why I am not a painter by Frank O'Hara

I am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
a painter, but I am not. Well,

for instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting a painting. I drop in.
"Sit down and have a drink" he
says. I drink; we drink. I look
up. "You have SARDINES in it."
"Yes, it needed something there."
"Oh." I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in. The painting is
finished. "Where's SARDINES?"
All that's left is just
letters, "It was too much," Mike says.

But me? One day I am thinking of
a color: orange. I write a line
about orange. Pretty soon it is a
whole page of words, not lines.
Then another page. There should be
so much more, not of orange, of
words, of how terrible orange is
and life. Days go by. It is even in
prose, I am a real poet. My poem
is finished and I haven't mentioned
orange yet. It's twelve poems, I call
it ORANGES. And one day in a gallery
I see Mike's painting, called SARDINES.

[Al B. Sure!]

Stefu:

I agree... i think poetry today is pretentious garbage by fake intellectuals who basically tell abstract stories masqueraded as poems. that one i posted was a very rare one that i even remotely liked but i still think it needs to rhyme and have structure...


Ming:

what did i do? you know what i meant... the colloquial meaning of gay

[Ming]

Originally posted by Albert Speer
what did i do? you know what i meant... the colloquial meaning of gay

Then I'm sure when a restriction does come your way, you will probably be surprised by it.

[FrustratedPoet]

Originally posted by Albert Speer
i think poetry today is pretentious garbage by fake intellectuals who basically tell abstract stories masqueraded as poems.

Yep, that's a pretty good description of the one you posted.

[Al B. Sure!]

i've always been surprised everytime i've been banned... i dont understand... people know what i meant... it's a word with multiple meanings... the word thread can mean a series of posts on a forum like this or the string people sew with...

[Al B. Sure!]

Frustrated:

Alright damn... i didnt like it THAT much... i just wanted an excuse to see what kind of poems people liked... damn...

[DinoDoc]

Originally posted by Boris Godunov
Well, won't be participating in this thread.

You just did.

[FrustratedPoet]

Okey dokey ... more poetry and less arguing!

Go with it Albert, let's see what you like.



Here's another one of my favourites. An old one this time.

"The Sun Rising" by John Donne

BUSY old fool, unruly Sun,
        Why dost thou thus,
Through windows, and through curtains, call on us ?
Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run ?
        Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide
        Late school-boys and sour prentices,
    Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride,
    Call country ants to harvest offices ;
Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,
Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.

        Thy beams so reverend, and strong
        Why shouldst thou think ?
I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink,
But that I would not lose her sight so long.
        If her eyes have not blinded thine,
        Look, and to-morrow late tell me,
    Whether both th' Indias of spice and mine
    Be where thou left'st them, or lie here with me.
Ask for those kings whom thou saw'st yesterday,
And thou shalt hear, "All here in one bed lay."

        She's all states, and all princes I ;
        Nothing else is ;
Princes do but play us ; compared to this,
All honour's mimic, all wealth alchemy.
        Thou, Sun, art half as happy as we,
        In that the world's contracted thus ;
    Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be
    To warm the world, that's done in warming us.
Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere ;
This bed thy center is, these walls thy sphere.

[Al B. Sure!]

John Donne... did he make that poem about how he was going to leave and he forbid his wife from mourning for him?