Niki1 1
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Here's one to chew on in today's times...
Wislava Szymborska...
The End and the Beginning
After every war
someone has to tidy up.
Things won't pick
themselves up, after all.
Someone has to shove
the rubble to the roadsides
so the carts loaded with corpses
can get by.
Someone has to trudge
through sludge and ashes,
through the sofa springs,
the shards of glass,
the bloody rags.
Someone has to lug the post
to prop the wall,
someone has to glaze the window,
set the door in its frame.
No sound bites, no photo opportunities,
and it takes years.
All the cameras have gone
to other wars.
The bridges need to be rebuilt,
the railroad stations, too.
Shirtsleeves will be rolled
to shreds.
Someone, broom in hand,
still remembers how it was.
Someone else listens, nodding
his unshattered head.
But others are bound to be bustling nearby
who'll find all that
a little boring.
From time to time someone still must
dig up a rusted argument
from underneath a bush
and haul it off to the dump.
Those who knew
what this was all about
must make way for those
who know little.
And less than that.
And at last nothing less than nothing.
Someone has to lie there
in the grass that covers up
the causes and effects
with a cornstalk in his teeth,
gawking at clouds.
Yes, it's been 5 years since this was posted, but it's too good for me to pass by without comment. I looked up the author, and after winning a Nobel in 1996 at the age of 73, she just released another book this year. Having found a few pieces of her work online, I'm gonna have to go find more.
Blues,
Dave
"I AM A PROFESSIONAL EXTREME ATHLETE!"
(drink Mountain Dew)
(drink Mountain Dew)
freefal 0
OUT OF THE VAST
There's part of the sun in an apple,
There's part of the moon in a rose;
There's part of the flaming Pleiades
In every leaf that grows.
Out of the vast comes nearness;
For the God whose love we sing
Lends a little of his heaven
To every living thing.
August W. Bornberger
"Ignorance is bliss" and "Patience is a virtue"... So if you're stupid and don't mind waiting around for a while, I guess you can have a pretty good life!
There's part of the sun in an apple,
There's part of the moon in a rose;
There's part of the flaming Pleiades
In every leaf that grows.
Out of the vast comes nearness;
For the God whose love we sing
Lends a little of his heaven
To every living thing.
August W. Bornberger
"Ignorance is bliss" and "Patience is a virtue"... So if you're stupid and don't mind waiting around for a while, I guess you can have a pretty good life!
jimmytavino 16
Re: The Calistoga Kid.!!!
I Know that poem....since one of my brothers has memorized !!! it.. and can recite it, on request !!. he does a real good job of it too!!!...We were in college when it was printed, and he took it upon himself to commit it to memory...
I enjoy poetry as well..
everything from Longfellow to Poe, Doctor Suess, to Rudyard Kipling...
I memorized Casey At The Bat, when i was a kid and was awarded First place in a grade school Oratorical Contest....
my current favorite?????
A Flea & A Fly ...
A Flea and a Fly In a Flue,..
Were imprisoned so what could they do?..
Said the Fly, "let's flee
Said the Flea, "let's fly"
So they flew through a flaw in the flue.
jmy
Niki1 1
QuoteRe: The Calistoga Kid.!!!
I Know that poem....since one of my brothers has memorized !!! it.. and can recite it, on request !!. he does a real good job of it too!!!...We were in college when it was printed, and he took it upon himself to commit it to memory...
I enjoy poetry as well..
everything from Longfellow to Poe, Doctor Suess, to Rudyard Kipling...
I memorized Casey At The Bat, when i was a kid and was awarded First place in a grade school Oratorical Contest....
my current favorite?????
A Flea & A Fly ...
A Flea and a Fly In a Flue,..
Were imprisoned so what could they do?..
Said the Fly, "let's fleeSaid the Flea, "let's fly"
So they flew through a flaw in the flue.
jmy
I don't think that was Longfellow, Poe or Kipling. Maybe Suess or Ogdan Nash. Can you say it real fast?
If your brother memorized "The Great Smoke Off", he was not using any -- Maui Wowie, Panama Red and Acapulco Gold.
Kif from East Afghanistan and rare Alaskan Cold.
Sticks from Thailand, Ganja from the Islands, and Bangkok's Bloomin' Best.
And some of that wet imported shit that capsized off Key West.
Oaxacan tops and Kenya Bhang and Riviera Fleurs.
And that rare Manhatten Silver that grows down in the New York sewers.
That's my favorite part. Especially the "wet imported shit that capsized off Key West." Hmm... I think I got some of that. No, there's none left.
Most of the things worth doing in the world had been declared impossilbe before they were done.
Louis D Brandeis
Where are we going and why are we in this basket?
Louis D Brandeis
Where are we going and why are we in this basket?
Man small
Why fall?
Skies call
That's all.
Why fall?
Skies call
That's all.
- Neil
Never make assumptions! That harmless rectangle could be two triangles having sex ...
Never make assumptions! That harmless rectangle could be two triangles having sex ...
Croc 0
Time to revive this old post! I have many favorite poems. Here is Robert Frost's response to T.S. Elliot's "The Wasteland":
The Onset
Always the same, when on a fated night
At last the gathered snow lets down as white
As may be in dark woods, and with a song
It shall not make again all winter long
Of hissing on the yet uncovered ground,
I almost stumble looking up and round,
As one who overtaken by the end
Gives up his errand, and lets death descend
Upon him where he is, with nothing done
To evil, no important triumph won,
More than if life had never been begun.
Yet all the precedent is on my side:
I know that winter death has never tried
The earth but it has failed: the snow may heap
In long storms an undrifted four feet deep
As measured against maple, birch and oak,
It cannot check the peeper's silver croak;
And I shall see the snow all go downhill
In water of a slender April rill
That flashes tail through last year's withered brake
And dead weeds, like a disappearing snake.
Nothing will be left of white but here a birch,
And there a clump of houses with a church.
The Onset
Always the same, when on a fated night
At last the gathered snow lets down as white
As may be in dark woods, and with a song
It shall not make again all winter long
Of hissing on the yet uncovered ground,
I almost stumble looking up and round,
As one who overtaken by the end
Gives up his errand, and lets death descend
Upon him where he is, with nothing done
To evil, no important triumph won,
More than if life had never been begun.
Yet all the precedent is on my side:
I know that winter death has never tried
The earth but it has failed: the snow may heap
In long storms an undrifted four feet deep
As measured against maple, birch and oak,
It cannot check the peeper's silver croak;
And I shall see the snow all go downhill
In water of a slender April rill
That flashes tail through last year's withered brake
And dead weeds, like a disappearing snake.
Nothing will be left of white but here a birch,
And there a clump of houses with a church.
"Here's a good specimen of my own wisdom. Something is so, except when it isn't so."
Charles Fort, commenting on the many contradictions of astronomy
Charles Fort, commenting on the many contradictions of astronomy
BobMoore 0
I'm not into poems but there was one that I just can't get out of my head. The first line goes something like this:
There once was a lady from Nantucket ...
There once was a lady from Nantucket ...
"For you see, an airplane is an airplane. A landing area is a landing area. But a dropzone... a dropzone is the people."
This is the only poem I've ever memorized.
Whose woods are these 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's 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
-Robert Frost
Whose woods are these 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's 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
-Robert Frost
Croc 0
Another favorite, this one by Tennyson:
The Eagle
He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
The Eagle
He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ringed with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.
"Here's a good specimen of my own wisdom. Something is so, except when it isn't so."
Charles Fort, commenting on the many contradictions of astronomy
Charles Fort, commenting on the many contradictions of astronomy
Croc 0
That's the first poem I memorized, in the fourth grade. I had to recite it in front of the whole class.
But it did get me interested in poetry. A great poem.
But it did get me interested in poetry. A great poem.
"Here's a good specimen of my own wisdom. Something is so, except when it isn't so."
Charles Fort, commenting on the many contradictions of astronomy
Charles Fort, commenting on the many contradictions of astronomy
Croc 0
Well, let's hear it!
"Here's a good specimen of my own wisdom. Something is so, except when it isn't so."
Charles Fort, commenting on the many contradictions of astronomy
Charles Fort, commenting on the many contradictions of astronomy
ryoder 1,381
QuoteThis is the only poem I've ever memorized.
Whose woods are these 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's 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
-Robert Frost
Dah!
I just got this strange urge to go blow something up.
"There are only three things of value: younger women, faster airplanes, and bigger crocodiles" - Arthur Jones.
adamUK 3
I like Invictus by William Ernest Henley.
It describes one man's struggle against adversity (his own disability) and how becoming 'captain of my soul' he comes to terms with it. Powerful stuff:
It describes one man's struggle against adversity (his own disability) and how becoming 'captain of my soul' he comes to terms with it. Powerful stuff:
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
I posted this poem in the thread 8 years ago so I think its OK to repost it again now for others to enjoy.
This is one of my favorites since it was written by our own Freeflyhol(Holly Kish)
"Every day I realize more and more how
perfectly wonderful life is. I am truly blessed
to just be here, enjoying this moment. Putting
these mere words on paper can't nearly
describe my diverse range of emotions felt on
a daily basis. I am but one soul standing at
the tip of an iceberg cascading down, called
life. Perhaps I should rephrase this. I am at
the bottom staring up upon this angelic,
crystalized, God-sent perfection, on my
journey up."
This is one of my favorites since it was written by our own Freeflyhol(Holly Kish)
"Every day I realize more and more how
perfectly wonderful life is. I am truly blessed
to just be here, enjoying this moment. Putting
these mere words on paper can't nearly
describe my diverse range of emotions felt on
a daily basis. I am but one soul standing at
the tip of an iceberg cascading down, called
life. Perhaps I should rephrase this. I am at
the bottom staring up upon this angelic,
crystalized, God-sent perfection, on my
journey up."
"It's just skydiving..additional drama is not required"
Some people dream about flying, I live my dream
SKYMONKEY PUBLISHING
Some people dream about flying, I live my dream
SKYMONKEY PUBLISHING
Croc 0
Another favorite, this one a Zen-like poem by Gary Snyder:
Mid-August at Sourdough Mountain Lookout
Down valley a smoke haze
Three days heat after five days rain
Pitch glows on the fir cones
Across rocks and meadows
Swarms of new flies.
I cannot remember things I once read
A few friends, but they are in cities.
Drinking cold snow-water from a tin cup
Looking down for miles
Through high still air.
Mid-August at Sourdough Mountain Lookout
Down valley a smoke haze
Three days heat after five days rain
Pitch glows on the fir cones
Across rocks and meadows
Swarms of new flies.
I cannot remember things I once read
A few friends, but they are in cities.
Drinking cold snow-water from a tin cup
Looking down for miles
Through high still air.
"Here's a good specimen of my own wisdom. Something is so, except when it isn't so."
Charles Fort, commenting on the many contradictions of astronomy
Charles Fort, commenting on the many contradictions of astronomy
rifleman 61
My personal favourite poem:
The Golden Journey to Samarkand
We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go
Always a little further; it may be
Beyond that last blue mountain barred with snow,
Across that angry or that glimmering sea.
White on a throne or guarded in a cave
There lives a prophet who can understand
Why men were born; but surely we are brave,
Who take the Golden Road to Samarkand.
Sweet to ride forth at evening from the wells
When shadows pass gigantic on the sand,
And softly through the silence beat the bells
Along the Golden Road to Samarkand.
We travel not for trafficking alone;
By hotter winds our fiery hearts are fanned;
For lust of knowing what should not be known
We make the Golden Journey to Samarkand.
- James Elroy Flecker
The Golden Journey to Samarkand
We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go
Always a little further; it may be
Beyond that last blue mountain barred with snow,
Across that angry or that glimmering sea.
White on a throne or guarded in a cave
There lives a prophet who can understand
Why men were born; but surely we are brave,
Who take the Golden Road to Samarkand.
Sweet to ride forth at evening from the wells
When shadows pass gigantic on the sand,
And softly through the silence beat the bells
Along the Golden Road to Samarkand.
We travel not for trafficking alone;
By hotter winds our fiery hearts are fanned;
For lust of knowing what should not be known
We make the Golden Journey to Samarkand.
- James Elroy Flecker
Atheism is a Non-Prophet Organisation
Namowal 0
I can't say I have a favorite- but that spooky, spooky T.S. Eliot poem "The Waste Land" has a few parts that remind me of skydiving:
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went
and when the green light goes on I always think:
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
Eliot would have been horrified.
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went
and when the green light goes on I always think:
HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
Eliot would have been horrified.
My blog with the skydiving duck cartoons.
muff528 3
Jim McGuinn is no T.S. Eliot but I suppose this could be a poem if you don't sing it.
Oh, how is it that I could come out to you,
And be still floatin',
And never hit bottom but keep falling through,
Just relaxed and paying attention?
All my two-dimensional boundaries were gone,
I had lost to them badly,
I saw that world crumble and thought I was dead,
But I found my senses still working.
And as I continued to drop through the hole,
I found all surrounding,
To show me that joy innocently is,
Just be quiet and feel it around you.
(Bridge)
And I opened my heart to the whole universe,
And I found it was loving,
And I saw the great blunder my teachers had made,
Scientific delirium madness.
I will keep falling as long as I live,
Ah, without ending,
And I will remember the place that is now,
That has ended before the beginning ...
Oh, how is it that I could come out to you,
And be still floatin',
And never hit bottom but keep falling through,
Just relaxed and paying attention?
~J. McGuinn
Croc 0
Have you read Elliot's "The Hollow Men"? Now that's spooky! It ends:
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
"Here's a good specimen of my own wisdom. Something is so, except when it isn't so."
Charles Fort, commenting on the many contradictions of astronomy
Charles Fort, commenting on the many contradictions of astronomy
Namowal 0
QuoteJim McGuinn is no T.S. Eliot but I suppose this could be a poem if you don't sing it.
I can see why it would.
QuoteHave you read Elliot's "The Hollow Men"? Now that's spooky! It ends:
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
Yep. That's spooky!
My blog with the skydiving duck cartoons.
I never went in for poetry but a couple have struck my fancy as a kid and have stuck with me all these years.
One was:
Ernest Lawrence Thayer
Casey At the Bat
The other was:
Frank Silver and Irving Cohn (1923)
Yes, We Have No Bananas
There's a fruit store on our street
It's run by a Greek.
And he keeps good things to eat
But you should hear him speak!
When you ask him anything, he never answers "no".
He just "yes"es you to death, And as he takes your dough, he tells you...
"Yes! We have no bananas
We have no bananas today!!
We have string beans and onions, cabBAges and scallions
And all kinds of fruit and say
We have an old fashioned toMAHto
A Long Island poTAHto, but
Yes! We have no bananas
We have no bananas today!"
Business got so good for him that he wrote home today,
"Send me Pete and Nick and Jim; I need help right away."
When he got them in the store, there was fun, you bet.
Someone asked for "sparrow grass"
and then the whole quartet
All answered:
"Yes, we have no bananas
We have-a no bananas today.
Just try those coconuts
Those wall-nuts and doughnuts
There ain't many nuts like they.
We'll sell you two kinds of red herring,
Dark brown, and ball-bearing.
But yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today."
One was:
Ernest Lawrence Thayer
Casey At the Bat
The other was:
Frank Silver and Irving Cohn (1923)
Yes, We Have No Bananas
There's a fruit store on our street
It's run by a Greek.
And he keeps good things to eat
But you should hear him speak!
When you ask him anything, he never answers "no".
He just "yes"es you to death, And as he takes your dough, he tells you...
"Yes! We have no bananas
We have no bananas today!!
We have string beans and onions, cabBAges and scallions
And all kinds of fruit and say
We have an old fashioned toMAHto
A Long Island poTAHto, but
Yes! We have no bananas
We have no bananas today!"
Business got so good for him that he wrote home today,
"Send me Pete and Nick and Jim; I need help right away."
When he got them in the store, there was fun, you bet.
Someone asked for "sparrow grass"
and then the whole quartet
All answered:
"Yes, we have no bananas
We have-a no bananas today.
Just try those coconuts
Those wall-nuts and doughnuts
There ain't many nuts like they.
We'll sell you two kinds of red herring,
Dark brown, and ball-bearing.
But yes, we have no bananas
We have no bananas today."
My reality and yours are quite different.
I think we're all Bozos on this bus.
Falcon5232, SCS8170, SCSA353, POPS9398, DS239
I think we're all Bozos on this bus.
Falcon5232, SCS8170, SCSA353, POPS9398, DS239
A mans ambition must be small
To write his name on a bathroom wall.
Louis D Brandeis
Where are we going and why are we in this basket?
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