quote:

I Go Down To The Shore

I go down to the shore in the morning
and depending on the hour the waves
are rolling in or moving out,
and I say, oh, I am miserable,
what shall—
what should I do? And the sea says
in its lovely voice:
Excuse me, I have work to do.

Chewbecca posted:

Old Man Platypus, by Banjo Paterson

Macnult posted:

Skateboarding, by Peter Davis

Macnult posted:

a blinking light, by macnult

Stoner Sloth posted:

I'm sure it's quite well known but always liked this one:

Bright Bart posted:

If you tell me this doesn't count I cut you

owlhawk911 posted:

a Poem about Selling Out for OP to Read

Chewbecca posted:

My router, by Chewbecca

Sid Vicious posted:

i tried my hand at writing a poem it is about my son

TedHornsby posted:

.

PHIZ KALIFA posted:

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42541/conversation-56d2211ab459b

quote:

SELF-PORTRAIT
by Mary Oliver

I wish I was twenty and in love with life
and still full of beans.

Onward, old legs!
There are the long, pale dunes; on the other side
the roses are blooming and finding their labor
no adversity to the spirit.

Upward, old legs! There are the roses, and there is the sea
shining like a song, like a body
I want to touch

though I’m not twenty
and won’t be again but ah! seventy. And still
in love with life. And still
full of beans.

quote:

On Meditating, Sort Of: Mary Oliver

Meditation, so I’ve heard, is best accomplished
if you entertain a certain strict posture.
Frankly, I prefer just to lounge under a tree.
So why should I think I could ever be successful?

Some days I fall asleep, or land in that
even better place — half asleep — where the world,
spring, summer, autumn, winter —
flies through my mind in its
hardy ascent and its uncompromising descent.

So I just lie like that, while distance and time
reveal their true attitudes: they never
heard of me, and never will, or ever need to.

Of course I wake up finally
thinking, how wonderful to be who I am,
made out of earth and water,
my own thoughts, my own fingerprints —
all that glorious, temporary stuff.

pork never goes bad posted:

My Brothers Have Not Read “Little Women”

Scarlett Curtis

quote:

The Other Kingdoms

Consider the other kingdoms. The
trees, for example, with their mellow-sounding
titles: oak, aspen, willow.
Or the snow, for which the peoples of the north
have dozens of words to describe its
different arrivals. Or the creatures, with their
thick fur, their shy and wordless gaze. Their
infallible sense of what their lives
are meant to be. Thus the world
grows rich, grows wild, and you too,
grow rich, grow sweetly wild, as you too
were born to be.

~ Mary Oliver

aldantefax posted:

your life is your life

don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.

be on the watch.

there are ways out.

there is light somewhere.

it may not be much light but

it beats the darkness.

(1-7)

‘The Laughing Heart.’ The Laughing Heart. Black Sparrow Press, 1993.

owlhawk911 posted:

another poem for op to read

aldantefax posted:

near-death season

sunfire forbore the shelter the cold over the ink that etches

us // i am waiting to sieve more loam & more breath from

the hush that surrounds // all used up i am fallen & rooted

but never sit still // the bark-carven glyphs stay charred //

the strobes of mourning bless the dark patterns & the still

waters of the womb // the lake of decay smears the cobwebs

ethereal // soon the moths will spin silver silk // the brood of

black magic & alchemy twines soft the chosen lameness //

abuse & trauma legacy + genes still the reasons i feel what i

feel

aldantefax posted:

fetch your haiku books
select a poem to read us
post it in the yob

aldantefax posted:

autumn wind --
with two different patterns
two plates

so lonesome
when I write my name --
summer dawn

pond smelt
both in life and death
have their bodies bent

saffron in bloom --
the movie yesterday
murdered a man

the soul, the breasts,
and all else are held in the arms
when autumn arrives

beautifully
the cremation ends
before noon

quote:

An Old Story

by: Mary Oliver

Sleep comes its little while. Then I wake
in the valley of midnight or three a.m.
to the first fragrance of spring

which is coming, all by itself, no matter what.
My heart says, what you thought you have you do not have.
My body says, will this pounding ever stop?

My heart says, there, there, be a good student.
My body says let me up and out. I want to fondle
those soft white flowers, open in the night.

owlhawk911 posted:

i will make terrible songs for your poems op. you want em first to read to, or you gonna send me poems to jam to, or what?

Bright Bart posted:

If you tell me this doesn't count I cut you

aldantefax posted:

I don't know how to sing this one particularly well (or at all) so I can only give you this:

https://voca.ro/11z8ZrZhz2ZI

if i can figure out how to do it properly i will put in a recording

will put this here for later analysis https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=khxx3sCVhtE

barnold posted:

enjoyed reading this poem tbh

https://voca.ro/18QZcUbnubpO

quote:

quote:

Monkey Hunter
How to catch a monkey

Hang down from a tree
And make a sound like a banana

by Eisuke "Pretty Hard-Boiled" Kagawa

quote:

An Old Woman’s Painting
BY LYNN EMANUEL
Scrape the sun from the wall of  the sky.
Cast the great nets of  autumn over the houses.
Even the throat of  the lily is a dangerous inlet.

Let the world stand wearily on the stoop of  the jail
of  the world and the light of  the mind, that small lamp,
pearl of  shine, let the night come to it, as iron filings to a magnet,
mother.

Source: Poetry (February 2008)

prepuce repurposed posted:

anabell lee. all of it

Chewbecca posted:

Bad dream, by Chewbecca

quote:

Wind chimes in sunset / The whisper of a city / heard from a porch chair

Dogs barking loudly / curious and worriedly / at a passing cat

The bird seed dangles / waiting for new friends to feed / tomorrow they'll come

prepuce repurposed posted:

Annabel Lee