Poetry here.

What is art? What is beauty?

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Pluto
Posts: 1856
Joined: Thu May 15, 2008 9:26 pm
Location: Belgium

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Pluto »

The Russian born man said
That people in the West
Did not understand the system
That was plain
Living in a gothic fairy tale
They thought it designed by God
The rulers behind the curtain
Were able to commit multiple atrocities
Without fear of detection or comeuppance
Pluto
Posts: 1856
Joined: Thu May 15, 2008 9:26 pm
Location: Belgium

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Pluto »

CONSTRUCT
THE DREAM-SCAPE
IN POWER'S FAVOUR
Pluto
Posts: 1856
Joined: Thu May 15, 2008 9:26 pm
Location: Belgium

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Pluto »

trump
the system
to get
where you
need to get
marjoram_blues
Posts: 1629
Joined: Sat Mar 28, 2015 12:50 pm

Re: Poetry here.

Post by marjoram_blues »

Ae Fond Kiss - Robert Burns song.
...
Had we never lov'd sae kindly,
Had we never lov'd sae blindly,
Never met - or never parted,
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.
...
Pluto
Posts: 1856
Joined: Thu May 15, 2008 9:26 pm
Location: Belgium

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Pluto »

the person in power goes with the times
the times were calling out for a trump
the times were created for a trump
the times are created
Pluto
Posts: 1856
Joined: Thu May 15, 2008 9:26 pm
Location: Belgium

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Pluto »

The system puts trump in
Yet you think you did it
Different characters at the helm
Are useful
You have the backing of the family
Say the Rothchilds
What is happening is a kind of social
Experiment
Beauty
Posts: 283
Joined: Mon Sep 12, 2016 3:08 pm

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Beauty »

Beauty is skin deep, nonetheless alluring, attractive, amazing.
Together with character, it is irresistible, soul satisfying, priceless.
Beauty
Posts: 283
Joined: Mon Sep 12, 2016 3:08 pm

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Beauty »

Pluto wrote:You cannot shine in the system
Unless you promote the system
So true!
Beauty
Posts: 283
Joined: Mon Sep 12, 2016 3:08 pm

Gibberish(It means nonsense)!

Post by Beauty »

one full song
one full sentence
one full line
one full dime
one full poem
one full box
one full house
one full world
two full song
two full sentence
.............
...............
................
ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Pluto
Posts: 1856
Joined: Thu May 15, 2008 9:26 pm
Location: Belgium

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Pluto »

Drawn in blood
On the dance floor
Was a heart-shaped 'B'
How did it get there and by whom
And what did it mean if anything - a sign
A blood-stained heart on the floor of the Bataclan
Walker
Posts: 14280
Joined: Thu Nov 05, 2015 12:00 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Walker »

The poem exists independent of the poet, but the nuance of enunciation enhances meaning with sounds from the same receiver that first heard the poem in feeling and thought.

The simultaneous reading and hearing is a more incomparable than either, alone.

Sui generis.

Fern Hill
- Dylan Thomas

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8XG1B_7r4y8


Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light.

And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
In the sun that is young once only,
Time let me play and be
Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and
cold,
And the sabbath rang slowly
In the pebbles of the holy streams.

All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was
air
And playing, lovely and watery
And fire green as grass.
And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the
nightjars
Flying with the ricks, and the horses
Flashing into the dark.

And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white
With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all
Shining, it was Adam and maiden,
The sky gathered again
And the sun grew round that very day.
So it must have been after the birth of the simple light
In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking
warm
Out of the whinnying green stable
On to the fields of praise.

And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house
Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,
In the sun born over and over,
I ran my heedless ways,
My wishes raced through the house high hay
And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows
In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs
Before the children green and golden
Follow him out of grace.

Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would
take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising,
Nor that riding to sleep
I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea.
Pluto
Posts: 1856
Joined: Thu May 15, 2008 9:26 pm
Location: Belgium

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Pluto »

Dylan Thomas is really great
Pluto
Posts: 1856
Joined: Thu May 15, 2008 9:26 pm
Location: Belgium

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Pluto »

Did I walk over broken glass to you
A friend in black had once said
You are the tower whence all light
Walker
Posts: 14280
Joined: Thu Nov 05, 2015 12:00 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Walker »

Pluto wrote:Dylan Thomas is really great
I was curious to hear his voice. The reading reveals awareness of each word and its implications, through layers of meaning and the way he shapes the sound of each word with such clear enunciation and care, and obvious respect for the word itself.

At first his delivery and tone sounded dated, like an old 78 rpm record, or old talkies not far removed from live emoting and stagecraft that tends to overdo to project. But by the end of the poem I was accustomed to the sounds, and hearing more than what newness to the sound masked in the beginning, like when you first get to know a person different from any you have known before.

The last three lines are what distinguish poetry itself as an incomparable art of whole-human content streamlined into brevity.

Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea.
Dubious
Posts: 4000
Joined: Tue May 19, 2015 7:40 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Dubious »

Fern Hill is a good poem but I always found his most famous one"Do not go gentle into that good night" semi ludicrous.
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