Poetry here.

What is art? What is beauty?

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Walker
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Re: Poetry here.

Post by Walker »

Gary Childress wrote: Sun Nov 06, 2022 6:12 pm
I was never much into comics, though I remember getting a Fantastic Four comic book when I was very young. As you seem to say, if only I had clairvoyance I would have tried to preserve it. Most of the books I read when I was young had to do with military history. Before Carl Sagan became my hero, General Patton was.
Interesting. When I was knee-high to a glasshopper my folks bought a full set of Encyclopedia Britannica (24 volumes), and a full set of My Book House, including the world history volumes bound in black, with gold lettering embossed into the covers. It was a big expense for them. As you say, they were clairvoyant, although I think they had a good bead on cause and effect. Drop the phone, drop the video games, drop the new narrative agendas in education. Teach a kid to read and give him or her a good book, a proper book.
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Agent Smith
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Joined: Fri Aug 12, 2022 12:23 pm

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Agent Smith »

The orchid pink
The mischievous wink
The missing link
For the love of God, do not, I repeat, DO NOT, blink!

:mrgreen:
Dubious
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Joined: Tue May 19, 2015 7:40 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Dubious »

This Be The Verse
By Philip Larkin


They fuck you up, your mum and dad.   
They may not mean to, but they do.   
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,   
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another’s throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don’t have any kids yourself.
Dontaskme
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Joined: Sat Mar 12, 2016 2:07 pm
Location: The Proof is in the Yorkshire Pudding

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Dontaskme »

It’s a hundred times better not be born
but if we cannot avoid the light,
the path of least harm is swiftly to return
to death’s eternal night



Lighten your tread
The ground beneath your feet is composed of the dead.

Walk slowly here and always take great pains
Not to trample some departed saint's remains.

And happiest here is the hermit with no hand
In making sons, who dies a childless man.
Gary Childress
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Joined: Sun Sep 25, 2011 3:08 pm
Location: Road to Oblivion

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Gary Childress »

Dontaskme wrote: Mon Nov 21, 2022 8:05 am It’s a hundred times better not be born
but if we cannot avoid the light,
the path of least harm is swiftly to return
to death’s eternal night



Lighten your tread
The ground beneath your feet is composed of the dead.

Walk slowly here and always take great pains
Not to trample some departed saint's remains.

And happiest here is the hermit with no hand
In making sons, who dies a childless man.
Wow! Did you write that, DAM? That's very profound.
Gary Childress
Posts: 3578
Joined: Sun Sep 25, 2011 3:08 pm
Location: Road to Oblivion

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Gary Childress »

Here's one I have the official US of A copyrights to. Submitted it to the Library of Congress a couple of years ago:

Past the Point of No Return
by Gary Childress


Diagnosed age twenty five
Hospitalized for nearly a week
For having paranoid delusions
Almost catatonic
Hardly able to speak

I was at work
Sitting in my boss’ office
Mumbling incoherently
Clutching a bible
Fearing for my life
Thinking it was all a conspiracy

So I was rushed off
To a psychiatric ward
Where they shot me up with meds
Then I was discharged
To a cheaper facility
Because my health insurance
Wouldn’t cover such a disability
But at least I was stabilized
Though fatigued all the time
And lying mostly in bed

That happened in the summer of 1991
I’ve had periodic relapses since then
Delusions of grandeur
Apocalyptic visions
With periods of depression
Now and again

I had no family history
Of anyone being mentally ill
Nor substance abuse
Of anything
That could have produced
Such bizarre
But crushing psychoses

So I don’t know For sure
Where I got these visions
Of conspiracy and persecution
However, in a world such as this
With so much violence and prejudice
I suppose it’s not improbable
To form such delusions

I can vaguely recall
What it was like
To feel normal,
To belong
However, 29 years
Seems like an eternity ago
And after having many episodes
Those days seem hopelessly distant
And irretrievably gone

I’m blessed and thankful to be alive
Still, I’ve worked and lost many odd jobs
At times felt hopeless and depressed
And being dependent on my folks all my life
It’s difficult to feel worthy
Of dignity and respect

But, medicine has come a long way
In these many years
And improvements in society continue
As some of the stigma associated
With mental illness has disappeared
It gives me some hope
And something promising
To hold on to

I often feel inadequate, burdensome
And harbor many regrets
I can frequently be dark and pessimistic
However, to be most honest
The future holds a great deal of promise
And after studying philosophy in college
I think it best to acknowledge
That despite whatever gloom and futility
Even though the world can be unforgiving
It’s still very much worth living
Because the only acceptable alternative
Is to never have lived
And that
Is no longer
A possibility
Dubious
Posts: 3364
Joined: Tue May 19, 2015 7:40 am

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Dubious »

Excellent poem Gary having a lot of meaning and reality to it clearly expressed. It's the kind of "I" poem which doesn't have any sentimentality attached to it which doesn't happen often!

You should keep writing; besides, it's good therapy!
Gary Childress
Posts: 3578
Joined: Sun Sep 25, 2011 3:08 pm
Location: Road to Oblivion

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Gary Childress »

Dubious wrote: Mon Nov 28, 2022 2:31 am Excellent poem Gary having a lot of meaning and reality to it clearly expressed. It's the kind of "I" poem which doesn't have any sentimentality attached to it which doesn't happen often!

You should keep writing; besides, it's good therapy!
Thank you. It helps with depression at times.
Dontaskme
Posts: 14325
Joined: Sat Mar 12, 2016 2:07 pm
Location: The Proof is in the Yorkshire Pudding

Re: Poetry here.

Post by Dontaskme »

Gary Childress wrote: Sun Nov 27, 2022 9:20 pm
Dontaskme wrote: Mon Nov 21, 2022 8:05 am It’s a hundred times better not be born
but if we cannot avoid the light,
the path of least harm is swiftly to return
to death’s eternal night



Lighten your tread
The ground beneath your feet is composed of the dead.

Walk slowly here and always take great pains
Not to trample some departed saint's remains.

And happiest here is the hermit with no hand
In making sons, who dies a childless man.
Wow! Did you write that, DAM? That's very profound.
No Gary, they are words from Michael R. Burch

I hardly bother much about citing the ownership of words, since I have no intention to financially profit from spreading them around as a way of reaching others that may or may not find useful, as you have done here. .
And you know what they say: “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery that mediocrity can pay to greatness.”
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