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Friday Poetry Corner

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    Friday Poetry Corner

    The Closet

    They made me laugh
    They made me question
    They incited each other
    They remained in the closet
    Of their cyncism

    Why the strife
    Why no mention
    of the times they cried together
    They remain in the closet
    Of their fatalism

    Hope I brought
    Facts I presented
    Tolerance is the destination
    Brothers and sisters come out of the closet
    Peace and fun await you

    Thats why I fought
    Thats why I insisted
    On the unity of our nation
    What will come out of the closet
    That is still up to you

    Chico "in all embracing" mode
    Sola gratia

    Sola fide

    Soli Deo gloria

    #2
    Something mellow to start the day . . .

    O SOFT embalmer of the still midnight!
    Shutting with careful fingers and benign
    Our gloom-pleased eyes, embower'd from the light,
    Enshaded in forgetfulness divine;
    O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close,
    In midst of this thine hymn, my willing eyes,
    Or wait the amen, ere thy poppy throws
    Around my bed its lulling charities;
    Then save me, or the passèd day will shine
    Upon my pillow, breeding many woes;
    Save me from curious conscience, that still lords
    Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole;
    Turn the key deftly in the oilèd wards,
    And seal the hushèd casket of my soul

    J. Keats
    The vegetarian option.

    Comment


      #3
      Wallace Stevens - The Plot Against The Giant


      First Girl
      When this yokel comes maundering,
      Whetting his hacker,
      I shall run before him,
      Diffusing the civilest odors
      Out of geraniums and unsmelled flowers.
      It will check him.

      Second Girl
      I shall run before him,
      Arching cloths besprinkled with colors
      As small as fish-eggs.
      The threads
      Will abash him.

      Third Girl
      Oh, la...le pauvre!
      I shall run before him,
      With a curious puffing.
      He will bend his ear then.
      I shall whisper
      Heavenly labials in a world of gutturals.
      It will undo him.

      Comment


        #4
        First they came for the Jews
        and I did not speak out
        because I was not a Jew.
        Then they came for the Communists
        and I did not speak out
        because I was not a Communist.
        Then they came for the trade unionists
        and I did not speak out
        because I was not a trade unionist.
        Then they came for me
        and there was no one left
        to speak out for me.


        Pastor Martin Niemöller
        Insanity: repeating the same actions, but expecting different results.
        threadeds website, and here's my blog.

        Comment


          #5
          Originally posted by threaded
          First they came for the Jews
          and I did not speak out
          because I was not a Jew.
          Then they came for the Communists
          and I did not speak out
          because I was not a Communist.
          Then they came for the trade unionists
          and I did not speak out
          because I was not a trade unionist.
          Then they came for me
          and there was no one left
          to speak out for me.


          Pastor Martin Niemöller

          Deep - very deep
          Throw them to the lions - WC2 5.4

          Comment


            #6
            For Kate Moss and others

            My name is Cocaine


            My name is Cocaine - call me Coke for short.
            I entered this country without a passport.
            Ever since then I've made lots of scum rich.
            Some have been murdered and found in a ditch.
            I'm more valued than diamonds, more treasured than gold.
            Use me just once and you too will be sold.
            I'll make a schoolboy forget his books.
            I'll make a beauty queen forget her looks.
            I'll take renowned speaker and make a bore.
            I'll take a mother and make her a whore.
            I'll make a schoolteacher forget how to teach.
            I'll make a preacher not want to preach.
            I'll take all your rent money and you'll get evicted.
            I'll murder your babies or they'll be born addicted.
            I'll make you rob and steal and kill.
            When you're under my power you have no will.
            Remember my friend my name is " Big C ".
            If you try me just one time you may never be free.
            I've destroyed actors, politicians and many a hero.
            I've decreased bank accounts from millions to zero.
            I make shooting and stabbing a common affair.
            Once I take charge you won't have a prayer.
            Now that you know me what will you do ?
            You'll have to decide, It's all up to you.
            The day you agree to sit in my saddle.
            The decision is one that no one can straddle.
            Listen to me, and please listen well.
            When you ride with cocaine you are headed for hell !!!

            Anon
            Sola gratia

            Sola fide

            Soli Deo gloria

            Comment


              #7
              why can't we have a happy poem??

              You Asked For A Happy Poem



              Well, here it is. A happy poem.
              A poem with a dog, and a beach
              and a sunset, two people walking,
              the dishes are done, no hint
              of rain, there's money in the bank.
              Do you see them? The lovers
              polish the stars with their breath,
              rub sentences together, listen
              to the man in the moon.
              Did I tell you there is a moon?
              There are no wrinkles, no noses
              that get in the way, no sand
              that irritates delicate areas. No.
              The moon sprinkles away thoughts
              about the strangeness of bodies,
              about the brief delay in time
              where one misses the other's
              desire to be kissed, or the sudden
              intrusion of winter in the middle
              of a heat wave.



              (dunno who wrote this)

              Comment


                #8
                Not quite a happy poem, but a gay song. Well, why not seeing as Chico has just come out of "The Closet".

                The British Police are the best in the world
                I don't believe one of these stories I've heard
                'Bout them raiding our pubs for no reason at all
                Lining the customers up by the wall
                Picking out people and knocking them down
                Resisting arrest as they're kicked on the ground
                Searching their houses and calling them queer
                I don't believe that sort of thing happens here

                Sing if you're glad to be gay
                Sing if you're happy that way

                Pictures of naked young women are fun
                In Titbits and Playboy, page three of The Sun
                There's no nudes in Gay News our last magazine
                But they still find excuses to call it obscene
                Read how disgusting we are in the press
                The News of The World and the Sunday Express
                Molesters of children, corruptors of youth
                It's there in the paper, it must be the truth

                Sing if you're glad to be gay
                Sing if you're happy that way

                Don't try to kid us that if you're discreet
                You're perfectly safe as you walk down the street
                You don't have to mince or make bitchy remarks
                To get beaten unconscious and left in the dark
                I had a friend who was gentle and short
                Got lonely one evening and went for a walk
                Queerbashers caught him and kicked in his teeth
                He was only hospitalised for a week

                Sing if you're glad to be gay
                Sing if you're happy that way

                So sit back and watch as they close all our clubs
                Arrest us for meeting and raid all our pubs
                Make sure your boyfriend's at least 21
                So only your friends and your brothers get done
                Lie to your workmates, lie to your folks
                Put down the queens and tell anti-queer jokes
                Gay Lib's ridiculous, join their laughter
                'The buggers are legal now, what more are they after?'

                Sing if you're glad to be gay
                Sing if you're happy that way

                Comment


                  #9
                  September


                  We sit late, watching the dark slowly unfold:
                  No clock counts this.

                  When kisses are repeated and the arms hold
                  There is no telling where time is.

                  It is midsummer: the leaves hang big and still:
                  Behind the eye a star,

                  Under the silk of the wrist a sea, tell
                  Time is nowhere.

                  We stand; leaves have not timed the summer.
                  No clock now needs

                  Tell we have only what we remember:
                  Minutes uproaring with our heads

                  Like an unfortunate King's and his Queen's
                  When the senseless mob rules;

                  And quietly the trees casting their crowns
                  Into the pools.


                  Ted Hughes

                  Comment


                    #10
                    Perfection of a kind was what he was after
                    The poetry he invented was easy to understand
                    He knew Human folly like the back of his hand

                    When he laughed respectable senators burst with laughter
                    When he cried little children died in the streets

                    W. H. Auden

                    Comment

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