Beautiful poetry

[CJ]

"Snowflakes"

Lying in the winter Sun, keeps me warm throughout the day.
But the nights are so cold and lonely, as your 3000 miles away.
Thoughts of you lying there alone, Oh they cause my heart to break.
But, My Love, in this cold I don't cry tears. Oh, no, I weep snowflakes.

I picture you there in front of me, as the Sun beats on my face.
When I'm lying there in your arms, I know there is no warmer place.
The more I think about your touch, the more my body seems to ache.
My Love, how I need your hugs to help melt my snowflakes.

Bells ringing, Carol singing: gifts around the Christmas tree.
The fairy lights, the stars at night span the miles between you and me.
Snowflakes fall around the world, as we celebrate Christmas Eve.
Reminding us that no matter how far apart, how close we will always be.

[Captain Fantastic]

I've just been reading the "Beautiful poetry" Thread: I can't post there for some reason so I'll post one here and if some one would be kind enough to forward it onto the tread I would be grateful.

When my girlfriend gave this to me I was studying at English literature at collage. It was better than anything I was studying and I was stunned. It’s by Wh Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

[Captain Fantastic]

Just for this morning, I am going to smile when I see your face and
laugh...
...except one more day.............

THIS WAS WRITTEN BY A FATHER WHO HAD JUST FOUND OUT THAT HIS 10 YEAR OLD DAUGHTER HAD CANCER.

First of all wow. What a loving poem. However this was not written by a father of a girl with cancer, but by Sally Meyer, about her son Dhylan who has autism
http://www.hoax-slayer.com/rachel-ar...rity-hoax.html
http://trainland.tripod.com/poems4.htm
There are four pages of her poem on this site. I’d recommend “White Picket Fences and other myths”.

[Winnie]

THE MAGIC BOX, by Kit Wright

I will put in the box
the swish of a silk sari on a summer night,
fire from the nostrils of a Chinese dragon,
the tip of a tongue touching a tooth.

I will put in the box
a snowman with a rumbling belly
a sip of the bluest water from Lake Lucerene,
a leaping spark from an electric fish.

I will put into the box
three violet wishes spoken in Gujarati,
the last joke of an ancient uncle,
and the first smile of a baby.

I will put into the box
a fifth season and a black sun,
a cowboy on a broomstick
and a witch on a white horse.

My box is fashioned from ice and gold and steel,
with stars on the lid and secrets in the corners.
Its hinges are the toe joints of dinosaurs.

I shall surf in my box
on the great high-rolling breakers of the wild Atlantic,
then wash ashore on a yellow beach
the colour of the sun.

[DianaS]

NG leads OK

There once was a girlie called Linda
Who danced with her best friend Diana
They drank too much gin
and went into a spin
and now they have onhello of a hangover

Bom! Bomm!!

[Isis]

Invictus William Ernest Henley

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 bludgeoning 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.

[Isis]

Man's Testament - Adam Lindsay Gordon

Life is mostly froth and bubble,
Two things stand like stone,
Kindness in another's trouble,
Courage in your own.

Ye Wearie Wayfarer - Kingsley Amis

Life is largely grief and labour
Two things help you through:
Jeering when they hit your neighbour,
Whining when it's you.

[Terpsichorea]

The Teasers

Not but they die, the teasers and the dreams,
Not but they die,
and tell the careful flood
To give them what they clamour for and why.

You could not fancy where they rip to blood
You could not fancy
nor that mud
I have heard speak that will not cake or dry.

Our claims to act appear so small to these
Our claims to act
colder lunacies
That cheat the love, the moment, the small fact.

Make no escape because they flash and die,
Make no escape
build up your love,
Leave what you die for and be safe to die.

[Sheepman]

This doesn't describe something I've ever felt, and beautiful? You can make your own mind up there, but I'm sure someone out there will like it.
Greg

Advice to a Discarded Lover... by Fleur Adcock

Think, now: if you have found a dead bird,
not only dead, not only fallen,
but full of maggots: what do you feel -
more pity or more revulsion?

Pity is for the moment of death,
and the moments after. It changes
when decay comes, with the creeping stench
and the wriggling, munching scavengers.

Returning later, though, you will see
a shape of clean bone, a few feathers,
an inoffensive symbol of what
once lived. Nothing to make you shudder.

It is clear then. But perhaps you find
the analogy I have chosen
for our dead affair rather gruesome -
too unpleasant a comparison.

It is not accidental. In you
I see maggots close to the surface.
You are eaten up by self-pity,
crawling with unlovable pathos.

If I were to touch you I should feel
against my fingers fat, moist worm-skin.
Do not ask me for charity now:
go away until your bones are clean

[Sheepman]

And a couple more

The house is not the same since you left
the cooker is angry - it blames me
THe TV tries desperately to stay busy
but occasionally I catch it staring out of the window
The washing-up's feeling sorry for itself again
it just sits there saying
'What's the point, what's the point?'
The curtains count the days
Nothing in the house will talk to me
I think your armchair's dead
The kettle tried to comfort me at first
but you know what its attention span is like
I've not told the plants yet
they think you're still on holiday
The bathroom misses you
I hardly see it these days
It still can't believe you didn't take it with you
The bedroom won't even look at me
since you left it it keeps its eyes closed
all it wants to do is sleep, remembering better times
trying to lose itself in dreams
it seems like it's taken the easy way out
but at night I hear the pillows
weeping into the sheets.

Henry Normal


Vinegar by Roger McGough


sometimes

i feel like a priest

in a fish & chip queue

quietly thinking

as the vinegar runs through

how nice it would be

to buy supper for two

[rubyred]

Still I rise by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may throd me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like the moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from the past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise