Poem & Quotes
- Thread starter Reiko
- Start date
indolent schizo
Member
I lost my sense of humor when that guy was talking outside my window when I was resting in my chair in 2010. I had just decided to turn my life around and was deep in thought when it occurred to me as he was talking that the world was getting revenge against me for disturbing its peace and quiet.
indolent schizo
Member
Trumpty Dumpty built a big wall. Trumpty Dumpty to criminal court was called. And all the republicans doing time in the pen' couldn't put Trumpty together again. What violence can you do to me to kill my sense of humor?
Lunar~Moon
New Member
****** Not a Poem ******
Poetry is a old art form not spoken or written anymore,
though we can see traces of this in turn of the century
composed forms.
Even today the poetry became darker then has ever been
yet we must realize what a poem is before we cast
our two cents worth upon it.
A Poem is a composed written work that describes ones
feelings or mood it is a short story of a interlude or
a collective thought describing the senses.
Making Poetry the most powerful stirring tool in the written language
But we need to use it more and more
you listen to a lot of poetry in many lyrics of song on the radio.
The sad part is that Poetry is all about us and still with us
maybe it is time to reflect and find
the poet in your influential life is a written work or song.
You be surprised what it is you will find
yet do not take my word for it am just a modest
Poet not like some of the greats.
*** The END ***
Poetry is a old art form not spoken or written anymore,
though we can see traces of this in turn of the century
composed forms.
Even today the poetry became darker then has ever been
yet we must realize what a poem is before we cast
our two cents worth upon it.
A Poem is a composed written work that describes ones
feelings or mood it is a short story of a interlude or
a collective thought describing the senses.
Making Poetry the most powerful stirring tool in the written language
But we need to use it more and more
you listen to a lot of poetry in many lyrics of song on the radio.
The sad part is that Poetry is all about us and still with us
maybe it is time to reflect and find
the poet in your influential life is a written work or song.
You be surprised what it is you will find
yet do not take my word for it am just a modest
Poet not like some of the greats.
*** The END ***
Bampot 2.0
Gold Member
Very nice!
Bampot 2.0
Gold Member
Trees
- Joyce Kilmer
1886 –
1918
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
(poem in public domain b4 copyright attacks)
Soapie
Gold Member
A different version/translation of the one I've had as a bio for awhile
I dreamt I was a butterfly.
I couldn't tell if I was dreaming.
But when I woke, I was I and not a butterfly.
Was I dreaming that I was the butterfly,
or was the butterfly dreaming that it was me?
Even if there's a difference between the butterfly and I,
the distinction isn't absolute.
And there is no relationship of cause and effect.
I dreamt I was a butterfly.
I couldn't tell if I was dreaming.
But when I woke, I was I and not a butterfly.
Was I dreaming that I was the butterfly,
or was the butterfly dreaming that it was me?
Even if there's a difference between the butterfly and I,
the distinction isn't absolute.
And there is no relationship of cause and effect.
Akira_
Active Member
Bampot 2.0
Gold Member
No You Can't Be A Mod - Chatmaster
Akira_
Active Member
A Psalm of Life
BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
What The Heart Of The Young Man Said To The Psalmist.
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,— act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW
What The Heart Of The Young Man Said To The Psalmist.
Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world’s broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,— act in the living Present!
Heart within, and God o’erhead!
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
ZombiUnicornis
Silver Member
Over and Over again.
Mistrust the different
Always fighting the current
Swimming to high seas
So many evil decrees
Neocons run the show
Nowhere to turn no where to go
Once again they bring wars
No justification for the cause
Sending our blood down the drain
Over and over again
Nothing changes nothing goes
Leaving us in death throws
So many blind
Led by the evil kind
Calls to awaken unheeded
Self destruction is seeded
Attack of the right and just
To them is a must
Social media run by the inane
Over and over and over again
So many tears I cry
Brought by those causing the fire
They try to justify
The destruction of those they crucify
Tearing at the heart
Putting the horse before the cart
Razor blades cut deep
Bringing wounds blood seep
Desires all lead to Cain
Over and over and over and over again
Won a gold medal for this one
Mistrust the different
Always fighting the current
Swimming to high seas
So many evil decrees
Neocons run the show
Nowhere to turn no where to go
Once again they bring wars
No justification for the cause
Sending our blood down the drain
Over and over again
Nothing changes nothing goes
Leaving us in death throws
So many blind
Led by the evil kind
Calls to awaken unheeded
Self destruction is seeded
Attack of the right and just
To them is a must
Social media run by the inane
Over and over and over again
So many tears I cry
Brought by those causing the fire
They try to justify
The destruction of those they crucify
Tearing at the heart
Putting the horse before the cart
Razor blades cut deep
Bringing wounds blood seep
Desires all lead to Cain
Over and over and over and over again
Won a gold medal for this one