A Poem a day keeps the melancholy away

Deja Boo · 10-04-2022 2:58am

Alone by Edgar Allan Poe

From childhood's hour I have not been

As others were—I have not seen

As others saw—I could not bring

My passions from a common spring—

From the same source I have not taken

My sorrow—I could not awaken

My heart to joy at the same tone—

And all I lov'd—I lov'd alone—

Then—in my childhood—in the dawn

Of a most stormy life—was drawn

From ev'ry depth of good and ill

The mystery which binds me still—

From the torrent, or the fountain—

From the red cliff of the mountain—

From the sun that 'round me roll'd

In its autumn tint of gold—

From the lightning in the sky

As it pass'd me flying by—

From the thunder, and the storm—

And the cloud that took the form

(When the rest of Heaven was blue)

Of a demon in my view—

EmmetSpiceland · 01-09-2022 11:54am

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Lavinia · 05-09-2022 9:11pm

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Lavinia · 19-09-2022 8:22pm

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Hermy · 19-09-2022 11:13pm

Death The Leveller by James Shirley

The glories of our blood and state

Are shadows, not substantial things;

There is no armour against fate;

Death lays his icy hand on kings:

Sceptre and Crown

Must tumble down,

And in the dust be equal made

With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

Some men with swords may reap the field,

And plant fresh laurels where they kill:

But their strong nerves at last must yield;

They tame but one another still:

Early or late

They stoop to fate,

And must give up their murmuring breath

When they, pale captives, creep to death.

The garlands wither on your brow;

Then boast no more your mighty deeds;

Upon Death's purple altar now

See where the victor-victim bleeds:

Your heads must come

To the cold tomb;

Only the actions of the just

Smell sweet, and blossom in their dust.

Lavinia · 27-09-2022 8:12pm

Do not love half lovers

Do not entertain half friends

Do not live half a life

and do not die a half death

If you choose silence, then be silent

When you speak, do so until you are finished

Do not silence yourself to say something

And do not speak to be silent

If you accept, then express it bluntly

Do not mask it

If you refuse then be clear about it

for an ambiguous refusal is but a weak acceptance

Do not accept half a solution

Do not believe half truths

Do not dream half a dream

Do not fantasize about half hopes

Half the way will get you no where

Half an idea will bear you no results

Half a life is a life you didn't live,

A word you have not said

A smile you postponed

A love you have not had

A friendship you did not know

The half is a mere moment of inability

but you are able for you are not half a being

You are a whole that exists to live a life

not half a life.

~ Khalil Gibran

wreade1872 · 06-10-2022 2:19pm

Uncharted

There is a land those hereabout

Ignore... Its gates are barred

By Titan twins, named Fear and Doubt.

These mercifully guard

That land we seek -the land so faif!-

And all the fields thereof,

Where daffodils flaunt everywhere

And ouzels chant of love, -

Lest we attain the Middle-Land,

Whence clouded well-springs rise,

And vipers from a slimy strand

Lift glittering cold eyes.

NOW, THE PARABLE ALL MAY UNDERSTAND,

AND SURELY YOU KNOW THE NAME OF THE LAND!

AH, NEVER A GUIDE OR EVER A CHART

MAY SAFELY LEAD YOU ABOUT THIS LAND,-

THE LAND OF THE HUMAN HEART!

by James Branch Cabell (From the Hidden Way)

wreade1872 · 13-10-2022 12:24am

It Is Later Than You Think by ROBERT W. SERVICE (1953)

Lone amid the café’s cheer,

Sad of heart am I to-night;

Dolefully I drink my beer,

But no single line I write.

There’s the wretched rent to pay,

Yet I glower at pen and ink:

Oh, inspire me, Muse, I pray,

It is later than you think!

Hello! there’s a pregnant phrase.

Bravo! let me write it down;

Hold it with a hopeful gaze,

Gauge it with a fretful frown;

Tune it to my lyric lyre ...

Ah! upon starvation’s brink,

How the words are dark and dire:

It is later than you think.

Weigh them well .... Behold yon band,

Students drinking by the door,

Madly merry, bock in hand,

Saucers stacked to mark their score.

Get you gone, you jolly scamps;

Let your parting glasses clink;

Seek your long neglected lamps:

It is later than you think.

Look again: yon dainty blonde,

All allure and golden grace,

Oh so willing to respond

Should you turn a smiling face.

Play your part, poor pretty doll;

Feast and frolic, pose and prink;

There’s the Morgue to end it all,

And it’s later than you think.

Yon’s a playwright — mark his face,

Puffed and purple, tense and tired;

Pasha-like he holds his place,

Hated, envied and admired.

How you gobble life, my friend;

Wine, and woman soft and pink!

Well, each tether has its end:

Sir, it’s later than you think.

See yon living scarecrow pass

With a wild and wolfish stare

At each empty absinthe glass,

As if he saw Heaven there.

Poor damned wretch, to end your pain

There is still the Greater Drink.

Yonder waits the sanguine Seine ...

It is later than you think.

Lastly, you who read; aye, you

Who this very line may scan:

Think of all you planned to do ...

Have you done the best you can?

See! the tavern lights are low;

Black’s the night, and how you shrink!

God! and is it time to go?

Ah! the clock is always slow;

It is later than you think;

Sadly later than you think;

Far, far later than you think.

New Home · 02-01-2023 11:24pm

"Be humble because you're made of earth. Be noble, for you are made of stars."

--Serbian proverb

Deja Boo · 19-01-2023 12:23am

“Time does not bring relief; you all have lied” by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied

Who told me time would ease me of my pain!

I miss him in the weeping of the rain;

I want him at the shrinking of the tide;

The old snows melt from every mountain-side,

And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;

But last year’s bitter loving must remain

Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.

There are a hundred places where I fear

To go,—so with his memory they brim.

And entering with relief some quiet place

Where never fell his foot or shone his face

I say, “There is no memory of him here!”

And so stand stricken, so remembering him.

Lavinia · 29-01-2023 6:35pm

Nirvana

not much chance,

completely cut loose from

purpose,

he was a young man

riding a bus

through North Carolina

on the way to somewhere

and it began to snow

and the bus stopped

at a little cafe

in the hills

and the passengers

entered.

he sat at the counter

with the others,

he ordered and the

food arrived.

the meal was

particularly

good

and the

coffee.

the waitress was

unlike the women

he had

known.

she was unaffected,

there was a natural

humor which came

from her.

the fry cook said

crazy things.

the dishwasher.

in back,

laughed, a good

clean

pleasant

laugh.

the young man watched

the snow through the

windows.

he wanted to stay

in that cafe

forever.

the curious feeling

swam through him

that everything

was

beautiful

there,

that it would always

stay beautiful

there.

then the bus driver

told the passengers

that it was time

to board.

the young man

thought, I'll just sit

here, I'll just stay

here.

but then

he rose and followed

the others into the

bus.

he found his seat

and looked at the cafe

through the bus

window.

then the bus moved

off, down a curve,

downward, out of

the hills.

the young man

looked straight

forward.

he heard the other

passengers

speaking

of other things,

or they were

reading

or

attempting to

sleep.

they had not

noticed

the

magic.

the young man

put his head to

one side,

closed his

eyes,

pretended to

sleep.

there was nothing

else to do-

just to listen to the

sound of the

engine,

the sound of the

tires

in the

snow.

~Charles Bukowski~

Hermy · 29-01-2023 10:25pm

That’s brilliant Lavinia - thanks for sharing.

Lavinia · 04-02-2023 3:16pm

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Hermy · 15-04-2023 8:21am

On the Death of a Cat by Christina Georgina Rossetti

[For Binky who died on Thursday]

Who shall tell the lady's grief

When her Cat was past relief?

Who shall number the hot tears

Shed o'er her, beloved for years?

Who shall say the dark dismay

Which her dying caused that day?

Come, ye Muses, one and all,

Come obedient to my call.

Come and mourn, with tuneful breath,

Each one for a separate death;

And while you in numbers sigh,

I will sing her elegy.

Of a noble race she came,

And Grimalkin was her name.

Young and old full many a mouse

Felt the prowess of her house:

Weak and strong full many a rat

Cowered beneath her crushing pat:

And the birds around the place

Shrank from her too close embrace.

But one night, reft of her strength,

She laid down and died at length:

Lay a kitten by her side,

In whose life the mother died.

Spare her line and lineage,

Guard her kitten's tender age,

And that kitten's name as wide

Shall be known as her's that died.

And whoever passes by

The poor grave where Puss doth lie,

Softly, softly let him tread,

Nor disturb her narrow bed.

Lavinia · 18-08-2023 8:40am

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New Home · 15-09-2023 12:58pm

A bit early, but I was never going to be able to find it again.

growleaves · 28-09-2023 11:25pm

Idiom of the Hero by Wallace Stevens

I heard two workers say, "This chaos
Will soon be ended."

This chaos will not be ended,
The red and the blue house blended,

Not ended, never and never ended,
The weak man mended,

The man that is poor at night
Attended

Like the man that is rich and right.
The great men will not be blended...

I am the poorest of all.
I know that I can not be mended,

Out of the clouds, pomp of the air,
By which at least I am befriended.

Lavinia · 10-10-2023 7:47pm

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Deja Boo · 13-10-2023 11:50pm

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justdavidalone · 17-10-2023 2:41am

https://www.boards.ie/discussion/comment/119672886#Comment_119672886

God! I love this. This is the kind of words you need. I'm in doubt to do something but I know I deserve better.

justdavidalone · 17-10-2023 2:42am

https://www.boards.ie/discussion/comment/121220200#Comment_121220200

There's a beauty between love and death. Both are the things that are only sure in this lifetime.

Lavinia · 20-10-2023 6:55am

And if I pray, the only prayer

That moves my lips for me

Is—"Leave the heart that now I bear,

And give me liberty."

Emily Bronte (1818-1848)

Hermy · 28-10-2023 12:22pm

After finishing Music on Clinton Street by Pat McCabe I Googled Famous Blue Raincoat, one of my favourite songs from one of my favourite albums, hoping to find some insight into why McCabe referenced it in his book. I didn't find what I was looking for but I did find this quote from Cohen. It's not a poem but I think it's incredibly poetic.

I had a good raincoat then, a Burberry I got in London in 1959. Elizabeth thought I looked like a spider in it. That was probably why she wouldn't go to Greece with me. It hung more heroically when I took out the lining, and achieved glory when the frayed sleeves were repaired with a little leather. Things were clear. I knew how to dress in those days. It was stolen from Marianne's loft in New York City sometime during the early seventies. I wasn't wearing it very much toward the end.

Lavinia · 18-11-2023 5:05pm

"After a while you learn the subtle difference between

holding a hand and chaining a soul.

And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning and

that company doesn’t mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts

and presents aren’t promises.

And you begin to accept your defeats with your head up

and your eyes open and with the grace of an adult not the grief of a child.

And you learn to build all your roads on today

because tomorrow`s ground is too uncertain for your plans.

After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much.

So plant your own garden and decorate your own soul

Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you will learn that you can endure that you really are special

and that you really do have worth.

So live to learn and know yourself.

In doing so, you will learn to live."

Mario Quintana

(from beautiful Joü)

Quiet Achiever · 09-02-2024 12:33am

Trees

BY JOYCE KILMER

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.

Religious or not (I'm not), the last line is gorgeous.

RockOrBog · 09-02-2024 1:08am

The Donkey

BY G K Chesterton

When fishes flew and forests walked

And figs grew upon thorn,

Some moment when the moon was blood

Then surely I was born.

With monstrous head and sickening cry

And ears like errant wings,

The devil’s walking parody

On all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,

Of ancient crooked will;

Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,

I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;

One far fierce hour and sweet:

There was a shout about my ears,

And palms before my feet.

RockOrBog · 11-02-2024 6:27pm

A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky

BY Lewis Carroll

A boat beneath a sunny sky,

Lingering onward dreamily

In an evening of July —

Children three that nestle near,

Eager eye and willing ear,

Pleased a simple tale to hear —

Long has paled that sunny sky:

Echoes fade and memories die:

Autumn frosts have slain July.

Still she haunts me, phantomwise,

Alice moving under skies

Never seen by waking eyes.

Children yet, the tale to hear,

Eager eye and willing ear,

Lovingly shall nestle near.

In a Wonderland they lie,

Dreaming as the days go by,

Dreaming as the summers die:

Ever drifting down the stream —

Lingering in the golden gleam —

Life, what is it but a dream?

Rabbit Redux · 12-02-2024 1:53am

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Deja Boo · 12-02-2024 9:26am

https://www.boards.ie/discussion/comment/121742884#Comment_121742884

The first poem I ever memorized :D for school. Thanks for the memory.

Rabbit Redux · 14-03-2024 12:43am

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A Poem a day keeps the melancholy away

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