wonderful poetry there Billy Bud...
things happen too fast here sometimes
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I love good poetry...like Sylvia PLath eg
Jun 7, 2016
0
#487
gerberk wrote:
I love good poetry...like Sylvia PLath eg
This is philip levine. He worked in the Detroit motor companies
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A3dG1Ewr9XI
They Feed They Lion by Philip Levine
Great poem...
Jun 7, 2016
0
#489
la Belle Dame sans merci? It was in my brother's book too ;-)
billyblatt wrote:
bunicula wrote:
Read??? Please don't spam this most important thread.
O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, Alone and palely loitering?
Rimbaud Arthur...
Poetry is food for the soul...
pdela is the most liked Spaniard on the site... :_(
John Keats La belle dame sans merci
I are a guru of sex.
pdela>>>>>>>>>MSC157
O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel’s granary is full,
And the harvest’s done.
I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever-dew,
And on thy cheeks a fading rose
Fast withereth too.
I met a lady in the meads,
Full beautiful—a faery’s child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.
I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She looked at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan
I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long,
For sidelong would she bend, and sing
A faery’s song.
She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna-dew,
And sure in language strange she said—
‘I love thee true’.
She took me to her Elfin grot,
And there she wept and sighed full sore,
And there I shut her wild wild eyes
With kisses four.
And there she lullèd me asleep,
And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!—
The latest dream I ever dreamt
On the cold hill side.
I saw pale kings and princes too,
Pale warriors, death-pale were they all;
They cried—‘La Belle Dame sans Merci
Thee hath in thrall!’
I saw their starved lips in the gloam,
With horrid warning gapèd wide,
And I awoke and found me here,
On the cold hill’s side.
And this is why I sojourn here,
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.
Notes:
POL participants and judges: in this poem's third-to-last stanza, recitations that include “Hath thee in thrall!” or “Thee hath in thrall!” are both acceptable.
POL participants and judges: in this poem's third-to-last stanza, recitations that include “Hath thee in thrall!” or “Thee hath in thrall!” are both acceptable.
Source: Selected Poems (Penguin Classics, 1988)
pdela>>>>>>>>>>>>>>John Keats.
Jun 7, 2016
0
#498
with an unfinished *hand*book ;-)
Pulpofeira wrote:
I are a guru of sex.
I spent two years of my life on poetry classes...a good investment...
Baudelaire Charles.