• Jun 22, 2020

    Apologies if this is more of a creative-type thread, but just wanna show some love to Li-Young Lee. I’m really not into poetry like that as much as prose, but that mf is inspirational

  • Jul 13, 2020

    We shall not cease from exploration
    And the end of all our exploring
    Will be to arrive where we started
    And know the place for the first time.

    Through the unknown, unremembered gate
    When the last of earth left to discover
    Is that which was the beginning;
    At the source of the longest river
    The voice of the hidden waterfall
    And the children in the apple-tree

    Not known, because not looked for
    But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
    Between two waves of the sea.
    Quick now, here, now, always--
    A condition of complete simplicity
    (Costing not less than everything)
    And all shall be well and
    All manner of thing shall be well
    When the tongues of flames are in-folded
    Into the crowned knot of fire
    And the fire and the rose are one.

    -T. S. Eliot
    Little Gidding, The Four Quartets

  • Jul 13, 2020
    1 reply

    Out beyond ideas of right
    and wrong there is a field.
    I'll meet you there.

    When the soul lies down in that grass
    the world is too full to talk about.

    ― Rumi

  • Jul 13, 2020

    We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn.
    A red wing rose in the darkness.

    And suddenly a hare ran across the road.
    One of us pointed to it with his hand.

    That was long ago. Today neither of them is alive,
    Not the hare, nor the man who made the gesture.

    O my love, where are they, where are they going
    The flash of a hand, streak of movement, rustle of pebbles.
    I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder.

    • Czeslaw Milos, 1936
  • Jul 13, 2020

    And the days are not full enough
    And the nights are not full enough
    And life slips by like a field mouse
    Not shaking the grass.

    • Ezra Pound
  • Slam... poetry. YELLING! Angry???? WAVING MY HANDS A LOT! Specific point of view on things! Cynthia! Cyn-thi-a! Jesus died for our sin-thi-as! Jesus cried, runaway bride. Julia Roberts! Julia Rob-hurts????! Cynthia! Mmmmmmmm, Cynthia. You're dead. You are dead, bop boop beep bop bop boop bop. You're dead. That's for Cynthia... who's dead.

    -Jonah Hill

  • Jul 18, 2020
    1 reply
    Very Based

    Out beyond ideas of right
    and wrong there is a field.
    I'll meet you there.

    When the soul lies down in that grass
    the world is too full to talk about.

    ― Rumi

    I first heard this rumi quote in a song

  • Jul 18, 2020
    1 reply

    I first heard this rumi quote in a song

    The Voidz?

  • Jul 18, 2020
    Very Based

    The Voidz?


  • Jul 18, 2020

    2 pages in and no mention of Noah Sammak??? I guess this isnt a real poetry thread then? Uncultured swines.

  • Jul 20, 2020

    Here's a classic Yeats Everyone knows this one but worth posting anyway. Very similar themes as The Wasteland here. post-first world war modernist poetry >>>

    Turning and turning in the widening gyre
    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
    The best lack all conviction, while the worst
    Are full of passionate intensity.

    Surely some revelation is at hand;
    Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
    The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
    When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
    Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
    A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
    A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
    Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
    Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
    The darkness drops again; but now I know
    That twenty centuries of stony sleep
    Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
    Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

  • Jul 21, 2020

    just here to name drop a QUEEN!

    Elizabeth Bishop

  • Jul 23, 2020
    2 replies

    Any poetry books to check out?

  • Jul 24, 2020
    Blunt Monkey

    Any poetry books to check out?

    You get so alone at times that it just makes sense by bukowski

  • Jul 25, 2020

    You said:

    “I’ll go to another country, go to another shore,
    find another city better than this one.
    Whatever I try to do is fated to turn out wrong
    and my heart lies buried like something dead.
    How long can I let my mind moulder in this place?
    Wherever I turn, wherever I look,
    I see the black ruins of my life, here,
    where I’ve spent so many years, wasted them, destroyed them totally.”

    You won’t find a new country, won’t find another shore.
    This city will always pursue you.
    You’ll walk the same streets, grow old
    in the same neighborhoods, turn gray in these same houses.
    You’ll always end up in this city. Don’t hope for things elsewhere:
    there’s no ship for you, there’s no road.
    Now that you’ve wasted your life here, in this small corner,
    you’ve destroyed it everywhere in the world.

    The City, C.P. Cavafy

  • Aug 13, 2020

    My Life has only just begun

    My Life is only 1 of 1

    My Life is lonely but it's Fun

    No reason for the Loaded gun...

  • Oct 7, 2020

    When I consider how my light is spent
    Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
    And that one talent which is death to hide
    Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent
    To serve therewith my Maker, and present
    My true account, lest he returning chide,
    "Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
    I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
    That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need
    Either man's work or his own gifts: who best
    Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
    Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
    And post o'er land and ocean without rest:
    They also serve who only stand and wait."

  • Oct 15, 2020

    Psalms 132:14

    Here I stand before my Lord
    Here I bow before my King
    Here I pray to my God
    Here I thank my Creator

    All Praises To The Most High
    Yahawah (The Eternal One)
    Who sits on His Cherubim’s
    Established His Covenant with Jacob

  • Oct 18, 2020

    Poetry is death cast out

    Poetry is death cast out
    though it gives one chance to retaliate,
    Death takes it but the poem moves
    a little further beyond death's gate,

    and I know the proof of this. Once walking
    amongst bushes and lizard stones I found
    a little further than I had thought
    to go, a stream with a singing sound.

    Sydney Clouts

  • Oct 19, 2020


    I got out of bed
    on two strong legs.
    It might have been
    otherwise. I ate
    cereal, sweet
    milk, ripe, flawless
    peach. It might
    have been otherwise.
    I took the dog uphill
    to the birch wood.
    All morning I did
    the work I love.

    At noon I lay down
    with my mate. It might
    have been otherwise.
    We ate dinner together
    at a table with silver
    candlesticks. It might
    have been otherwise.
    I slept in a bed
    in a room with paintings
    on the walls, and
    planned another day
    just like this day.
    But one day, I know,
    it will be otherwise.

    —Jane Kenyon

  • Oct 20, 2020

    I’ve memorized all the fish in the sea
    I’ve memorized each opportunity strangled
    I remember awakening one morning
    and finding everything smeared with the color of
    forgotten love
    and I’ve memorized
    that too.

    I’ve memorized green rooms in
    St. Louis and New Orleans
    where I wept because I knew that by myself I
    could not overcome
    the terror of them and it.

    I’ve memorized all the unfaithful years
    (and the faithful ones too)
    I’ve memorized each cigarette that I’ve rolled.
    I’ve memorized Beethoven and New York City
    I’ve memorized
    riding up escalators, I’ve memorized
    Chicago and cottage cheese, and the mouths of
    some of the ladies and the legs of
    some of the ladies
    I’ve known
    and the way the rain came down hard.
    I’ve memorized the face of my father in his coffin,
    I’ve memorized all the cars I have driven
    and each of their sad deaths,
    I’ve memorized each jail cell,
    the face of each new president
    and the faces of some of the assassins;
    I’ve even memorized the arguments I’ve had with
    some of the women
    I’ve loved.

    best of all
    I’ve memorized tonight and now and the way the
    light falls across my fingers,
    specks and smears on the wall,
    shades down behind orange curtains;
    I light a rolled cigarette and then laugh a little,
    yes, I’ve memorized it all.

    the courage of my memory.


  • Oct 29, 2020


    -created using swipe keyboard on my iPhone