Poems

[makarios68]

The Second Coming by WB Yeats:

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?

Written just after WW1, this is Yeats' apocolyptic vision of the future, based on his horror at the scale of death and destruction from the world's first 'technological' war.

He has a dim view of mankind's ability to keep a reign on advancing technology ("the falcon cannot hear the falconer").

The shape with "lion body and the head of a man" is the Sphinx, who in mythology slumbered for 2000 years, suffering constant nightmares (meant to symbolise 2000 years of man's blood-stained reign on the world).

It is considered by many to be the finest poem of the 20th century. Without any direct reference to scenes of horror, this is for me one of the scariest things i've ever read.

For Yeats, the Second Coming is not the saviour of mankind; but the opposite.

[Angel_de_Combate]

Hmmm scary...ive read some more of his poetry...there all very dark imo..however i did come across this one

Originally Posted by WB Yeats

Youth and Age

Much did I rage when young,
Being by the world oppressed,
But now with flattering tongue
It speeds the parting guest.

Originally Posted by William Shakespeare

Sonnet 45

The other two, slight air and purging fire,
Are both with thee, wherever I abide;
The first my thought, the other my desire,
These present-absent with swift motion slide.
For when these quicker elements are gone
In tender embassy of love to thee,
My life, being made of four, with two alone
Sinks down to death, oppress'd with melancholy;
Until life's composition be recured
By those swift messengers return'd from thee,
Who even but now come back again, assured
Of thy fair health, recounting it to me:
This told, I joy; but then no longer glad,
I send them back again and straight grow sad.

William makes me smile with the way he uses words..my fav line "The first my thought, the other my desire,These present-absent with swift motion slide."

[Static_Fang]

Originally Posted by Static_Fang

Death From Above: 1- Home Pride

As the enemies ran and charged,
We let out a mighty roar.
What stunned us the most is the fact,
That they came running back for more.

The enemy were swift and agile,
My men flew upwards to the sky.
The enemy stopped and stared,
As they were all about to die.

We dropped down into their mist,
Landed with such grace,
We blazed out weapons wildly,
I punched one in the face.

We had won the fray,
They all ran from our base.
I recieved the order,
For my men to give them chase.

We tracked the damn dogs down,
They cowered infront of us.
I bolstered my pistol,
To end their bloody lust.

One by one they fell,
Swallowed in their shame.
By the end of the day,
All at home was same.

We had won the war,
My friends and fam were safe.
But i could not shake the feeling,
We were now the ones being chased...

Can anyone else see this being sung to a WB 'looney-tunes' style?

[Angel_de_Combate]

Originally Posted by Rudyard Kipling

If..

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

<smiles> never read the whole poem..i just remembered the last line..

[Angel_de_Combate]

Originally Posted by Emily Bronte

Stars

Ah! why, because the dazzling sun
Restored our Earth to joy,
Have you departed, every one,
And left a desert sky?

All through the night, your glorious eyes
Were gazing down in mine,
And, with a full heart's thankful sighs,
I blessed that watch divine.

I was at peace, and drank your beams
As they were life to me;
And revelled in my changeful dreams,
Like petrel on the sea.

Thought followed thought, star followed star,
Through boundless regions, on;
While one sweet influence, near and far,
Thrilled through, and proved us one!

Why did the morning dawn to break
So great, so pure, a spell;
And scorch with fire the tranquil cheek,
Where your cool radiance fell?

Blood-red, he rose, and, arrow-straight,
His fierce beams struck my brow;
The soul of nature sprang, elate,
But mine sank sad and low!

My lids closed down, yet through their veil
I saw him, blazing, still,
And steep in gold the misty dale,
And flash upon the hill.

I turned me to the pillow, then,
To call back night, and see
Your worlds of solemn light, again,
Throb with my heart, and me!

It would not do--the pillow glowed,
And glowed both roof and floor;
And birds sang loudly in the wood,
And fresh winds shook the door;

The curtains waved, the wakened flies
Were murmuring round my room,
Imprisoned there, till I should rise,
And give them leave to roam.

Oh, stars, and dreams, and gentle night;
Oh, night and stars, return!
And hide me from the hostile light
That does not warm, but burn;

That drains the blood of suffering men;
Drinks tears, instead of dew;
Let me sleep through his blinding reign,
And only wake with you!

Beautiful....

[tyrotyro]

Hey em im back :P

[Angel_de_Combate]

Originally Posted by Tyro1

Hey em im back :P

Hey Zik, im not :P

[sociopath]

Homeless poem

Holes in your shirt

Holes in your shoe

You were a buttler

Now look at you



Lol i dunno, i pulled it right out of my head immediately..

[Angel_de_Combate]

SUCCESS is counted sweetest
By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.

Not one of all the purple host
Who took the flag to-day
Can tell the definition,
So clear, of victory,

As he, defeated, dying,
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Break, agonized and clear.

Emily Dickinson.

[Syd_Vicious]

Life dreamt of me
While I dreamt of a lie
fouled sparks convalute my machinations
while rigid spikes envelope my senses

sadistic choirs quell my undulations
insipid rattling fuels my fire
tranquil pains waken my creation
lucid dreams are now the reality

the dead are the living
and I am Frankenstein

Kind of like my tribute to Mary Shelley