10-05-2003 01:42									#1
	Poems you can relate to Support Apolyton, buy Galactic Civilizations

Not to be too soft or nothing but how about a thread about poems written by others that you're feeling?

this one is by a man named Jamal Holmes found in the "Poetry for the People" anthology we had to read in 10th grade. I usually hate these non-rhyming poems but still... i think i can relate to this one.

I am the neo-hoodlum intellectual
That alarms you so
The one just above the tides of poverty but
Just below the sands of the middle class

I study while I thieve from you and yours
I break into your stuff
reciting shakespeare and quoting socrates

educated in your institutions of granite pillars
and his story and little white lies
but also educated
in my institutions of chain-link fences
and my story and the black and white

the best and the worst
of two worlds colliding
creating me: the neo-hoodlum
intellectual

the man in Black with the briefcase
and intellectual glasses
that creeps around stealing
your forbes and newsweeks and your wall street journals

My accomplices and I
sit around the local liquor store
listening to chopin as we plot our next crime
after debating marxism with my brothers on the corner
I slide into the classroom and
debate the poetic value of tennyson

I steal and read and write and rob

I am the intellectual that charms you into leaving
your gates unlocked
then I become that hoodlum
that loots the place
and leaves
you wondering
clueless


thanks

Last edited by Albert Speer on 10-05-2003 at 02:03

	10-05-2003 01:47									#2
	Re: Poems you can relate to Support Apolyton, buy Civilization 2

quote: Originally posted by Albert Speer Not to be gay or nothing

Here's one that's just beautiful:

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame by Gerard Manley Hopkins (1882)

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
    As tumbled over rim and roundy wells
    Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell's
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
    Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
    Selves- goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying What I do is me: for that I came.

I say more: the just man justices;
   Keeps gráce: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is--
   Chríst. For Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
   To the Father through the features of men's faces.

	10-05-2003 01:53									#3
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quote: Originally posted by Albert Speer Not to be gay or nothing...

Start another thread like that and you won't be posting anything for a while...

	10-05-2003 01:56									#4
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As a pink flash the leotard leopard charges across the pinkily flashing plains.
lo! Cherish it like you would cherish
an exclamation mark appearing in the midst of a pretentious poem
which would have been crappy prose if it hadn't been
chopped up all poetylike.
I weep
Holding that which I dare not belong towards
or something
also holding an umbrella
lighting a cigarette
twirling a coin across my palm, up and down, up and down, like a merryweather applejack
Drinking the wine of love, freedom and justice for the poor oppressed peasants in Guatemala
or possibly Israel, these days
And finding something to do for my poetically licensed fifth arm, too
I weep and lo! doth the poem end agogogogogo... gonizingly.

-- BY A DARK MYSTERIOUS STRANGER

	10-05-2003 01:57									#5
	Re: Poems you can relate to Support Apolyton, pre-order Civilization IV

quote: Originally posted by Albert Speer Not to be gay or nothing but how about a thread about poems written by others that you're feeling? this one is by a man named Jamal Holmes found in the "Poetry for the People" anthology we had to read in 10th grade. I usually hate these non-rhyming poems but still... i think i can relate to this one. I am the neo-hoodlum intellectual That alarms you so The one just above the tides of poverty but Just below the sands of the middle class I study while I thieve from you and yours I break into your stuff reciting shakespeare and quoting socrates educated in your institutions of granite pillars and his story and little white lies but also educated in my institutions of chain-link fences and my story and the black and white the best and the worst of two worlds colliding creating me: the neo-hoodlum intellectual the man in Black with the briefcase and intellectual glasses that creeps around stealing your forbes and newsweeks and your wall street journals My accomplices and I sit around the local liquor store listening to chopin as we plot our next crime after debating marxism with my brothers on the corner I slide into the classroom and debate the poetic value of tennyson I steal and read and write and rob I am the intellectual that charms you into leaving your gates unlocked then I become that hoodlum that loots the place and leaves you wondering clueless thanks

	10-05-2003 01:59									#6
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Well, won't be participating in this thread.

	10-05-2003 02:00									#7
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My favourite poem by my favourite modern poet:

Why I am not a painter by Frank O'Hara

I am not a painter, I am a poet.
Why? I think I would rather be
a painter, but I am not. Well,

for instance, Mike Goldberg
is starting a painting. I drop in.
"Sit down and have a drink" he
says. I drink; we drink. I look
up. "You have SARDINES in it."
"Yes, it needed something there."
"Oh." I go and the days go by
and I drop in again. The painting
is going on, and I go, and the days
go by. I drop in. The painting is
finished. "Where's SARDINES?"
All that's left is just
letters, "It was too much," Mike says.

But me? One day I am thinking of
a color: orange. I write a line
about orange. Pretty soon it is a
whole page of words, not lines.
Then another page. There should be
so much more, not of orange, of
words, of how terrible orange is
and life. Days go by. It is even in
prose, I am a real poet. My poem
is finished and I haven't mentioned
orange yet. It's twelve poems, I call
it ORANGES. And one day in a gallery
I see Mike's painting, called SARDINES.

	10-05-2003 02:02									#8
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Stefu:

I agree... i think poetry today is pretentious garbage by fake intellectuals who basically tell abstract stories masqueraded as poems. that one i posted was a very rare one that i even remotely liked but i still think it needs to rhyme and have structure...


Ming:

what did i do? you know what i meant... the colloquial meaning of gay

	10-05-2003 02:04									#9
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quote: Originally posted by Albert Speer what did i do? you know what i meant... the colloquial meaning of gay

Then I'm sure when a restriction does come your way, you will probably be surprised by it.

	10-05-2003 02:06									#10
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quote: Originally posted by Albert Speer i think poetry today is pretentious garbage by fake intellectuals who basically tell abstract stories masqueraded as poems.

Yep, that's a pretty good description of the one you posted.

	10-05-2003 02:07									#11
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i've always been surprised everytime i've been banned... i dont understand... people know what i meant... it's a word with multiple meanings... the word thread can mean a series of posts on a forum like this or the string people sew with...

	10-05-2003 02:08									#12
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Frustrated:

Alright damn... i didnt like it THAT much... i just wanted an excuse to see what kind of poems people liked... damn...

	10-05-2003 02:08									#13
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quote: Originally posted by Boris Godunov Well, won't be participating in this thread.

You just did.

	10-05-2003 02:13									#14
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Okey dokey ... more poetry and less arguing!

Go with it Albert, let's see what you like.



Here's another one of my favourites. An old one this time.

"The Sun Rising" by John Donne

BUSY old fool, unruly Sun,
        Why dost thou thus,
Through windows, and through curtains, call on us ?
Must to thy motions lovers' seasons run ?
        Saucy pedantic wretch, go chide
        Late school-boys and sour prentices,
    Go tell court-huntsmen that the king will ride,
    Call country ants to harvest offices ;
Love, all alike, no season knows nor clime,
Nor hours, days, months, which are the rags of time.

        Thy beams so reverend, and strong
        Why shouldst thou think ?
I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink,
But that I would not lose her sight so long.
        If her eyes have not blinded thine,
        Look, and to-morrow late tell me,
    Whether both th' Indias of spice and mine
    Be where thou left'st them, or lie here with me.
Ask for those kings whom thou saw'st yesterday,
And thou shalt hear, "All here in one bed lay."

        She's all states, and all princes I ;
        Nothing else is ;
Princes do but play us ; compared to this,
All honour's mimic, all wealth alchemy.
        Thou, Sun, art half as happy as we,
        In that the world's contracted thus ;
    Thine age asks ease, and since thy duties be
    To warm the world, that's done in warming us.
Shine here to us, and thou art everywhere ;
This bed thy center is, these walls thy sphere.

	10-05-2003 02:16									#15
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John Donne... did he make that poem about how he was going to leave and he forbid his wife from mourning for him?

	10-05-2003 02:19									#16
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I like this one:

quote: Midwinter spring is its own season Sempiternal though sodden towards sundown, Suspended in time, between pole and tropic. When the short day is brightest, with frost and fire, The brief sun flames the ice, on pond and ditches, In windless cold that is the heart's heat, Reflecting in a watery mirror A glare that is blindness in the early afternoon. And glow more intense than blaze of branch, or brazier, Stirs the dumb spirit: no wind, but pentecostal fire In the dark time of the year. Between melting and freezing The soul's sap quivers. There is no earth smell Or smell of living thing. This is the spring time But not in time's covenant. Now the hedgerow Is blanched for an hour with transitory blossom Of snow, a bloom more sudden Than that of summer, neither budding nor fading, Not in the scheme of generation. Where is the summer, the unimaginable Zero summer?

	10-05-2003 02:19									#17
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quote: Originally posted by Albert Speer John Donne... did he make that poem about how he was going to leave and he forbid his wife from mourning for him?

I remember the poem you're referring to, although I have to admit I can't remember who wrote it.

	10-05-2003 02:27									#18
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To rescue this thread from homophobic origins....

Some poetry is gay, like this which I happen to really like. I guess I can empathise with Sappho since I really like girls too.

quote: Peer of gods he seemeth to me, the blissful Man who sits and gazes at thee before him, Close beside thee sits, and in silence hears thee         Silverly speaking, Laughing love's low laughter. Oh this, this only Stirs the troubled heart in my breast to tremble! For should I but see thee a little moment,         Straight is my voice hushed; Yea, my tongue is broken, and through and through me 'Neath the flesh impalpable fire runs tingling; Nothing see mine eyes, and a noise of roaring         Waves in my ear sounds; Sweat runs down in rivers, a tremor seizes All my limbs, and paler than grass in autumn, Caught by pains of menacing death, I falter,         Lost in the love-trance.

	10-05-2003 02:27									#19
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Validiction to Fobid Mourning... i think it was Donne...

	10-05-2003 02:30									#20
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quote: Prayer before birth I am not yet born; O hear me. Let not the bloodsucking bat or the rat or the stoat or the club-footed ghoul come near me. I am not yet born, console me. I fear that the human race may with tall walls wall me, with strong drugs dope me, with wise lies lure me, on black racks rack me, in blood-baths roll me. I am not yet born; provide me With water to dandle me, grass to grow for me, trees to talk to me, sky to sing to me, birds and a white light in the back of my mind to guide me. I am not yet born; forgive me For the sins that in me the world shall commit, my words when they speak to me, my thoughts when they think me, my treason engendered by traitors beyond me, my life when they murder by means of my hands, my death when they live me. I am not yet born; rehearse me In the parts I must play and the cues I must take when old men lecture me, bureaucrats hector me, mountains frown at me, lovers laugh at me, the white waves call me to folly and the desert calls me to doom and the beggar refuses my gift and my children curse me. I am not yet born; O hear me, Let not the man who is beast or who thinks he is God come near me. I am not yet born; O fill me With strength against those who would freeze my humanity, would dragoon me into a lethal automaton, would make me a cog in a machine, a thing with one face, a thing, and against all those who would dissipate my entirety, would blow me like thistledown hither and thither or hither and thither like water held in the hands would spill me. Let them not make me a stone and let them not spill me. Otherwise kill me. -- Louis MacNeice

	10-05-2003 02:35									#21
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quote: Originally posted by Albert Speer Validiction to Fobid Mourning... i think it was Donne...

Yes it was: http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/donne/mourning.htm

Well remembered.

	10-05-2003 02:36									#22
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Lazarus:

Interesting but i'm not really getting what this louis macneice is saying. the unborn wants to be a real human and not just some face with nothing to live for, right? and instead they'd prefer to be aborted?

	10-05-2003 02:39									#23
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A Haiku, written by yours truly after having my appendix out.

Goodbye appendix
Off to greener pastures now
F#ck you for breaking

	10-05-2003 02:42									#24
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i said poems not by you

	10-05-2003 02:42									#25
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quote: Originally posted by BustaMike A Haiku, written by yours truly after having my appendix out. Goodbye appendix Off to greener pastures now F#ck you for breaking

	10-05-2003 02:45									#26
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quote: Originally posted by Albert Speer i said poems not by you

Yeah, I know... but I thought it was good enough to post anyway

	10-05-2003 02:46									#27
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I can't remember who wrote this, but it was some poet to a lady who suggested that they move their relationship from the physical to the spiritual plane. It goes something like this:

quote: Your body's love I still desire, for it is young and fair; your soul can go and hang itself, I've soul enough to spare.

	10-05-2003 02:48									#28
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quote: Originally posted by Albert Speer Lazarus: Interesting but i'm not really getting what this louis macneice is saying. the unborn wants to be a real human and not just some face with nothing to live for, right? and instead they'd prefer to be aborted?

It's mainly about fascism.

	10-05-2003 02:48									#29
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To His Coy Mistress by whatever his name is?

	10-05-2003 02:49									#30
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Marvell.