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The New Coffee Room

  1. TNCR
  2. General Discussion
  3. The poetry thread

The poetry thread

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  • Aqua LetiferA Offline
    Aqua LetiferA Offline
    Aqua Letifer
    wrote on last edited by Aqua Letifer
    #99

    False promises

    Though clowns and blasphemers alike proclaim
    Machines can hide the weakness of their words,
    No heretic has ever cured the lame
    And software can’t make diamonds out of turds.

    —written by me, just now, because I felt like it.

    Please love yourself.

    1 Reply Last reply
    • MikM Offline
      MikM Offline
      Mik
      wrote on last edited by
      #100

      Love it.

      “I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.” ~Winston S. Churchill

      1 Reply Last reply
      • taiwan_girlT Offline
        taiwan_girlT Offline
        taiwan_girl
        wrote on last edited by
        #101

        @Aqua-Letifer , you are quite talented.

        1 Reply Last reply
        • MikM Offline
          MikM Offline
          Mik
          wrote on last edited by
          #102

          Death asked me to join him for dinner
          so I slipped into my favorite black dress
          that I had been saving for a special occasion
          and let him walk me to our candlelit tryst.
          He ordered a ribeye, extra rare
          I ordered two desserts and red wine
          and then I sipped
          and wondered
          why he looked so familiar
          and smelled like earth and memory.
          He felt like a place both faraway
          and deep within my body
          A place that whispers to me
          on the crisp autumn breeze
          along the liminal edges of dusk and dawn
          somewhere between dancing
          and stillness.
          He looked at me
          with the endless night sky in his eyes
          and asked
          ‘Did you live your life, my love?’
          As I swirled my wine in its glass
          I wondered If I understood the thread I wove into the greater fabric
          If I loved in a way that was deep and freeing
          If I let pain and grief carve me into something more grateful
          If I made enough space to be in awe that flowers exist
          and take the time to watch the honeybees
          drink their sweet nectar
          I wondered what the riddles of regret and longing
          had taught me
          and if I realized just how
          beautiful and insignificant and monstrous and small we are
          for the brief moment that we are here
          before we all melt back down
          into ancestors of the land.
          Death watched me lick buttercream from my fingers
          As he leaned in close and said
          ‘My darling, it’s time.’
          So I slipped my hand into his
          as he slowly walked me home.
          I took a deep breath as he leaned in close
          for the long kiss goodnight
          and I felt a soft laugh leave my lips
          as his mouth met mine
          because I never could resist a man
          with the lust for my soul in his eyes
          and a kiss that makes my heart stop.

          ~ Gina Puorro: www.ginapuorro.com

          Author's note: A playful love poem to Death, because I want to remember to relate to it as a part of life, and in ways that exist outside of violence and brutality.

          “I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.” ~Winston S. Churchill

          1 Reply Last reply
          • Aqua LetiferA Offline
            Aqua LetiferA Offline
            Aqua Letifer
            wrote on last edited by Aqua Letifer
            #103

            @Mik Not really my thing but I applaud the effort and I like the idea. 👏

            It's National Poetry Month and I don't care. Because for me every month is National Poetry Month. 😄

            I started doing this thing. I had a different idea for buying the book, but, well, now I'm doing this.

            Blackout poetry (sometimes called found poetry) is taking an existing text and hacking it up with a sharpie so that the extant words create a poem. Some folks go further by clipping out the words so they can be rearranged, but that's too far for me. I like the added constraint of working within the order the words were in originally.

            Anyway, I bought a reprinted first edition of Alice in Wonderland and I'm making one long, continuous blackout poem with the book. I get through about a page a day.

            IMG_1711.jpg

            IMG_1712.jpg

            Please love yourself.

            1 Reply Last reply
            • MikM Offline
              MikM Offline
              Mik
              wrote on last edited by
              #104

              That’s an interesting approach. I’ll perhaps take a crack at it.

              “I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.” ~Winston S. Churchill

              Aqua LetiferA 1 Reply Last reply
              • MikM Mik

                That’s an interesting approach. I’ll perhaps take a crack at it.

                Aqua LetiferA Offline
                Aqua LetiferA Offline
                Aqua Letifer
                wrote on last edited by
                #105

                @Mik said in The poetry thread:

                That’s an interesting approach. I’ll perhaps take a crack at it.

                You should! It's fun and really accessible.

                The only trick to it is it's more of a listening exercise than a writing one. Gotta recognize what kind of things the text suggests to you.

                I find it's more successful the more fun you have with it.

                Those weird Life magazine special issues on Elvis's ghost and haunted cities make for great material. I actually buy the stuff in the checkout lane now.

                Please love yourself.

                1 Reply Last reply
                • Doctor PhibesD Offline
                  Doctor PhibesD Offline
                  Doctor Phibes
                  wrote on last edited by
                  #106

                  Not really a poem, but I came across this on iTunes for my drive to work, and thought it was wonderful...

                  Link to video

                  I was only joking

                  1 Reply Last reply
                  • jon-nycJ Online
                    jon-nycJ Online
                    jon-nyc
                    wrote on last edited by jon-nyc
                    #107

                    The night was dark, the moon was high
                    We were alone, just she and I
                    Her hair was soft, her eyes were blue
                    I just knew what I had to do.
                    I placed my hand upon her breast
                    I did it well, I did my best
                    I felt the thumping of my heart, as slowly her legs spread apart
                    It’s over with, it’s done now
                    My first experience, milking a cow.

                    Only non-witches get due process.

                    • Cotton Mather, Salem Massachusetts, 1692
                    1 Reply Last reply
                    • MikM Offline
                      MikM Offline
                      Mik
                      wrote on last edited by
                      #108

                      IMG_4322.jpeg

                      “I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.” ~Winston S. Churchill

                      1 Reply Last reply
                      • Aqua LetiferA Offline
                        Aqua LetiferA Offline
                        Aqua Letifer
                        wrote on last edited by
                        #109

                        👏

                        Please love yourself.

                        1 Reply Last reply
                        • George KG Offline
                          George KG Offline
                          George K
                          wrote on last edited by
                          #110

                          IMG_0316.jpeg

                          "Now look here, you Baltic gas passer... " - Mik, 6/14/08

                          The saying, "Lite is just one damn thing after another," is a gross understatement. The damn things overlap.

                          Aqua LetiferA 1 Reply Last reply
                          • George KG George K

                            IMG_0316.jpeg

                            Aqua LetiferA Offline
                            Aqua LetiferA Offline
                            Aqua Letifer
                            wrote on last edited by
                            #111

                            @George-K said in The poetry thread:

                            IMG_0316.jpeg

                            Why did they choose Emily Dickinson I wonder? Lots of poets used that meter at the time, it was very common.

                            And it came from music.The meter came from music. It's not a coincidence, there's a direct and intentional connection.

                            Please love yourself.

                            1 Reply Last reply
                            • Doctor PhibesD Offline
                              Doctor PhibesD Offline
                              Doctor Phibes
                              wrote on last edited by Doctor Phibes
                              #112

                              A favourite from my childhood...

                              Matilda, Who Told Lies and Was Burned to Death (1907)

                              Matilda told such Dreadful Lies,
                              It made one Gasp and Stretch one's Eyes;

                              Her Aunt, who, from her Earliest Youth,
                              Had kept a Strict Regard for Truth,
                              Attempted to Believe Matilda:
                              The effort very nearly killed her,
                              And would have done so, had not She
                              Discovered this Infirmity.

                              For once, towards the Close of Day,
                              Matilda, growing tired of play,
                              And finding she was left alone,
                              Went tiptoe to the Telephone
                              And summoned the Immediate Aid
                              Of London's Noble Fire-Brigade.

                              Within an hour the Gallant Band
                              Were pouring in on every hand,
                              From Putney, Hackney Downs, and Bow
                              With Courage high and Hearts a-glow
                              They galloped, roaring through the Town
                              'Matilda's House is Burning Down!'
                              Inspired by British Cheers and Loud
                              Proceeding from the Frenzied Crowd,
                              They ran their ladders through a score
                              Of windows on the Ball Room Floor;
                              And took Peculiar Pains to Souse
                              The Pictures up and down the House,
                              Until Matilda's Aunt succeeded
                              In showing them they were not needed;
                              And even then she had to pay
                              To get the Men to go away!

                              It happened that a few Weeks later
                              Her Aunt was off to the Theatre
                              To see that Interesting Play
                              The Second Mrs Tanqueray.
                              She had refused to take her Niece
                              To hear this Entertaining Piece:
                              A Deprivation Just and Wise
                              To Punish her for Telling Lies.

                              That Night a Fire did break out-
                              You should have heard Matilda Shout!
                              You should have heard her Scream and Bawl,
                              And throw the window up and call
                              To People passing in the Street-
                              (The rapidly increasing Heat
                              Encouraging her to obtain
                              Their confidence)-but all in vain!
                              For every time She shouted 'Fire!'
                              They only answered 'Little Liar'!
                              And therefore when her Aunt returned,
                              Matilda, and the House, were Burned.

                              I was only joking

                              Aqua LetiferA 1 Reply Last reply
                              • Doctor PhibesD Doctor Phibes

                                A favourite from my childhood...

                                Matilda, Who Told Lies and Was Burned to Death (1907)

                                Matilda told such Dreadful Lies,
                                It made one Gasp and Stretch one's Eyes;

                                Her Aunt, who, from her Earliest Youth,
                                Had kept a Strict Regard for Truth,
                                Attempted to Believe Matilda:
                                The effort very nearly killed her,
                                And would have done so, had not She
                                Discovered this Infirmity.

                                For once, towards the Close of Day,
                                Matilda, growing tired of play,
                                And finding she was left alone,
                                Went tiptoe to the Telephone
                                And summoned the Immediate Aid
                                Of London's Noble Fire-Brigade.

                                Within an hour the Gallant Band
                                Were pouring in on every hand,
                                From Putney, Hackney Downs, and Bow
                                With Courage high and Hearts a-glow
                                They galloped, roaring through the Town
                                'Matilda's House is Burning Down!'
                                Inspired by British Cheers and Loud
                                Proceeding from the Frenzied Crowd,
                                They ran their ladders through a score
                                Of windows on the Ball Room Floor;
                                And took Peculiar Pains to Souse
                                The Pictures up and down the House,
                                Until Matilda's Aunt succeeded
                                In showing them they were not needed;
                                And even then she had to pay
                                To get the Men to go away!

                                It happened that a few Weeks later
                                Her Aunt was off to the Theatre
                                To see that Interesting Play
                                The Second Mrs Tanqueray.
                                She had refused to take her Niece
                                To hear this Entertaining Piece:
                                A Deprivation Just and Wise
                                To Punish her for Telling Lies.

                                That Night a Fire did break out-
                                You should have heard Matilda Shout!
                                You should have heard her Scream and Bawl,
                                And throw the window up and call
                                To People passing in the Street-
                                (The rapidly increasing Heat
                                Encouraging her to obtain
                                Their confidence)-but all in vain!
                                For every time She shouted 'Fire!'
                                They only answered 'Little Liar'!
                                And therefore when her Aunt returned,
                                Matilda, and the House, were Burned.

                                Aqua LetiferA Offline
                                Aqua LetiferA Offline
                                Aqua Letifer
                                wrote on last edited by
                                #113

                                @Doctor-Phibes said in The poetry thread:

                                A favourite from my childhood...

                                Matilda, Who Told Lies and Was Burned to Death (1907)

                                Classic. Always loved that one, too.

                                Please love yourself.

                                1 Reply Last reply
                                • MikM Offline
                                  MikM Offline
                                  Mik
                                  wrote on last edited by
                                  #114

                                  There's a fairy tale for that y'know. The boy who cried wolf.

                                  But Matilda's is a better mental picture.

                                  “I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.” ~Winston S. Churchill

                                  1 Reply Last reply
                                  • Aqua LetiferA Offline
                                    Aqua LetiferA Offline
                                    Aqua Letifer
                                    wrote on last edited by
                                    #115

                                    Here's something that's interesting. This is from Lokasenna (Loki's Argument). Here's the original:

                                    Veit ek, ef fyr útan værak,
                                    svá sem fyr innan emk,
                                    Ægis höll of kominn,
                                    höfuð þitt bæra ek í hendi mér;
                                    lykak þér þat fyr lygi.

                                    Snjallr ertu í sessi,
                                    skal-at-tu svá gera,
                                    Bragi bekkskrautuðr;
                                    vega þú gakk, ef þú vreiðr séir;
                                    hyggsk vætr hvatr fyrir.

                                    Yes yes I know "what the fuck etc." Here's a translation:

                                    Bragi said:
                                    If we were outside, and you had not come inside Aegir's hall, I would be holding your severed head. I'd pay you back that way for all your lies.
                                    Loki said:
                                    You're brave while you're sitting. But you wouldn't do that, Bragi, the benchwarmer. Go ahead and strike me, if you're so angry. A brave man wouldn't be afraid to do it.

                                    "Benchwarmer" is an epithet that's about a thousand years old. Has a slightly different meaning now but that's how far back it goes. It's an old, old kenning.

                                    Please love yourself.

                                    1 Reply Last reply
                                    • MikM Offline
                                      MikM Offline
                                      Mik
                                      wrote on last edited by
                                      #116

                                      Do tell..benchwarmer? I couldn't find anything over a couple googles..

                                      “I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.” ~Winston S. Churchill

                                      Aqua LetiferA 1 Reply Last reply
                                      • MikM Mik

                                        Do tell..benchwarmer? I couldn't find anything over a couple googles..

                                        Aqua LetiferA Offline
                                        Aqua LetiferA Offline
                                        Aqua Letifer
                                        wrote on last edited by
                                        #117

                                        @Mik said in The poetry thread:

                                        Do tell..benchwarmer? I couldn't find anything over a couple googles..

                                        Yeah, y'know, someone on the team who doesn't play in the games.

                                        In this context, it means that you're on the boat for the raiding party (they'd bring benches with them on the longboats to double as a storage locker and a seat for rowing), but you don't get out to fight, you just sit there.

                                        Please love yourself.

                                        1 Reply Last reply
                                        • MikM Offline
                                          MikM Offline
                                          Mik
                                          wrote on last edited by
                                          #118

                                          Makes sense, in a Viking sort of way.

                                          “I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals.” ~Winston S. Churchill

                                          1 Reply Last reply
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