Does anyone know where to find any good poetry?

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Does anyone know where to find any good poetry?

Post  humpmastajoe on Sun Mar 14, 2010 12:10 pm

Please everyone, enlighten me.
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Re: Does anyone know where to find any good poetry?

Post  JoeyMcChipmunk on Sun Mar 14, 2010 12:17 pm

Paul Haines

'Sprig'

FRESH WHEM SLEEPING
MEANT EVERY OTHER NIGHT

FALLING ASLEEP FOR A FIFTH TIME
EARLY IN THE MORNING

AND AWAKING IN TERROR
AT HOW LONG

THE WORDS HAS BEEN
STARING BACK AT HIM

NEVER TO BE USED
WAS ONE WORD: INCONCLUSIVE

DENYING GARNERED INTERESTS
OF MAKING OF A LIFE A FORGED PAINTING

SO QUIET THEY COULD HEAR
EACH OTHER'S THOUGHTS

THEIR HANDS
ON HOLD

DESPITE THE DOC'S INABILITY
TO EXPLAIN THE DILEMMA

ABRUPTLY SPEAKING WITH SPARKLING
LUCIDITY ABOUT A CONDITION NOT PRESENT

LIFE'S BIG MAGNET
TUG TUGGING

AND LISTENERS LIKE YOU
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Re: Does anyone know where to find any good poetry?

Post  humpmastajoe on Tue Mar 16, 2010 4:07 pm

I really like that one.
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Re: Does anyone know where to find any good poetry?

Post  my_eric_life. on Tue Mar 16, 2010 7:43 pm

sylvia plath 'daddy'

You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time--
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one gray toe
Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My Polack friend

Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene

An engine, an engine
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gipsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of you,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You--

Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.

If I've killed one man, I've killed two--
The vampire who said he was you
And drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.

There's a stake in your fat black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always knew it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.
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Re: Does anyone know where to find any good poetry?

Post  my_eric_life. on Tue Mar 16, 2010 7:47 pm

thomas james 'letters to a stranger'

I


In April we will pierce his body.
It is March. Snow is dust over the branches.
A pony hunches in the orchard.
I stand at the frozen mouth of the river,
Thinking of you.
In the house where you live
Frost glitters on the windows
Like uncounted pieces of silver.
Already they are preparing the wine and the bread.



II


The field is banked with purple asters
And a spill of mustard flowers.
The earth has taken on terrible proportions.
Out in an unused meadow
The wildflowers have already covered
The delicate bones of an Indian.
Bees are flying across the meadow
To a hive under the rafters of the barn.
Someone is leading a horse with crippled bones
Into the spikes of clover.



III


Alexander died this morning,
Leaving his worldly possessions
To the strongest.
I watched an empire fade across his lips.
They propped him in the sun a while,
And then three women came to scour his body
Like a continent.
I am afraid of what the world will do.
Only this afternoon
I heard two worms conversing
In the shadow of his breastbone.
I slipped out of the palace
And entered a vein of gillyflowers
On the edge of potter’s field.
I will not be missed.
No one even noticed.



IV


I have been thinking of the son
I would like to have.
The leaves have all gone yellow
Overnight, wrinkling like hands
In the updraught.
I drove my car by the creek
Because I had nowhere else to go.
The milkweed’s delicate closet had been fractured,
Filling the air with rumors.
Despite all I could do, the sumac
Had taken on the color of a mouth.
Tonight, I perceive the young girls
In my mother’s blood
Letting their seed pass by unnoticed,
A red nativity.



V


Last night they dragged the canal
For an old man’s body.
Now he is singing for a hook
Just below water level.
A branch of ice is splitting open
Across each window,
And snow is dismantling the weeds
Like the breakable furniture of a boudoir.
I have been rereading your letters.
It is too cold for a virgin birth to occur
Even in the frosty suburbs
Of a wildflower.



VI


I have learned to camouflage myself in church,
Masking my body
With the body of a saint.
Last night frost glazed the face of Mary Magdalene,
And snow rode up to the altar windows.
Before morning, the sparrows came down
To the body of Saint Francis.
Now he is upholstered in oak leaves
Like a living room chair.
This morning we are preparing a crucifixion.
I am thinking of you now.
With the velvet at my knees
And the silverware shining on the altar
And the stained glass moving out of focus
And the cross veiled in black,
I am present for the news of an enormous death.
I take the bread on my tongue
Like one of Christ’s fingers,
And the wine rides through my breast
Like a dark hearse.
All the while I am thinking of you.
An avalanche of white carnations
Is drifting across your voice
As it drifts across the voices of confession.
But the snow keeps whispering of you over and over.
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Re: Does anyone know where to find any good poetry?

Post  my_eric_life. on Tue Mar 16, 2010 7:50 pm

and finally, some poetry that i've written in the past couple of months.

“water cycle 1”

with a stiff arm upon an engorged prostate
fat and red, you slick your hair forward
let me in on a callous grin
i am the nit-wit, nipped to pick, naught for nick
and scratch on my skin when i shave in remembrance of you
your member that leaks like a throbbing bulb—
let me go
i work from a stiffening unconscious
every thought of you is thawed till i am blue
i drown in it like the water that pawed at your lips
you licked back
i was so envious I became a torrential down pour
on a whipping sea
the most beautiful flowers are never for me.

“water cycle 2”

when i am empty, i take myself to the sea
and fill myself with water
i am an open grave
oh portico, hailing lucifer, beg morning light forth and burn me
i’ve embalmed my purpose with a poultice
i open my mouth wide and let my mother sea feed me
in death i am younger than i’ve ever been
this solstice has balanced my egg and cut me in two
a mirth with pith flows into my chambers
i am vested, then gutted, and cleared of cob web
what sleep can’t chloroform is subdued by an immutable gristle
water - i am yours forever
death - i am young in your window

"cassandra locks"
you do undo me like an unmade bed
widow's peak in my hairline --
do you mean to tell me that my loves die before I do?
I do not boo or cuckoo when I'm confronted with you
but I slip in your shoe that is lathered in glue
I am stuck in the muck on the crux of bad luck
will you recede or level out as the years go on?
--or simply be swept under the rug only to emerge
in a year to my surprise as I writhe in the guise
beguiled by the spell I've contrived when his love came up dry?
I drag a comb to coax the choas into a matted mop
I follow the follicles on a path along the part
it's a highway where my father dies -- as you said
it's a highway where the sphinx cries -- as you said
oh soothsayer on my forehead -- forsee what i forget
you forebear a forlorn frame for my fitting
you tell me the end of the story when I look in the mirror and
brush my hair over to silence you
I only pull down a mourning hood each time
widow's peak, you've run me off your cliff
hissing cassandra, I am ill with you
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Re: Does anyone know where to find any good poetry?

Post  humpmastajoe on Tue Mar 16, 2010 10:05 pm

here's a little something I thought of a few days ago to try to explain the mixed feelings I had. I'm not sure if I'm done, or if it may turn into a song into the future.

I am one, I am everyone, I am all. i am none. I sit here on this blue green ball, Simultaneously a giant and something so small.
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Re: Does anyone know where to find any good poetry?

Post  saweetcaroline on Wed Mar 24, 2010 11:08 pm

I was never a huge fan of poetry, until I discovered spoken word, in particular Andrea Gibson. She's simply brilliant. Here's my favorite-

Dive

i often repeat myself
and the second time's a lie
i love you
i love you
see what i mean i don't
...and i do
and i'm not talking about a girl i might be kissing on
i'm talking about this world i'm blissing on
and hating
at the exact same time
see life---doesn't rhyme
it's bullets...and wind chimes
it's lynchings...and birthday parties
it's the rope that ties the noose
and the rope that hangs the backyard swing
it's a boy about to take his life
and with the knife to his wrist
he's thinking of only two things
his father's fist
and his mother's kiss
and he can't stop crying
it's wanting tonight to speak
the most honest poem i've ever spoken in my life
not knowing if that poem should bring you closer
to living or dying
drowning of flying
cause life doesn't rhyme
last night i prayed myself to sleep
woke this morning
to find god's obituary scrolled in tears on my sheets
then walked outside to hear my neighbor
erasing ten thousand years of hard labor
with a single note of his violin
and the sound of the traffic rang like a hymn
as the holiest leaf of autumn fell from a plastic tree limb
beautiful ---and ugly
like right now
i'm needing nothing more than for you to hug me
and if you do
i'm gonna scream like a caged bird
see...life doesn't rhyme
sometimes love is a vulgar word
sometimes hate calls itself peace on the nightly news
i've heard saints preaching truths
that would have burned me at the stake
i've heard poets tellin lies that made me believe in heaven
sometimes i imagine hitler at seven years old
a paint brush in his hand at school
thinkin what color should i paint my soul
sometimes i remember myself
with track marks on my tongue
from shooting up convictions
that would have hung innocent men from trees
have you ever seen a mother falling to her knees
the day her son dies in a war she voted for
can you imagine how many gay teen-age lives were saved
the day matthew shepherd died
could there have been anything louder
than the noise inside his father's head
when he begged the jury
please don't take the lives of the men
who turned my son's skull to powder
and i know nothing would make my family prouder
than giving up everything i believe in
still nothing keeps me believing
like the sound of my mother breathing
life doesn't rhyme
it's tasting your rapist's breath
on the neck of a woman who loves you more
than anyone has loved you before
then feeling holy as jesus
beneath the hands of a one night stand
who's calling somebody else's name
it's you never feelin more greedy
than when you're handing out dollars to the needy
it's my not eating meat for the last seven years
then seeing the kindest eyes i've ever seen in my life
on the face of a man with a branding iron in his hand
and a beat down baby calf wailing at his feet
it's choking on your beliefs
it's your worst sin saving your fucking life
it's the devil's knife carving holes into you soul
so angels will have a place to make their way inside
life doesn't rhyme
still life is poetry --- not math
all the world's a stage
but the stage is a meditation mat
you tilt your head back
you breathe
when your heart is broken you plant seeds in the cracks
and you pray for rain
and you teach your sons and daughters
there are sharks in the water
but the only way to survive
is to breathe deep
and dive
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Re: Does anyone know where to find any good poetry?

Post  humpmastajoe on Sat Mar 27, 2010 10:26 pm

The Guy in the Glass- Dale Wimbrow

When you get what you want in your struggle for pelf,

And the world makes you King for a day,

Then go to the mirror and look at yourself,

And see what that guy has to say.



For it isn't your Father, or Mother, or Wife,

Who judgement upon you must pass.

The feller whose verdict counts most in your life

Is the guy staring back from the glass.



He's the feller to please, never mind all the rest,

For he's with you clear up to the end,

And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test

If the guy in the glass is your friend.



You may be like Jack Horner and "chisel" a plum,

And think you're a wonderful guy,

But the man in the glass says you're only a bum

If you can't look him straight in the eye.



You can fool the whole world down the pathway of years,

And get pats on the back as you pass,

But your final reward will be heartaches and tears

If you've cheated the guy in the glass.
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Re: Does anyone know where to find any good poetry?

Post  humpmastajoe on Sat Jun 19, 2010 2:51 am

"Enjoy Your Time"

Our day of birth was the day we were promised we would die
We got one life, so please don't waste your precious time.

Get off the sidelines, and stop counting your grains of sand
Cause we don't know for sure what's at the other end

We're all dying, so have a fun time
Before we're finished, and start our done time

We're all dying, so have a fun time
Before we're finished, and start a new life

I want to rest with no regrets

When the reaper comes for me it's lights out
Sweet dreams, Sweet dreams, Sweet dreams
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