What is a tanaga?

A Tanaga is a type of Philippine poetry composed of 4 lines, 7 syllables (traditionally) each in the rhyming pattern: AAAA, ABAB,AAAB, ABBA, AABB or in a free verse. A person who writes tanaga is usually called a 'tanagista'

Like a Japanese Haiku, a tanaga can be of any topic and it usually speaks for itself. A tanaga was originally done in Tagalog but it can be done in many languages.

Here are mines enjoy :)

LOVE

The sweetest pair of dove
Filling the air with love
Trying to make my heart
Land in yours like a dart

NIGHTMARE

Someone giving me cold stares
As I run down spiral stairs
I say all of my prayers
Soul awakens such nightmares!

PLACE

Landscape beauty, paint my eyes!
Colors of natural dyes
Of greens under the blue skies
And each bird and bee that flies

UNDECIDED

The clock clicking and ticking
The moment lost is mocking
Confusion keeps me going
On a forked road approaching

HAPPY MOMENT

Intrinsic value of time
Thereto should have shared with thee.
Memories that have made mime
In my heart a revelry

Let's share our own tanagas in this thread. Remember, it can be everything!!

^^ Nice poetry! I'm not much of a poet though, sorry....

are we supposed to make our own?

-edited-

^^ Well, you can make one or get it from other sources but please cite the author or where it comes from. However, its much better if it comes from us diba?

ok double poster hehee

Here are the ones I got from the site: http://tanaga.blogspot.com/

Aso

Mataas sa pag-upo,
Mababa 'pag tumayo.
Kaibigan kong ginto,
Karamay at kalaro.


Pusa

Matanda na ang nuno,
Hindi pa naliligo.
Sa tubig nagtatago,
Tinik ang sinusuyo.

Here's mine too:

Guho

Noong may'rong pagkulog
Luha ay tumutulo
Hindi na makatulog
Mundo ko'y maguguho

SSC

Sa computer natitig
Sila do'n ni tigidig
Minsan ay di ko ma-dig
Kahit di-na tumindig

SSC

Sa computer natitig
Sila do'n ni tigidig
Minsan ay di ko ma-dig
Kahit di-na tumindig

:lol: That was witty! Yeah, sometimes Tigs train of thought derails us readers (no pun intended! :colgate: ).

^niloloko na naman ako ni Askal
baka na naman ako dito maging versatile dito, i like blackidy black

Tanaga ng mga coño:

I am Assumptionista.
Make tusok the fishballs ba.
Super duper talaga.
Oh diba grabe bongga!

i think this is gonna be a fun thread.
wait till the bisdaks posts theirs heeeheee

@ Tigi- Wala ako maisip na ma rhyme with -ig at the end, so ur my life saver. The tanaga is not only intended for you but with the forumers of SSC kaya nga SSC ang title. :)

i think this is gonna be a fun thread.
wait till the bisdaks posts theirs heeeheee

I've been seeing/reading this a lot here....what does "bisdak" mean? :dunno:

bisayang dako hehehe
i think it means full bisaya kirz. not sure though

Big Visayan? What's big about it?

Here is how I describe Philippines in 4 lines:

Ang lupang sinilangan
Pilipinas ang ngalan
Yaman ng kalikasan
Kay sarap ng puntahan

:)

Big Visayan? What's big about it?

I don't know its mostly used in the Visayan region (Cebu), while others in Mindanao don't really use that term.

Probably because its the largest native language being spoken in the country (Visayas and Mindanao).

bisayang dako hehehe
i think it means full bisaya kirz. not sure though
oh thats what it means, i ask her and she said she dont know maybe its friend.

Here is how I describe Philippines in 4 lines:

Ang lupang sinilangan
Pilipinas ang ngalan
Yaman ng kalikasan
Kay sarap ng puntahan

:)

Very patriotic! :applause:

Animo: Can you do a tanaga in Spanish? Let's use tanaga in different languages.

In Davao, they also use the term 'bisdaks'

nakakaintimidate naman ang mga tanaga mo askal hehehe ang gagaling

ito entry ko:

Ako ay natatae, bakit
Sabi nga ng tiyan, ang kulit
Growl, growl, nag oorbit
I do not know nga, swangit

^^ @ mateo: Try to think spontaneous, just anything that rhymes pero associated sya with an object or a topic. It can be jokes as well. Try to do something creative. Don't think about grammar or language.

Ubas

Pabili nga ng ubas
Paborito kong prutas
Natitig sa katabi
Tuloy, di nakabili

I'll try freestyle not really good at poetry:

grano de la arena
vamos arriba
bajo la luna
escuchando

---

grain of sand
up you go
under the moon
listening...

---

I don't even think it rhymes. :dance2:



In Davao, they also use the term 'bisdaks'

Not that popular I think. I mostly hear this from our Cebuano friends.

^^ :lol: tigidig. Gud one. You have the free syllable ones.

Animo, You got the rhymes in Spanish in AAAB but yeah, you have the free syllable ones too. I like poems about nature.

ito entry ko:

Ako ay natatae, bakit
Sabi nga ng tiyan, ang kulit
Growl, growl, nag oorbit
I do not know nga, swangit

:rofl:
nice combination of conyo tagalog plus toilet humour

^^Askal, this thread is a wonderful idea! Kudos to you! Are you a literature student, if you don't mind me asking?

nakakaintimidate naman ang mga tanaga mo askal hehehe ang gagaling

I'm feeling intimidated too hehe
especially as my Tagalog is somewhat rusty these days!

^^Askal, this thread is a wonderful idea! Kudos to you! Are you a literature student, if you don't mind me asking?

Nope, Actually Im into business majors but I love literature. I read books and research about poems, epics and short stories. I just found out this cool literary style on Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tanaga.

I created this thread so I can bring out one of best Philippine literary style such as this one. If Japan have Haikus, we have Tanaga! :)

Tanaga ng mga coño:

I am Assumptionista.
Make tusok the fishballs ba.
Super duper talaga.
Oh diba grabe bongga!

Drfeelgood17: I have a Tanaga too for coños. hehehe

Assumptionista is a moniker for students of Assumption college.

Eto raw ang ginawa ni GMA nung 2004 election:

Hello Garci Hello ko!
Ako ba ay nahilo?
Bilangin mo, magkano?
Dagdagan mo boto ko!

^^Very witty, Askal, GMA would love you for that! :)

Tanaga ng mga coño:

I am Assumptionista.
Make tusok the fishballs ba.
Super duper talaga.
Oh diba grabe bongga!

lol

Eto raw ang ginawa ni GMA nung 2004 election:

Hello Garci Hello ko!
Ako ba ay nahilo?
Bilangin mo, magkano?
Dagdagan mo boto ko!
isa pa 'to lol

Tanaga ng mga coño:

I am Assumptionista.
Make tusok the fishballs ba.
Super duper talaga.
Oh diba grabe bongga!

I like this one too! :)

eto ang mga naisulat kong Tanaga kanina :)

1.
Siya ay nakaluklok
doon sa may palasyo
siya ay desperadong
manatiling pinuno.

2.
Kaniyang katungkulan
kaniya'y nalimutan
at sa kapangyarihan
siya ay nasilawan.

3.
Sa kan'yang pamumuno
Multo'y nagbabalik
Abusadong pinuno
nagbabantang magbalik.

4.
Maliit ma'y matinik
Sa kaniyang pagkapit
na labis na mahigpit
mata ay nanlilisik.

5.
Inang sinamantala
ngayon ay nagdurusa,
kailan kaya siya
tunay ngang mapalaya?

6.
Ang mga kabataan
hiling ay kalayaan
sa kanilang pagtanda
'di tunay na malaya.

7.
Noon ang ating piso
matayog kan'yang tayo
ngayon ay lumulubog,
bukas muling tatayog.

8.
Luntian ang kulay
sa kan'yang kamusmusan
Dilaw naman ang kulay
sa kan'yang katandaan.

(note: the first 3 or 4 is no one in particular, but could be applied to any abusive leader)

^nice i like :)

salamat :)

^^ I just loved how you can group all the Tanagas in one big poem! Parang balagtasan ang effect nya no? Could Francisco Balagtas did this too? Cool!!!!
:applause: :applause: :applause: :applause:

This is top-notched. :)

^^ I just loved how you can group all the Tanagas in one big poem! Parang balagtasan ang effect nya no? Could Francisco Balagtas did this too? Cool!!!!
:applause: :applause: :applause: :applause:
salamat din po :)

hmmm let me try this...

ako ay may pusa,
kinain niyang daga.
sumakit ang kanyang panga,
yun pala'y isang... toy??

HEHE! :D... :jk:

hmmm let me try this...

ako ay may pusa,
kinain niyang daga.
sumakit ang kanyang panga,
yun pala'y isang... toy??

HEHE! :D... :jk:

this is funny :)

hmmm let me try this...

ako ay may pusa,
kinain niyang daga.
sumakit ang kanyang panga,
yun pala'y isang... toy??

HEHE! :D... :jk:

Aww poor cat. :lol:

pa-try ulit

Ako ay isang ngongi
Mahaba ang pangil
Malaki ang tiil
Cute naman ang ngingi

^ :hilarious

pa-try ulit

Ako ay isang ngongi
Mahaba ang pangil
Malaki ang tiil
Cute naman ang ngingi

Cool!! Wow, ongey nga ah. :rofl:

May nagsabog ng lagim
Sa kwartong mataimtim
Sino ang walang awa
Sa ilong kong kawawa

Child

Held in a loving embrace
Never letting go of grace
Kissing his mother's soft hands
Soon Grown up to seek new lands...

^oh so kewt :)

May nagsabog ng lagim
Sa kwartong mataimtim
Sino ang walang awa
Sa ilong kong kawawa
^^ :lol: I do read all of them in the balagtasan tone

i think this is gonna be a fun thread.
wait till the bisdaks posts theirs heeeheee
:sly: Wha cha talkin bout Willis?

^LOL

Here's the most awaited tanaga--the Visayan tanaga:

Kung mangihi na ang bayot
Sa ngitngit didto murag magpaiyot-iyot
Kay magbadbad pa siya sa pisi
Nagihikot sa iyang buhi

Note: its not really mine but its a line from a joke Ive heard a long time ago :)

^^ Medyo wala nako makuha iyong meaning. :crazy:

^^O abi naku polyglot ka?hehehe. Ok, ok, ang gibadbad(unwind) na pisi(twine) nakahigot sa iyang buhi(kuan) :)

^jefrey, naku po, hehehe

Kay magbadbad pa siya sa pisi
Nagihikot sa iyang buhi



^^O abi naku polyglot ka?hehehe. Ok, ok, ang gibadbad(unwind) na pisi(twine) nakahigot sa iyang buhi(kuan) :)

Wala lang ko kasabot ani. Sorry, I only know the "basics" not really the hardcore ones. :colgate:

wag na nga baka mapikon yung bata

Wala lang ko kasabot ani. Sorry, I only know the "basics" not really the hardcore ones. :colgate:
Pagdako nimo dong sulti-an tika. :lol:

^jefrey, naku po, hehehe
^^Sorry for spilling your secret technique tigs. :lol:

^ey didnt you teach me the quickiest way ;)

Pagdako nimo dong sulti-an tika. :lol:

Kasabot ata ko gamay, pero karon lang nako nabasa or heared about those words. Dili man gud ingana mag-istoria ang among mga kaila.

^ey didnt you teach me the quickiest way ;)
^^Nah. Remember you said it yourself that you have a habit of forgetting things so you asked me to remember it for you. So there you can thank me now for doing you a favor. :lol:

Kasabot ata ko gamay, pero karon lang nako nabasa or heared about those words. Dili man gud ingana mag-istoria ang among mga kaila.
Alien siguro to imong nakaila. Basta akong hibalo Bisaya ko ug Bisaya gyud akong inistoryahan. hehehe

Yes, that was you, you showed it to me. we cant be denying now after all, jef ;)

tigs, I'll let you have the last say in denying what you had said to me just so we can get back on topic. :lol:

were still in denial jef :lol:

oredy folks im tired now. Dont worry jef, i was at the top, hehehe, good night too, bro. bukas na lang, :goodnight

Goodnight bro

Child

Held in a loving embrace
Never letting go of grace
Kissing his mother's soft hands
Soon Grown up to seek new lands...

This sounds like the pains of parenthood. Its true. :)

@Jefferyi, Tigs, askal, ang gagaling niyo talaga sa puwet-tree, bilib na ako!

Here's the most awaited tanaga--the Visayan tanaga:

Kung mangihi na ang bayot
Sa ngitngit didto murag magpaiyot-iyot
Kay magbadbad pa siya sa pisi
Nagihikot sa iyang buhi

Note: its not really mine but its a line from a joke Ive heard a long time ago :)

Translation please??? :bash:

@Jefferyi, Tigs, askal, ang gagaling niyo talaga sa puwet-tree, bilib na ako!

You forgot Culiat, Animo and Ash, sista. :)

You forgot Culiat, Animo and Ash. :)
oh yes, of course, sorry for the oversight, they're also great poowets :)

Impression

Be dazzled by your cute eyes
Made me like a frozen ice
Worried I might ask you twice
Yet you answered very nice.

Good Book

Chapters are meant to suggest
Pages are meant to digest
Knowledge is absorbed at best
It will take care of the rest

Translation please??? :bash:
For you doc:
When some people go to take a "jingle", into the darkness they go yanking, untying the twine they had tied on their you know what.

^^That may not make sense to others because they might not undertand some people tying their cuans. In the provinces, at least when I've lived there, there seemed to be a prevailing belief that gay guys tie their cuans backwards in order to get rid of the bulge.

:speech: Note to all minors: Yes, I was talking about the gut. Now make that a lesson to avoid drinking when you're older. :)

ey i just found that out recently in bull riding, hehehe, gota hurt, felt bad for the bulls though

For you doc:
When some people go to take a "jingle", into the darkness they go yanking, untying the twine they had tied on their you know what.

^^That may not make sense to others because they might not undertand some people tying their cuans. In the provinces, at least when I've lived there, there seemed to be a prevailing belief that gay guys tie their cuans backwards in order to get rid of the bulge.

:speech: Note to all minors: Yes, I was talking about the gut. Now make that a lesson to avoid drinking when you're older. :)

jefferyi, are u ready for a dumbo question? Why would anyone want to untie their "cuans" when going for a jingle, in the darkness, or otherwise?? Unless cuan means something else...Or are you speaking metaphorically there? PM the answer me if u wanna leave our minors innocent! :)

^^:lol:

^^ I think I got your metaphor now...after reading it again....LOL

heto po 2nd batch ng mga naisulat kong tanaga kagabi:

1.
Dito man o doon
Saan man pumaroon
Sa pagtakipsilim
Magtatagpo ng lihim

2.
Sa dating nang tagpuan
Mula nu'ng kabataan
Ang iyong kagandahan
Muling masisilayan

3.
Matagal mang maghintay
Ako'y 'di mangangalay
Pagnasilayan ka na'y
Ligayang walang pantay

4.
Lipas na'ng takipsilim
At ika'y wala parin
Kumagat man ang dilim
Hihintayin ka pa rin

5.
Bata nang makilala
Sariwa sa alaala
Sa taglay mo'ng ganda
Ako ay nahalina

6.
Nang ako'y umamin
Na ika'y iniibig
Ikaw rin ay nagsabing
Ako ri'y iniibig

7.
Sila man ay humadlang
Sa'ting pagiibigan
Tayo ang nakatakdang
Muling magkatuluyan

8.
Ang wagas na pagibig
Ang siyang mananaig
Isang pagmamahalan
Na 'di mapapantayan

9.
Inabot na'ng umaga
'di ka parin kasama
Ngunit aking pagasa
'di pa rin mawawala

10.
Ako ay inabutan
Ng aking kaibigan
At tulog ng mahimbing
Ako'y kan'yang ginising

to be continued...

:applause: :applause: :applause: :applause: :applause: :applause: :applause:

Way to go Culiat! :bow:

jefferyi, are u ready for a dumbo question? Why would anyone want to untie their "cuans" when going for a jingle, in the darkness, or otherwise?? Unless cuan means something else...Or are you speaking metaphorically there? PM the answer me if u wanna leave our minors innocent! :)

ye jef dont forget sin-hino :jk:

Wow, you have a gift Culiat. Thanks for sharing. BTW what does takipsilim mean? :cheers:

pag magiging madilim na mga alas sais or 545

^^ Sunset. If I'm not mistaken. :colgate:

^^ Dusk....in English

ye jef dont forget sin-hino :jk:
Dont dig up the hatchet bro. Sobra napikon yung batang 'yon last time. Buti na lang inedit yung mga posts niya. Napaka serious pa la ng batang yon.

Thanks for schooling an ignoramus guys.

ang katuloy...

11.
Hindi ka na nagisnan
Iyo bang nalimutan
Ang pangakong tagpuan
Ako ba'y sadyang iwan?

12.
Piliin ma'ng magalit
'di ko parin mapilit
Puso kong marikit
Sa'yo lang umaawit

13.
Awit ko iyong dinggin
Pagibig aking hiling
Ikaw lang ang mithiin
Nais kang makapiling

14.
Bakit nga ba ganito,
Ikaw ba'y nagtatago?
Kailan magtatagpo,
Ang ating mga puso?

15.
Dumating isang araw
Iyong ina'y natanaw
sakin ibinalita
Ika'y sumakabila

16.
Bakit mo'ko iniwan
Dito na nagiisa
Nais kong ika'y sundan
Ayoko nang magdusa

17.
Panginoon dinggin mo
Ang aking tanging hiling
Irog nitong puso ko
Ay muling makapiling

18.
Sa bawat takipsilim
Hinihintay ka parin
Sa pagsapit ng dilim
Ay hanaphanap parin

19.
Isang araw dumating
Katuparan ng hiling
Ang ika'y makapiling
Nahimlay ng mahimbing

20.
Namulat aking mata
Mukha mo ang nakita
Aking kaligayahan
Tayo'y nagkatuluyan

(Di ko po sinasadya ang kanilang pagkakasunodsunod na tila sila'y bumubuo ng isang mahabang tula)

Aww....how sweet! Nice ending Culiat! :okay: :master:

salamat po

Dont dig up the hatchet bro. Sobra napikon yung batang 'yon last time. Buti na lang inedit yung mga posts niya. Napaka serious pa la ng batang yon.

ye i noticed the same, u cant joke with this kid :lol:

ye i noticed the same, u cant joke with this kid :lol:
I'm lost hehe, napano ba cia nun?

I'm lost hehe, napano ba cia nun?
ang pagbibinata ni sinjin, culiat

ang gaganda naman ng tanaga mo culiat
ewan ko, sige na nga OO na :lol:

ang pagbibinata ni sinjin, culiat
ah ok :)

ang haba ng signature ni culiat.
di ko nakita yung post nya, hinanap ko, yun pala yung "ah ok"
hehehhe
joke lang cully

scully pala sya sabi ni junior

o eto para kay ashley:


Ashley

I've seen yellow, pink and red
White, purple, lavender too
But of all the roses I've seen
None as lovely as you

ang haba ng signature ni culiat.
di ko nakita yung post nya, hinanap ko, yun pala yung "ah ok"
hehehhe
joke lang cully
Haba nga eh lol, may balak akong palitan kaya lng tinatamad pako lol :)

ang haba ng signature ni culiat.
di ko nakita yung post nya, hinanap ko, yun pala yung "ah ok"
hehehhe
joke lang cully

:hahaha: ako nga wala pang signature, hindi kasi ako maarte :jk:

o eto para kay ashley:


Ashley

I've seen yellow, pink and red
White, purple, lavender too
But of all the roses I've seen
None as lovely as you

Tulog pa yata si Ashley, sayang hindi tuloy mapapansin yung puwetree mo.

:applause: :applause: :applause: :applause:
Fantastic! culiat - You got the talent man!

@matt: hmmmm. hmmmm. She's surely gonna like it.

o eto para kay ashley:


Ashley

I've seen yellow, pink and red
White, purple, lavender too
But of all the roses I've seen
None as lovely as you

uyyyyyy may bagong loveteam :D

Pilipinas

buhay'y walang ka-kulay
puno ng saya't sarap
buhay'y walang ka-pantay
umaakyat sa ulap

uyyyyyy may bagong loveteam :D

hmmmmmm hmmmmmm :hahaha:

uyyyyyy may bagong loveteam :D
maglove team, magasawa na yata yan eh, hehehe. naga-serve pa ng coffee. ano ba yan. napakasweet nde kaya langgamin :lol:

o eto para kay ashley:


Ashley

I've seen yellow, pink and red
White, purple, lavender too
But of all the roses I've seen
None as lovely as you

.....

:kiss:

^^Katok-katok, nagsisimula na po ang laro.

.....

:kiss:

uyyyy bago ngang loveteam hehe

ito entry ko:

Ako ay natatae, bakit
Sabi nga ng tiyan, ang kulit
Growl, growl, nag oorbit
I do not know nga, swangit

this entry i did is making me laugh again
what the hell was i thinking that day :lol:

Bump! :colgate:

Regrets

Life is like video tape
'cause it holds each of its frames
But unlike video tape
Life's mistakes...only for blames.

^^ Wow! Very Zen like Master Askal! :master:

Niyebe (snow)

Si Patrasche at si Nelo
Magkaibigang tunay
Puro hirap sa buhay
Nabaon lang sa yelo.

-inspired by the story of the Dog of Flanders. :)

Thanx Kimber ;)

kaping maitim
masahol pa sa gabing
wala ka sa piling

black coffee
darker than the nights
without you

garalgal ang tinig
nang awitan niya
bangkay na asawa

his voice quivers
as he sings their love song
at her wake

gabing malamig
naghihintay na marinig
kaniyang pagbabalik

evening chill
she keeps listening
for his footsteps

VP Gendramo

Poetry is visualizing a thought, a feeling, a word, a moment, a state of mind, a wish or desire, a belief, a discovery, a recipe, an experience, a condition, an emotion, etc. … that which is intangible is captured through a string of words or a web of verses to create a picture in one’s mind.

Poetry is Artistry articulated in language likely to arouse kindred emotions or fire the imagination.

This is where you put your artistry and imagination in writing or capture it in pictures.

Post poems or prose here either original or by other literary authors.
It will be nice to add some pictures in it to evoke the image or feeling you are trying to conjure through your words. You can also do Visual Poetry.

somewhere i have never travelled
-- e. e. cummings

http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/road.jpg

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose
http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/petal.jpg

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/raindrop1.jpg

Yeah, or like this:
http://www.davidsanger.com/images/czech/4-960-758.couple.y.jpg
I remember he and I were in a park.

I remember he and I were in a park.
Right here, he placed
His arm around me
And in a single moment,
As the breeze caught up the autumn leaves
In a gentle whirlwind,
To suspend whatever lifeless ochre scraps
Were laying on the soil of October.
A once inanimate heart
Swirled to the tune of eternity
Only to begin a beat
In unison with his.

But as I try to look back,
There was no he to remember.
No name to recall.
So tell me then
Why is his portion of the bench
Still warm
To this very day.
?


Dreamt by Cha
Poetry by Sugarboy

My favorite.

Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.
____________________________

Lili wants us to have photos to go along with the poem.
But this is my road not taken:

http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b332/MatteoMatt/african-poverty.jpg

^^ Yes that is a very jolting story and picture, Matt. Unique take on The Road not Taken.

Here, probably for Chot and Mike and Andy (and those who have experienced love lost):

This is poetry by one of the greatest post modern poets, Pablo Neruda's "tonight I can write...".

http://content.bolt.com/uploads2/audio/streams/7/4/5/9/6/8/745968/image/1146848421099.jpg (/alegnanozit/audio/870657)

Just click the link: (I couldn't figure out how to play the video directly.)
http://www.bolt.com/alegnanozit/audio/870657

Tonight I Can Write...
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, ‘The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her. and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like the one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing,

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

--Pablo Neruda
translated by W.S. Merwin

THE LOVING ONE ONCE MORE.

WHY do I o'er my paper once more bend?
Ask not too closely, dearest one, I pray
For, to speak truth, I've nothing now to say;
Yet to thy hands at length 'twill come, dear friend.
Since I can come not with it, what I send
My undivided heart shall now convey,
With all its joys, hopes, pleasures, pains, to-day:
All this hath no beginning, hath no end.
Henceforward I may ne'er to thee confide
How, far as thought, wish, fancy, will, can reach,
My faithful heart with thine is surely blended.
Thus stood I once enraptured by thy side,
Gazed on thee, and said nought. What need of speech?
My very being in itself was ended.

- Goethe

somewhere i have never travelled
-- e. e. cummings

http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/road.jpg

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose
http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/petal.jpg

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/raindrop1.jpg

this is really beautiful @lili.

@ashley, sana ma-dig up natin yung poem that i wrote with your picture serving as the visual peg. yung may..."there is no us" . can you help me find that?

PAGBATI SA PAGSINTA by Joi Barrios
Nakatindig kong babatiin ang pagsinta.
Hindi nakahimlay at nahihimbing
na kailangang gisingin ng halik,
hindi nakaupo't naghihintay
na para bang ang kanyang pagdating
ang kabuuan ng buhay,
hindi nakatingkayad o lumilipad
na nakikipaglaro sa hangin at pangarap.
Nakatayo ako't sumasayad
ang paa sa lupa,
pagkat lagi't lagi,
nakayapak ako kung umibig.

WELCOMING LOVE by Joi Barrios
I shall welcome love standing,
not laying down and sleeping,
waiting for the magical kiss to wake me,
nor sitting expectantly
as though his coming creates my life's meaning;
not on tiptoe, nor in flight,
playing with the wind, dreaming --
but standing, my feet touching ground,
for always,
I love on bare feet.

http://www.cothrun.com/gallery/albums/Misc/footprints.sized.jpg
lol okay this picture isn't very fitting, but it's funny no?

^^ :lol: Ang laki naman ng paa niya. :hilarious

^^ You do know what they say about big feet! :okay: :hilarious

big penis or big shoes?

Eh, that is a woman with the big feet. (Read the poem.) Kaya pala parang may-gel yung hair nung guy! :jk:

bastos si lili! :lol: i like it hehehehe

in other news, i like the poems here.

^^ Yes that is a very jolting story and picture, Matt. Unique take on The Road not Taken.

Here, probably for Chot and Mike and Andy (and those who have experienced love lost):

This is poetry by one of the greatest post modern poets, Pablo Neruda's "tonight I can write...".

http://content.bolt.com/uploads2/audio/streams/7/4/5/9/6/8/745968/image/1146848421099.jpg (/alegnanozit/audio/870657)

Just click the link: (I couldn't figure out how to play the video directly.)
http://www.bolt.com/alegnanozit/audio/870657

Tonight I Can Write...
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, ‘The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her. and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like the one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

She same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing,

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

translated by W.S. Merwin

Waaaaaah! :cry: :cry:

Will post poem and pic later when I have more time. hehe

Hello Kimber! :hi:

^ I thought about you when I read and heard that poem, Chot.

Thought Chot --- there's a rhyme.

this one is quite literal as the picture is of the actual painting that served as the inspiration for the poem. This poem won me my first elocution contest :)

The Man with a Hoe by Edwin Markham, and L'homme � la houe by Jean-Fran�ois Millet

In 1899 an American schoolteacher, Charles Edward Anson Markham (1852-1940), who used the penname Edwin Markham, was inspired by an 1863 painting to write a poem. The painting was "L'homme � la houe" by the French artist, Jean-Fran�ois Millet (1814-1875); the poem was "The Man with a Hoe".

The poem quickly became as famous as the painting. Both continue to be moving testimonies to what the too prevalent inhumanity of humanity can cause.

The Man with a Hoe

Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans
Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,
The emptiness of ages in his face,
And on his back, the burden of the world.
Who made him dead to rapture and despair,
A thing that grieves not and that never hopes,
Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?
Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw?
Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow?
Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?

Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave
To have dominion over sea and land;
To trace the stars and search the heavens for power;
To feel the passion of Eternity?
Is this the dream He dreamed who shaped the suns
And marked their ways upon the ancient deep?
Down all the caverns of Hell to their last gulf
There is no shape more terrible than this--
More tongued with cries against the world's blind greed--
More filled with signs and portents for the soul--
More packed with danger to the universe.

What gulfs between him and the seraphim!
Slave of the wheel of labor, what to him
Are Plato and the swing of the Pleiades?
What the long reaches of the peaks of song,
The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose?
Through this dread shape the suffering ages look;
Time's tragedy is in that aching stoop;
Through this dread shape humanity betrayed,
Plundered, profaned and disinherited,
Cries protest to the Powers that made the world,
A protest that is also prophecy.

O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
Is this the handiwork you give to God,
This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched?
How will you ever straighten up this shape;
Touch it again with immortality;
Give back the upward looking and the light;
Rebuild in it the music and the dream;
Make right the immemorial infamies,
Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?

O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
How will the future reckon with this Man?
How answer his brute question in that hour
When whirlwinds of rebellion shake all shores?
How will it be with kingdoms and with kings--
With those who shaped him to the thing he is--
When this dumb Terror shall rise to judge the world,
After the silence of the centuries?

Return to the Ronald Wyllys Webpage.


http://www.gslis.utexas.edu/~wyllys/manwhoe.gif

^ I thought about you when I read and heard that poem, Chot.

Thought Chot --- there's a rhyme.


Why me? Hehe! Coz I'm a sentimental slop, that's why! :lol:

^ Hey, I did an elocution of that, too. And won. ;) We'll do a challenge at the meet then, Chot. :lol:

uy, i love this thread..hehe, thanks lili..wow, chot's contribution transported me back to high school, kakamiss..

Another favorite from Pablo Neruda

I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.

http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j156/picfreak_2006/holdinghands-loveconnection-350.jpg

Heart-rending lahat. Ganda . :) More please.

tinalo nyo pagka emo ko...
nahiya ako sa sarili ko :(...
will post a poem tonight tho.

for my SSC friends..:)

http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j156/picfreak_2006/friendship.gif

Friendship - Kahlil Gibran

And a youth said, "Speak to us of Friendship."
Your friend is your needs answered.
He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.
And he is your board and your fireside.
For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.
When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your own mind, nor do you withhold the "ay."

And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;
For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.
When you part from your friend, you grieve not;
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.

And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.
For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.
And let your best be for your friend.
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.

For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

AKO'Y TUTULA MAHABANG-MAHABA
AKO'Y UUPO, TAPOS NA PO

BOW

^^..haha..the best so far :D

Spring (the four seasons) by Renoir

http://www.oceansbridge.com/paintings/artists/r/renoir-new-collection/big/Spring_(The_Four_Seasons)__1879.jpg

Untitled
by Nomar Aicrag

Do not forget me.
Rather, save me in your memory
When summer days turn to summer nights
Remember me when the crickets delight

Do not neglect me
Rather, keep me in your thoughts
When autumn leaves shed their greens,
Think of me in the dewdrops' gleam.

Do not abandon me
Rather, hold me in your heart
When winter's white shrouds the hills,
Keep me close when the cold winds chill.

Do not forsake me
Rather, preserve me in your love
When flower buds adorn the spring,
Cherish me when the songbirds sing.

AKO'Y TUTULA MAHABANG-MAHABA
AKO'Y UUPO, TAPOS NA PO

BOW
http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/TeeJ.jpg
:bowtie:

Can't
by Edgar A. Guest

http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b300/ka_rl_08/failure.jpg

Can't is the worst word that's written or spoken
Doing more harm here than slander and lies
On it is many a strong spirit broken,
And with it many a good purpose dies.
It springs from the lips of the thoughtless each morning
And robs us of courage we need through the day
It rings in our ears like a timely-sent warning,
And laughs when we falter and fall by the way.

Can't is the father of feeble endeavor,
The parent of terror and half-hearted work
It weakens the efforts of artisans clever,
And makes of the toiler an indolent shirk.
It poisons the soul of the man with a vision,
It stifles in infancy many a plan
It greets honest toiling with open derision
And mocks at the hopes and the dreams of a man.

Can't is a word none should speak without blushing
To utter it should be a symbol of shame
Ambition and courage it daily is crushing
It blights a man's purpose and shortens his aim.
Despise it with all of your hatred of error
Refuse it the lodgment it seeks in your brain
Arm against it as a creature of terror,
And all that you dream of you some day shall gain.

Can't is the word that is foe to ambition,
An enemy ambushed to shatter your will
Its prey is forever the man with a mission
And bows but to courage and patience and skill.
Hate it, with hatred that's deep and undying,
For once it is welcomed 'twill break any man
Whatever the goal you are seeking, keep trying
And answer this demon by saying: "I can."

http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b300/ka_rl_08/success.jpg

**these images are the best i can find. sorry for the tackiness.

^^ snap, di ko maalis yung pics ko, si lil talga ooooo :lol: picturekeeper

http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/ISingtheBodyElectric.jpg
Walt Whitman (1819–1892). Leaves of Grass. 1900.
Excerpts

1
I SING the Body electric;
The armies of those I love engirth me, and I engirth them;
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the Soul.

Was it doubted that those who corrupt their own bodies conceal themselves;
And if those who defile the living are as bad as they who defile the dead?
And if the body does not do as much as the Soul?
And if the body were not the Soul, what is the Soul?
http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/body-and-soul.jpg
2
The love of the Body of man or woman balks account—the body itself balks account;
That of the male is perfect, and that of the female is perfect.

5
http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/womansbody.jpg
This is the female form;
A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot;
It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction!
I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapor—all falls aside but myself and it;
Books, art, religion, time, the visible and solid earth, the atmosphere and the clouds, and what was expected of heaven or fear’d of hell, are now consumed;
Mad filaments, ungovernable shoots play out of it—the response likewise ungovernable;
Hair, bosom, hips, bend of legs, negligent falling hands, all diffused—mine too diffused;
Ebb stung by the flow, and flow stung by the ebb—love-flesh swelling and deliciously aching;
Limitless limpid jets of love hot and enormous, quivering jelly of love, white-blow and delirious juice;
Bridegroom night of love, working surely and softly into the prostrate dawn;
Undulating into the willing and yielding day,
Lost in the cleave of the clasping and sweet-flesh’d day.

This is the nucleus—after the child is born of woman, the man is born of woman;
This is the bath of birth—this is the merge of small and large, and the outlet again.

Be not ashamed, women—your privilege encloses the rest, and is the exit of the rest;
You are the gates of the body, and you are the gates of the soul.

The female contains all qualities, and tempers them—she is in her place, and moves with perfect balance;
She is all things duly veil’d—she is both passive and active;
She is to conceive daughters as well as sons, and sons as well as daughters.

As I see my soul reflected in nature;
As I see through a mist, one with inexpressible completeness and beauty,
See the bent head, and arms folded over the breast—the female I see.

6
http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/manbody.jpg
The male is not less the soul, nor more—he too is in his place;
He too is all qualities—he is action and power;
The flush of the known universe is in him;
Scorn becomes him well, and appetite and defiance become him well;
The wildest largest passions, bliss that is utmost, sorrow that is utmost, become him well—pride is for him;
The full-spread pride of man is calming and excellent to the soul;
Knowledge becomes him—he likes it always—he brings everything to the test of himself;
Whatever the survey, whatever the sea and the sail, he strikes soundings at last only here;
(Where else does he strike soundings, except here?)

The man’s body is sacred, and the woman’s body is sacred;
No matter who it is, it is sacred;
http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/body.jpg

Is it a slave? Is it one of the dull-faced immigrants just landed on the wharf?
Each belongs here or anywhere, just as much as the well-off—just as much as you;
Each has his or her place in the procession.

(All is a procession;
The universe is a procession, with measured and beautiful motion.)

9
...
O my Body! I dare not desert the likes of you in other men and women, nor the likes of the parts of you;
I believe the likes of you are to stand or fall with the likes of the Soul, (and that they are the Soul; )

I believe the likes of you shall stand or fall with my poems—and that they are poems ...

O I say, these are not the parts and poems of the Body only, but of the Soul,
O I say now these are the Soul!
http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/humanbody.jpg

^^ lili, bakit yung picture ng lalaking nagfeflex parang may nakikita akong dapat hindi makita.. hehe. :eek2:

Meron ba? Akala ko tuwalya lang yon. :D

haha. di ko rin sure kung yung nga yun so baka nga tuwalya. :D

I duno if this is a poem or what.
Just reminds me of high school crush, Nancy. :D
She likes this one:

http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b332/MatteoMatt/sanmig1.jpg

Go placidly amid the noise and haste
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others; even the dull and ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and
lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career however humble;
it is a real posession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism

Be yourself.

Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt
the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy

Spring (the four seasons) by Renoir

http://www.oceansbridge.com/paintings/artists/r/renoir-new-collection/big/Spring_(The_Four_Seasons)__1879.jpg

Untitled
by Nomar Aicrag

Do not forget me.
Rather, save me in your memory
When summer days turn to summer nights
Remember me when the crickets delight

Do not neglect me
Rather, keep me in your thoughts
When autumn leaves shed their greens,
Think of me in the dewdrops' gleam.

Do not abandon me
Rather, hold me in your heart
When winter's white shrouds the hills,
Keep me close when the cold winds chill.

Do not forsake me
Rather, preserve me in your love
When flower buds adorn the spring,
Cherish me when the songbirds sing.


In line with what Chot posted, here's something from the high school days of yore:


SAVE ONE FOR ME

I guess I never was
And never will be
A figment of your imagination
(or extreme horror)
To tell you bluntly,
We could have made castles in the skies
Just you and me kid

But then again,
That's another story
Well hidden
In my treasury of fantasies.


(...may sequel pa yun...i'll try to draw it out from memory and post when it comes back)

i think this is gonna be my favourite of all the threads in Samahan. :lol:
i, thank you. :D

one of my favs, read it in highschool:

'if' by Rudyard Kipling

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 all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath 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!

Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)

http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h189/c2russ/Young_Boy_by_keeprockin.jpg
-Love this pic too... Hold on little boy!-

[SAMPLE ONLY]

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures
He leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil:
For thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:
Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

http://www.freespiritart.com/images/the-lord-is-my-shepherd.jpg

^^ All very inspirational. Such satisfying food for the soul. :)

^^ Thanks Lili for starting this thread. All very inspirational indeed. Got me in the mood to start writing poetry again. Hehe!

@Sugarb - Post some more of yours. :)

In Discovery
-Leonard Nimoy

But
You seem unsure.
Are you ready?
Do you know me?
You seem unsure...
Do I offer too little,
Or is it too much?
You seem unsure.
Am I too late,
Or is it too soon?
I have known you for a thousand years,
In other times and other worlds
I have known your heart,
Your mind and your very soul.
We have traveled separately,
Through endless space and time
To be together here.
I have always known
That it would come to pass.
I have watched and waited.
I could enter a crowded room
And in an instant
Know that this was not
The time nor the place.
And now..
Today...
I hear a sound...
And I know...
I sense your presence...
And I know...
Your questions touch me.
You ask:
Will it always be easy?
Will it be forever?
I wish I could answer yes...
I can only say
Let's begin
To try
To do
To build
To breathe
To live
With patience
With care
With an open mind
Let us join the ages.
The tides flow.
The sun rises and sets.
The seasons come and go.
The moon and the stars
Light the night way
For each of us.
What we plant today
Will root and grow.
Let us plant a seed,
Love and protect it
Feed and warm it.
Surely a tree will rise
To take it's place in the sun
Let us plant today
The seed which will be
The tree of us...
Yes,
You are.
I understand because
I am too.
Each of us exists
Separate and alone.
This is your Spring,
your precious time
to blossom,
to be.
Will you be with me?
And now
At last,
We are...


http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b300/ka_rl_08/couples-150.jpg

Another fave poet, Emily Dickinson
http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j156/picfreak_2006/bird_in_hand.jpg

If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j156/picfreak_2006/112heart_in_hand_blank.jpg

Someone post a happy poem quick! Please!! Hehe

tagalog naman! nabasa ko sa pinoy poetry forum.
na-alala ko lola ni juan!


Ang saya-saya ko
Ako’y niligawan mo
Kilig to the bones
Haba ng hair ng lola mo.

Sinagot kita, gwapo mo kasi
Saisang “angel” na nahulog sa langit
Saan pa ba makakahanap ng isang tulad mo
Puso ko’y tumitibok-tibok

Dinala mo ako sa restaurant
First date natin
First holding hands
Tawagan pa natin ay “kisses”

May kung ano akong naramdaman
Nais isiwalat ngunit,
Nahihiya ang aking puso
Paano nga ba masasabi ito?

Katagang mahirap bitawan
Baka ika’y masaktan lamang
Ano ang dapat gawin?
Ako’y nahihirapan na

Heto na! akin nang babanggitin
Upang iyo’y malaman
Upang puso’y matahimik na ng lubusan
Bakit nga ba ngayon pa? badtrip!
“may kanin ka sa gilid ng bibig mo!
….sa kaliwa”

^^ Dapat yata sa akin yang tula na 'yan ah. lol. Buti kanin lang, meron dati akong date may dinuguan sa ngipin. Turn off. :hilarious

Ahahahaha C2! Thanks! Not exactly the kind of poem I had in mind, but it served it's purpose! :lol:

sorry i cant find a picture for it tho. :(

hahaha..yak..dinuguan..:lol:

^^ Dapat yata sa akin yang tula na 'yan ah. lol. Buti kanin lang, meron dati akong date may dinuguan sa ngipin. Turn off. :hilariousYung isang kaibigan ko rito (isa dun sa buntis), brownies naman... kausap niya yung crush niya at the time, di ko alam kung ano pinag-uusapan nila, basta ang sabi niya dun sa crush niya "That's so sweet!" without realizing she had brownie bits in between her teeth, hehehe...

May isa pa nga akong kausap may mayonnaise sa corner ng lips. I hate mayonnaise pa naman. :lol:

May isa pa nga akong kausap may mayonnaise sa corner ng lips. I hate mayonnaise pa naman. :lol:

sana hinaluan mo ng ketchup - para thousand island. :D

...

^^ that's a really good poem. very sweet. :D

worm wood

^ sr. josepepe. welcome to samahan!
aqui podemos discutir de todo.. en ingles, tagalog pati en español. :D
taga Vegas ka pala? bienvenido :wave:

tagalog naman! nabasa ko sa pinoy poetry forum.
na-alala ko lola ni juan!


huwaaaat? ano kinalaman ng lola ko sa muyang (muyang = kanin na naligaw)
gago ka ha, lola mo kulubot!! :D

^^ aah, muyang pala tawag sa kanin na ligaw. tawag kasi namin dyan ng mga kapatid ko mumu. lolo ko makalat kumain kaya laging may ligaw kung saan saan. pati sa tenga't hinlalaki umaabot. :)

:wave: ^ sr. josepepe. welcome to samahan!
aqui podemos discutir de todo.. en ingles, tagalog pati en español. :D
taga Vegas ka pala? bienvenido :wave:




huwaaaat? ano kinalaman ng lola ko sa muyang (muyang = kanin na naligaw)
gago ka ha, lola mo kulubot!! :D


:wave: gracias, manileno. en vez de discutir prefiero leer sus mensajes. si no estoy ocupado tal vez?


josepepe

^ sr. josepepe. welcome to samahan!
aqui podemos discutir de todo.. en ingles, tagalog pati en español. :D
taga Vegas ka pala? bienvenido :wave:




huwaaaat? ano kinalaman ng lola ko sa muyang (muyang = kanin na naligaw)
gago ka ha, lola mo kulubot!! :D

:rofl:
sana naman wag pagtripan ang aking mga ninuno. Patay na sila....lagot kayo!

^ sr. josepepe. welcome to samahan!
aqui podemos discutir de todo.. en ingles, tagalog pati en español. :D
taga Vegas ka pala? bienvenido :wave:

huwaaaat? ano kinalaman ng lola ko sa muyang (muyang = kanin na naligaw)
gago ka ha, lola mo kulubot!! :D

sira! hindi sa muyang ko na-alala ang lola mo sa 1st stanza, 4th line = "haba ng hair ng lola mo"

pero ikaw na-alala kita sa 2nd stanza, 2nd line "Saisang “angel” na nahulog sa langit" naks!

gago ka rin! bati na tayo! ok! :lol:

http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j156/picfreak_2006/112heart_in_hand_blank.jpg
This photo reminds me of a poem "Love with an open hand" or something to that effect.

This is my favorite poem by T.S. Elliot (I think I already posted this before):

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
**
LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats ********5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question … ********10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
*
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
*
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, ********15
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, ********20
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
*
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; ********25
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate; ********30
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
*
In the room the women come and go ********35
Talking of Michelangelo.
*
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair— ********40
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare ********45
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
*
For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, ********50
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
**So how should I presume?
*
And I have known the eyes already, known them all— ********55
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? ********60
**And how should I presume?
*
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress ********65
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
**And should I then presume?
**And how should I begin?
******.******.******.******.******.
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets ********70
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…
*
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
******.******.******.******.******.
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! ********75
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? ********80
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, ********85
And in short, I was afraid.
*
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while, ********90
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”— ********95
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
**Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
**That is not it, at all.”
*
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while, ********100
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: ********105
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
**“That is not it at all,
**That is not what I meant, at all.”
******.******.******.******.******. ********110
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use, ********115
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
*
I grow old … I grow old … ********120
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
*
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
*
I do not think that they will sing to me. ********125
*
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
*
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown ********130
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

http://www.freud.org.uk/duino.jpg

The City In the Sea
- Edgar Allan Poe

Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West,
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
There shrines and palaces and towers
(Time-eaten towers that tremble not!)
Resemble nothing that is ours.
Around, by lifting winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.

No rays from the holy heaven come down
On the long night-time of that town;
But light from out the lurid sea
Streams up the turrets silently-
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free-
Up domes- up spires- up kingly halls-
Up fanes- up Babylon-like walls-
Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers-
Up many and many a marvellous shrine
Whose wreathed friezes intertwine
The viol, the violet, and the vine.
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
So blend the turrets and shadows there
That all seem pendulous in air,
While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down.

There open fanes and gaping graves
Yawn level with the luminous waves;
But not the riches there that lie
In each idol's diamond eye-
Not the gaily-jewelled dead
Tempt the waters from their bed;
For no ripples curl, alas!
Along that wilderness of glass-
No swellings tell that winds may be
Upon some far-off happier sea-
No heavings hint that winds have been
On seas less hideously serene.

But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave- there is a movement there!
As if the towers had thrust aside,
In slightly sinking, the dull tide-
As if their tops had feebly given
A void within the filmy Heaven.
The waves have now a redder glow-
The hours are breathing faint and low-
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle hence,
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,
Shall do it reverence.

this poem goes out to my new found friends, and to you connecting to the threads in Starbucks. :D

Today I found A Friend

http://www.bleetown.com/threefeet/archives/starbucks_nerd_1.jpg

Today I found a friend,
Or maybe she found me,
Or was it fate, chance, circumstance -
Predestination, by whatever name?
Were we like nanoid stars whose orbits,
Devised at time's beginning,
In due season
Intersect?

Though we'll never know,
No matter! For instinct tells me
That our friendship, nurtured,
Will grow strong.

So much of her I like;
Her quiet ways, warmth,
A gentle wit, and intellect,
An honest face, kind eyes, a ready smile.

'Friend' is not easily defined, and yet,
These things mean that to me
Concerning one whom, even now,
I hope to see again
And count the days and hours
Until a second meeting.

Lili this is really a thread to look into a day when the material world drives you almost insane...this all takes me into another dimension...where there are whispers and quiet reminders of a world beyound..

Really enjoy this.. :)

wow what a beautiful thread. i'm actually more into prose. but i like reading poetry once in a while. this is my latest favorite. no image to go with it yet.

The Desolate Field
William Carlos Williams

Vast and grey, the sky
is a simulacrum
to all but him whose days
are vast and grey and --
In the tall, dried grasses
a goat stirs
with nozzle searching the ground.
My head is in the air
but who am I . . . ?
-- and my heart stops amazed
at the thought of love
vast and grey
yearning silently over me.

http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j156/picfreak_2006/112heart_in_hand_blank.jpg
This photo reminds me of a poem "Love with an open hand" or something to that effect.

This is my favorite poem by T.S. Elliot (I think I already posted this before):

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
**
LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats ********5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question … ********10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
*
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
*
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, ********15
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, ********20
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
*
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; ********25
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate; ********30
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
*
In the room the women come and go ********35
Talking of Michelangelo.
*
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair— ********40
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare ********45
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
*
For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, ********50
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
**So how should I presume?
*
And I have known the eyes already, known them all— ********55
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? ********60
**And how should I presume?
*
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress ********65
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
**And should I then presume?
**And how should I begin?
******.******.******.******.******.
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets ********70
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…
*
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
******.******.******.******.******.
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! ********75
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? ********80
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, ********85
And in short, I was afraid.
*
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while, ********90
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”— ********95
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
**Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
**That is not it, at all.”
*
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while, ********100
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: ********105
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
**“That is not it at all,
**That is not what I meant, at all.”
******.******.******.******.******. ********110
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use, ********115
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
*
I grow old … I grow old … ********120
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
*
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
*
I do not think that they will sing to me. ********125
*
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
*
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown ********130
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Wonderboy,

What a great poem. T. S. Elliot was a genius. I have a classic which is a favorite of mine from a twelfth century poet.

ABU-L-HASAN IBN AL-QABTURNUH
twelfth century

In Battle

I remembered Sulayma when the passion
of battle was as fierce
as the passion of my body when we parted.

I thought I saw, among the lances, the tall
perfection of her body,
and when they bent toward me I embraced them.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

josepepe

A classic love poem from Elizabeth Barret Browning (pardon the mush..hehe ;) )

How do i love thee?

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, -- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! -- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

http://www.contactbrant.net/images/holding%20hands%20duotone.jpg

I'm surprised nobody has posted any poem from Mr. Shakes himself..hehe..This sonnet is very memorable because i had to memorize and deliver this in front of the class..good times..:)

Sonnet 29 - William Shakespeare

When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf Heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featur'd like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least:
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee,--and then my state
(Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings'.

ah..i love poems..hehe :)

...And Justice for All

Halls of Justice Painted Green
Money Talking
Power Wolves Beset Your Door
Hear Them Stalking
Soon You'll Please Their Appetite
They Devour
Hammer of Justice Crushes You
Overpower

The Ultimate in Vanity
Exploiting Their Supremacy
I Can't Believe the Things You Say
I Can't Believe
I Can't Believe the Price You Pay
Nothing Can Save You

Justice Is Lost
Justice Is Raped
Justice Is Gone
Pulling Your Strings
Justice Is Done
Seeking No Truth
Winning Is All
Find it So Grim
So True
So Real

Apathy Their Stepping Stone
So Unfeeling
Hidden Deep Animosity
So Deceiving
Through Your Eyes Their Light Burns
Hoping to Find
Inquisition Sinking You
With Prying Minds

The Ultimate in Vanity
Exploiting Their Supremacy
I Can't Believe the Things You Say
I Can't Believe
I Can't Believe the Price You Pay
Nothing Can Save You

Justice Is Lost
Justice Is Raped
Justice Is Gone
Pulling Your Strings
Justice Is Done
Seeking No Truth
Winning Is All
Find it So Grim
So True
So Real

Lady Justice Has Been Raped
Truth Assassin
Rolls of Red Tape Seal Your Lips
Now You're Done in
Their Money Tips Her Scales Again
Make Your Deal
Just What Is Truth? I Cannot Tell
Cannot Feel

The Ultimate in Vanity
Exploiting Their Supremacy
I Can't Believe the Things You Say
I Can't Believe
I Can't Believe the Price We Pay
Nothing Can Save Us

Justice Is Lost
Justice Is Raped
Justice Is Gone
Pulling Your Strings
Justice Is Done
Seeking No Truth
Winning Is All
Find it So Grim
So True
So Real

Seeking No Truth
Winning Is All
Find it So Grim
So True
So Real

~ Metallica

Song on the End of the World
Czeslaw Milosz

On the day the world ends
A bee circles a clover,
A Fisherman mends a glimmering net.
Happy porpoises jump in the sea,
By the rainspout young sparrows are playing
And the snake is gold-skinned as it it should always be.

On the day the world ends
Women walk through fields under their umbrellas
A drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn,
Vegetable peddlers shout in the street
And a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island,
The voice of a violin lasts in the air
And leads into a starry night.

And those who expected lightning and thunder
Are disappointed.
And those who expected signs and archangels' trumps
Do not believe it is happening now.
As long as the sun and the moon are above,
As long as the bumblebee visits a rose
As long as rosy infants are born
No one believes it is happening now.

Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet,
Yet is not a prophet, for he's much too busy,
Repeats while he binds his tomatoes:
No other end of the world there will be,
No other end of the world there will be.

PUCHA! poetry thread nga... OUT AKO DITO! haha

Another fave poet, Emily Dickinson
http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j156/picfreak_2006/bird_in_hand.jpg

If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

http://i79.photobucket.com/albums/j156/picfreak_2006/112heart_in_hand_blank.jpg

If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking and road not taken ==> i love those poems sad..
you have good taste! :D

The Reasons Why I Do
by JaGa

written December 5, 2000 for me :D

- Poem deleted, poster's request -



cute... expressive w/o being oa

Song on the End of the World
Czeslaw Milosz

On the day the world ends
A bee circles a clover,
A Fisherman mends a glimmering net.
Happy porpoises jump in the sea,
By the rainspout young sparrows are playing
And the snake is gold-skinned as it it should always be.

On the day the world ends
Women walk through fields under their umbrellas
A drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn,
Vegetable peddlers shout in the street
And a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island,
The voice of a violin lasts in the air
And leads into a starry night.

And those who expected lightning and thunder
Are disappointed.
And those who expected signs and archangels' trumps
Do not believe it is happening now.
As long as the sun and the moon are above,
As long as the bumblebee visits a rose
As long as rosy infants are born
No one believes it is happening now.

Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet,
Yet is not a prophet, for he's much too busy,
Repeats while he binds his tomatoes:
No other end of the world there will be,
No other end of the world there will be.

i love poems.. :D

Song on the End of the World
Czeslaw Milosz

On the day the world ends
A bee circles a clover,
A Fisherman mends a glimmering net.
Happy porpoises jump in the sea,
By the rainspout young sparrows are playing
And the snake is gold-skinned as it it should always be.

On the day the world ends
Women walk through fields under their umbrellas
A drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn,
Vegetable peddlers shout in the street
And a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island,
The voice of a violin lasts in the air
And leads into a starry night.

And those who expected lightning and thunder
Are disappointed.
And those who expected signs and archangels' trumps
Do not believe it is happening now.
As long as the sun and the moon are above,
As long as the bumblebee visits a rose
As long as rosy infants are born
No one believes it is happening now.

Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet,
Yet is not a prophet, for he's much too busy,
Repeats while he binds his tomatoes:
No other end of the world there will be,
No other end of the world there will be.

this one's also good..

i love poems..

tnx a lot lili :D

You're welcome. Thank you to all the contributors. Keep 'em coming. :)

eto naman para sa mga trip ang confessional poets

Sex without Love
Sharon Olds

How do they do it, the ones who make love
without love? Beautiful as dancers,
gliding over each other like ice-skaters
over the ice, fingers hooked
inside each other's bodies, faces
red as steak, wine, wet as the
children at birth whose mothers are going to
give them away. How do they come to the
come to the come to the God come to the
still waters, and not love
the one who came there with them, light
rising slowly as steam off their joined
skin? These are the true religious,
the purists, the pros, the ones who will not
accept a false Messiah, love the
priest instead of the God. They do not
mistake the lover for their own pleasure,
they are like great runners: they know they are alone
with the road surface, the cold, the wind,
the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio-
vascular health--just factors, like the partner
in the bed, and not the truth, which is the
single body alone in the universe
against its own best time.

Anthony, you are a photo-artist. Please add visuals. ;)

That is really a thought-provoking poem. It also make me think-- how they do it? Make love without love?

Clouds and Waves

Mother, the folk who live up in the clouds call out to me-
"We play from the time we wake till the day ends.
We play with the golden dawn, we play with the silver moon."
I ask, "But how am I to get up to you ?"
They answer, "Come to the edge of the earth, lift up your
hands to the sky, and you will be taken up into the clouds."
"My mother is waiting for me at home, "I say, "How can I leave
her and come?"
Then they smile and float away.
But I know a nicer game than that, mother.
I shall be the cloud and you the moon.
I shall cover you with both my hands, and our house-top will
be the blue sky.
The folk who live in the waves call out to me-
"We sing from morning till night; on and on we travel and know
not where we pass."
I ask, "But how am I to join you?"
They tell me, "Come to the edge of the shore and stand with
your eyes tight shut, and you will be carried out upon the waves."
I say, "My mother always wants me at home in the everything-
how can I leave her and go?"
They smile, dance and pass by.
But I know a better game than that.
I will be the waves and you will be a strange shore.
I shall roll on and on and on, and break upon your lap with
laughter.
And no one in the world will know where we both are.

- Rabindranath Tagore

Anthony, you are a photo-artist. Please add visuals. ;)

That is really a thought-provoking poem. It also make me think-- how they do it? Make love without love?

illustration is my weakness. hehe.

ganda ng tula Askal82 :cheers:

Reunion sa classroom
Enrico Torralba

Paano ba natin haharapin
Ang mga alaala?

Umid ang lahat.
Nilisan na ng langitngit
Ang pintong dati'y gumigising
Sa ating isip tuwing umaga.
Wala na tayong marinig na salaysay
Ng mga silya't mesa tungkol sa ating
Mura, libog, kodigo at pag-ibig
Dahil dinamtan ng maraming taon
Ng papel de liha at pintura.
Hindi na natin madama sa mukha
Ng pisara ang iniwang galit
At suntok ng mga kaklaseng nagrambulan.
Nasaan na ba ang ating mga pangalan
Sa mga pahina ng mga librong
Nakatanod sa bookshelf?
Nangingimi taytong lumakad nang mabilis,
Isangguni sa bintana ang gunita
Ng biruan at ligawan sa mga bangkong
Pinalis ng bagong gusali,
Dahil mas sanay katalik ng ating mga paa
Ang sangsang, lagkit at kulay ng sahig
Na ngayo'y marmol, bago at makintab.
Nag-iisa ang kisame sa pakikipagtunggali
Nito sa lamig-aircon na bumabalot sa kanyang tinig.
Umid ang lahat.

Ako'y napasandal sa dingding
Na parang anunsyong walang bumabasa.

ganda ng tula Askal82 :cheers:

Thanks, I love Tagore's poems. He is the first Asian to win the Noble Prize for literature. Like Mahatma Gandhi, some of his literary works manifest themes with regards to India's independence movement from British rule.

para maiba naman

Spanish Dancer
Rainer Maria Rilke

As in one's hand a lighted match blinds you before
it comes aflame and sends out brilliant flickering
tongues to every side -- so, within the ring of the
spectators, her dance begins in hasty, heated rhythms
and spreads itself darting flames around.

And suddenly the dance is altogether flame!

With a fierce glance she sets her hair alight.
Unexpectedly she turns with daring artfulness
the swirling flounces of her dress within this
conflagaration, out of which her upheld naked arms,
clapping the castanets, appear like serpents striking.

And then, afraid her fire were diminishing,
she gathers it all up and flings it down
with an imperious haughtly gesture, and watches
as it lies there writhing on the ground, unyielding
and unwilling to concede the dance has ended.
Yet she show victory in her sweet swift smile
as she lifts up her face, while with her small firm feet
she stamps out the last of the dying embers.

http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/SpanishDancer-JohnSingerSargent.jpg
Spanish Dancer by John Singer Sargent

OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/warriorbig.jpg
-William Ernest Henley. 1849–1903

does anyone have a poem for this picture?

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a94/avenidalasalle/Skyscrapers/joyce02.jpg

hmm..either this..

Seashore - Rabindranath Tagore

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
The infinite sky is motionless overhead
and the restless water is boisterous.
On the seashore of endless worlds
the children meet with shouts and dances.

They build their houses with sand
and they play with empty shells.
With withered leaves they weave their boats
and smilingly float them on the vast deep.
Children have their play on the seashore of worlds.

They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets.
Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships,
while children gather pebbles and scatter them again.
They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.

The sea surges up with laughter
and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach.
Death-dealing waves sing meaningless ballads to the children,
even like a mother while rocking her baby's cradle.
The sea plays with children,
and pale gleams the smile of the sea beach.

On the seashore of endless worlds children meet.
Tempest roams in the pathless sky,
ships get wrecked in the trackless water,
death is abroad and children play.
On the seashore of endless worlds is the
great meeting of children.

or this

Children - Dewey Nixon

Children love, they laugh, they care.
Children, bless them, they know how to share.
Children try hard to be what you want,
Sometimes they can't and they start
To cry, that's when a hug or a
Kiss is the tool, no not a spanking
That's not the rule.
Children do good and children do bad,
Children are happy and children are sad.
Children must walk before they
Can run, all of us wake to the
Bright morning sun.
So cherish the children these
Treasures from God, for without
Them the Earth would be nothing
But water and sod.

both are beautiful. thanks for sharing dex.

bugnaw bulan

pozo oscuro

http://tn3-1.deviantart.com/300W/images3.deviantart.com/i/2004/118/4/9/Supermarket.jpg

A Supermarket in California
Allen Ginsberg

What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I
walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a
headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.
In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went
into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families
shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the
avocados, babies in the tomatoes! -- and you, Garcia Lorca,
what were you doing down by the watermelons?

I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber,
poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys.
I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork
chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?
I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans
following you, and followed in my imagination by the store detective.
We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary
fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy,
and never passing the cashier.

Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an
hour. Which way does your beard point tonight?
(I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the
supermarket and feel absurd.)
Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees
add shade to shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be
lonely.

Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love past
blue automobiles in driveways, home to our silent cottage?
Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher,
what America did you have when Charon quit poling his
ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and stood
watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe?



http://tn3-2.deviantart.com/fs6/300W/i/2005/095/b/7/Supermarket_sucks_by_Reuno.jpg
images:
1. http://wetzel.deviantart.com
2. http://Reuno.deviantart.com

A Psalm of Life - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

What the heart of the young man said to the psalmist

TELL me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!--
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,--act in the living present!
Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

A Supermarket in California
Allen Ginsberg
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I
walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a
headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.
In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went
into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families
shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the
avocados, babies in the tomatoes! -- and you, Garcia Lorca,
what were you doing down by the watermelons?


Hey, Allen Ginsberg, a Beat Generation poet! Here he is with another favorite Beat poet Gregory Corso.

http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/img_corso_03.jpg

The beat generation was a small and tightly connected group of young American writers who demonstrated a care-free, often reckless and unquestionably fresh approach to literature as well as a demonstrative social stance toward what was sometimes referred to as "The Establishment". The most prominent are Jack Kerouac (On the Road) (1952), Allen Ginsberg (Howl) (1956), and William S. Burrough (Naked Lunch) (1959). The members of the beat generation were new bohemian libertines, who engaged in a spontaneous, sometimes messy, creativity. The beat writers produced a body of written work controversial both for its advocacy of non-conformity and for its non-conforming style.

Echoes of the Beat Generation run throughout all the forms of alternative/counter culture that have existed since then (e.g. "hippies", "punks", etc). The Beat Generation can be seen as the first modern subculture. Both Howl and Naked Lunch became the focus of obscenity trials in the United States that helped to liberalize what could be legally published.

POLITICS

Politics is the exposition
Of the underbelly of man
So helplessly vulnerable
To the adept manipulation
Of opportunist politicians
Playing hocus pocus
On mass credulity
And shocking gullibility
Like a flock of sheep
Led to the slaughter
By a bell weather goat
Politics has no heart
It has only a brain
It is not concerned
With what is exigent
But with what is expedient
It has no conscience
For what is morally right
But only for politically right
To it there is no minority
Nor even majority
Let alone equality
There is only superiority
Of the domineering will
Of the so-called leaders
Over the governed
Politics, be it totalitarian,
Democratic, socialist,
Or whatever concoction,
Is inherently diseased,
Because of its human inception,
Motivation, and creation,
Being conceived
In Satanic deception.

Here is another poetry by a Beat poet Gregory Corso that echoes somewhat the sentiments in The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

Marriage
Gregory Corso

Should I get married? Should I be Good?
Astound the girl next door with my velvet suit and faustaus hood?
Don't take her to movies but to cemeteries
tell all about werewolf bathtubs and forked clarinets
then desire her and kiss her and all the preliminaries
and she going just so far and I understanding why
not getting angry saying You must feel! It's beautiful to feel!
Instead take her in my arms lean against an old crooked tombstone
and woo her the entire night the constellations in the sky--

When she introduces me to her parents
back straightened, hair finally combed, strangled by a tie,
should I sit knees together on their 3rd degree sofa
and not ask Where's the bathroom?
How else to feel other than I am,
often thinking Flash Gordon soap--
O how terrible it must be for a young man
seated before a family and the family thinking
We never saw him before! He wants our Mary Lou!
After tea and homemade cookies they ask What do you do for a living?
Should I tell them? Would they like me then?
Say All right get married, we're losing a daughter
but we're gaining a son--
And should I then ask Where's the bathroom?
http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/foolishcourthip.jpg

O God, and the wedding! All her family and her friends
and only a handful of mine all scroungy and bearded
just waiting to get at the drinks and food--
And the priest! He looking at me if I masturbated
asking me Do you take this woman for your lawful wedded wife?
And I trembling what to say say Pie Glue!
I kiss the bride all those corny men slapping me on the back
She's all yours, boy! Ha-ha-ha!
http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/weddingwager.jpg
And in their eyes you could see some obscene honeymoon going on--
then all that absurd rice and clanky cans and shoes
Niagara Falls! Hordes of us! Husbands! Wives! Flowers! Chocolates!
All streaming into cozy hotels
All going to do the same thing tonight
The indifferent clerk he knowing what was going to happen
The lobby zombies they knowing what
The whistling elevator man he knowing
The winking bellboy knowing
Everybody knowing! I'd be almost inclined not to do anything!
Stay up all night! Stare that hotel clerk in the eye!
Screaming: I deny honeymoon! I deny honeymoon!
running rampant into those almost climatic suites
yelling Radio belly! Cat shovel!
O I'd live in Niagara forever! in a dark cave beneath the Falls
I'd sit there the Mad Honeymooner devising ways to break marriages, a scourge of bigamy a saint of divorce--

But I should get married I should be good
How nice it'd be to come home to her
and sit by the fireplace and she in the kitchen
aproned young and lovely wanting my baby
and so happy about me she burns the roast beef
and comes crying to me and I get up from my big papa chair
saying Christmas teeth! Radiant brains! Apple deaf!
God what a husband I'd make! Yes, I should get married!
So much to do! like sneaking into Mr Jones' house late at night
and cover his golf clubs with 1920 Norwegian books
Like hanging a picture of Rimbaud on the lawnmower
like pasting Tannu Tuva postage stamps all over the picket fence
like when Mrs Kindhead comes to collect for the Community Chest
grab her and tell her There are unfavorable omens in the sky!
And when the mayor comes to get my vote tell him
When are you going to stop people killing whales!
And when the milkman comes leave him a note in the bottle
Penguin dust, bring me penguin dust, I want penguin dust--
Yet if I should get married and it's Connecticut and snow
and she gives birth to a child and I am sleepless, worn,
up for nights, head bowed against a quiet window, the past behind me,
finding myself in the most common of situations a trembling man
knowledged with responsibility not twig-smear not Roman coin soup--
O what would that be like!
Surely I'd give it for a nipple a rubber Tacitus
For a rattle bag of broken Bach records
Tack Della Francesca all over its crib
Sew the Greek alphabet on its bib
And build for its playpen a roofless Parthenon
http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/marriage.jpg

No, I doubt I'd be that kind of father
not rural not snow no quiet window
but hot smelly New York City
seven flights up, roaches and rats in the walls
a fat Reichian wife screeching over potatoes Get a job!
And five nose running brats in love with Batman
And the neighbors all toothless and dry haired
like those hag masses of the 18th century
all wanting to come in and watch TV
The landlord wants his rent
Grocery store Blue Cross Gas & Electric Knights of Columbus
Impossible to lie back and dream Telephone snow, ghost parking--
http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/Domestic20Bliss.jpg
No! I should not get married and I should never get married!

But--imagine if I were to marry a beautiful sophisticated woman
tall and pale wearing an elegant black dress and long black gloves
holding a cigarette holder in one hand and highball in the other
and we lived high up a penthouse with a huge window
from which we could see all of New York and even farther on clearer days
No I can't imagine myself married to that pleasant prison dream--

O but what about love? I forget love
not that I am incapable of love
it's just that I see love as odd as wearing shoes--
I never wanted to marry a girl who was like my mother
And Ingrid Bergman was always impossible
And there maybe a girl now but she's already married
And I don't like men and--
but there's got to be somebody!
Because what if I'm 60 years old and not married,
all alone in furnished room with pee stains on my underwear
and everybody else is married! All in the universe married but me!
http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/Indecision.jpg

Ah, yet well I know that were a woman possible as I am possible
then marriage would be possible--
Like SHE in her lonely alien gaud waiting her Egyptian lover
so I wait--bereft of 2,000 years and the bath of life.

http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/Indecision20b.jpg

^^ Lemme guess. You thought about me again! :lol: :jk: :rofl:

^^ Oh... how presumptuous Chot. It's not all about you. ;)

^^ i thought this thread was all about poetry. may charades din pala dito si lili at si chot :lol: hola chot and lili :wave:

hehe. salamat ate lili sa infos. mahilig ka rin pala sa beat. natetempt ako i post yung howl ni ginsberg pero wag na lang kasi haba haba.

kung trip nio take nio ito http://quizilla.com/users/PlathIsDead/quizzes/Who%20is%20Your%20Alter%20Poet%3F/
kaya lang onti ng choices and di seryoso. nakuha ko yung kerouac.

http://images.quizilla.com/P/PlathIsDead/1048139884_resKerouac.jpg
Way to go, your alter poet is Jack Kerouac, who is by FAR the coolest!

Take this quiz (http://quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=17&url=http://www.quizilla.com/users/PlathIsDead/quizzes/)!


Quizilla ( http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=18&url=http://www.quizilla.com/) | Join (http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=21&url=http://www.quizilla.com/register) | Make a Quiz (http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=21&url=http://www.quizilla.com/makeaquiz.php) | More Quizzes (http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=21&url=http://www.quizilla.com/users/PlathIsDead/quizzes/) | Grab Code (http://www.quizilla.com/redirect.php?statsid=42&url=http://www.quizilla.com/codepastes/)

Yabag
Don Bustamante

Ang mga pahina ng iyong buhay ay mabubuksan
Tulad ng pagbubukas ng mga pinto ng pagsino,
Kung sino ka,
Kung ano ka,
Sa pagkakasilang mo sa mundo
At hahanapin mo ang daan ng nais mong tahakin
Kung magiging sino ka,
Kung magiging ano ka,
Sino ka nga ba? Ikaw ba ang nilalang na iniluwal sa mundong
Ito para magtampisaw sa buhay na hindi mo naman buhay?
Ano ka nga ba? Ikaw ba ang naligaw na inakay na minsang
Sumubok liparin ang mga ulap na hindi mo naman kayang
Ikampay ang mga pakpak, dahil ang katawan mo’y may
Mga bakas ng lumot na dinaig pa ang isang paglalakbay
Sa mundong hindi mo naman mundo?

Ganoon kita pinagmasdan,
Pinalago mo ang madawag na landasin na minsan pa
Mang tinahak ng mga kinilala mong nalaos na ang mga
Pawis na hindi tumulo sa bunga ng kanilang paghihirap,
Nagsalamin ka sana, at upang makita mo ang iyong sarili
Na nakaukit sa kanilang mga nakaraan.

Nawa’y maalala mong ang buhay ay hindi hinihiram
Upang sumunod sa yabag ng mga paa na hindi mo naman paa.

http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h189/c2russ/follow_in_someone_elses_shoes_by_su.jpg

^^ :okay:

I also got Kerouac, who is by far the coolest. ;)

I wouldn't want to be either Plath or Sexton. What tragic poetesses.

@Citrus - Ang lalim! I had to read it five times to understand it!!! Now I want you to write a 1200 word Tagalog essay on how this poem relates to you. I want it on my desk by 5pm Thursday.

I got T.S. Elliot. Hmmm...myabe it's the cat thing?

http://images.quizilla.com/P/PlathIsDead/1048140424_tureseliot.jpg
Your alter poet is Thomas Stearns Eliot. For you, life rocks pretty hard!

^^ Hi Chot! :) We should have posted here our "He Said, She Said" interpretation in YM on the Gregory Corso poem on Marriage. ;)

^^ Hi Lili! :hi: Hehe! Yah! It's in my archive at home. Hehe :) Kaya lang baka ma IA nanaman tayo ni KevinB :lol:

^^ T.S. Eliot's objective-correlative amazes me. I heard a recording of his "Love Song J. Alfred Prufrock" in 2003 and swear to God, it was damn beautiful:

The only way of expressing emotion in the form of art is by finding an 'objective correlative'; in
other words, a set of objects, a situation, a chain of events which shall be the formula of that
particular emotion; such that when the external facts, which must terminate in sensory experience,
are given, the emotion is immediately evoked. (qtd. in J. A. Cuddon's Dictionary of Literary
Terms, page 647)

Geez, I miss my comparative literature courses!

http://images.quizilla.com/P/PlathIsDead/1048141030_uresSexton.jpg

Wow...too weird...inasmuch as I don't want to take this seriously, Sexton reflects my "current state" he he...and most of my writings are tragic.

Okay, back to work. :)

Those who are in the darkness seeks the light.
However, once they find the light they only avert their eyes and all they feel is pain.
This is when they look upon the darkness and realize that they are not just in the darkness.
They are darkness themselves.

Those who are living lies seeks the truth.
However, once they find the truth they only deny it because all they feel is pain.
This is when they look upon the lies they led and realize that they were not lied to.
Then they will know eternal darkness.
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b84/tigidig14/zamboanga/photo-84660.jpg

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f30/manileno/PICT1393a.jpg

I AM
K.A. Araullo

I am serene and bright
I wonder what lies ahead
I hear my heart whispering
I see a brighter future
I want to make a difference
I am serene and bright.

I pretend to be invincible
I feel the world around me
I touch the soul within
I worry i might fail.
I cry 'cause I have fallen
I am serene and bright.

I understand life is like a wheel
I say I'll rise whenever I fall
I dream of a brighter world
I try to make it happen
I hope I'll succeed
I am serene and bright.

http://i44.photobucket.com/albums/f30/manileno/PICT1393a.jpg

I AM
K.A. Araullo

I am serene and bright
I wonder what lies ahead
I hear my heart whispering
I see a brighter future
I want to make a difference
I am serene and bright.

I pretend to be invincible
I feel the world around me
I touch the soul within
I worry i might fail.
I cry 'cause I have fallen
I am serene and bright.

I understand life is like a wheel
I say I'll rise whenever I fall
I dream of a brighter world
I try to make it happen
I hope I'll succeed
I am serene and bright.

niyahahahaha :hilarious: nasa'yo nga pala ung isang kopya nito lol

How come you have Kirby's poetry, Juan? But I do hope that Kirby remains serene because I sometimes see a little volatility and vulnerability in him. Well, it is quite natural for a young man, one who is artistic at that.

==>this is a good one

Time Long Past - Percy Shelley

Like the ghost of a dear friend dead
Is Time long past.
A tone which is now forever fled,
A hope which is now forever past,
A love so sweet it could not last,
Was Time long past.

There were sweet dreams in the night
Of Time long past:
And, was it sadness or delight,
Each day a shadow onward cast
Which made us wish it yet might last--
That Time long past.

There is regret, almost remorse,
For Time long past.
'Tis like a child's belovèd corse
A father watches, till at last
Beauty is like remembrance, cast
From Time long past.

Poem from the movie "Before Sunrise"

David Jewell - Delusion Angel

Daydream, delusion, limousine, eyelash.
Oh baby with your pretty face.
Drop a tear in my wineglass.
Look at those big eyes.
See what you mean to me.
Sweet-cakes and milkshakes.
I'm delusion angel, I'm fantasy parade,
I want you to know what I think.
Don't want you to guess anymore.
You have no idea where I came from.
We have no idea where we're going.
Latched in life, Like branches in a river,
Flowing downstream, Caught in the current,
I'll carry you, You'll carry me.
That's how it could be, Don't you know me?
Don't you know me by now?

Matins
Louise Glück

You want to know how I spend my time?
I walk the front lawn, pretending
to be weeding. You ought to know
I'm never weeding, on my knees, pulling
clumps of clover from the flower beds: in fact
I'm looking for courage, for some evidence
my life will change, though
it takes forever, checking
each clump for the symbolic
leaf, and soon the summer is ending, already
the leaves turning, always the sick trees
going first, the dying turning
brilliant yellow, while a few dark birds perform
their curfew of music. You want to see my hands?
As empty now as at the first note.
Or was the point always
to continue without a sign?

Splatter Song
Lourd Ernest H. de Veyra

The poet woke up to the sound of a poem slathered in warm slime
That faintly resembled phlegm.
The poem looked like a turtle, although slightly mutated
Like a cross between a furry animal and a piece of festering meat.
Yet beneath the membranous covering, the poem glowed incandescently
Like a Japanese lantern in the dead of night.
The poet stared at it and examined it with the tip of his finger.
It was warm, pleasantly warm.
But after a few seconds, the edge of his finger began devouring itself,
Sore and raw like an anthrax rot.
It was relentless, with the viciousness of an army of piranhas.
The poet, alarmed, scampered toward the kitchen, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
Seeing that the gangrene was attacking his heart,
The poet reached for the butcher's knife
And, with a swift thrust, lopped off his own arm.
He saw the arm roll off to the other end of the kitchen,
Totally devoured by rot, maggots swimming in its sallow flesh.

He was relieved, yet at the same time, pain screamed from his wound.
"How can I ever write again?" he grimaced.
"Things will never be the same."
He looked at the crimson mess all around him.
The puddles of blood resembled mad Rorschach patterns.

The edge of his eye caught sight of the amputated arm
Growing small, flourescent flowers.

Hi guys and gals, this is my first post in this thread. Here are some of my recent poems:

Gay Poetry: Untitled One


- fra ivan -


When you catch those eyes
You know
You will always see them
And
There is a place somewhere



Behind the sounds of your walk
Ripples
Of someone's footsteps
Follow you
- a shadow!
Wherever you may go



Then there
In one corner
You stop
You feel your inner soul
Lips,
Nipples,
Curves of muscles,
Between your legs, crotch
Can feel the damp air



In that unknown space
Someone's hand begins to dance
from your neck
down your shoulder
your breast
hips
lastly to your thighs
And his tongue searches
Your moist lips



Sweats
Saliva
Moisture
Traveling down the skins
Of two colliding bodies


Gay Poetry: Another Untitled One

- fra ivan -

When you walked out from our door
I suddenly remembered
The taste of your skin
The color of your shaft
The depth of your well
And how the hairs
Between your legs were braided.

And now I know
Why the smoke from the ashtray
Swirl that way

I suddenly felt
The warmth of your chest
The weight of your legs
The tender touches of your hands
The smoothness of your lips
And the gentle thrust of your godhead.

And now I know
Why my coffee
Tastes so bitter... but sweet

The last thing
The only thing
I heard from you
Is the silent tweak
Of our door
When you closed it.

I'm tired of waiting
I'm tired of living and thinking
Of drinking and being
I'm tired of seeing you there,
of your smile that warms my life..
why was I cursed to meet you,
to have you, but not,
to sleep and dream,..
to only dream...
I'm tired of waiting
for something that is there
and not there at all,

To be cursed to care,
to watch your everystep
to guide you everywhere
how I wish you were never there
but I can't

Cause without you
I can't bear to be,..

My favorite.

Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.
____________________________

Lili wants us to have photos to go along with the poem.
But this is my road not taken:

http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b332/MatteoMatt/african-poverty.jpg

here's something i made sometime ago for my class portfolio. it had this poem so i thought, i might as well share it. :)

http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b300/ka_rl_08/raysales022.jpg

Sa Kasintahang Nilimot na
Benilda Santos

Ang totoo, ayaw na kitang makausap.
Nakaiinis kasi ang tawa mo sa telepono.
Lahat ng bagay pinagtatawanan mo -
kahit hindi nakatatawa
nagiging biro sa'yo.

Ayaw ko nang ganito.
Pakiramdam ko kasi may sakit ang tawa mo
at medyo takot akong mahawa pa
sa mikrobyong dala-dala mo.
Ayaw kong manghina pa
ang malusug-lusog nang
kaligayahan ko.

Ngunit alam ko:
makikipagkita pa rin ako sa iyo
alang-alang sa mga alaalang
nakapagpapabanal sa tao
at dahil alam kong
sa likod ng malalakas na halakhak,
ang totoo,
hihingan mo ako ng reseta
sa sakit mo.

Hindi mo alam,
wala na akong maibibigay
na anupamang gamot.
Ang umiibig pala ng tapat sa iba
nagigig maramot.

nakita ko lang ito sa blog ng isang kaibigan

Throwdown: Williams versus Bergmann

The Red Wheelbarrow
William Carlos Williams

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens.

An Apology
F.J. Bergmann

Forgive me
for backing over
and smashing
your red wheelbarrow.

It was raining
and the rear wiper
does not work on
my new plum-colored SUV.

I am also sorry
about the white
chickens.

i totally lab this po-em:

KAILAN
Roweine Claro

tanong ko sa iyo'y kailan
ako'y humihingi ng kasagutan
kailan pa?
kung ako'y matanda na?
ano ba? magsalita ka!!!
hindi ko na kaya...
ako'y nagmamakaawa....
kailan mo pa ba bubuksan ang pintuan???
matagal na akong naghihintay sa iyo....
please lang dinggin mo ako
buksan mo ang pintuan at
tatae na ako!!!....

^^ Where's the picture?

ay sorry, eto:


KAILAN
Roweine Claro

tanong ko sa iyo'y kailan
ako'y humihingi ng kasagutan
kailan pa?
kung ako'y matanda na?
ano ba? magsalita ka!!!
hindi ko na kaya...
ako'y nagmamakaawa....
kailan mo pa ba bubuksan ang pintuan???
matagal na akong naghihintay sa iyo....
please lang dinggin mo ako
buksan mo ang pintuan at
tatae na ako!!!....

http://i64.photobucket.com/albums/h189/c2russ/Love_on_a_Toilet_by_DaHa_by_DaHa.jpg

http://www.poetseers.org/the_poetseers/sri_chinmoy/library/selected/cloud

I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud

I WANDERED lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.



- William Wordsworth

http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/daffodilslake.jpg

in time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why,remember how

in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so(forgetting seem)

in time of roses(who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if,remember yes

in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek(forgetting find)

and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me,remember me


--e.e. cummings

Listen to Music: In Time of Daffodils (http://www.waltonmusic.com/Sound8/intime/)

http://i10.photobucket.com/albums/a137/ECdoesit/A-H-H04-Daffodils_med.jpg

This poem states that we can never truly forget something: that by forgetting it, we merely make its presence in our mind by making the effort to forget it. It's as though our minds do the opposite of what we intend them to do. "remember seek(forgetting find)" We tend to put more emphasis on seeking than in remembering where we may have lost whatever it was we were looking for. "and in a mystery to be / (when time from time shall set us free) / forgetting me,remember me" Cummings used a continuous concatenate phrase and rhyme in this stanza to emphasize, that try as hard for us to forget, we remember.

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a94/avenidalasalle/Skyscrapers/gang350.jpg


The Enchanted Kingdom
(in praise of Lawrence Ferlinghetti)


The rollercoaster ride beyond Midway
Was where they shouted their lungs out
Exhilaration so unreal
Ketchup and mayo smearing cheeks
As dogs were taken in with Mountain Dew

Time was flying that October afternoon

Til the next October
........................And the next
....................................And the next

The sands would quickly trickle down
To the bottom of the glass
And before his eyes
The baby was a lady

In a quick adieu,
The girl ran to her university
Indeed a different October

And while the tears were falling
...................................He cried
...............................................Too soon! Too soon!


:)

^^ Hey that is nice Lloyd! :)

Thanks @Lili. Just couldn't get my mind off the fact that one of these days, these kids will soon start off with a life of their own. It's one of those cases of "Before you know it......"

^ Oh yes. My father was reminiscing again after seeing the movie "Father of the Bride" and for goodness's sake I'm still there with him! :doh:

Oh I wouldn't want to think of "Father of the Bride" scenarios. I have about 10 years to prepare myself emotionally for the University scenario. It might take another 10 for me to get ready for an FOTB set-up.

I'm quite a sobber when it comes to these scenarios.

Your comment and the emoticon is funny ;)

Don't worry, maybe God isn't through with this guy He's set apart for you. To have him any sooner could spell disaster. (ewan ko ba ba't nasusulat ko ito. prophetic kaya?)

^^ Haha! Ilan beses mo na sinulat yan ha. I am not one to worry. Don't worry. :D

Ah, tumatanda lang ako siguro kaya naulit. Or perhaps it has just been a long day.

I guess I need to have my share of what these kids are getting :)
http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a94/avenidalasalle/Skyscrapers/gang150.jpg

Hasta la vista, @Lili. T'was nice getting to interact again after these long spells of having SSC being down.