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Poetry Corner, with leh snail
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| Sunsnail |
I'm usually not very fond of poetry, but this poem really left an impression on me.
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN THE SOUL
AND BODY
Andrew Marvell
Soul.
O, WHO shall from this dungeon raise
A soul enslaved so many ways ?
With bolts of bones, that fettered stands
In feet, and manacled in hands ;
Here blinded with an eye, and there
Deaf with the drumming of an ear ;
A soul hung up, as 'twere, in chains
Of nerves, and arteries, and veins ;
Tortured, besides each other part,
In a vain head, and double heart ?
Body.
O, who shall me deliver whole,
From bonds of this tyrannic soul ?
Which, stretched upright, impales me so
That mine own precipice I go ;
And warms and moves this needless frame,
(A fever could but do the same),
And, wanting where its spite to try,
Has made me live to let me die
A body that could never rest,
Since this ill spirit it possessed.
Soul.
What magic could me thus confine
Within another's grief to pine ?
Where, whatsoever it complain,
I feel, that cannot feel, the pain ;
And all my care itself employs,
That to preserve which me destroys ;
Constrained not only to endure
Diseases, but, what's worse, the cure ;
And, ready oft the port to gain,
Am shipwrecked into health again.
Body.
But Physic yet could never reach
The maladies thou me dost teach ;
Whom first the cramp of hope does tear,
And then the palsy shakes of fear ;
The pestilence of love does heat,
Or hatred's hidden ulcer eat ;
Joy's cheerful madness does perplex,
Or sorrow's other madness vex ;
Which knowledge forces me to know,
And memory will not forego ;
What but a soul could have the wit
To build me up for sin so fit ?
So architects do square and hew
Green trees that in the forest grew. |
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| Halcyon+On+On |
Yes, I am a total Lovecraft fag. Oh wellz.
Nathicana
by H. P. Lovecraft
It was in the pale garden of Zais;
The mist-shrouded gardens of Zais,
Where blossoms the white naphalot,
The redolent herald of midnight.
There slumber the still lakes of crystal,
And streamlets that flow without murm'ring;
Smooth streamlets from caverns of Kathos
Where broodth the calm spirits of twilight.
And over the lakes and the streamlets
Are bridges of pure alabaster,
White bridges all cunningly carven
With figures of fairies and daemons.
Here glimmer strange suns and strange planets,
And strange is the crescent Bnapis
That sets 'yong the ivy-grown ramparts
Where thicken the dusk of the evening.
Here fall the white vapours of Yabon;
And here in the swirl of vapours
I saw the divine Nathicana;
The garlanded, white Nathicana;
The slow-eyed, red-lipped Nathicana;
The silver-voiced, sweet Nathicana;
The plae-rob'd, belov'd Nathicana.
And ever was she my beloved,
From ages when time was unfashioned
Now anything fashion'd but Yabon.
And here dwelt we ever and ever,
The innocent children of Zais,
At peace in the paths and the arbours,
White-crowned with the blest nephalote.
How oft would we float in the twilight
O'er flow'r-cover'd pastures and hillsides
All white with the lowly astalthon;
The lowly yet lovely astalthon,
And dream in a world made of dreaming
The dreams that are fairer than Aidenn;
Bright dreams that are truer than reason!
So dreamed and so lov'd we thro' ages,
Till came the cursed season of Dzannin;
The daemon-damn'd season of Dzannin;
When red shone the suns and the planets,
And red leamed the crescent Banapis,
And red fell the vapours of Yabon.
Then redden'd the blossoms and streamlets
And lakes that lay under the bridges,
And even the calm alabaster
glowed pink with uncanny reflections
Till all the carv'd fairies and daemons
Leer'd redly from the backgrounds of shadow.
Now redden'd my vision, and madly
I strove to peer thro' the dense curtain
And glimpsed the divine Nathicana;
The pure, ever-pale Nathicana;
The lov'd, the unchang'd Nathicana.
But vortex on vortex of madness
Beclouded my labouring vision;
My damnable, reddening vision
That built a new world for my seeing;
Anew world of redness and darkness,
A horrible coma call'd living
So now in this come call'd living
I view the bright phantons of beauty;
The false hollow phantoms of beauty
That cloak all the evils of Dzannin.
I view them with infinite longing,
So like do they seem to my lov'd one:
Yet foul for their eyes shines their evil;
Their cruel and pitilessevil,
More evil than Thaphron and Latgoz,
Twice ill fro its gorgeous concealment.
And only in slumbers of midnight
Appears the lost maid Nathicana,
The pallid, the pure Nathicana
Who fades at the glance of the dreamer.
Again and again do I seek her;
I woo with deep draughts of Plathotis,
Deep draughts brew'd in wine of Astarte
And strengthen'd with tears of long weeping.
I yearn for the gardens of Zais;
The lovely, lost garden of Zais
Where blossoms the white nephalot,
The redolent herald of midnight.
The last potent draught am I brewing;
A draught that the daemons delight ih;
A drught that will banish the redness;
The horrible coma call'd living.
Soon, soon, if I fail not in brewing,
The redness and madness will vanish,
And deep in the worm-people'd darkness
Will rot the base chains that hav bound me.
Once more shall the gardens of Zais
Dawn white on my long-tortur'd vision,
Andthere midst the vapours of Yabon
Will stand the divine Nathicana;
The deathless, restor'd Nathicana
whose like is not met with in living. |
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| Spacey Orange |
| goddam you sunsnail. srsly. for the past week that i've been suspended i've longed to start a similar thread. i hate you. |
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| Sunsnail |
| Well feel free to post whatever poem you were planning on posting |
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| Spacey Orange |
it's too late.
***turns away quickly*** |
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| Akridrot |
| i want to read sad poems about rejection |
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| BTG |
Roses are red
violets are blue
all of my base
are belong to you. |
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| Lira |
| quote: | Originally posted by Akridrot
i want to read sad poems about rejection |
Oh, oh, she said no,
no mo love with dat ho.
Oh, oh, she said no,
so love is no mo! |
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| Provocative_boi |
All you ladies pop your like this
Shake your body, don't stop, don't miss
All you ladies pop your like this
Shake your body, don't stop, don't miss
Just do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now
Lick it good suck this , just like you should
Right now, Lick it good
suck this just like you should
My Neck, my back
Lick my and my crack,
My Neck, my back
Lick my and my crack
My Neck, my back
Lick my and my crack
My Neck, my back
Lick my and my crack
My Neck, my back
Lick my and my crack
First you gotta put your neck into it
Don't stop, just do, do it
Then you roll your tongue, from the crack back to the front
then suck it off til I shake and cum nigga
make sure I keep bustin nuts nigga
all over your face and suff
slow head show me so much love
the best head comes from a thug
the dick good dick is big and long
slow in til the crack of dawn
on the edge makin faces n suff
Through the night, making so much love
Then sleep when the sun comes up
So, lick it now, lick it good
Lick this just like you should
Right now, lick it good
Lick this just like you should
My Neck, my back
Lick my and my crack
My Neck, my back
Lick my and my crack
You might roll dubs, you might have G's
But that nigga, get on your knees
A bitch like me moans and screams
Thug misses know what I mean
At the club so fresh, so clean
Hoes hatin' niggas watchin' me
So hot in the line, so clean
With a unit on my face, so mean
I gotta pick which nigga I need
to suck a thug nigga satisfy me
Try me nigga I'll make you see
them bitches aint go on me
So, lick it now, lick it good
Lick this just like you should
Right now, lick it good
Lick this just like you should
My Neck, my back
Lick my and my crack
My Neck, my back
Lick my and my crack
So, lick it now, lick it good
Suck this just like you should
Right now, lick it good
Suck this just like you should
My Neck, my back
Lick my and my crack
My Neck, my back
Lick my and my crack |
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| nchs09 |
i wrote a poem ages ago... had to dig up an email from 2003 to get it :nervous:
Ojala el amor fuese como un poema
De aquellos que Neruda escribía
Ojala el amor fuese como un poema
Y no como una horrible pesadilla
Ojala el amor fuese como el futuro
Tan brillante como el oro mas puro
Ojala el amor fuese como el futuro
Y no como el pasado tan oscuro
Ojala el amor fuese como la primavera
Que inspira con su enorme belleza
Ojala el amor fuese como la primavera
Y no tan agónico como mi tristeza
A mi flanco izquierdo
Ese afilafe parece vivo
Y parece que me as reprobado
En un día tan infausto
A un eterno vacío |
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| squirrelly |
fags. :rolleyes:
:p |
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