Page 2 of 25 FirstFirst 123456712 ... LastLast
Results 16 to 30 of 362

Thread: Your Favorite Poems from fellow Lit-Netters

  1. #16
    Something's gotta give PrinceMyshkin's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2007
    Location
    Montreal, QC
    Posts
    8,746
    Blog Entries
    1
    Quote Originally Posted by Adolescent09 View Post
    Hello everyone and thank you for taking the time to view this..
    What a generous soul you are - and a true lover of poetry. I haven't been on this site all that long so without this thread I might have missed some of the earlier poems, amongst which I was espcially grateful for the ones by Countess, Lilly Adams and Jon1jt... Thanks
    "You must be the change you want to see in the world." Gandhi

  2. #17
    Ditsy Pixie Niamh's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2006
    Location
    Marino, Dublin, Ireland
    Posts
    14,243
    Blog Entries
    118
    i think this thread should be stickied before it vanishes into the inner abyss of personal poetry!
    "Come away O human child!To the waters of the wild, With a faery hand in hand, For the worlds more full of weeping than you can understand."
    W.B.Yeats

    "If it looks like a Dwarf and smells like a Dwarf, then it's probably a Dwarf (or a latrine wearing dungarees)"
    Artemins Fowl and the Lost Colony by Eoin Colfer


    my poems-please comment Forum Rules

  3. #18
    Left 4evr Adolescent09's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2006
    Posts
    1,384
    Blog Entries
    14
    Quote Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin View Post
    What a generous soul you are - and a true lover of poetry. I haven't been on this site all that long so without this thread I might have missed some of the earlier poems, amongst which I was espcially grateful for the ones by Countess, Lilly Adams and Jon1jt... Thanks
    Thank you, Prince. Unfortunately my topics always tend to die very quickly. I guess this attempt to bring up some unique poetry failed.

    But thanks for all who posted..
    My hide hides the heart inside

  4. #19
    Live. Be. Sing. symphony's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Location
    Currently Toronto
    Posts
    2,468
    Quote Originally Posted by Niamh View Post
    i think this thread should be stickied before it vanishes into the inner abyss of personal poetry!
    couldnt agree more!

    Great idea, Adol.

    I'll post in some of my favorites now, but since i havent read many and am hardly familier with all the great works hidden in this "abyss", i wish to post again, and perhaps again, in this same thread.


    First, Self Portrait by Virgil, cant miss this one!!
    Self Portrait

    The pencil shadows the face,
    Rounds the head into a sketch,
    The dark hair, the thin lips,
    Features of a Roman bust,
    Tied through DNA,
    The blood at Cannae, victory at Zama...

    What blood, what victory?
    Does the mirror lie?
    The face, fattened and graying,
    Has never confronted a bayonet
    Not even saddled arms upon the back
    Or paraded upon a field.

    Perhaps then the reflection is not a sketch,
    After all, perhaps a schiacciato
    From the Quattrocento,
    Links of DNA reach there as well.

    That figure on the left,
    In sacre conversione,
    That St. Francis figure,
    Draped in rags with a skull cap,
    Resembles the artist, touches and
    Sooths hounds with upraised palms.

    But St. Francis was a pauper
    Passing up his coat to indigents.
    What starveling life has pressed
    Upon this face? You sip
    Cabernet every night and
    Whine about your taxes.

    Possibly then this countenance
    Could fit as a bronze head
    Upon a majestic stallion,
    A cavalry man, a statesman,
    A gattamelata of Donatello?

    What? Calvary, horse?
    Don’t mind the saddle sores,
    Statesman with a shriek,
    More like un gatto malato
    Sleeping on a chair.

    The glass now shatters
    Into composite fractions.

    An irascible son
    De quello paise d’o sole,
    Narcissistic husband,
    Abbraciatta with my honey pear,
    Stoic and spoiled, lustful and laughing,
    Adopted citizen and patriot,
    Flourishing the flag,
    Inseminating the garden,
    Eagle and oriole from Brooklyn.


    Dutiful and sinner,
    Pius and pagan,
    The caress of family on one’s back,
    Petulant engineer, cleanly shaven,
    Combative tactician, with that mustache,
    A writer with eyes.

    Does one have to crawl
    Through Purgatory to bring
    Oneself into syncretic form?
    Then Jon1jt's Along a Pathless Wood:

    | Deleted by request of author |


    and loved Ampoule's and MotherH's last poem. (cant copy right now, will hv to go back and everything...)

    I'm yet to dive into the depths of this rich section, still lurking on the surfaces, but soon...soon now...
    Last edited by symphony; 07-10-2007 at 06:03 AM.
    .
    ...the smell of flowers through metal labyrinths.

  5. #20
    Vincit Qui Se Vincit Virgil's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2005
    Location
    New York
    Posts
    20,355
    Blog Entries
    248
    Thank you Symphony for picking one of my poems.

    I always adore most poems by Riesa. I have called her on occaision the Poet Laureate of lit net. Here is one that stands out.

    El Dragon Rojo
    by Riesa

    Stepping over a half-dead Mexican
    with a gash in his skull,
    we climbed the beer-slimed
    steps with our gringo-go-ahead
    through gleaming sideways looks,
    Josés and Jorges on their
    fifth Reposada greeting us
    with oye!'s and shifty grins
    As we headed towards the balcony
    where others,
    tired of whistle blowing servers
    pouring poppers down virgin throats
    drank cold limón beers on a Tijuana tweak.

    Joel, with choirboy lips quoting
    Dylan’s Tarantula while she’s off getting
    beers and a round of shots,
    gets drunk enough to ooze
    secret pouts and lecherous sizzle
    in my direction,
    My fury fueling fiery laughter
    and Amy back again with confused loyalty:
    “Aren’t all poets deranged anyway!” she professed,
    hardly lifting her starry eyes as I left them to their
    Mexican night.

    It’s true, I did take slow
    enjoyment in novel thoughts,
    and had a wildness buried beneath
    a Christian-school upbringing
    that poetry unearthed, but
    his crooked coffee-bar look
    and deviant intensity
    gratified her in a way
    I couldn’t touch.

    I recall
    out walking on a winter beach -
    she invented a boy-man with an adventurous soul
    and a fondness for cats and fine wine, with a touch
    of enigma to him, just to keep it interesting;

    But that summer,
    instead of going home
    to blueberry farms
    and clam-chowder air
    she followed him to a transient hotel,
    where the two of them lived on
    greasy-spoon eggs
    and Colt 45,
    her wrapping paper dream
    distorted to brown-bag reality of
    thrown whiskey bottles,
    eggshell silence
    and day old coffee
    With ashes in it.

    Last we heard he was in a Florida jail
    for battering his pregnant wife;
    and Amy’s number’s unlisted now,
    but she owns a couple of tough tomcats
    with Mafioso names,
    and there is a man who,
    like the shine of gentle rays
    softened with sweet morning mist
    cherishes her Olympia blue eyes - eyes that are
    clear now, except for that slash of amber
    that wasn’t there
    that night at El Dragon Rojo.
    LET THERE BE LIGHT

    "Love follows knowledge." – St. Catherine of Siena

    My literature blog: http://ashesfromburntroses.blogspot.com/

  6. #21
    Something's gotta give PrinceMyshkin's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2007
    Location
    Montreal, QC
    Posts
    8,746
    Blog Entries
    1
    Quote Originally Posted by Virgil View Post
    Thank you Symphony for picking one of my poems.

    I always adore most poems by Riesa. I have called her on occaision the Poet Laureate of lit net. Here is one that stands out.
    WOW! God bless you for bringing that one to our attention! - and God bless you, Reisa, for writing it!!

  7. #22
    Not politically correct Pendragon's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2005
    Location
    Blue Ridge Mountains, SW VA
    Posts
    21,240
    Blog Entries
    133

    Smile

    A few more:

    From Prince M.

    Sudden Proclamations

    for Ed and Lesley Pechter

    Let's not haggle over madness.
    The seed will grow up
    or down, as it pleases.
    The heart of calamity's not there
    but in waiting for that stranger
    who is here, already waiting.

    Clasp hands and come to the mountain,
    you've planned to say to her
    (the female to your male half-nature),
    Bring mustard seed, and salt wine.


    A pinch of craziness
    salts the brain
    and brings up the flavour of it.
    You've been tasting it, alone
    and bland, until you want to go mad,
    but only love will give permission for that,
    the heart making mischief, lop-
    sided dancing with destiny.


    If she were to come (at last
    and at last!) you'd speak to her
    with the thoroughly reckless wit
    of the formerly hopeful in love,
    who've almost resigned themselves
    to baking biscuits and winter bread.

    Kings (you'd pronounce), have suffered
    Because of the lack of love,
    And queens
    Have issued sudden proclamations.
    To wit:
    Gather the nursemaids
    Of sorrow, the seven ladies of grief
    And their hand-maidens, Lust
    And Double Tongue and
    Seeming Innocence, and all the others.

    Bind up their tongues with bitter
    Spice and lay sharp poultices
    Against their eyes. I am going down
    Where none of you can attend me
    To find the bright, false heart
    Implanted in me long ago
    And root out suffering.


    I, the Queen, hereby declare:
    The Queen shall suffer no more.

    The Queen shall suffer no more.



    J. Newman Sudden Proclamations © 1992


    From Firefangled:

    Independence Day — Bixby Bridge

    -for Carol


    What fear hides in our skin has no faith in steel or design.

    Through years it moves like water colors in rain,
    mingles itself in moonlight, and gravity has its way,
    pulling us into the dream where we have no wings.

    And then there is the retrofit crew, the rusted plates
    that bark like some ancient dog as the car passes over them,
    a blessing in a way, drowning the Pacific waves
    that sound so much like rushing air or the last whispers
    of the day as we fall into sleep, hiding in the ear
    like the ocean in a shell, the dark closet of falling.

    Below the magnificence of the coast is a postcard,
    but strength does not come from the book of splendor,
    it is the breath of independence that takes in the world
    and floats the blue palette of the sea in your open eyes.

    Firefangled


    AndyDio's winner from the last Picture Poetry Contest:

    In this Blood

    In this blood is the power of the eagle
    majestic and strong.
    The beauty of the sun
    glinting off gold tipped wings
    as he turns to the sky;
    so he was chosen.

    In this blood
    is the all seeing eyes of the
    owl and the falcon
    by day seeing the smallest mouse
    scurrying through the brush
    hundreds of yards away.
    By night not the slightest detail goes by unseen;
    so he was chosen.

    In this blood
    is the hunter in both
    attacking prey and protecting.
    Killing all enemies in his path.
    A quick and silent death
    awaits those who oppose him;
    so he was chosen.

    In this blood
    is the beauty of the bluebird,
    whose wings spread out in protection
    over speckled blue eggs
    and whose song fills the empty air,
    and rejoices over triumphs;
    so he was chosen.

    In this blood
    is the humbleness of the sparrow,
    simple and lowly,
    but fast and intelligent.
    In this blood
    is the peace of a hundred doves.
    Taking flight and
    ready to spread peace
    to all around;
    so he was chosen.

    And he was chosen
    to lead his flock
    to bring strength, power
    beauty, and peace to his people
    He is The Chosen One
    so he will lead
    So he was chosen

    AdoreroDio


    Such great poets we have! A Best of the LitNet Poets Chapbook would be interesting!

    Some of us laugh
    Some of us cry
    Some of us smoke
    Some of us lie
    But it's all just the way
    that we cope with our lives...

  8. #23
    Live. Be. Sing. symphony's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2007
    Location
    Currently Toronto
    Posts
    2,468
    Quote Originally Posted by Pendragon View Post

    Such great poets we have! A Best of the LitNet Poets Chapbook would be interesting!
    Once again- couldnt agree more!
    .
    ...the smell of flowers through metal labyrinths.

  9. #24
    Springing Riesa's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2005
    Location
    at the start of some hill or another
    Posts
    6,710
    Blog Entries
    23
    Quote Originally Posted by Virgil View Post
    I always adore most poems by Riesa. I have called her on occaision the Poet Laureate of lit net. Here is one that stands out.

    Hey! believe me when I say I just came here to post these of yours Virg, swear. thanks so much for your ever kind words. and I dig the new signature!!! (looks familiar)

    Virgil's:

    A Desert In The Heart

    Through sage brush and ironwood
    Brown dust floats so fine it seems
    The entire moon’s dirt has been
    Transplanted to this flat plane
    Of sun and dry wind.

    Sunset brings relief.
    A man settles beneath
    A canopied enclave with cold drink
    With dust powdered on his jeans
    Face burnt from day’s labor.

    She amazingly replied,
    But asked him not to.
    “Why should she have the last word?”
    He thought to himself,
    Chapped lips recalling
    Feminine mouth and breath.

    Well, she was the woman,
    And deserved that honor.

    He decided to have a scotch.
    No rocks, straight up.
    It tasted good,
    But it did not change anything.

    He fixed himself another,
    Dark-brown bite
    Like a scorpion’s sting.
    and my all time favorite of Virgil's based on Dali's Jesus painting:

    The Rivet

    A thunderous evening and the last moments of human marrow.
    This is the moment that life severs to spirit,
    That timber crosses to pole,
    When positive and negative lose static opposition.
    As the earth spins in perpetual motion
    It spins along the axis of this cross,
    Along the axis of this body, poor and beaten.
    I am the mandrel of this world,
    The cosmic rivet of all that is stone and mineral and gas;
    The universe here is concentered.
    Can corporeality end this way, so notorious,
    So lapsed of bowel movements,
    And flowing of fluids,
    Not even to have the dignity of recumbence?
    Soon, forty days or so, another transfiguration,
    To wheat, to vineyard, to an aroused rose,
    Proud and red and facing the sky.
    Endemic to all, having been burned into flesh,
    And ripped out of flesh,
    What thoughts to raise? The two halves of this cross?
    What words to say as one breaks from this?
    Insuperable, solicitous, metabolous.

    And what then? To circle back to life?
    In passing out this bread and wine
    The spinning world returns to where it began.
    To return to the sea and hook once more,
    The camaraderie of line and tackle,
    Of fish and water, of flesh and blood?
    No, the flesh is gone, but the rivet remains.
    The spinning earth, the expanding universe,
    The hills are fixed to earth.
    those last two lines always slay me.
    "Don't matter who they are, anybody sets foot in this house, they are company and don't let me catch you remarking on their ways like you were so high and mighty."

  10. #25
    Springing Riesa's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2005
    Location
    at the start of some hill or another
    Posts
    6,710
    Blog Entries
    23
    and this:

    My Own Seams


    I walk further into my mind's darkness,
    seeking refuge from duty, from life.

    Give me time to recollect my being.
    I need to piece my own quilt.

    Upon completion, I will present myself to you,
    not to be hung and admired
    but to be a covering,
    the warmth that you yearn for.

    I will warm you.
    But first I must bind my own seams.

    (c)2007 Susan Sonnen
    "Don't matter who they are, anybody sets foot in this house, they are company and don't let me catch you remarking on their ways like you were so high and mighty."

  11. #26
    Something's gotta give PrinceMyshkin's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2007
    Location
    Montreal, QC
    Posts
    8,746
    Blog Entries
    1
    One I just came across in "And the word is"

    Quote Originally Posted by ampoule View Post
    Sinful Desires

    He stood behind the counter, flashing his tricky smile.
    "What can I get for you today?"
    Thirty years later, she swallowed, and answered him.
    She stood there like her great aunt Maude, starched and priggish,
    "Your samples, please, I would like to see your samples."
    Another smile, "But, of course."
    She watched, without looking, as he knelt to gather a gadget-filled box.
    When he arose she was saying something about supple knees,
    But it was far back, behind her breath, behind her real thoughts.
    Holding her pocketbook, she leaned slightly forward, "May I see? Can you place them on the counter here for me?"
    His smile was different now, not from the bother, but from the care.
    He watched her face as he carefully placed each fragile sample in front of her.
    No sound left her mouth.
    No expression changed her face,
    But he was sure he saw her eyes well-up and the breathing in her chest stop.
    He continued his explanations, his expert salesmanship.
    She watched as he hovered over one exquisite piece and the nuance of his fingers made her say, "That one........yes, that one. I will take that one please."
    "Let me wrap it for you."
    When he returned, she had all of the bills straightened, all of the coins stacked in perfect order.
    As he took the final payment from her, he could not help himself.
    He touched her finger so very, very slightly.
    She did not withdraw it like he thought she would,
    But slowly, she gathered her bundle and said thank you.
    "Thank YOU," he replied.
    Not wanting her to go he quickly said, "Is there anything else?"
    "No, not really." And thirty years later she said,
    "I must rush home now and think about this."

  12. #27
    veni vidi vixi Bakiryu's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2007
    Location
    Rolling and tumbling
    Posts
    5,398
    Blog Entries
    1
    I love my dead poem by Pendragon:

    Song rang through the prison camp this dawn—
    And it wasn’t a Bohemian Rhapsody—
    “I’m in fear for my life from the long arm of the law—
    “Momma I hear them a comin’ for me.”
    Dressed all in black with her hair dyed white—
    She sat there proud in that crude little cell.
    The guard said “It’s time.” She nodded. “All right.”
    “Any last words before we send you to hell?”
    She stood there proud, and she scorned them with her eyes,
    “I stood up for the things in which I believe.
    “I’m about to show you all how a true hero can die,
    “Because you’ll have to kill me to make me bow my knees!”
    The machine-guns fired like thunder from God’s very throne:
    And the Angels came and took another Ninja Warrior home…
    Shall these bones live?

  13. #28
    Registered User the silent x's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2007
    Location
    Beverly Hills, MI
    Posts
    616
    thanks ryu for nominating me, i haven't seen this thread or i would have posted sooner
    life philosophy: "if one wants to succeed, they must become independent, if one wants to be independent, one must strive past the dificulties, using them to shape future desicions, like a sword being folded, every fold is a hardship overcome, and every fold removes one more imperfection that would destroy the completed version"

    # of 1st Dans, Black Belts achieved- 2 (1 Hapkido, Sun Moo Kwan), (1 Tae Kwon Do)

  14. #29
    veni vidi vixi Bakiryu's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2007
    Location
    Rolling and tumbling
    Posts
    5,398
    Blog Entries
    1
    You welcome, I loved your poem, so angsty!
    Shall these bones live?

  15. #30
    Ruadh gu brath ampoule's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2007
    Location
    From the mountains to the prairies to the oceans white with foam
    Posts
    2,742
    Blog Entries
    67
    Oh my gosh, Prince. Thank you SOOOO much! You surprised me!

Page 2 of 25 FirstFirst 123456712 ... LastLast

Similar Threads

  1. Favorite poem?
    By mike401 in forum Poems, Poets, and Poetry
    Replies: 716
    Last Post: 03-27-2018, 09:34 AM
  2. Which is your most favorite and least favorite language?
    By Fisherwoman in forum General Chat
    Replies: 73
    Last Post: 08-01-2013, 03:03 AM
  3. My Poems: anti-war, light verse, and about poetry.
    By SteveH in forum Personal Poetry
    Replies: 8
    Last Post: 05-22-2007, 05:49 AM
  4. Favorite Poems....
    By lukkiseven in forum Poems, Poets, and Poetry
    Replies: 12
    Last Post: 12-06-2006, 03:00 PM

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •