✾ Poetry ✾

Discussion in 'Games, Jokes, and Fun!' started by Frindizzle, Jan 31, 2015.

  1. No, I only like to read them.

    1 vote(s)
  2. Yes, I write them!

    3 vote(s)
  1. Frindizzle

    Frindizzle Guitar Girl <3

    Hello, everyone!

    This is a thread for all Poetry Lovers. Post your one of your favorite poems or one you written yourself. Enjoy!

    Here is one of my favorites. ​

    When I see birches bend to left and right
    Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
    I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
    But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay.
    Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
    Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
    After a rain. They click upon themselves
    As the breeze rises, and turn many-coloured
    As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
    Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells
    Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust
    Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
    You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
    They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
    And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
    So low for long, they never right themselves:
    You may see their trunks arching in the woods
    Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground,
    Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
    Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
    But I was going to say when Truth broke in
    With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm,
    I should prefer to have some boy bend them
    As he went out and in to fetch the cows-
    Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
    Whose only play was what he found himself,
    Summer or winter, and could play alone.
    One by one he subdued his father's trees
    By riding them down over and over again
    Until he took the stiffness out of them,
    And not one but hung limp, not one was left
    For him to conquer. He learned all there was
    To learn about not launching out too soon
    And so not carrying the tree away
    Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
    To the top branches, climbing carefully
    With the same pains you use to fill a cup
    Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
    Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
    Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
    So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
    And so I dream of going back to be.
    It's when I'm weary of considerations,
    And life is too much like a pathless wood
    Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
    Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
    From a twig's having lashed across it open.
    I'd like to get away from earth awhile
    And then come back to it and begin over.
    May no fate willfully misunderstand me
    And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
    Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
    I don't know where it's likely to go better.
    I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree
    And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
    Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
    But dipped its top and set me down again.
    That would be good both going and coming back.
    One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
    Last edited: Mar 13, 2015
  2. Frindizzle

    Frindizzle Guitar Girl <3

    Here is another I love.

    Song of Nature

    Mine are the night and morning,
    The pits of air, the gulf of space,
    The sportive sun, the gibbous moon,
    The innumerable days.

    I hid in the solar glory,
    I am dumb in the pealing song,
    I rest on the pitch of the torrent,
    In slumber I am strong.

    No numbers have counted my tallies,
    No tribes my house can fill,
    I sit by the shining Fount of Life,
    And pour the deluge still;

    And ever by delicate powers
    Gathering along the centuries
    From race on race the rarest flowers,
    My wreath shall nothing miss.

    And many a thousand summers
    My apples ripened well,
    And light from meliorating stars
    With firmer glory fell.

    I wrote the past in characters
    Of rock and fire the scroll,
    The building in the coral sea,
    The planting of the coal.

    And thefts from satellites and rings
    And broken stars I drew,
    And out of spent and aged things
    I formed the world anew;

    What time the gods kept carnival,
    Tricked out in star and flower,
    And in cramp elf and saurian forms
    They swathed their too much power.

    Time and Thought were my surveyors,
    They laid their courses well,
    They boiled the sea, and baked the layers
    Or granite, marl, and shell.

    But he, the man-child glorious,--
    Where tarries he the while?
    The rainbow shines his harbinger,
    The sunset gleams his smile.

    My boreal lights leap upward,
    Forthright my planets roll,
    And still the man-child is not born,
    The summit of the whole.

    Must time and tide forever run?
    Will never my winds go sleep in the west?
    Will never my wheels which whirl the sun
    And satellites have rest?

    Too much of donning and doffing,
    Too slow the rainbow fades,
    I weary of my robe of snow,
    My leaves and my cascades;

    I tire of globes and races,
    Too long the game is played;
    What without him is summer's pomp,
    Or winter's frozen shade?

    I travail in pain for him,
    My creatures travail and wait;
    His couriers come by squadrons,
    He comes not to the gate.

    Twice I have moulded an image,
    And thrice outstretched my hand,
    Made one of day, and one of night,
    And one of the salt sea-sand.

    One in a Judaean manger,
    And one by Avon stream,
    One over against the mouths of Nile,
    And one in the Academe.

    I moulded kings and saviours,
    And bards o'er kings to rule;--
    But fell the starry influence short,
    The cup was never full.

    Yet whirl the glowing wheels once more,
    And mix the bowl again;
    Seethe, fate! the ancient elements,
    Heat, cold, wet, dry, and peace, and pain.

    Let war and trade and creeds and song
    Blend, ripen race on race,
    The sunburnt world a man shall breed
    Of all the zones, and countless days.

    No ray is dimmed, no atom worn,
    My oldest force is good as new,
    And the fresh rose on yonder thorn
    Gives back the bending heavens in dew.

    - Ralph Waldo Emerson
  3. FlyingDoughnut

    FlyingDoughnut Songster

    Jun 18, 2013
    green, yellow, orange, red
    the colors of trees are nice
    so love nature now
    (that's a haiku that i just made :p less than 5 minutes to make)
  4. Frindizzle

    Frindizzle Guitar Girl <3

    Cool. ;-)
  5. FlyingDoughnut

    FlyingDoughnut Songster

    Jun 18, 2013
    haiku's are easy
    but sometime's they don't make sense

    (i didn't make that one)
  6. Frindizzle

    Frindizzle Guitar Girl <3

    (It's funny! :D)
  7. I would post one of mine but then BYC would have the right to use it.
    This is one of my favorites from JRR Tolkien

    The Drinking Song

    Ho! Ho! Ho! To the bottle I go
    To heal my heart and drown my woe.
    Rain may fall and wind may blow,
    And many miles be still to go
    But under a tall tree I will lie,
    And let the clouds go sailing by.
  8. Frindizzle

    Frindizzle Guitar Girl <3

    I knew that you would find this thread.[​IMG] Cool poem!
  9. Here is a haiku,
    My chickens are nice,
    They don't lay much eggs though,
    I will not eat them
  10. Frindizzle

    Frindizzle Guitar Girl <3

    I was looking for chicken Haiku's, and I couldn't find any! Did you make it up?

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