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Is Poetry a Dead Art? (Part 4)


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Old 25-04-2015, 02:20
archiver
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Don't Take The Word Of A Bird.

A little bird told me what you did.
It sang sweet songs and then it hid
beyond the view of my young eyes.
I didn't believe its lies.

It's plumage was a striking blue
and as it moved it changed hue
and sparkled with a touch of dew
as if to enhance the clue.

It told me I could not fly,
or sing, and I will soon die.
It said not a word of this,
but death is quite simply bliss.

Such a silly thing to say.
I knew it would fly away
and birds never live for long.
Then yesterday I heard its song.

"Not long now John" Cursed bird.
Megaphonic word for word.
I leaned out and threw a stone
and shouted "Leave me alone!".
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Old 29-04-2015, 08:44
scottie2121
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Connect

The rhythm of the waves, as they rise and fall onto the beach,
beats the sand with the life-giving pulse of the sea.
The cycle of ebb and flow washes over a scurry
of life, the tide dragging up what was once out of reach.
The breath of the wind: a whisper of echoes of time.
The touch of the wind: a brush on the shoulder, a kiss,
a push, the gentle touch of a lover’s caress.
Look out over the water and see where life first climbed
out into the gravitational pull of this Earth.
Breathe out, breathe in, take in the taste of time
in the salty spray, a mist eternal, so fine,
a lunar harvest for a Godly curse.
And you wipe your eyes as the salted teardrops run,
each a white moon falling one by one by one.
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Old 29-04-2015, 15:19
mr. mustard
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Thanks Musty sending a little love your way
Ta Sandy - love's complicated and the poem I'm about to post is true

I'm looking forward to reading all the new material on my next visit
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Old 29-04-2015, 15:25
mr. mustard
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Love Song for a Friend

She walked among the people
And people loved her so
But inside she would keep all
The pain they'd never know.

It seems she chose a cruel one
Who made her sad and blue,
Who wanted just to rule one
And have his own way too.

She gave a pleasant greeting
To me, I don't know why,
Most company is fleeting
For someone who's this shy.

In pubs we're cured by laughter,
Discussing every band,
I didn't dream that after
She'd ever hold my hand.

Alone, I am a steeple
And life's a mystery;
She walked among the people
And found her way to me.


©
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Old 29-04-2015, 15:31
mr. mustard
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Oh, OK then, if you insist.
Insist I do John - to keep smiling and writing is good advice

BB's sparrow poem looks good, I shall catch up and comment on everything in the next few days
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Old 29-04-2015, 15:33
mr. mustard
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Hey, we made 90,000 posts again - not bad for a thread on poetry
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Old 29-04-2015, 17:43
sandydune
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Originally Posted by mr. mustard
Love Song for a Friend


Musty, like your poem and your friends are lucky to have your pleasant company.

A friendship is like a boat, keeps those near the sides afloat.
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Old 30-04-2015, 12:33
belly button
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A rhyme in reflection of a thread hotly debated.

Whistling Wolf

Consider the person you seek to appraise
With your howling and calling which you think shows your praise
Do you know what they are feeling
Can you say that you care
They may well be frightened
Is it right that you scare ?

Look at your motives are you trying to make friends
Could you say you respect them
Or a means to your ends
Of showing the world what a big fish you are
In your own little pond where you think your the star


And when you are challenged do you feel like the preys
Of a wolf in sheep’s clothing
See it works out both ways
Standing up for what’s right is not only for others
Shows the coming together of sisters and brothers.
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Old 01-05-2015, 21:13
sandydune
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Originally Posted by mr. mustard
Hey, we made 90,000 posts again - not bad for a thread on poetry
Jolly good
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Old 01-05-2015, 21:16
sandydune
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Originally Posted by scottie2121
Connect

The rhythm of the waves, as they rise and fall onto the beach,
beats the sand with the life-giving pulse of the sea.
The cycle of ebb and flow washes over a scurry
of life, the tide dragging up what was once out of reach.
The breath of the wind: a whisper of echoes of time.
The touch of the wind: a brush on the shoulder, a kiss,
a push, the gentle touch of a lover’s caress.
Look out over the water and see where life first climbed
out into the gravitational pull of this Earth.
Breathe out, breathe in, take in the taste of time
in the salty spray, a mist eternal, so fine,
a lunar harvest for a Godly curse.
And you wipe your eyes as the salted teardrops run,
each a white moon falling one by one by one.
Good poem scottie2121, some words travel so far.
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Old 04-05-2015, 21:52
IzzyS
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The power of acknowledgement,
the freedom of acceptance -
these are potent gifts indeed,
ones which enrich the soul,
through and through.

Such reminders, like wise old elders,
re-assert that we have a right,
to be ourselves,
that we are not a figment
of our own perceived reality,
our imagination doesn't make us up -
here we are and as quiet and unnoticed as we may feel,
deep inside,
the truth may not be what eats you up.

Have faith, for as mentioned, all is not as it seems,
your mind may think many things
but this in itself doesn't make them true...
so think, question and wonder,
challenge yourself and moreso
ask yourself,
regarding those you look up to, care for or about -
what bothers you, what you presume they think,
is any of it actually true?.
Think. Learn.


You may very well be unnecessarily chastising yourself,
certain of your fate, to be in the background forevermore,
as you question - who would notice, or take seriously, someone like me,
really, I must be delusional, so you tell yourself.

It is not so, only if you allow yourself to see,
through the smallest of interactions, finding the right people,
those few words of acknowledgement, acceptance, compassion,
that which you did not believe,
can show you the truth, can re-assure, make you feel noticed,
in time your eyes may well be opened,
to the truth you had not realised,
dare not believe!.

So, what is my message to you today?.
Its something very basic,
simple indeed
and can be summed up in a few words -
Be kind to yourself. Don't believe all you think right away
and one day, you may be surprised, by what your told,
and all that it means to you.
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Old 06-05-2015, 10:25
mr. mustard
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Musty, like your poem and your friends are lucky to have your pleasant company.
Thank you Sandy

I like your boat ditty too
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Old 06-05-2015, 10:31
mr. mustard
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Be kind to yourself. Don't believe all you think right away
A gorgeous and thoughtful poem (as always) from you Izzy I'll have to read this one again, as I found it so multi-layered. But 'be kind to yourself' is something it took me many years to learn and is a lovely forthright message.

A superb and complex write
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Old 06-05-2015, 10:36
IzzyS
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A gorgeous and thoughtful poem (as always) from you Izzy I'll have to read this one again, as I found it so multi-layered. But 'be kind to yourself' is something it took me many years to learn and is a lovely forthright message.

A superb and complex write
Thanks Musty
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Old 06-05-2015, 10:37
mr. mustard
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Excellent BB! If this concerns the recent case I read about, I felt so sorry for the girl One idiot even blocked her path as she tried to walk through. Whatever the rights and wrongs of wolf-whistling are, there's no excuse for bullying anyone. I'm glad the company took action (I think) and she was a very brave girl.

Great poem too by the way
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Old 06-05-2015, 10:48
mr. mustard
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Poor Archie the Trumper isn't next to Charles Manson is he ?
No BB Actually, one of the problems of working out the running order is not having too many identical rhythms together. That and not having too many similar subjects close to each other.

My running order is influenced by The Beatles. For example, on Revolver, the jollity of Yellow Submarine is followed by John's dark and disturbing She Said She Said - an acid nightmare of a song.

I had a sleepless night last night and dug out the unicorn poem at two in the morning I'll post it next time
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Old 06-05-2015, 10:56
mr. mustard
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Thanks Musty sending a little love your way
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Old 06-05-2015, 11:00
mr. mustard
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And you wipe your eyes as the salted teardrops run,
each a white moon falling one by one by one.
I don't usually bang the drum - but this thread is so good

What a brilliant, brilliant poem! If Scottie hasn't been published, he should be soon in my opinion. I stood watching the mystic pull of the tides for a while thanks to him
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Old 06-05-2015, 11:05
mr. mustard
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'Life...is..just...a Box...of...Football' (American drawl)
I wasn't sure if this was about American football BB Either way, I love the British version, but I can't understand blokes who take it too seriously
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Old 06-05-2015, 11:09
mr. mustard
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Don't Take The Word Of A Bird
I wrote a poem about a crow who carried a deathly message John They do seem to be harbingers of doom in literature, I blame it on Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven

An interesting write and I hope the stone missed
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Old 06-05-2015, 11:21
mr. mustard
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There's still a few poems I haven't caught up on yet - the sparrow and robin ones included. Next time I'll read and respond to those pending.

The Charles Manson poem now stands at 38 verses! By far the longest poem in the book, it should make it an even bigger tome. A terrible, terrible subject but one that I feel must be covered. Without humanity's sheer cruelty, its finer instincts could become meaningless. The slaughter of innocents can never be justified though. I don't think we'll ever gain Utopia, just a world where sh*t happens and people can be wicked. The trick is, trying to stay positive.

Till next time my friends
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Old 06-05-2015, 19:11
belly button
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I had a sleepless night last night and dug out the unicorn poem at two in the morning I'll post it next time
Awwww, how thoughtful. Sleep well tonight
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Old 06-05-2015, 20:53
archiver
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I wrote a poem about a crow who carried a deathly message John They do seem to be harbingers of doom in literature, I blame it on Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven
It was those mynah birds on Huxley's Island screeching “Here and now! Here and now!” which I remember most.

There's a blackbird round here which really sounds to me like it's singing "Watch the birdie!"

An interesting write and I hope the stone missed
Thanks. My aim is not good and I would miss it if I hadn't missed it.
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Old 08-05-2015, 00:51
archiver
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Rotty.

Silly Scottie
went a bit potty
teaching kids to pray.
Along came archiver
an older subscriber
and frightened poor Scottie away.

Love and emotion
trumps devotion
any time of day.
Picking the bones
of great unknowns
spoils beautiful play.

Leave the children alone
you pitiful clone
you dealer in bad ties.
They will be fine
without your line
all knotted with big lies.
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Old 08-05-2015, 09:06
scottie2121
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I'm clearly your muse, Archie.
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