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Is Poetry a Dead Art? (Part 4) |
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#2701 |
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Join Date: May 2006
Location: Scotland
Posts: 9,318
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Trees by IzzyS.
Trees tall and slender
sway gracefully in the breeze, while creaks sound intermittently from tree to tree - natures fragility, warning us, acting as a reminder of how delicate the status quo can be. As gusts surround, an invisible chase takes place, a game of hide and seek, heard audibly through the low groaning of those rooted to the ground. Leaves rustling, the energy is rising, in this vast woodland. The energy, the fragility; can be seen, heard and felt if your open to it, in a forest, a wooded area near you, breathe in the oxygen they secreet, think how susceptible even the oldest tall tree; may potentially be, to the harshness of mother nature and consider that we are but one and the same, person and nature, run down at times due to age. Still we have our roots, still we carry on, we wait to see what hand we’re dealt, how we react when pushed, whipped up into a frenzy and in exchange we may also experience the beauty, the amazement of the bright and colourful sunrise, the dawning of better days. When things go right, look out your window, at the trees nearby - they get the pleasure of experiencing the calm, glorious sunrises and colourful sunsets and so can we, if we stop and let ourselves. Life can change in a moment, appreciate the little things, for their everywhere, as they say; blink and you’ll miss it, yet meanwhile acknowledging and accepting that life is never perfect, is the best way to be. Be thankful for the good things, the blessings we have, acknowledge we are small beings on this planet and things could change at any time, everything is so very delicate; yet here we are. Life is not never ending, this is a beautiful place to be, if you can see what is out there, truly be a part of this fragile natural world. |
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#2702 |
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Join Date: May 2006
Location: Scotland
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Quote:
A timely warning about the perils of trusting internet 'friends'. You won't get me on Facebook or Twitter, some of them are really vicious on there
![]() Great write Izzy, I don't think we've had one on that topic yet - but I may be wrong ![]()
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#2703 |
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Join Date: May 2006
Location: Scotland
Posts: 9,318
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Quote:
IzzyS, you can never be alone, when you have something in you, to ease your way through, that is called a brand new day, start over, leave those troubles behind and then tell me, something funny.
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#2704 |
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Join Date: Aug 2005
Posts: 18,064
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Quote:
As gusts surround, an invisible chase takes place, a game of hide and seek, heard audibly through the low groaning of those rooted to the ground. |
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#2705 |
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Join Date: Jun 2012
Posts: 6,314
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I walk over to the side-table and pick up your picture.
A fine film of dust has settled on the top edge of the frame, dulling the silver gild. I slowly trace my finger across the surface, restoring some of its shine, then look at my finger tip and the powdery grey matter. I blow it away. Let it settle somewhere else. 10 x 8. Black and white. 500th of a second at F4 to reduce the depth of field. Blurred the background to set you in sharp relief I remember the moment I took this picture. I used my old Pentax. ‘Go digital’ I was told. And finally I have . . with some regret. I touch the glass where your hair lies. It’s cold. A barrier. But I can still feel the fine strands of your hair and remember how they run between my fingers perfect threads of white silk falling to your shoulders. I remember its freshness, like spring rain and honeysuckle carrying the seductive whisper of musk. Your skin: aged, flawed . . yet perfect. Every line so familiar. Every line slowly etched over time. A record of your life’s journey. My thumb lightly traces the flat contours of your face. Down your cheek. Across your mouth. And along that strong jaw-line – so set with purpose and pride – then down to the curve of your neck. I feel the brittle, pure glass. I remember your warm soft, giving skin. My smile is reflected in your lips – a natural easy smile, always freely given. And your lips . . . I can hear your laugh. I can hear your words. Skipping softly across the air. The monochrome grain of the picture holds you – caught in that split second of time. And yet you’re timeless and I love you and I know that love will last for all the time I have left. One final caress and I place you down to rest on the side-table. Then turn as you come into the room and stand by my side. I touch your hair, perfect threads of white silk, fresh like spring rain and honeysuckle, carrying that seductive whisper of musk. |
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#2706 |
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Join Date: Nov 2004
Posts: 7,572
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That is so touching Scottie. I thought it was going to be tragic, but then came that lovely last verse.
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#2707 |
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Join Date: May 2006
Location: Scotland
Posts: 9,318
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Reading To Escape by IzzyS
How the tiredness drags on,
more of the same, day after day, energy levels are low, yet still I keep on, keep on going, working, helping, breathing, eating, drinking, doing, hoping, wondering, when the routine will end when lifes adventure will start, when will be my time?. Good things come to those who wait, thats what they say, so in the meantime, I console myself by escaping, into the wondrous world of the imagination, through the printed word, books are fast becoming my solace. My imagination sets me free, from the hum-drum, brings stories to life, through the words of others, who expertly convey them - authors who paint the canvas, make us love and hate characters, feel their pain and rejoice at their accomplishments, back the underdogs and hope for the villains to receive their due comeuppance. Reading can open a whole new world, to those who take the time to let themselves get absorbed, it can be a brilliant ability, to calm the dullness of an unfruitful, even dreary routine, to give yourself a bit of time each day, to be taken away, see what alternative life you could have been living and hope all ends well. |
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#2708 |
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Join Date: Mar 2009
Location: Is there life on Mars
Posts: 5,370
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Freudian Slippery
Is ego your amigo And your id somewhere hid Super- ego , super hero ? Can you find out what it did Why split it to a trio So make one become a three I don’t think I’m that complex I’m just a simple me. |
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#2709 |
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Join Date: May 2006
Location: Scotland
Posts: 9,318
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There's always something... (health anxiety poem) by IzzyS
Is ignorance bliss?
I quietly ponder...wondering, wishing, fed up of worrying, not knowing but fearing, something may be a warning things may be about to go terribly wrong. There's always something, that something which is not quite right, something that seems to stick out to my senses, like a metaphorical sore thumb... quick, sound the siren! something isn't right, it can't be! not again?! the physical pain may barely or not at all even be felt; yet my brain screeches at me, tugging at my attention, swearing that what I've noticed, felt, detected is a clear sign of some sort of impending doom - there must be SOMETHING wrong. I must act now, mustn't I? but what will this mean? there are so many different types of pain, the potential hanging over me can be dizzying. If only I didn't keep worrying, about the 'what if's?', seemingly presume the worst could always be possible, no matter what I come across, big or small, it all takes a tiring toll. |
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#2710 |
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Join Date: Jun 2011
Posts: 10,586
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Quote:
Originally Posted by IzzyS
It doesn't feel that way at the time though. Thankfully I've been gettng better nights sleep *knocks on wood* for the last few days or so.
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#2711 |
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Join Date: Jun 2011
Posts: 10,586
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Please don't think me foolish
Please don't think me foolish as I talk about my day I've been here and there and then I'll be on my way Please don't think me foolish as we wander though the place observing pretty details there as of such made of lace. |
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#2712 |
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Join Date: Jun 2011
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Always
Treasure can be lost and found said the pirate to his lady Like a coin in sand in time asked the lady to her pirate Of course but with a map answered the pirate to his lady Do I read the map wisely questioned the lady to her pirate Always was the reply. |
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#2713 |
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Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Pools of sorrow, waves of joy
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Apologies for my absence again - the glorious weather made it hard to stay in
I had a barbecue with a friend in a forest on Wednesday, it were grand I'll try to catch up a bit today, after posting a poem
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#2714 |
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Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Pools of sorrow, waves of joy
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The New Recruit's First Day
'Hello there mate, I see you're new, Don't worry, you'll soon settle. Take in the atmospheric view And I'll put on the kettle.' 'Oh thanks, I'm gasping for a tea! What month is it, November? Apart from flashbacks baffling me There's not much I remember.' 'I was the same on my first day But rehabilitation And time in this place where we stay Brings back lost information. I left a trench and never did Return from foreign regions, Some fought, some died, some even hid Among our British legions. My final vision is the blood Of Henderson and Sanders And laying face-down in the mud When I got hit in Flanders.' 'But that was many years ago And you look barely twenty! Is this the place where heroes go? Is this the land of plenty?' 'Well, someone has to pay the toll And numbers I can't tally, Come on now son, let's take a stroll Across the sunlit valley. Although we're still in uniform We have no other duty Than resting where the poppies form Enchanting plains of beauty.' © |
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#2715 |
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Join Date: Nov 2006
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Quote:
I Wish (Sunset Sky)
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#2716 |
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Join Date: Nov 2006
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Quote:
Early Hour Silence
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#2717 |
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Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Pools of sorrow, waves of joy
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Quote:
When a tree falls in the wood are you certain
If no witness of descent to the ground That a crash was made by the timber If no person about heard the sound. The chap I spoke to said it was arrogant of us to think there's no sound because we're not present ![]() It remains a perplexing thought and I enjoyed your take on it
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#2718 |
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Forum Member
Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Pools of sorrow, waves of joy
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Quote:
Grasping Idealism
Perhaps all that I know Could be stored in my toe It reminded me a bit of Archiver's style and no, you're not thick
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#2719 |
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Join Date: Nov 2006
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Quote:
sometimes a Squirrel stops to choose
sometimes a Squirrel stops. I love squirrels too and your ode filled my mind with them! Excellent
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#2720 |
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Join Date: Nov 2006
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Quote:
All the nasties go on Facebook and Twitter, I'm glad they're not here ![]() Quote:
Musty, those are lovely lines. Also an orchestra sometimes needs a conductor to help bring the instruments together.
![]() Quote:
And sometimes they pinch your strawberries
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#2721 |
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Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Pools of sorrow, waves of joy
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Quote:
'Dwindling elves', great words to say and read. I'll have to try and drop that into a conversation. I love it !
![]() I needed a phrase, so I opened up The Lord Of The Rings at random. 'Dwindling elves' jumped out at me and I nicked it, just like you did with Coldplay ![]() It may actually have been 'The dwindling of the elves' - good old JRR
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#2722 |
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Join Date: Nov 2006
Location: Pools of sorrow, waves of joy
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Hopefully I'll pop in on Tuesday to catch up on the rest of the thread.
Bye for now my friends
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#2723 |
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Join Date: Jun 2011
Posts: 10,586
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Quote:
Originally Posted by mr. mustard
You're one of life's great observers Sandy - which is always an advantage when you write poetry
I love squirrels too and your ode filled my mind with them! Excellent ![]() ![]() Have you ever seen the mission impossible squirrel?
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#2724 |
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Forum Member
Join Date: Jun 2011
Posts: 10,586
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Quote:
Originally Posted by mr. mustard
Apologies for my absence again - the glorious weather made it hard to stay in
I had a barbecue with a friend in a forest on Wednesday, it were grand I'll try to catch up a bit today, after posting a poem ![]()
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#2725 |
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Forum Member
Join Date: Jun 2015
Posts: 73
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Is poetry a dead art?
Is poetry an art? Is poetry dead? Yes! Yes! Yes! Is poetry a dead language? Is poetry a language? Is poetry dead? Yes! Yes! Yes! Who speaketh this nonesense? Start the CPR Revive this curmudgeonly art It's ALIVE! |
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I had a barbecue with a friend in a forest on Wednesday, it were grand
The chap I spoke to said it was arrogant of us to think there's no sound because we're not present 
