D
dw51688
Guest
Sit down have a cafe latte and listen to the rhythms. Poetry. For you Ademis.
T
terzarima
Guest
argh, now I see this? After how long? ahhh well I don't really drink coffee, or even pop for that matter (ask me another time) but lets get down to some poetry shall we?
Dw I thank you for making this thread, thank you!
One foot in Eden still, I stand
And look across the other land
The world’s great day is growing late,
Yet strange these fields that we have planted
So long with crops of love and hate.
Time’s handiworks by time are haunted,
And nothing now can separate
The corn and tares completely grown.
The armorial weed in stillness bound
About the stalk; these are our own.
Evil and good stand thick around
In fields of charity and sin
Where we shall lead our harvest in
Yet still from Eden springs the root
As clean as on the starting day
Time takes the foliage and the fruit
And burns the archetypal leaf
To shapes of terror and of grief
Scattered along the winter way.
But famished field and blackened tree
Bear flowers in Eden never known.
Blossoms of grief and charity
Bloom in these darkened fields alone.
What had Eden ever to say
Of hope and faith and pity and love
Until was buried all its day
And memory found its treasure trove?
Strange blessing never in Paradise
Fall from these beclouded skies.
Dw I thank you for making this thread, thank you!
One foot in Eden still, I stand
And look across the other land
The world’s great day is growing late,
Yet strange these fields that we have planted
So long with crops of love and hate.
Time’s handiworks by time are haunted,
And nothing now can separate
The corn and tares completely grown.
The armorial weed in stillness bound
About the stalk; these are our own.
Evil and good stand thick around
In fields of charity and sin
Where we shall lead our harvest in
Yet still from Eden springs the root
As clean as on the starting day
Time takes the foliage and the fruit
And burns the archetypal leaf
To shapes of terror and of grief
Scattered along the winter way.
But famished field and blackened tree
Bear flowers in Eden never known.
Blossoms of grief and charity
Bloom in these darkened fields alone.
What had Eden ever to say
Of hope and faith and pity and love
Until was buried all its day
And memory found its treasure trove?
Strange blessing never in Paradise
Fall from these beclouded skies.
Z
Zhaneel
Guest
you don't drink soda either? spiffy! and I thought I was the only one...
spiffy poem, too!
spiffy poem, too!
T
terzarima
Guest
Oh another fellow non-pop dinker, that stuff is horrible for you, oh well still tastes good, more poems are on the way,
How many Dreams have I dreamt?
How many nights alone?
In my halls of slumber
Upon my ever sleeping throne
The dreams, they come each day and night
To trouble my mind
All the time, my silent fight
To keep control of my soul
Drifting, creeping ever sleeping.
Golden circlet upon my head,
The scepter falls from callused hands
To return never more
How many Dreams have I dreamt?
How many nights alone?
In my halls of slumber
Upon my ever sleeping throne
The dreams, they come each day and night
To trouble my mind
All the time, my silent fight
To keep control of my soul
Drifting, creeping ever sleeping.
Golden circlet upon my head,
The scepter falls from callused hands
To return never more
E
ErinPuff
Guest
I don't drink soda either..
Fact of the Day: A 9x2x1 (inches) Rice Krispies Treat has *less* sugar than a can of Coke. (Rice Krispies Treat: 25 grams. Coke: 27 grams.)
[Edited by ErinPuff on 11-02-00 at 07:42 PM]
Fact of the Day: A 9x2x1 (inches) Rice Krispies Treat has *less* sugar than a can of Coke. (Rice Krispies Treat: 25 grams. Coke: 27 grams.)
[Edited by ErinPuff on 11-02-00 at 07:42 PM]
Z
Zhaneel
Guest
more?
E
ErinPuff
Guest
yeesh, lack of sleep is getting to me..
..I meant LESS.. I'll edit now.
..I meant LESS.. I'll edit now.
T
terzarima
Guest
More, you make it sound like a bad thing, I mean I could go on like this for a long time, here is another cool one, by my favortie poet
I hate you with a necessary hate.
First, I sought patience: passionate was she:
My patience turned in very scorn of me,
That I should dare forgive a sin so great,
As this, through which I sit disconsolate;
Mourning for that live soul, I used to see;
Soul of a saint, whose friend I used to be:
Till you came by! a cold, corrupting, fate.
Why come you now? You, whom I cannot cease
With pure and perfect hate to hate? Go, ring
The death-bell with a deep, triumphant toll!
Say you, my friend sits by me still? Ah, peace!
Call you this thing my friend? this nameless thing?
This living body, hiding its dead soul?
I hate you with a necessary hate.
First, I sought patience: passionate was she:
My patience turned in very scorn of me,
That I should dare forgive a sin so great,
As this, through which I sit disconsolate;
Mourning for that live soul, I used to see;
Soul of a saint, whose friend I used to be:
Till you came by! a cold, corrupting, fate.
Why come you now? You, whom I cannot cease
With pure and perfect hate to hate? Go, ring
The death-bell with a deep, triumphant toll!
Say you, my friend sits by me still? Ah, peace!
Call you this thing my friend? this nameless thing?
This living body, hiding its dead soul?
Z
Zhaneel
Guest
i wasn't talking about the poetry...
T
terzarima
Guest
Then what's bad about more of what?
Z
Zhaneel
Guest
the rice krispies and coke.. she mis-typed
T
terzarima
Guest
oh well, I could add more poetry, and well I will beacuase I love it so, I dedicate this poem to the people who say the Cpa will die
Day of Judgement
When the fierce North wind with his airy forces Rears up the Baltic to a foaming fury,
And the red lightning with a storm of hail come
Rushing amain down,
How the poor sailors stand amazed and tremble
While the hoarse thunder, like a bloody trumpet,
Roars a load onset to the gaping waters,
Quick to devour them!
Such shall the noise be and the wild disorder,
(If things eternal may be like these earthly)
Such the dire terror when the great Archangel
Shakes the creation,
Tears the strong pillars of the vault of heaven
Breaks up old marble, the repose of princes;
See the graves open, and the bones arising,
Flames all around ‘em!
Hark the shrill outcries of the guilty Wretches!
Lively bright horror and amazing anguish
Stare though their eyelids, while the living worm lies
Rolling afore him
Hopeless Immortals! How they scream and shiver,
While devils push them to the pit wide yawning
Hideous and gloomy, to receiving them headlong
Down to the center.
Stop here, my fancy: (all away ye horrid
Doleful ideas); come, arise to Jesus;
How he sits God-like! And the saints around him
Throned yet adoring
Oh may I sit there when he comes triumphant
Dooming the nations! Then ascend to glory
While our hosannas all along the passage
Shout the redeemer
Day of Judgement
When the fierce North wind with his airy forces Rears up the Baltic to a foaming fury,
And the red lightning with a storm of hail come
Rushing amain down,
How the poor sailors stand amazed and tremble
While the hoarse thunder, like a bloody trumpet,
Roars a load onset to the gaping waters,
Quick to devour them!
Such shall the noise be and the wild disorder,
(If things eternal may be like these earthly)
Such the dire terror when the great Archangel
Shakes the creation,
Tears the strong pillars of the vault of heaven
Breaks up old marble, the repose of princes;
See the graves open, and the bones arising,
Flames all around ‘em!
Hark the shrill outcries of the guilty Wretches!
Lively bright horror and amazing anguish
Stare though their eyelids, while the living worm lies
Rolling afore him
Hopeless Immortals! How they scream and shiver,
While devils push them to the pit wide yawning
Hideous and gloomy, to receiving them headlong
Down to the center.
Stop here, my fancy: (all away ye horrid
Doleful ideas); come, arise to Jesus;
How he sits God-like! And the saints around him
Throned yet adoring
Oh may I sit there when he comes triumphant
Dooming the nations! Then ascend to glory
While our hosannas all along the passage
Shout the redeemer
D
Darsh
Guest
I don't have any poetry but I do have a song which is semi-poetry, if you read it as a poem it's really good.
when we were young the future
was so bright
the old neighborhood was so alive
and everykid on the whole d*mn street
was gonna make it big and not be beat
now the neighborhood's cracked and torn
the kids are grown up
but their lives are worn
how can one little street
swallows so many lives
chances thrown
nothin's free
longing for what used to be
still it's hard
hard to see
fragile lives, shattered dreams
jamie had a chance, well she really did
instead she dropped out and
had a couple of kids
mark still lives at home
cause he's got no job
he just plays guitar and smokes a lot of pot
jay committed suicide
brandon od'd and died
what the h*ll is going on
the cruellest dream, reality
chances thrown
nothing's free
longing for what used to be
still it's hard
hard to see
fragile lives, shattered dreams
when we were young the future
was so bright
the old neighborhood was so alive
and everykid on the whole d*mn street
was gonna make it big and not be beat
now the neighborhood's cracked and torn
the kids are grown up
but their lives are worn
how can one little street
swallows so many lives
chances thrown
nothin's free
longing for what used to be
still it's hard
hard to see
fragile lives, shattered dreams
jamie had a chance, well she really did
instead she dropped out and
had a couple of kids
mark still lives at home
cause he's got no job
he just plays guitar and smokes a lot of pot
jay committed suicide
brandon od'd and died
what the h*ll is going on
the cruellest dream, reality
chances thrown
nothing's free
longing for what used to be
still it's hard
hard to see
fragile lives, shattered dreams
T
terzarima
Guest
Offspring eh? Oh well, yeah lyrics are poetry too (Mindy please don't get any ideas)
T
terzarima
Guest
Since this hasn't got much attention, more poetry will I put into it until everyone in the Cpa loves poetry!
It came upon a midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth
To touch their harps of gold:
“Peace on the earth, good-will to men.
From heaven’s all-gracious King!”
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing.
Still through the cloven skies they come,
With peaceful wings unfurled;
And still their heavenly music floats`
O’er all the weary world:
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on hovering wing,
And ever o’er its Babel-sounds
The blessed angels sing
Yet with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angels’ strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love-song which they bring:
O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing!
For lo, the days are hastening on,
By prophet-bards foretold,
When with the ever-circling years
Comes round the age of gold,
When Peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling,
And the whole world give back the song
Which now the angels sing!
Edmund Hamilton Sears
It came upon a midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth
To touch their harps of gold:
“Peace on the earth, good-will to men.
From heaven’s all-gracious King!”
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing.
Still through the cloven skies they come,
With peaceful wings unfurled;
And still their heavenly music floats`
O’er all the weary world:
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on hovering wing,
And ever o’er its Babel-sounds
The blessed angels sing
Yet with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angels’ strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The love-song which they bring:
O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing!
For lo, the days are hastening on,
By prophet-bards foretold,
When with the ever-circling years
Comes round the age of gold,
When Peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling,
And the whole world give back the song
Which now the angels sing!
Edmund Hamilton Sears
Isn't that freaky, expecially in the year 2000, however it does say "Comes round the age of gold" maybe thats a good thing
Z
Zhaneel
Guest
huh...interesting... we shall see, shan't we
D
dw51688
Guest
For you Ademis!
A Friend Who Cared
You say, we are friends, you are on my side.
You say to me, I have to open my eyes.
Each time, I open them, I can't bear what I see.
You kept telling me, you are there for me.
I think with my mind, not with my heart.
Where do I begin to even start?
So, you told me your problems, to ease my pain.
You thought with your heart and not your brain.
I told you"There's no Cinderalla Story for me.
"If you find it my friend , then I will see.
Don't think with you heart and not your brain.,
The heart will only bring you pain."
As I watched your heart break, it was being abused.
You watch my brain become very confused.
I watched your heart crumble, you watch my brain freeze.
My heart began to open, your heart began to freeze.
You tell me your dreams, my mind did not see.
You follow your heart,it will never be.
You must think with your brain if your dreams are to come true.
You must find someone, who is there for you.
You think with your heart, you see my mistakes.
You tell me, I have to leave this place.
You must think with your heart, if your dreams are to come true.
You must find someone, who is there for you.
Your heart could not bear it, your brain could not see.
So you took your broken heart out on me.
My brain could not take it, it didn't want this heart.
I took it out , on you, right fron the start.
Seeing a heart of a friend, at last I did find.
That I really had all along, a heart and a mind.
My heart began to open, my brain found the way.
You must think with your heart, and brain, I say.
Now the heart that I have, is a heart that did mend.
A heart that is dear, it's a heart of a freind.
A heart that will trust, because of you.
A heart that can grow and not be so blue.
My friend, mended the heart , a heart that was cold
My friend, taught me to speak up and to be bold,
For what I need, my friend taught me to ask.
He taught me not to come in last.
I thought with my brain and I thought with my heart.
I realized my friend was was right from the start.
We will always love someone who touches are heart.
The hardest thing is knowing when we have to part.
People who touch are hearts, are always there.
They never leave, we will always care.
If we grow apart or happen to stay.
They are in our hearts, every day.
Where ever you are, Where ever you be.
You will always have a friend in me.
I was your friend from the very start,
And when it's time we have to part.
When ever you smile, when ever you laugh.
You will remember , your friend from the past.
Because in my heart you will always be,
And I in yours, I finally see.
When we do part, I would like to say
You taught me alot, my friend by the way
You taught me, to like the person inside.
I like to teach you, this for our final goodbye.
You must say what you want, you must say what you need.
Use your heart and your mind, to plant the precious seed.
If the heart opens up it's the heart that will be true.
It's the heart that will always be there for you.
Be true to yourself, be honest too.
Don't expect less, That will never do.
Then the person you find will be the person you need.
The heart and the brain , will have no reason to bleed.
If your ever feel lonely and lost and confused.
If you can't find your way and you just got the blues.
Just look in your heart and I'll always be there.
Because my dearest friend, I will always care.
A Friend Who Cared
You say, we are friends, you are on my side.
You say to me, I have to open my eyes.
Each time, I open them, I can't bear what I see.
You kept telling me, you are there for me.
I think with my mind, not with my heart.
Where do I begin to even start?
So, you told me your problems, to ease my pain.
You thought with your heart and not your brain.
I told you"There's no Cinderalla Story for me.
"If you find it my friend , then I will see.
Don't think with you heart and not your brain.,
The heart will only bring you pain."
As I watched your heart break, it was being abused.
You watch my brain become very confused.
I watched your heart crumble, you watch my brain freeze.
My heart began to open, your heart began to freeze.
You tell me your dreams, my mind did not see.
You follow your heart,it will never be.
You must think with your brain if your dreams are to come true.
You must find someone, who is there for you.
You think with your heart, you see my mistakes.
You tell me, I have to leave this place.
You must think with your heart, if your dreams are to come true.
You must find someone, who is there for you.
Your heart could not bear it, your brain could not see.
So you took your broken heart out on me.
My brain could not take it, it didn't want this heart.
I took it out , on you, right fron the start.
Seeing a heart of a friend, at last I did find.
That I really had all along, a heart and a mind.
My heart began to open, my brain found the way.
You must think with your heart, and brain, I say.
Now the heart that I have, is a heart that did mend.
A heart that is dear, it's a heart of a freind.
A heart that will trust, because of you.
A heart that can grow and not be so blue.
My friend, mended the heart , a heart that was cold
My friend, taught me to speak up and to be bold,
For what I need, my friend taught me to ask.
He taught me not to come in last.
I thought with my brain and I thought with my heart.
I realized my friend was was right from the start.
We will always love someone who touches are heart.
The hardest thing is knowing when we have to part.
People who touch are hearts, are always there.
They never leave, we will always care.
If we grow apart or happen to stay.
They are in our hearts, every day.
Where ever you are, Where ever you be.
You will always have a friend in me.
I was your friend from the very start,
And when it's time we have to part.
When ever you smile, when ever you laugh.
You will remember , your friend from the past.
Because in my heart you will always be,
And I in yours, I finally see.
When we do part, I would like to say
You taught me alot, my friend by the way
You taught me, to like the person inside.
I like to teach you, this for our final goodbye.
You must say what you want, you must say what you need.
Use your heart and your mind, to plant the precious seed.
If the heart opens up it's the heart that will be true.
It's the heart that will always be there for you.
Be true to yourself, be honest too.
Don't expect less, That will never do.
Then the person you find will be the person you need.
The heart and the brain , will have no reason to bleed.
If your ever feel lonely and lost and confused.
If you can't find your way and you just got the blues.
Just look in your heart and I'll always be there.
Because my dearest friend, I will always care.
D
dw51688
Guest
DUke, for you...
I shared a secret with you.
That I have never told someone.
I trusted you with it.
I no longer trust no more.
I saw you as a friend.
Who said they really cared.
You seem to take advantage.
Of what I really cared.
I cared for your happiness.
I knew it was not me.
I wanted you to find someone
Be happy not like me.
Instead you push me away.
Use me like others did before.
I had nothing left to give.
You push me further to the floor.
Perhaps I am naive to think
People are kind and also nice.
That friends don't hurt each other.
They get through troubles in their life.
I wanted to have that lunch date.
Get away from the blues of life.
Instead I found it never came.
I just kept trying to be more nice.
You kept taking from me,
Like others did before.
I have nothing left to give you.
So now you shut the door.
I'll think about that lunch date
How it could have been so nice.
To have a friend to share things.
Learn about each other's life.
I will not trust no one
I learned that long ago.
Thought perhaps it was different.
Was you, I trusted so.
I realize now, no lunch date
No talks like we use to have.
Were ever really thought about.
Expect in my mind, I had.
What you wanted from me.
I couldn't really give.
No money in my pocket
Couldn't fix myself the way I did.
Just someone who cared about you.
As a friend, I can't look back.
Will hope someday I get
A postcard is all that, I asked.
I can now longer think of lunch.
I know it will never come.
It hurts inside to much to think.
What you have become.
Someone that has hurt me.
Who use me like others did.
Who said they care about me.
But I wonder if they did?
I think I will remember you.
Someone who might have cared.
Some actions that you did do.
I know you really had to care.
I have nothing left to give you.
I have no friend that cares.
I only have the memories.
I can do with as I care.
Someday when I can think about
The lunch date we never had
I'll probably wait for all my life.
For a postcard, when I'm feeling sad.
I know it, won't happen.
Yet I know I still will care.
About a friend who said goodbye
Without even enough to care.
I shared a secret with you.
That I have never told someone.
I trusted you with it.
I no longer trust no more.
I saw you as a friend.
Who said they really cared.
You seem to take advantage.
Of what I really cared.
I cared for your happiness.
I knew it was not me.
I wanted you to find someone
Be happy not like me.
Instead you push me away.
Use me like others did before.
I had nothing left to give.
You push me further to the floor.
Perhaps I am naive to think
People are kind and also nice.
That friends don't hurt each other.
They get through troubles in their life.
I wanted to have that lunch date.
Get away from the blues of life.
Instead I found it never came.
I just kept trying to be more nice.
You kept taking from me,
Like others did before.
I have nothing left to give you.
So now you shut the door.
I'll think about that lunch date
How it could have been so nice.
To have a friend to share things.
Learn about each other's life.
I will not trust no one
I learned that long ago.
Thought perhaps it was different.
Was you, I trusted so.
I realize now, no lunch date
No talks like we use to have.
Were ever really thought about.
Expect in my mind, I had.
What you wanted from me.
I couldn't really give.
No money in my pocket
Couldn't fix myself the way I did.
Just someone who cared about you.
As a friend, I can't look back.
Will hope someday I get
A postcard is all that, I asked.
I can now longer think of lunch.
I know it will never come.
It hurts inside to much to think.
What you have become.
Someone that has hurt me.
Who use me like others did.
Who said they care about me.
But I wonder if they did?
I think I will remember you.
Someone who might have cared.
Some actions that you did do.
I know you really had to care.
I have nothing left to give you.
I have no friend that cares.
I only have the memories.
I can do with as I care.
Someday when I can think about
The lunch date we never had
I'll probably wait for all my life.
For a postcard, when I'm feeling sad.
I know it, won't happen.
Yet I know I still will care.
About a friend who said goodbye
Without even enough to care.
D
dw51688
Guest
The Raven:
THE RAVEN
by Edgar Allen Poe
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered,
weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore~
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door,
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door,
Only this and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;~vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow~sorrow for the lost Lenore~
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore~
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me~filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door~
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;
This it is and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger' hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you" ~ here I opened wide the door~
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubing, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before'
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!~
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore;~
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning~little relevancey bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door~
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered~
Till I scarely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before~
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmericful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore~
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never~nevermore.'"
But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore~
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking 'Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censor
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angel he hath sent thee
Respite ~ respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! ~ prophet still, if bird or devil!~
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted~
On this home by Horror haunted~tell me truly, I implore~
Is there~is there balm in Gilead?~tell me~ tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil~prophet still, if bird or devil!~
By that Heaven that bends above us~by that God, we both adore~
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!"
I shrieked, upstarting~
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!~quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifed~nevermore!
THE RAVEN
by Edgar Allen Poe
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered,
weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore~
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door,
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door,
Only this and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;~vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow~sorrow for the lost Lenore~
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore~
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me~filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door~
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;
This it is and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger' hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you" ~ here I opened wide the door~
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubing, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before'
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!~
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore;~
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning~little relevancey bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door~
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered~
Till I scarely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before~
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmericful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore~
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never~nevermore.'"
But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore~
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking 'Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censor
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angel he hath sent thee
Respite ~ respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! ~ prophet still, if bird or devil!~
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted~
On this home by Horror haunted~tell me truly, I implore~
Is there~is there balm in Gilead?~tell me~ tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil~prophet still, if bird or devil!~
By that Heaven that bends above us~by that God, we both adore~
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!"
I shrieked, upstarting~
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!~quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifed~nevermore!
T
terzarima
Guest
Since a new brand and breed of people have arrived in the Cpa. I find that it is time to revive this aged and old classic. With brand new poems from me and Duke, this place is sure to kick. But remember, don't attempt the things we do, we're professionals.
The Dreamt
I was walking on a mirror one dawn,
Reflecting my dream life to this real one,
I reached down to touch my hand,
And found the mirror a barrier of myth.
I reached my hand, but felt
My mind split between myselves
And saw not one hand reaching,
But two, and their goal unknown
And a thought crossed my minds,
That my sleeping was actually my waking,
And I awoke, and I ponder still.
Which life did I awaken to?
-Andrew Buskell
The Dreamt
I was walking on a mirror one dawn,
Reflecting my dream life to this real one,
I reached down to touch my hand,
And found the mirror a barrier of myth.
I reached my hand, but felt
My mind split between myselves
And saw not one hand reaching,
But two, and their goal unknown
And a thought crossed my minds,
That my sleeping was actually my waking,
And I awoke, and I ponder still.
Which life did I awaken to?
-Andrew Buskell