A Poem Thread

The Anthem of Antarctica.
Oh, hail Antarctica,
Devoid of Flora!
Standing in peace,
We shall not cease!

Ruling above the seas,
Defender of the oceans,
A home of many,
our glacial land!

For a theoretical Republic of Antarctica (actually, from one of my alternate history stories).As a song, it's meant to be sung to the tune of "God Save the Tsar". :D
 
There is some flora there though.
its flora presently consists of around 250 lichens, 100 mosses, 25-30 liverworts, around 700 terrestrial and aquatic algal species. Two flowering plants, Deschampsia antarctica (Antarctic hair grass) and Colobanthus quitensis (Antarctic pearlwort), are found on the northern and western parts of the Antarctic Peninsula.
Click to expand...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antarctic_flora
 
Just a short spontaneous poem by me.
Written Sept. 21, 2006
In memory of someone

Late September sky,
before the dawn meets the eye,
gazing stars remember why,
in the late September sky.

Changing seasons changing sky,
looking for the reasons why,
tell us why we have to die
late September sky.

Like a mem’ry fades the night,
dreams awaken to the light,
is it wrong or is it right,
late September sky?

As we live another day,
another life has slipped away,
we live to tell what others said,
to the late September sky.
 
From Heliotropes: (...)

Gravity as evidence, Lady there, “I am”. “Reverted, oh,
I elemental witness fusion, function in a space, this amber
ever tempered, temperature forged face; now take a ‘center’,
from first measure’s meet. “Hess’s Onion, also
orbit missed is Orion”, Poet said is
product, light in sentence played. Edward
never answered, yet was ever entertained
by ‘proximity’, his error only approximation
in a watching.
Years brought wealth to old man, couched
on ancient holiday. “I will program Steven’s ship for love
entailed in continuum, all Asterisk. This blueprint
is meeting room…after all”.

To teach and keep poems secret…seems undeniable…
“Hatred”, Day read on holiday, called collapse some game
when astronomer’s notes
could catch, forestall a distance Day could never
prepare for. “Steven’s Dream CAN tether priestess, tower
bound remind loop infinite for monster, maze enticed…
by degree an Edward funds it, through a poet,
angle added will project through base attention
sought”.

If to assuage an intermittent ‘boredom’,
Day played program Multi-Variable yearly
as engine’s craft came consummate,
contiguous to a preface.

Karen L. Havens (2006)
 
I know it's past my time for bed
when daylight fades from memory
and candles turn the darkness red
when pens bleed lines of ebony
and thoughts set free take flight
when heavy burdens suddenly
gain wings to lift up light
flying further than the eye can see
like warm evenings on the balcony
 
systems shutting down,
each light, each star in the sky,
existance is closing its eyes,
all eyes of all life
 
In the winds above
and in the death cold waters
I walk risen from the fossils and dust,
a lifeform shining and shattering time.

The mortals can kill and the mortals can weep,
that is their privilege - to think they can win or be able to lose -
the reality is that they can change not a thing.

Mutated DNA's and visions born from altered minds,
creatures imagining themselves outside this world,
but the gravity keeps them at bay
and on their bodies I feed and I feast.

I rise from the dust as nuclear attraction,
I create an illusion and give it the power
to live and to feed, to feel for my needs.
 
Last edited:
Children of yesterday, heirs of tomorrow. What are you weeping? labour and sorrow? look to your looms again, faster and faster, fly the great shuttles prepared by the master. Lifes in the loom, room for it, room.
 
Last edited:
Brief Defense
-------------------------------------------

Four railway staff
underneath identical moustaches
smile together agreeably.
Steaming terracotta teacups
held more cautiously
than shoulder slung rifles.

and I remember

It’s a common hope
to be taken away gently
by the wrist watch
rather than engulfed in the noise
of history repeating itself
down the same streets
a little bit louder each time
until the traffic deals
such a backhand of sound
or at least so she explains,
saying it was more like
a windstorm in a doll factory
than a car bomb
that lifted her taxi.
 
Without a Compass
-------------------------------------

According to Darwin, I should be extinct.
According to Malthus, never even born.
According to Lombroso, in any case, I will end badly.
And not to mention Marx, I, petit bourgeois,
to escape, then, need to escape
from the front, to the back, or from the side.
(It was that way for everyone in the forties.) Still,
personal uncertainties remain.
Am I to the east of my wound
or to the south of my death?

Luciano Erba
 
It always fascinates me, how good some things can be said in one language, and then sound just not right in another. Here's a song I wrote in Latvian, it's very rhytmic and good sounding. But in English (as you'll see below) the words don't really fit together, even more, the same can not be said in English, a direct translation loses the meaning, indirect sounds bad and some can't be translated, because there are no words describing that in English.
Of course many times it is vice versa.

On the English translation in [ ] brackets I'll give the meaning that is there in the Latvian words, but is not found in English closest counterparts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kas redzēja, kas tevi,
kas redzēja staigājot,
kas pēdas atstājot,
kas tevi jūras malā dejojot?

Kas dzirdēja, kas tevi,
kas dzirdēja dziedājot,
kas vārsmas skandinot,
kas jūras malā dainojot?

Kas juta, kas tevi,
kas juta elpojot,
kas starp vējiem lidojot,
kas tevi jūrā savu dvēsli ieliekot?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

====================
English translation below

Who saw, who [saw] you,
who saw [you] walking,
who [saw you] leaving footsteps,
who saw you dancing at the shore of a sea?

Who heard, who [heard] you,
who heard [you] singing,
who [heard you] chanting verses,
who [heard you] folksongsinging at the shore of a sea?

Who felt, who [felt] you,
who felt [you] breathing,
who [felt you] flying among the winds,
who [felt you] putting your soul in to a sea?


===========

That's why I think visual arts and melody are superior to poetry and words,
they are able not to lose their impact no matter the time or culture.
 
It always fascinates me, how good some things can be said in one language, and then sound just not right in another. Here's a song I wrote in Latvian, it's very rhytmic and good sounding. But in English (as you'll see below) the words don't really fit together, even more, the same can not be said in English, a direct translation loses the meaning, indirect sounds bad and some can't be translated, because there are no words describing that in English.
Of course many times it is vice versa.

On the English translation in [ ] brackets I'll give the meaning that is there in the Latvian words, but is not found in English closest counterparts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kas redzēja, kas tevi,
kas redzēja staigājot,
kas pēdas atstājot,
kas tevi jūras malā dejojot?

Kas dzirdēja, kas tevi,
kas dzirdēja dziedājot,
kas vārsmas skandinot,
kas jūras malā dainojot?

Kas juta, kas tevi,
kas juta elpojot,
kas starp vējiem lidojot,
kas tevi jūrā savu dvēsli ieliekot?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

====================
English translation below

Who saw, who [saw] you,
who saw [you] walking,
who [saw you] leaving footsteps,
who saw you dancing at the shore of the sea?

Who heard, who [heard] you,
who heard [you] singing,
who [heard you] chanting verses,
who [heard you] folksongsinging at the shore of the sea?

Who felt, who [felt] you,
who felt [you] breathing,
who [felt you] flying among the winds,
who [felt you] putting your soul in to the sea?


===========

That's why I think visual arts and melody are superior to poetry and words,
they are able to not lose their impact no matter the time or culture.
 
Just found this poem today.



Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952.
 
[A song]

Everyone cries when everyone dies,
everyone saves a life of another
when everyone is about to die.

Everybody flies inside a dream, a world full of lies,
realities created, realities forgotten,
a snap of fingers, life.

What you see is what you see,
for no-one else, just for you,
for no-one else, but you,
what you see is you.

Sensory organs, impulses, shadows,
what do you think the shapes represent,
what do you believe in? you believe in you!

you believe in existence existing
you believe in existence transmitting
little flowers, rain and sex,
happiness, insects and snakes.

Signals from me to you, signals from you to you,
energy field just like it was in the big bang,
manifestations of it all of our kin
and the meteor in the sky,
the meteor in the eye
coming from the sky.
 
Your all very brave putting ur personal thoughts end experiences on to something like this. I write poetry to help deal with things that happen, things in the long run have truned out to be meaningless, but they were good threapy at the time
 
i have one.
its not really good but i like it

Girl in the mirror


Look at the girl in the mirror
Ugly.
Fat.
Your nose is too big
Your eyes are too small
You’re pale with acne
How could anyone like a girl like you
Fake.
Your hair isn’t really that color,
Sure you can keep piling on that make-up
But I know what you really look like
…
Look at the girl in the mirror
Thick luscious ‘lashes
Pure even complexion
Gorgeous
Plump ruby lips
Pin straight golden hair
Why can’t I look like her?
 
An exercise in aesthetic
A beautiful calisthentic
With words sewn upon a page
So that all might rage
Against a life which is droll.
 
It was August and I was at the best of myself when I met her
It wasn't as though I thought about it, It wasn't as though anything at all
I was just being myself
the first time you fall for someone is usually the first time again
fall came with its ever clever decaying beauty and enchanting season
all the leaves seem to follow her
I should have followed her
she was beautiful in all the word
maybe it was in my head that the leaves followed her
maybe I wanted them to
In my heart you will remain, guiding and encouraging
I have to go now, to the ever amazing free flowing cosmic abyss of the pool of life



*Dedicated to girl on subway*
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Back
Top