| T O P I C R E V I E W |
| CityCat |
Posted - Aug 19 2005 : 8:55:57 PM
I decided to dust off some of my poetry books and read my favourite poems, and I thought it would be nice to share some with you and have everyone post their favourites. Here's one to start things off:
Stefan by P.K. Page
Stefan
aged eleven
looked at the baby and said
When he thinks it must be pure thought
because he hasn't any words yet
and we
proud parents
admiring friends
who had looked at the baby
looked at the baby again
Looking forward to hearing your thoughts and reading your favourite poems!
Cat |
| 6 L A T E S T R E P L I E S (Newest First) |
| Whimsy_girl |
Posted - Aug 21 2005 : 1:19:28 PM
Dusting and mopping can wait til tomorrow, for babies grow up, we've learned to our sorrow. So dust take a vacation, and cobwebs go to sleep. I am rocking my baby and babies don't keep."
don't know who wrote it but I want to get it up on my wall in some form or another.
you can be oh so smart, or you can be oh so positive. I wasted a lot of time being smart I prefer being positive. |
| CityCat |
Posted - Aug 21 2005 : 1:13:36 PM
Oh, I loved the Ogden Nash poem!
Here is another poem I love:
The Cinnamon Peeler
If I were a cinnamon peeler
I would ride your bed
and leave the yellow bark dust
on your pillow.
Your breasts and shoulders would reek
you could never walk through markets
without the profession of my fingers
floating over you. The blind would
stumble certain of whom they approached
though you might bathe
under the rain gutters, monsoon.
Here on the upper thigh
at this smooth pasture
neighbour to your hair
or the crease
that cuts your back. This ankle.
You will be known among strangers
as the cinnamon peeler's wife.
I could hardly glance at you
before marriage
never touch you
- your keen nosed mother, your rough brothers.
I buried my hands
in saffron, disguised them
over smoking tar,
helped the honey gatherers...
When we swam once
I touched you in the water
and our bodies remained free,
you could hold me and be blind of smell.
You climbed the bank and said
this is how you touch other women
the grass cutter's wife, the lime burner's daughter.
And you searched your arms
for the missing perfume
and knew
what good is it
to be the lime burner's daughter
left with no trace
as if not spoken to in the act of love
as if wounded without the pleasure of a scar.
You touched
your belly to my hands
in the dry air and said
I am the cinnamon
peeler's wife. Smell me.
-- Michael Ondaatje |
| Fabulous Farm Femmes |
Posted - Aug 20 2005 : 11:15:23 AM
But this is truly my favorite..
" He drew a circle that shut me out -
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But Love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle that took him in "
Edwin Markham
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| Fabulous Farm Femmes |
Posted - Aug 20 2005 : 11:02:00 AM
I'll continue in that vein...
"My garden will never make me famous,
I'm a horticultural ignoramus,
I can't tell a stringbean from a soybean,
Or even a girl bean from a boy bean"
*** Ogden Nash |
| quiltedess |
Posted - Aug 20 2005 : 10:10:24 AM
I love Robert Frost and this is one of my favorites:
THE OBJECTION to BEING
STEPPED ON
At the end of the row
I stepped on the toe
Of an unemployed hoe.
It rose in offense
And struck me a blow
In the seat of my sense.
It wasn't to blame
But I called it a name.
And I must say it dealt
Me a blow that I felt
Like malice prepense.
You may call me a fool
But was there a rule
The weapon should be
Turned into a tool?
And what do we see?
The first tool I step on
Turned into a weapon.
Robert Frost
Nancy |
| mollymae |
Posted - Aug 19 2005 : 10:39:27 PM
My favorite poem is by Emily Dickinson:
If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain,
If I can ease one life the aching
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin unto his nest again...
I shall not live in vain.
Cead Mile Failte,
Molly
"This is love: to fly toward a secret sky, to cause a hundred veils to fall each moment. First to let go of life. Finally, to take a step without feet."~Rumi
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