prmystic
Whooshite Apprentice
Posts: 225
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Post by prmystic on Mar 9, 2005 10:53:46 GMT -6
Joxie the mighty She rescued the kitty She's got a heart of gold no matter what you've been told If technical stuff makes you blue She's the one to get you through She's Joxie She's Joxie the might - y !
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Post by Joxcenia on Mar 9, 2005 17:18:29 GMT -6
Thanks Mystic... love the poem...
He is worth the tears, I just wish I'd had a few more years with him, or at least knew his last days were coming up. My other baby wakes me up during the night calling for his brother to come play. He was an only cat for a year before I found Blue, so maybe it won't be so hard for him to be alone again. He was my uncle's cat, and he gave him to me a couple of months before I went to the mailbox that fateful day.
I'm hoping he adjusts okay, cause I'm not ready to go get him a new housemate as of yet. If ever.
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Post by Phalon on Mar 12, 2005 10:23:11 GMT -6
Two, or more from Horace - because the book is due back today, and then you shall be relieved of all this Horacing around. I enjoyed reading his poetry, though some of it was hard for me to interprete the meaning. Lots of Greek and Roman deities throughout and, given my likening to the mything persons, interesting to read of them from someone's point of view who lived during that time.
This is it - I promise. Really, this time.
First one is what I interprete to be an attest to love; unfettered with needless garnish.
Boy, I detest the Persian style Of elaboration. Garlands bore me Laced up with lime-bark. Don't run a mile To find the last rose of summer for me,
None of your fussy attempts to refine On simple myrtle. Myrtle suits both You pouring, me drinking, wine Under the trellised vine's thick growth.
note: myrtle was a symbol of both Aprodite and Venus - goddesses of love.
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Post by Phalon on Mar 12, 2005 10:35:03 GMT -6
Ok...this is a long one. Regretting angry poetry written in the heat of passion, and lamenting the loss?
O lovely mother's still more lovely daughter, Those scurrilous iambics I once penned Dispose of any way you want to: send Them up in fire or down in deep-sea water.
Not Phythian Phoebus when his priestess trembles With inspiration in the inner shrine Not Phrygian Cybele, not the god of wine, Not the wild Corybants' shrill-clashing cymbals
Master the soul like bitter rage, which even Fierce flame or Noric steel cannot deter, Or the ship-wrecking sea, of Jupiter Himself plunging in thunder from high heaven.
Prometheus, forced to take from every creature Some element to add to the first clay From which he mad Man, grafted, so they say, The ravening lion's violence to our nature.
Rage laid Thyestes' race in grim prostration; Rage is the clear cause why each tall-towered town That history tells of was brought toppling down In ruins, and the arrogant conquering nation
Printed the plough where walls once marked a city. Do not be angry, then. It was the sweet Madness of youth that drove me in the heat Of indignation to dash off that witty
Lampoon. But now my verses shall be changed from Cruel to kind, if only you'll be friends, And take this recantation as amends, And give me back the heart I've been estranged from.
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Post by marysgurl1 on Mar 14, 2005 8:25:35 GMT -6
Ah...Jox... I don't post here, so I was unaware of your loss. My heart is with yours! This was my boy here. I picked him from a litter & had him for 15 years! He got very slow & very tired near the end. He never was much for touchy-feely love but we understood each other. The last week or so, I would put the heating pad on the couch with his woobie over it & he would sleep constantly by my side. He died minutes after I came in from work one day....like he was waiting for me. Anyway, I wrote this for him & a friend printed it all fancy & framed it for me. PEACHES 1983-1998 There once was a cat named Peaches who never cared much for long speeches. He was the coolest of cool & laid back-- still at times could be 'tudy, So became his nickname and that would be Rudy. He was a crafty hunter his trophies many, of mice & squirrels & birds there were plenty. Donut holes, pizza, tortillas, & fries Also worthy catches when "carry-out" the prize. He schooled all his siblings with modest intent, Save for brother, Felix, which was his favorite time spent. Deke & Racey, Dylan & Bo, They sparked lots of interest, But only as "cat interest" goes. From the pick of the litter through 15 golden years, Through moves & changes--even a flood that brought tears, Peaches was my companion, my friend, my bud His memory I'll keep forever with a heart full of love! I use to write all the time-- short stories, poetry, anything. This has been the only thing that has motivated me to write in the last 15 years. (except of course, the lovies that I write for ILB!!) Sorry this is a little late....
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Post by Joxcenia on Mar 14, 2005 19:16:21 GMT -6
Thanks Q... Nice poem. I have one I wrote long ago for a cat named "Angel"... she was a devil too. Only had her a year when she got hit by a car that didn't bother to stop. I had had another cat, (born of a favorite female cat of mine when she was 10-years-old and who disappeared soon after weaning him), for around 15 years that died a few years before finding "Blue"... weird, but I always felt that "Pedro" had come back to me. I don't really believe in reincarnation, but I just got that vibe when I first found him and sometimes called him by the other cat's name. For the longest time after "Pedro" died, I could still feel him climb in bed with me and curl up between my legs. Didn't feel him anymore once "Blue" came to live with me. Haven't felt "Blue" since he died.
I'm doing better... not crying as much. I can't undo it, so I just have to deal with it whether I want to or not. Life goes on and so I have to too. I've been down this road many, many times before, and I'll no doubt go down this road many, many more times until I reach my own end. Can't stop loving just because it bites ya with a vengeance.
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Post by Joxcenia on Mar 15, 2005 23:57:57 GMT -6
There is someone interested in getting their work critiqued, so if anyone is interested let me know here, or PM me.
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holly golightly
Whooshite Apprentice
you cannot win nor lose a thing if it belongs to you
Posts: 139
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Post by holly golightly on Mar 17, 2005 7:40:08 GMT -6
so, there are some things i won't be able share with you because my favourite poem is in russian and the translation of poems is just a failing act since the feelings a poem inspires somehow disappear during the translation. but i will offer you nevertheless a translated poem. it is my favourite german poem and i think that not all the beaty is gone by this translated version.
The Panther
His gaze, going past those bars, has got so misted with tiredness, it can take in nothing more. He feels as though a thousand bars existed, and no more world beyond them than before.
Those supply powerful paddings, turning there in tiniest of circles, well might be the dance of forces round a centre where some mighty will stands paralyticly.
Just now and then the pupils' noiseless shutter is lifted. - Then an image will indart, down through the limbs' intensive stillness flutter, and end its being in the heart.
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Post by Joxcenia on Mar 17, 2005 16:49:49 GMT -6
I heard of this poem sometime within the past few years... maybe in a movie or something... isn't the writer autistic or something? Oh no! I remember... it's in the movie called: Awakenings, where Robert DeNiro plays the true life of a young boy who goes to sleep, wakes up around 50 years later for a few months, then goes back to sleep again. He used this poem to explain to his doctor (Robin Williams) that he has brief moments where he is aware of what goes on around him.
Great movie... sad story.
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Post by Phalon on Mar 17, 2005 18:13:52 GMT -6
This is in a book my daughter is reading. I thought it was cute.
The Vegetarian Poem
Do you carrot all for me? My heart beets for you. With your turnip nose And your radish face, You are a peach. If we cantaloupe Lettuce marry. Weed make a swell pear.
Anonymous/Folk Rhyme
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holly golightly
Whooshite Apprentice
you cannot win nor lose a thing if it belongs to you
Posts: 139
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Post by holly golightly on Mar 18, 2005 4:21:20 GMT -6
hey joxcee! yes, this poem occured in the movie, which was indeed very beautiful but very sad, too. and i think that de niro and williams were so damn good in this movie. but i guess de niro is smashing in simply every part he plays.
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Post by dixielandyankee on Mar 18, 2005 12:02:44 GMT -6
Joxcee...sorry sorry about your kitty My old cat died last year...she was 18 years old and had a great innings. She was a very big Siamese-cross called Autumn and I'd had her since I was 5 years old (she was a present from my parents when I wasn't having a great time in life). When she was about 10years old she was hit by a car and broke her pelvis and when it set she never walked the same...her back legs got very bad in the year before she died but she would always climb the stairs to the top floor of our house to sleep on my brother's bed because it was quiet up there. Sometimes I think I hear her funny little walk going up the stairs and I call her name for dinner with our other cat sometimes because I forget she's not there. She was a good old girl and is still missed. On the subject of cats, here's a poem from T.S. Elliot's 'Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats'...it's called 'Mr Mistoffelees': You ought to know Mr. Mistoffelees! The Original Conjuring Cat-- (There can be no doubt about that). Please listen to me and don't scoff. All his Inventions are off his own bat. There's no such Cat in the metropolis; He holds all the patent monopolies For performing suprising illusions And creating eccentric confusions. At prestidigitation And at legerdemain He'll defy examination And deceive you again. The greatest magicians have something to learn From Mr. Mistoffelees' Conjuring Turn. Presto! Away we go! And we all say: OH! Well I never! Was there ever A Cat so clever As Magical Mr. Mistoffelees! He is quiet and small, he is black From his ears to the tip of his tail; He can creep through the tiniest crack, He can walk on the narrowest rail. He can pick any card from a pack, He is equally cunning with dice; He is always deceiving you into believing That he's only hunting for mice. He can play any trick with a cork Or a spoon and a bit of fish-paste; If you look for a knife or a fork And you think it is merely misplaced-- You have seen it one moment, and then it is gawn! But you'll find it next week lying out on the lawn. And we all say: OH! Well I never! Was there ever A Cat so clever As Magical Mr. Mistoffelees! His manner is vague and aloof, You would think there was nobody shyer-- But his voice has been heard on the roof When he was curled up by the fire. And he's sometimes been heard by the fire When he was about on the roof-- (At least we all heard that somebody purred) Which is incontestable proof Of his singular magical powers: And I have known the family to call Him in from the garden for hours, While he was asleep in the hall. And not long ago this phenomenal Cat Produced seven kittens right out of a hat! And we all said: OH! Well I never! Did you ever Know a Cat so clever As Magical Mr. Mistoffelees!
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Post by Joxcenia on Mar 18, 2005 20:00:45 GMT -6
Thanks Dixie... Love the poem.
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Post by Phalon on Mar 22, 2005 7:52:33 GMT -6
I did a lot of walking yesterday - beautiful sunshiney spring morning. Today too. It reminds me of a scrap of paper I had stuck in a book somewhere, just because I liked it.
Not really poetry, but kind of poetic thought...
The mood in which you set out on A spring or autumn ramble.... Is the mood in which your best thoughts And impulses come to you.... Life is sweet in such moods, the universe Is complete, and there is no Failure or imperfection anywhere.
John Burroughs 1837-1921
Enjoy the day.
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holly golightly
Whooshite Apprentice
you cannot win nor lose a thing if it belongs to you
Posts: 139
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Post by holly golightly on Mar 22, 2005 9:05:10 GMT -6
well, this one is no real poetry, too. those are the lyrics to a wonderful song, that sticks in my head all day long. and this song is from a wonderful movie, "life of brian". i just love monthy python. and since over here is also a wonderful spring day and the birds whistle, i guess we should whislte as well. so here you go with they lyrics and a enjoy the day from me, too.
Some things in life are bad, They can really make you mad, Other things just make you swear and curse, When you're chewing life's gristle, Don't grumble, Give a whistle And this'll help things turn out for the best. And...
Always look on the bright side of life. [whistle] Always look on the light side of life. [whistle]
If life seems jolly rotten, There's something you've forgotten, And that's to laugh and smile and dance and sing. When you're feeling in the dumps, Don't be silly chumps. Just purse your lips and whistle. That's the thing. And...
Always look on the bright side of life. [whistle] Always look on the right side of life, [whistle]
For life is quite absurd And death's the final word. You must always face the curtain with a bow. Forget about your sin. Give the audience a grin. Enjoy it. It's your last chance, anyhow. So,...
Always look on the bright side of death, [whistle] Just before you draw your terminal breath. [whistle]
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Post by gwenyver on Mar 25, 2005 12:22:07 GMT -6
Balancing Act I walk a thin treacherous line Balanced by my fear and desire Looking from side to side One promises passion and apprehension The other safety and dishonesty Wavering from lust to peace I look for the truth I know is there But I can’t quite see it Would I know it if I could Guilt ridden and shamed Into hiding and lying I drown in unshed tears Rage and pain stalk my death Should I misstep and fall
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Post by ilb on Mar 26, 2005 20:13:17 GMT -6
that was a powerful one gwenyver.... i loved it
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Post by Phalon on Apr 3, 2005 0:29:07 GMT -6
Yes, it is. Everyone who writes poetry in here is so talented; really amazing.
And though I can't write it, I do like to read it. The following is from a book I picked up at the library. Weird title to be in the poetry section; curious, and I had to open the cover to give a peek. Thumbing through it, I found a lot of moving pieces - uplifting and not all sad and heavy. The title of the book is, "Funeral and Memorial Service Readings, Poems, and Tributes".
"Code Poem for the French Resistance"
The life that I have is all that I have, And the life that I have is yours. The love that I have of the life that I have Is yours and yours and yours.
A sleep I shall have A rest I shall have, Yet death will be but a pause. For the peace of my years in the long green grass Will be yours and yours and yours.
Leo Marks. Recited in the 1958 film "Carve Her Name with Pride, based on the book by R. J. Minney
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Apr 7, 2005 13:29:33 GMT -6
My November Guest by Robert Frost
My Sorrow, when she's here with me, Thinks these dark days of autumn rain Are beautiful as days can be; She loves the bare, the withered tree; She walks the sodden pasture lane.
Her pleasure will not let me stay. She talks and I am fain to list: She's glad the birds are gone away, She's glad her simple worsted grady Is silver now with clinging mist.
The desolate, deserted trees, The faded earth, the heavy sky, The beauties she so ryly sees, She thinks I have no eye for these, And vexes me for reason why.
Not yesterday I learned to know The love of bare November days Before the coming of the snow, But it were vain to tell he so, And they are better for her praise.
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Apr 12, 2005 16:16:39 GMT -6
This is one of my own...ispired by a song from a friend...Godsmack..
I have a right
I have the right to Love To be loved To live
I have the right to Sigh To rage To cry
I have the right to Feel To laugh To play
I have the right to Think to Bleed So don’t tell me that I don’t
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Post by ilb on Apr 12, 2005 16:22:11 GMT -6
i love it scrappy!!!
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Apr 12, 2005 16:24:07 GMT -6
Thanks Bud....ok for my first public effort?
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Post by ilb on Apr 12, 2005 16:46:42 GMT -6
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Post by marysgurl1 on Apr 13, 2005 3:18:03 GMT -6
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Apr 13, 2005 14:50:45 GMT -6
Thank you ma'am....maybe I'll get brave and start posting more.
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Post by Gabbin on Apr 13, 2005 22:26:18 GMT -6
Very nice poetry, ladies.
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Post by marysgurl1 on Apr 16, 2005 4:16:37 GMT -6
For a very special friend of mine...... "Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the things you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the tradewinds in your sails. Explore. Dream." Mark Twain
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Post by Scrappy Amazon on Apr 29, 2005 0:25:21 GMT -6
Thanks for the advice Q....looks like I'll be taking you up on it.
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Post by gwenyver on Apr 29, 2005 1:04:20 GMT -6
Playground of the Mind
You watch me like a cat stalking its prey With hooded eyes all fire and desire I drown in your need helpless to resist My mind goes to that place Where you’re touching and tasting No one to watch or see Molten lava in my blood Lighting across my skin Demanding satisfaction Sweat soaked sheets Bruised flesh Moaning through clenched teeth Thoughts tormented by dreams unfulfilled
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Post by marysgurl1 on Apr 30, 2005 20:34:31 GMT -6
Goodness, Gwen.....how did you get that past those mods...!!!.... ....I think I need a cool drink..... Anyways...on our bi-weekly Saturday rendezvous at the library I picked this book up & couldn't put it down...the coolest little book...this was in the front.....I read it over & over to the girls & Mary & to the girls again... The Monkey's Viewpoint Three monkeys sat in a coconut tree, Discussing things as they're said to be Said one to the others: "now listen you two, There's a certain rumor that can't be true: "That man descended from our noble race. The very idea is a disgrace.
No monkey ever deserted his wife, Starved her babies and ruined her life. And yhou've never known a mother monk To leave her babies with others to bunk.
"And another thing you'll never see, A monk build a fence around a coconut tree And let the coconuts go to waste, Forbidding all other monks to taste. Why, if I'd put a fence around the tree, Starvation would force you to steal from me.
"Here's another thing a monk won't do: Go out at night and go on a stew. Or use a gun or club or knife, To take some other monkey's life. Yes, man descended...the ornery cuss, but, brother, he didn't descend from us." xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx---Anonymous
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