Poetics and Poetry Discussion


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  • Gold Star - 18,524 Points Gangadharan Nair Pulingat (1/31/2015 9:08:00 AM) Post reply
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    I read today the famous poem of Rudyard Kipling " If" and it is marvelous and a human touch is there.

  • Freshman - 1,006 Points Gulsher John (1/29/2015 6:27:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Ohhh god, i am placed in category 2...woww tnx ph

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  • Gold Star - 15,473 Points Frank James Ryan Jr...fjr (1/29/2015 3:28:00 AM) Post reply | Read 2 replies

    A Visit To Your Home Amongst A Field of Stone...


    Thought it was time I stopped by to visit
    and yes, I brought flowers, don't you dare laugh!
    Habitual manners from an Irish upbringing,
    'Never visit one's homestead, uninvited or empty handed',
    that's what Mum always said, so I heed.

    Flowers are always freshest when laid
    upon mornings dew, while the Sun is still sleeping,
    yet, by noon, they'll be wilting by its hot yellow eye
    in the August haze, dying, decomposing.
    And my mind takes to thinking to itself
    how morosely apropos, these flowers be,
    considering the conditions beneath me.

    I knee-touch the bare soil, still settling,
    place the spray against your freshly cut stone.
    Flowers cannot speak, nor can you... or can you?
    I sense a breeze pass the nape of my neck, is it you?
    It must be, it has to be, for if not...
    I'm just standing here alone amongst a field of stone,
    listening to the breeze wisps behind me.

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  • Rookie - 128 Points Shifty Moriarty (1/28/2015 5:28:00 PM) Post reply

    From The Book of Nightmares

    Galway KInnell

    4

    This is the tenth poem
    and it is the last. It is right
    at the last, that one
    and zero
    walk off together,
    walk off the end of these pages together,
    one creature
    walking away side by side with the emptiness.

    Lastness
    is brightness. It is the brightness


    gathered up of all that went before. It lasts.
    And when it does end
    there is nothing, nothing
    left,

    in the rust of old cars,
    in the hole torn open in the body of the Archer,
    in river-mist smelling of the weariness of stones,
    the dead lie,
    empty, filled, at the beginning,

    and the first
    voice comes craving again out of their mouths.

  • Rookie - 537 Points Nathan Beery (1/27/2015 7:26:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    Peripathetically

    I recall upon a somber tone,
    A quiet night I sat alone
    Watching quietly the circle's pinnacle
    Seraph's song or Inferno's shackle-
    Perhaps not; then the endless circle?
    Behind the Rigor's door-
    Clamor cried, and somnolent silence...
    What lies on the distant shore?
    A poisoned wave, a solemn or shallow grave?
    I ruminate this grand hour late-
    Does a paradigm await the late?
    And now I pace, I pace-
    I pace from place to place,
    What awaits?That distant place?
    Nothing to show and less to set the pace-
    It is a quiet fear
    Not to know where we go-
    I doubt, I won't sleep to wake and not to wake
    To wake somewhere near...
    Is it tacit?Is everything sophistry?
    There is not one syllable of synopsis, nor
    Snippet of certainty, so I ponder and wander on, peripathetically
    on this paradoxical question now, eternally-

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    • Rookie - 537 Points The Pundit (1/27/2015 9:55:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

      This is an admirable effort in many ways, but a poem that doesn't make sense should be at least interesting. The poem seems like words thrown together without purpose. Sorry. Too fancy-schmancy.

  • Gold Star - 18,524 Points Gangadharan Nair Pulingat (1/26/2015 1:52:00 AM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    There we gets a good opportunity to read and write about various subjects of world and most I liked today is about peace. Peace is eternal voice and Peace in the world is to be maintained through proper actions and opinion makers have a roll to make the wonderful attempts to give inspiration to peace and better world order.

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    • Gold Star - 18,524 Points Professor Plum (1/27/2015 7:30:00 AM) Post reply

      Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord; He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword: H ... more

  • Rookie - 509 Points Adam M. Snow (1/25/2015 5:47:00 PM) Post reply

    A Poem
    Written by Adam M. Snow

    What I see
    beyond the horizon glow.
    Beyond the hues of purple and gold.
    Beyond the setting sun
    and the glittering of the bluish sea.
    I see a coming birth,
    a new day,
    new beginning.
    I see hope.

  • Freshman - 1,049 Points Dan Reynolds (1/25/2015 7:18:00 AM) Post reply

    Happy Burns Day to you
    Happy Burns Day to you
    Happy Burns Day dear PHers
    Happy Burns Day to you:

    Rabbie’s Eye
    (Robert Burns 1759-1796)

    The twenty-fifth of January
    A day when aw Scots smile
    Remembering the greatest bard
    Tay ever grace the “Royal Mile”
    This son of Ayr, of toil an moil
    Whose pen and wit, when put tay test
    Was courted by baith high and low
    Tay this day, still deemed, Scotia’s best

    Fur who c’d haud a candle
    Tay his banter, lush and loose
    Tay string sic words o wisdom fay
    A chance encoontur wi a moose
    Immortalised the humble haggis
    Hauf the world now know its fame
    An tho he loved the lassies o’
    Above them aw came Jeannie’s name.

    Tho only therty-seven years passed
    Afore his wick had burnt right oot
    His spirit, words an songs live still
    In those who choose tay follow suit.
    Tay lift his mantle, brave an braw
    Humanitarians, first, above aw.

    As Venus fades in a Winter sky
    I just see the winking, of Rabbie’s eye.

  • Rookie - 286 Points Jeremy Horsford (1/24/2015 6:17:00 AM) Post reply

    Life through a colleague's eyes 

    I have trust issues. Which no one person can be directly accused. 

    I have lived a life of being beaten and cheated. In many ways 
    psychologically defeated. 

    My small and petite stature, has left me open to the world's abuse. 
    My small and petite stature has set me up to have a life where I 
    constantly lose. 

    Why have I been designed for failure?Why is it I seem to attract 
    predatory creatures? 

    I am now of the mind where I expect to be hurt early on in relationships. 
    I find it difficult to resolve challenges within relationships. I run from 
    inexhaustible issues within relationships. 

    Something needs to change and I do not want to agree to a new a found 
    friend's opinion of my state of mind. Although I can see he will never 
    leave me behind.

  • Freshman - 1,380 Points Professor Plum (1/23/2015 10:18:00 PM) Post reply | Read 1 reply

    I just want to get Barry off the front slot. Hello everyone!

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