' Live-Poets Society ' – A Corner For Poetry

[Parker Owens]

2 hours ago, mollyhousemouse said:

hey y'all

tim did some writing and it's very good! y'all should check it out

 

 

Very Good is an understatement.  It's superb. I am about to re-re-re-read it. You should, too.

[Mikiesboy]

4 minutes ago, Parker Owens said:

 

Very Good is an understatement.  It's superb. I am about to re-re-re-read it. You should, too.

@mollyhousemouse and @Parker Owens   aww thank you. i 'm glad you enjoyed it!

[AC Benus]

Anyone else feel this way...?

 

 

Vivaldi wrote the Seasons

Botticelli painted La primavera

and I change the screen door

 

Of all the ways in the world

to trace the miracle change of the world

I mark it in the lowliest way

 

They greeted the spring with joy

and the fall with registration

but I, I change the screen door.

 

 

Edited April 20, 2018 by AC Benus

[Mikiesboy]

4 minutes ago, AC Benus said:

Anyone else feel this way...?

 

 

Vivaldi wrote the Seasons

Botticelli painted La primavera

and I change the screen door

 

Of all the ways in the world

to trace the miracle change of the world

I mark it in the lowliest way

 

They greeted the spring with joy

and the fall with registration

but I, I change the screen door.

Brilliant!  Yes...

[mollyhousemouse]

45 minutes ago, AC Benus said:

Anyone else feel this way...?

 

 

Vivaldi wrote the Seasons

Botticelli painted La primavera

and I change the screen door

 

Of all the ways in the world

to trace the miracle change of the world

I mark it in the lowliest way

 

They greeted the spring with joy

and the fall with registration

but I, I change the screen door.

i don't think that this is lowly at all!

the way i see it is that you are putting up the door to allow spring IN

it's time to throw open the heavy door that kept the cold at bay and rejoin the world

like an animal coming out of hibernation

[Mikiesboy]

49 minutes ago, mollyhousemouse said:

i don't think that this is lowly at all!

the way i see it is that you are putting up the door to allow spring IN

it's time to throw open the heavy door that kept the cold at bay and rejoin the world

like an animal coming out of hibernation

That's very good, molly! And so true, we can't wait to open windows..and doors..

[MacGreg]

I've been reading Wanderlust and the Whiskey Bottle Parallel by Dave Matthes - poetry and short stories. Like Bukowski, his work is unrefined and filled with misogyny, but if you can look beyond some of the tasteless subject matter, you'll discover some true gems. I personally appreciate his candor and rawness of self-expression. Here's one that stood out to me today:

 

(Untitled)

I met a man once while in the woods

I suppose he was there for the same reason as I

seclusion

isolation

permeation

meditation

translation perhaps

perhaps he was just wandering

He said to me,

"Obscene, isn't it? How all these trees can grow to be so

tall and beautiful... yet here they remain? Never moving

where their roots won't allow. They are born here, and

they die here."

 

If he had a point, I'll never know.

The drink has dulled my mind

and deafened the necessary parts of my soul

Maybe that's what he was talking about

Maybe that's why he came to the woods

 

Deterioration.

[Mikiesboy]

2 minutes ago, MacGreg said:

I've been reading Wanderlust and the Whiskey Bottle Parallel by Dave Matthes - poetry and short stories. Like Bukowski, his work is unrefined and filled with misogyny, but if you can look beyond some of the tasteless subject matter, you'll discover some true gems. I personally appreciate his candor and rawness of self-expression. Here's one that stood out to me today:

 

(Untitled)

I met a man once while in the woods

I suppose he was there for the same reason as I

seclusion

isolation

permeation

meditation

translation perhaps

perhaps he was just wandering

He said to me,

"Obscene, isn't it? How all these trees can grow to be so

tall and beautiful... yet here they remain? Never moving

where their roots won't allow. They are born here, and

they die here."

 

If he had a point, I'll never know.

The drink has dulled my mind

and deafened the necessary parts of my soul

Maybe that's what he was talking about

Maybe that's why he came to the woods

 

Deterioration.

oh!  who is this person.. this writer. .i'll look for more after i finish A's story.. wow.. that is refreshing.. alive.. like a drink of water...  

[AC Benus]

5 hours ago, MacGreg said:

I've been reading Wanderlust and the Whiskey Bottle Parallel by Dave Matthes - poetry and short stories. Like Bukowski, his work is unrefined and filled with misogyny, but if you can look beyond some of the tasteless subject matter, you'll discover some true gems. I personally appreciate his candor and rawness of self-expression. Here's one that stood out to me today:

 

(Untitled)

I met a man once while in the woods

I suppose he was there for the same reason as I

seclusion

isolation

permeation

meditation

translation perhaps

perhaps he was just wandering

He said to me,

"Obscene, isn't it? How all these trees can grow to be so

tall and beautiful... yet here they remain? Never moving

where their roots won't allow. They are born here, and

they die here."

 

If he had a point, I'll never know.

The drink has dulled my mind

and deafened the necessary parts of my soul

Maybe that's what he was talking about

Maybe that's why he came to the woods

 

Deterioration.

"...deafened the necessary parts of my soul..." I'm quite struck by that. The knowing that perhaps more is meant than the mind can grasp at any one point in time. That's an awareness almost as great as 'understanding' itself.  

 

It's great that you shared this poem and poet with us

 

Edited April 22, 2018 by AC Benus

[Emi GS]

Congratulations to every poet who successfully completed their National Poetry Writing Month. I know i have been away, a lot, but remember I always try to step in and read from here whenever I can... Love you all guys and miss you so much... 

[northie]

Miss you too, @Emi GS . 

[Mikiesboy]

Any poets around here? You should read this then.

[mollyhousemouse]

1 hour ago, Mikiesboy said:

Any poets around here? You should read this then.

thanks for sharing that tim!

it's an amazing translation and an amazing poem

this poet weaves (lol read the poem) such a picture with his words

[MichaelS36]

4 hours ago, Mikiesboy said:

Any poets around here? You should read this then.

 

2 hours ago, mollyhousemouse said:

thanks for sharing that tim!

it's an amazing translation and an amazing poem

this poet weaves (lol read the poem) such a picture with his words

I'm no poet, but I do my best to support you. Club has a lot of members.  It's a shame you don't all come out and talk, or at least read each other's work! 

[Mikiesboy]

7 hours ago, MichaelS36 said:

 

I'm no poet, but I do my best to support you. Club has a lot of members.  It's a shame you don't all come out and talk, or at least read each other's work! 

i dont know why .. this thread used to get a lot of people talking, but since it became a club or circle or whatever it is, that doesnt happen as much now. 

[mollyhousemouse]

hey y'all

wanted to clue you in to some poems from tim today

they're all so good!

check out Five for Friday in tim's Bits and Pieces

 

 

 

[AC Benus]

"Perfect love is the most beautiful of all frustrations,

because it's more than one can express."

Charles Chaplin

 

Edited May 7, 2018 by AC Benus

[mollyhousemouse]

hey y'all!

seems i do this a lot, but that's because i want to share what i have read.

have you seen AC's latest sonnets?

check out chapter 44, you won't regret it!

 

[AC Benus]

54 minutes ago, mollyhousemouse said:

hey y'all!

seems i do this a lot, but that's because i want to share what i have read.

have you seen AC's latest sonnets?

check out chapter 44, you won't regret it!

 

Thanks, Molly

[mollyhousemouse]

4 minutes ago, AC Benus said:

Thanks, Molly

you're more than welcome AC

they are beautiful, i've read most of the 87 and they are all beautiful

[Parker Owens]

1 hour ago, mollyhousemouse said:

hey y'all!

seems i do this a lot, but that's because i want to share what i have read.

have you seen AC's latest sonnets?

check out chapter 44, you won't regret it!

 

 

I quite agree...

[AC Benus]

I've been typing up more of my old poems from my notebooks. Here's one I wrote after college, and for my first boyfriend, Brian. I feel my studying of verse was finally paying off, and my skills sharpening. What do you think?

 

----------------------------------

 

 

If while I slept the while away

a Muse came and stole my tongue someday –

crept between open curtains did,

slithered ‘round my rug and in bed slid

with passionate thought of a lurid kiss,

low-seducing lips uncoiling a hiss –

my sleeping tongue aroused by hers

might abandon me when her favor lures. 

 

 

When the first light of night

broke through my window

and fell upon my floor,

it found me there

with pen in hand,

and you in heart.

 

 

And in that light

I faded near away

to another shady sight

of a place so far afield,

that time seemed its equal,

and I but cast adrift.

 

 

On another floor was I –

at a different light did look –

through the windowpane

shone the full face of torment

caused now as then

by a wilding moon.

 

 

Underneath me was

a floor of a different kind,

support from other regions

which vanish only when

names get tagged to them;

when hopes from them are craved.

 

 

Rang true the voice

asking me what I want;

sincere the look

that said I didn’t know;

for the spirit of the desire

is yet beyond me now.

 

 

Calm were the eyes

which asked me for my hand;

quaking was the heart

that handed it there,

softly delivered

unto your waiting touch.

 

 

Adrift the waves of night

midway ‘tween dream and world –

as the sleepy specter

ever crept her gain –

I never had

the fear I fight with now.

 

 

The thought to worry,

though drowsy were my eyes

and inactive were my limbs,

never before on a countless level

could I make claim

to ever be more awake. 

 

 

So how can I,

at once adrift in two lights,

perceive which is true:

the hand that touched me there

with the greatest wonder known,

or the drifting sight upon my eyes?

 

 

I loved you then

as I love you now;

sweet wonder that it can live

astride the crater of time

in hopeless lapse of another

chance for what never was.

 

 

 

And if while I slept the while some day,

a Muse came to steal my tongue away,

she would turn a very startled head

at the odd things her new tongue said,

and woe behold that muse of mine,

for that wagging thing by rights is thine;

it can speak of no other heart but yours,

and with words alone your memory endures.

 

 

_

Edited May 9, 2018 by AC Benus

[Parker Owens]

@AC Benus Why, oh why, was Brian the lucky one to be the recipient of this wonderful poem - such a lucky boyfriend. Yes, you were developing far beyond my own powers, then or now. 

[Mikiesboy]

Your mind is simply beautiful.  And yes, your new life opened new doors... xo

[asamvav111]

On 5/9/2018 at 10:44 PM, AC Benus said:

I've been typing up more of my old poems from my notebooks. Here's one I wrote after college, and for my first boyfriend, Brian. I feel my studying of verse was finally paying off, and my skills sharpening. What do you think?

 

----------------------------------

 

 

If while I slept the while away

a Muse came and stole my tongue someday –

crept between open curtains did,

slithered ‘round my rug and in bed slid

with passionate thought of a lurid kiss,

low-seducing lips uncoiling a hiss –

my sleeping tongue aroused by hers

might abandon me when her favor lures. 

 

 

When the first light of night

broke through my window

and fell upon my floor,

it found me there

with pen in hand,

and you in heart.

 

 

And in that light

I faded near away

to another shady sight

of a place so far afield,

that time seemed its equal,

and I but cast adrift.

 

 

On another floor was I –

at a different light did look –

through the windowpane

shone the full face of torment

caused now as then

by a wilding moon.

 

 

Underneath me was

a floor of a different kind,

support from other regions

which vanish only when

names get tagged to them;

when hopes from them are craved.

 

 

Rang true the voice

asking me what I want;

sincere the look

that said I didn’t know;

for the spirit of the desire

is yet beyond me now.

 

 

Calm were the eyes

which asked me for my hand;

quaking was the heart

that handed it there,

softly delivered

unto your waiting touch.

 

 

Adrift the waves of night

midway ‘tween dream and world –

as the sleepy specter

ever crept her gain –

I never had

the fear I fight with now.

 

 

The thought to worry,

though drowsy were my eyes

and inactive were my limbs,

never before on a countless level

could I make claim

to ever be more awake. 

 

 

So how can I,

at once adrift in two lights,

perceive which is true:

the hand that touched me there

with the greatest wonder known,

or the drifting sight upon my eyes?

 

 

I loved you then

as I love you now;

sweet wonder that it can live

astride the crater of time

in hopeless lapse of another

chance for what never was.

 

 

 

And if while I slept the while some day,

a Muse came to steal my tongue away,

she would turn a very startled head

at the odd things her new tongue said,

and woe behold that muse of mine,

for that wagging thing by rights is thine;

it can speak of no other heart but yours,

and with words alone your memory endures.

 

 

_

How much do you really need to love a person for such a verse to reveal itself to you?