Theologian in Training Posted February 16, 2004 Author Share Posted February 16, 2004 Dylan Thomas Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night W.H. Auden Funeral Blues Frank O'Hara (This guy was amesome. He died tragically, as most poets do) (A member of what came to be known as the New York City Poets, Ashberry was also a part of that as well as a few others--they were very Neo-Beat generation. For the sake of purity, I have refrained from posting the actual beats, since this is, after all, a family site) The Day Lady Died (The poem about the death of Billy Holiday, absolutely phenomenal!) Why I am Not A Painter (A poem about the creative art) Lana Turner Has Collapsed W.S. Merwin (proabably the greatest translator for Pablo Neruda's works) My Friends Air Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Theologian in Training Posted February 16, 2004 Author Share Posted February 16, 2004 Oh, and I LOVE this one by William Wordsworth!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wandered lonely as a cloud I WANDERED lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host, of golden daffodils; Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never-ending line Along the margin of a bay: 10 Ten thousand saw I at a glance, Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced; but they Out-did the sparkling waves in glee: A poet could not but be gay, In such a jocund company: I gazed--and gazed--but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought: For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, 20 They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils. Yes a very good one indeed. I also like his Tintern Abbey Incidentally, I found this at New Advent about the actual Tintern Abbey God Bless Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Theologian in Training Posted February 16, 2004 Author Share Posted February 16, 2004 Some of these deal with those questioning their faith. I am not advocating a coup, rather , sometimes it is interesting to see how others dealt with their own questions of faith Wallace Stevens Sunday Morning Philip Larkin Church Going Matthew Arnold Dover Beach Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
cathgirl Posted February 16, 2004 Share Posted February 16, 2004 Oh how i LOOOVE poetry!! :wub: DITTO!!! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Theologian in Training Posted February 17, 2004 Author Share Posted February 17, 2004 bump.... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Colleen Posted February 17, 2004 Share Posted February 17, 2004 Ooh, poetry! Robert Frost -- The Pasture Robert Service -- Carry On! William Butler Yeats -- The Lake Isle of Innisfree just a few! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Theologian in Training Posted February 18, 2004 Author Share Posted February 18, 2004 Nice, I am really happy that people are enjoying this thread. Keep them coming....this is great!!!!! God Bless Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Theologian in Training Posted February 18, 2004 Author Share Posted February 18, 2004 Francis Thompson Hound of Heaven Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Colleen Posted February 18, 2004 Share Posted February 18, 2004 I put this one on our refrigerator! The Vulture -- By Hilaire Belloc It actually works. Sometimes, that is. :rolleyes: Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Theologian in Training Posted February 19, 2004 Author Share Posted February 19, 2004 A.R Ammons So I Said I Am Ezra Rainer Maria Rilke The Poet Edgar Allen Poe All Poems His tribute to Mary: Hymn Walt Whitman made famous by "Dead Poet's Society" O Captain! My Captain! Song of Myself (my favorite part about contradiction Song of Myself Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Colleen Posted February 20, 2004 Share Posted February 20, 2004 A.R Ammons So I Said I Am Ezra Rainer Maria Rilke The Poet Edgar Allen Poe All Poems His tribute to Mary: Hymn Walt Whitman made famous by "Dead Poet's Society" O Captain! My Captain! Song of Myself (my favorite part about contradiction Song of Myself I love walt whitman! and i found that Poe poem to Mary a few months ago. I was really surprised that he wrote that! My favorite poem to recite when I'm doing a paper: Homework! Oh Homework! by Jack Prelutsky Homework, oh homework, I hate you, you stink! :irate: Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Theologian in Training Posted February 20, 2004 Author Share Posted February 20, 2004 I love walt whitman! and i found that Poe poem to Mary a few months ago. I was really surprised that he wrote that! My favorite poem to recite when I'm doing a paper: Homework! Oh Homework! by Jack Prelutsky Homework, oh homework, I hate you, you stink! :irate: That Homework poem is amesome! I like that very much...put a smile on my face I did a paper a while back comparing Whitman to Neruda. I don't know why I am so intrigued by his line about contradiction (whitman, that is) but I love it. As to the Poe poem, I forget how I found it. Oh, that's right, I got a collected works of Poe from Barnes and Noble real cheap, and saw a poem simply entitled, "Hymn." As I was reading this, I thought to myself, wow, he is talking about the Angelus. That was so cool. I am convinced he had to have been near a church when he wrote, since he wrote that poem, and how he speaks about being driven insane by the "bells, bells, bells." I don't know the history, and it would probably not be a bad thing to check out when I get some time, but since he was talking about the bells, especially the different instances in which he refers to them, be it at night, during the day, during a funeral or what appears to even be Mass. BTW, have you ever read Allen Ginsberg? He wrote very much in the style of Whitman. I have refrained posting some of his poems, because they contain profanity, and some refer to explicity homosexual acts or, at least, infer them. Also, Thank you Colleen for keeping this thread going God Bless Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Laudate_Dominum Posted February 20, 2004 Share Posted February 20, 2004 (edited) This one is about the modern world, the loss of self, frustration, failure, disappointment, confusion, struggle, abandonment, self-hatred, personal existence in the face of the appearant absurdity of reality. It's something dark and vaguely post-modern. fables transforming children eating and sleeping darkness eats alive the deeper thoughts she vanished like the flowers, underneath the snow who will wait for such as these? depart from me nothing is nothing evil tar falls from the purple sky upon our soft young faces nothing left inside or out but cold, dead, empty spaces sockets where those eyes once lived grinning teeth where lips once sang I used to love you if you know I'd love you again if this freakin death would eat me first spiraling backwards and under sinister wastelands covering faces, anonymous faces silent gripping, raging madness descending forthwith lovely smiles tearing, gnashing, ripping smashing terrible, terrible, death black night eating chips and dealing darkness falling yet again falling, falling wishing nothing who cares anymore shredded whole and creeping mashing bashing fleshly torment gashing shrill and silent unknown dealings piercing through the hardest hearings sounding, resounding turning up and down sideways it goes to mountains and pool halls throwing stones out windows to the watchmen who drive by dancing and singing with their purple hair as they wash peppermint in the cool spring afternoon with eloquent demons telling them what to do with utmost ease and pleasure, following after the fact to twist apart memories and dreams as if thats never been done before, because we know the way to the street we follow silently, effortlessly behind until the derangement is complete and the soft, pale whispers of the night penetrate the dew no more. Follow, follow along and die inside for all and once until the schizo marching band shows up on your doorstep hawking vacuum cleaners and chaos theory with those mints they put on your pillow and interesting young ladies from Africa who meet television stars in the streets of Calcutta because no one really lives there afterall and the people in the whorehouse were wrong about everything, they don't know John the Apostle from that skirt she wore last week when the manager visited with cream coagulated milk and salad, never introducing himself but sitting on top mountains dripping myrrh upon microphones that hum and whistle all night long until the deepest and darkest of them all recedes into faith, never to return again. Edited February 20, 2004 by Laudate_Dominum Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Theologian in Training Posted February 20, 2004 Author Share Posted February 20, 2004 This one is about the modern world, the loss of self, frustration, failure, disappointment, confusion, struggle, abandonment, self-hatred, personal existence in the face of the appearant absurdity of reality. It's something dark and vaguely post-modern. fables transforming children eating and sleeping darkness eats alive the deeper thoughts she vanished like the flowers, underneath the snow who will wait for such as these? depart from me nothing is nothing evil tar falls from the purple sky upon our soft young faces nothing left inside or out but cold, dead, empty spaces sockets where those eyes once lived grinning teeth where lips once sang I used to love you if you know I'd love you again if this freakin death would eat me first spiraling backwards and under sinister wastelands covering faces, anonymous faces silent gripping, raging madness descending forthwith lovely smiles tearing, gnashing, ripping smashing terrible, terrible, death black night eating chips and dealing darkness falling yet again falling, falling wishing nothing who cares anymore shredded whole and creeping mashing bashing fleshly torment gashing shrill and silent unknown dealings piercing through the hardest hearings sounding, resounding turning up and down sideways it goes to mountains and pool halls throwing stones out windows to the watchmen who drive by dancing and singing with their purple hair as they wash peppermint in the cool spring afternoon with eloquent demons telling them what to do with utmost ease and pleasure, following after the fact to twist apart memories and dreams as if thats never been done before, because we know the way to the street we follow silently, effortlessly behind until the derangement is complete and the soft, pale whispers of the night penetrate the dew no more. Follow, follow along and die inside for all and once until the schizo marching band shows up on your doorstep hawking vacuum cleaners and chaos theory with those mints they put on your pillow and interesting young ladies from Africa who meet television stars in the streets of Calcutta because no one really lives there afterall and the people in the whorehouse were wrong about everything, they don't know John the Apostle from that skirt she wore last week when the manager visited with cream coagulated milk and salad, never introducing himself but sitting on top mountains dripping myrrh upon microphones that hum and whistle all night long until the deepest and darkest of them all recedes into faith, never to return again. Who wrote it? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Theologian in Training Posted February 20, 2004 Author Share Posted February 20, 2004 Colleen, I shared that poem with a couple of guys here at the seminary and they loved it. I think I found a new poet to learn more about. Thank You God Bless Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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