Favourite Poems

[smjohn]

I posted this one on the old board, so in honor of my Grandmother I'll post it here, for she is the one who taught it to me when I was but knee high to a grasshopper.


Mary had a little lamb
she tied him to the heater
and every time he turned around
he burned his little peter

Thank you.

I love your grandmother

[Gwenivere]

Fair Jessica
By
Bobette Bryan
http://www.underworldtales.com/poetry.htm


Darkness calling
Shadows falling in the creepy anteroom,
I stood upon the basement stairs,
And pondered all the gloom
Jessica, Fair Jessica
Is buried just below.
Spewing, seeping, rotting, reeking
Into the earth so slow.
Moonlight splashing
Starlight flashing in the bleakness of the night,
I stood upon the manor porch
And remembered the desperate plight
Jessica, fair Jessica
Ever heavy on my mind.
Stabbing, clawing, choking, mauling
Of the most laborious kind.
Raindrops falling
Lightning galling in the early morning light.
I stood next to the rotted corpse
And cut her up just right.
Jessica, fair Jessica
Would fit in the trunk somehow.
Sawing, hacking, riping, slashing,
The task was utterly foul!
Sunlight blistering,
Water glistering in the brightness of the day
I hauled the trunk into the sea
And watched it float away.
Jessica, fair Jessica,
Now your home is far below.
Drifting, sinking, rocking, drinking
With the hue of an algael glow.
-The End-

[bookworm101]

I love your grandmother

me too, I miss her.

[cleon02]

Here are some poems by one of my favorite authors, H. P. Lovecraft: Yule Horror
by H. P. Lovecraft


There is snow on the ground,
And the valleys are cold,
And a midnight profound
Blackly squats o'er the wold;
But a light on the hilltops half-seen hints of feastings un- hallowed and old.

There is death in the clouds,
There is fear in the night,
For the dead in their shrouds
Hail the sin's turning flight.
And chant wild in the woods as they dance round a Yule- altar fungous and white.

To no gale of Earth's kind
Sways the forest of oak,
Where the sick boughs entwined
By mad mistletoes choke,
For these pow'rs are the pow'rs of the dark, from the graves of the lost Druid-folk.


The Cats
by H. P. Lovecraft

Babels of blocks to the high heavens towering
Flames of futility swirling below;
Poisonous fungi in brick and stone flowering,
Lanterns that shudder and death-lights that glow.


Black monstrous bridges across oily rivers,
Cobwebs of cable to nameless things spun;
Catacomb deeps whose dank chaos delivers
Streams of live foetor that rots in the sun.


Colour and splendour, disease and decaying,
Shrieking and ringing and crawling insane,
Rabbles exotic to stranger-gods praying,
Jumbles of odour that stifle the brain.


Legions of cats from the alleys nocturnal.
Howling and lean in the glare of the moon,
Screaming the future with mouthings infernal,
Yelling the Garden of Pluto's red rune.


Tall towers and pyramids ivy'd and crumbling,
Bats that swoop low in the weed-cumber'd streets;
Bleak Arkham bridges o'er rivers whose rumbling
Joins with no voice as the thick horde retreats.


Belfries that buckle against the moon totter,
Caverns whose mouths are by mosses effac'd,
And living to answer the wind and the water,
Only the lean cats that howl in the wastes.

Where Once Poe Walked
by H. P. Lovecraft

Eternal brood the shadows on this ground,
Dreaming of centuries that have gone before;
Great elms rise solemnly by slab and mound,
Arched high above a hidden world of yore.
Round all the scene a light of memory plays,
And dead leaves whisper of departed days,
Longing for sights and sounds that are no more.


Lonely and sad, a specter glides along
Aisles where of old his living footsteps fell;
No common glance discerns him, though his song
Peals down through time with a mysterious spell.
Only the few who sorcery's secret know,
Espy amidst these tombs the shade of Poe.

[Patricia A]

This is not a poem. It's more of a video essay I suppose. I just thought I'd share it with you guys. Be warned though, it may offend people who are defensive about their religious beliefs and evolution etc, so if anyone gets up about it, remember... you were warned.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a15KgyXBX24

[Harley Wench]

The lightning passed and the rain ceased,
the tide slipped out of Half Moon Beach.
I thought of pirates and salty dogs,
as children ran along driftwood logs.
I crouched low at the water's lip,
the sun returned to guide a tall ship.
A toddler dug with shovel and pail,
a sea breeze billowed the ship's tall sail.
My eyes rolled over seaweed and sand,
the salt in my nose was heavenly grand.
I saw something then, amongst bits of shell,
above me, a black backed gull let out a yell.
I pulled it out of the sopping wet grit,
and used my shirt to clean it a bit.
A smile slowly slid over my face,
as two teenage boys swam a race.
Inside, a story began cooking with gas,
while I admired my cobalt sea glass.
I tucked it away, keeping it safe,
took a long look at this ancient place.
The ship was nearly gone from view,
and the sea glass, well, I found a few.
There's no rhyme or reason for telling you this,
only that, at the shore, do I find bliss.
~Sea Glass
Biff

[rlg]

For those of you whom have yet to read it and for those of you who wish to read it again, and again, and again....

http://http://www.heise.de/ix/raven/.../TheRaven.html

Enjoy
Robert

[GuitarDemiGod]

My own poems as well as these few...

On The Eve Of His Execution by Chidiock Tichbourne
The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot
The Hollow Men by T.S. Eliot
One and Twenty by A.E. Housman

[mstay]

I haven't looked at this thread until today. It is fantastic!

John - your song about women is beautiful.

MM and La Bella - I also like Maya Angelou. "Ain't I A Woman" is one of my favorites.

[mstay]

Okay...

Turns out I'm an idiot

"Ain't I A Woman" is really a speech from Sojourner Truth, who was a black slave. I heard a reading of it given by Maya Angelou. Sorry.

But it's really good anyway. Here it is:

That man over there says that women need to be helped into carriages, and lifted over ditches, and to have the best place everywhere.
Nobody ever helps me into carriages, or over mud-puddles, or gives me any best place!
And ain't I a woman?
Look at me! Look at my arm! I have ploughed and planted, and gathered into barns, and no man could head me!
And ain't I a woman? I could work as much and eat as much as a man - when I could get it - and bear the lash as well!
And ain't I a woman?
I have borne thirteen children, and seen most all sold off to slavery, and when I cried out with my mother's grief, none but Jesus heard me!
And ain't I a woman?