*
*
Home
Help
Search
Login
Register
Welcome, Guest. Please login or register.
Sep 21, 2014, 02:07:15 AM

Login with username, password and session length
Search: Advanced search
658017 Posts in 9261 Topics by 3396 Members Latest Member: - vlozan86 Most online today: 38 - most online ever: 494 (Jul 01, 2007, 02:59:53 PM)
Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 [6]
Print
Author Topic: A Poem a Day  (Read 28579 times)
0 Members and 1 Guest are viewing this topic.
MurkPlectrum
Registered user

Posts: 1014


« Reply #125 on: Aug 13, 2006, 09:13:13 PM »

Quote from: "reeseboisse"
ill. i have to say, i've actually been going through the archives at LPZ, and that's been keeping me busy.


Ha! It is our little secret why that's funny! Right! (Laura Sims also has stuff in LPZ. Mlinko might as well, I can't remember.)
Logged

I spend most of my time not dying. / That's what living is for.
SPACERACE
Registered user

Posts: 12155


« Reply #126 on: Aug 13, 2006, 09:17:33 PM »

yeah, i started when i googled laura sims' name. saw that and realized the archives have quite a bit to peruse.

shit ain't bad.
Logged

Supplier of highest-quality synthetic duck butter
Sing The Children Over
Registered user

Posts: 1210


« Reply #127 on: Aug 14, 2006, 01:05:30 AM »

'Sixteenth Canto' from The Sinking of the Titanic by Hans Magnus Enzensberger

The sinking of the Titanic proceeds according to plan.
It is copyrighted.
It is 100% tax deductible.
It is a lucky bag for poets.
It is further proof that the teachings of Vladimir Lenin are correct.
It will run next Sunday on Channel One as a spectator sport.
It is priceless.
It is inevitable.
It is better than nothing.
It closes down in July for holidays.
It is ecologically sound.
It shows the way to a better future.
It is Art.
It creates new jobs.
It is beginning to get on our nerves.
It has a solid working-class basis.
It arrives in the nick of time.
It works.
It is a breathtaking spectacle.
It ought to remind those in charge of their responsibility.
It isn't anymore what it used to be.
[/i]
Logged

The almighty dollar it ain't what it used to be.
morgan
Registered user

Posts: 3614


« Reply #128 on: Aug 14, 2006, 08:39:13 AM »

Saul Williams just posted this in a myspace bulletin, and as he is not only my favourite poet in the world, but also my favourite person, I thought I'd post it.  Because I like it.  


rise and shine

every morning
I rise and face
the firing squad

every morning
there is one
who holds his fire

his dilemma
is my system
of belief

they fire rounds
but I am seldom
in their circle

a quiet mind
is labeled "sound"
and colored purple

my little boy
has not yet learned
to color within lines

his jumbled diction
has not yet learned
our contradiction

we speak of art
with flaming passion
then do work
void of compassion

and wonder why
reality is bleeding fiction
Logged
Andrew_TSKS
Registered user

Posts: 39426


« Reply #129 on: Aug 14, 2006, 02:19:33 PM »

Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


when you do this, it makes what you edited out look worse than it could possibly have been if you'd just left it for people to read. also, it makes you look insecure. not to mention how fucking annoying it is. can't you just own up to the things you say for more than half an hour at a time? is that so scary?
Logged

I just want to be myself and I want you to love me for who I am.
RoyBiggins
Registered user

Posts: 6506


« Reply #130 on: Aug 14, 2006, 05:09:21 PM »

Andrew, that was the best poem I've read all day.  Put some funky line breaks in it and call it "Revisionist Historian."
Logged

This year's Village Voice Jizz and Pap list had a whole lot of birds I'd never even heard of before.
MurkPlectrum
Registered user

Posts: 1014


« Reply #131 on: Aug 14, 2006, 07:06:22 PM »

Quote from: "Andrew_TSKS"
Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


when you do this, it makes what you edited out look worse than it could possibly have been if you'd just left it for people to read. also, it makes you look insecure. not to mention how fucking annoying it is. can't you just own up to the things you say for more than half an hour at a time? is that so scary?


//
Logged

I spend most of my time not dying. / That's what living is for.
MurkPlectrum
Registered user

Posts: 1014


« Reply #132 on: Aug 14, 2006, 07:08:50 PM »

Quote from: "Andrew_TSKS"
Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


when you do this, it makes what you edited out look worse than it could possibly have been if you'd just left it for people to read. also, it makes you look insecure. not to mention how fucking annoying it is. can't you just own up to the things you say for more than half an hour at a time? is that so scary?


//
Logged

I spend most of my time not dying. / That's what living is for.
MurkPlectrum
Registered user

Posts: 1014


« Reply #133 on: Aug 14, 2006, 07:09:10 PM »

Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
Quote from: "Andrew_TSKS"
Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


Quote from: "MurkPlectrum"
//


when you do this, it makes what you edited out look worse than it could possibly have been if you'd just left it for people to read. also, it makes you look insecure. not to mention how fucking annoying it is. can't you just own up to the things you say for more than half an hour at a time? is that so scary?


//


//
Logged

I spend most of my time not dying. / That's what living is for.
Andrew_TSKS
Registered user

Posts: 39426


« Reply #134 on: Aug 14, 2006, 07:17:50 PM »

ok, i laughed.

Much Love, murk, of course. sorry if that post was a bit testy.
Logged

I just want to be myself and I want you to love me for who I am.
MurkPlectrum
Registered user

Posts: 1014


« Reply #135 on: Aug 14, 2006, 07:34:19 PM »

No problem, dude. Even I was annoyed by all my edits.
Logged

I spend most of my time not dying. / That's what living is for.
nonotyet
Registered user

Posts: 7691


« Reply #136 on: Aug 23, 2006, 04:38:54 PM »

"Ballad Of The Love-Scorned Anywoman"

Would it trouble you, at my behest,
to put a stuttering heart to rest?

This trouble's neither great nor tall?
So look at me, at least, or call.

My number's listed in the book, and
much is said with scattered look,

or not. Not operating, then
fling out that stevedore, and pen

a captive letter, deeply felt, as
lush and fired as African veldt.

God's love, we never had a fight!
We Walked in Beauty like the Night!

or somesuch. As you used to say??
perhaps that was another day.

Perhaps you listed me along
with All Else In My Life That's Wrong:

the idling sound that's not quite sound, the
ruined roast, the basset hound

you wanted but never seemed to get. And
you had studied to be a vet!

Perhaps I'm left in flounced heap
with all else limitless and cheap. Or

backyard flung to sootwashed bin,
with other snot-strung cherubim.

But I digress, and I'm forlorn.
My hands are weeping, chewed-off, torn.

I'd send them to The One I Love,
If Hallmark made a helpful glove.

My needs are drippy, short and clear:
could you last lilt out, "My Dear?"

Can't do? Be kind, if we're to be free?
I sucked your dick; be nice to me.

--Elizabeth Skurnick
Logged
Andrew_TSKS
Registered user

Posts: 39426


« Reply #137 on: Aug 24, 2006, 02:14:37 PM »

hey you know, i really liked that.
Logged

I just want to be myself and I want you to love me for who I am.
milly balgeary
Registered user

Posts: 11512


« Reply #138 on: Aug 25, 2006, 09:33:17 AM »

OMG POEM a day let me get my poemaday!

cod liver man

I take you, cold liver supplement
I take you on my tongue
I kiss you up and down
I lick your sweet, sweet lines

cod liver supplement you make me run around
I've got no time for anymore of -this-
I've got to take you to my bedroom
and lay you down

Cod liver supplement

Let me lay down on my bed and rip my shirt open
and grunt and dribble you out of my mouth so you
roll your golden way down my chest leaving a snail trail
of slieeeemmmmeee

Cod liver supplement

I love you as you go down and come up a little
I slowly penetrate the gel capsule
and the rush of cold liver in my throat
like the taste of raw fish, runs through my soul

Cod liver supplement

After we are finished I roll over and go to sleep
and you lay in my stomach, you cod liver
supplement.
Logged

nonotyet
Registered user

Posts: 7691


« Reply #139 on: Sep 01, 2006, 11:32:01 AM »

In the Department Store

    The lady of the porcelain department
    Smiles at the world through a set of false teeth.
    She is business-like and keeps a pencil in her hair

    But behind her sharpened eyes take flight
    The summer evenings in the park
    And heated nights in second story dance halls.

    Man's life is powerless and brief and dark
    It is not possible for me to make her happy.


                              --TS Eliot
Logged
jebreject
Registered user

Posts: 27071


« Reply #140 on: Dec 26, 2006, 09:23:53 PM »

"Bullets"

Listen all you bullets
that never hit:
a lot of throats are growing
in open collars
like frozen milk bottles
on a 5 a.m. street
throats that are waiting
for bite scars
but will settle
for bullet holes

You restless bullets
lost in swarms
from undecided wars:
fasten on
these nude throats
that need some decoration

I've done my own work:
I had 3 jewels
no more
and I have placed them
on my choices
jewels
although they performed
like bullets:
an instant of ruby
before the hands
came up
to stem the mess

And you over there
my little acrobat:
swing fast
After me
there is no care
and the air
is heavily armed
and has
the wildest aim

- Leonard Cohen
Logged

I'm not racist, I've got lots of black Facebook friends.
nonotyet
Registered user

Posts: 7691


« Reply #141 on: Dec 27, 2006, 02:08:21 PM »

The Kiss
The moment of anticipation is
part of the magic. It's like standing on the high
diving board, waiting for absolute stillness. There is
the certainty that a beautiful natural thing
is about to take place.

A thick short glass with
dew forming on the outside. Ice cubes that
look like huge raw diamonds
that have had their edges softened by the
persistent flow of a stream.

The glass is filled with color, with
longing. The color is like old copper, like
autumn leaves in a rain barrel, like
honey. The longing is for peace.

Then, the kiss.

Electric eels swim on the tongue.
The tears of an Indian Princess.
The piss of angels on Valentine's day.

A rough warm
snake crawls to the belly. Sherman's gentle
March to the Sea. Scottish lava
lovingly destroys Pompeii.
God's bitter love.
The Miracle Solvent coats the rusty machinery. The
heart isn't just beating, it's playing the
drum riff to "Be My Baby" by the
Ronettes.

Hurt is put into perspective. Faults are
forgivable. Every song is your song.
Hope is an option.

I am handsome, and at ease.

Another double, please.

--Dave Morrison
Logged
lucky strike
Registered user

Posts: 3220


« Reply #142 on: Dec 28, 2006, 01:35:46 PM »

this is my favorite thread. i love it. that saul williams poem is great!
Logged

LISTEN TO ME YOU SON OF A BITCH IM A DETECTIVE GOD DAMN IT
Pitchforkgossipcoluminst
Registered user

Posts: 73


« Reply #143 on: Jan 01, 2007, 07:11:43 PM »

I hate poetry. It ruined my life. Okay, I ruined my life, but poetry was there, looking over my shoulder and babbling on about the beauty of ruins. Akmatova, translation by Robert Bly (I think), but the mistakes are all mine.

Four o'clock. Night. Monday.
Some good-for-nothing - who knows why? -
made up the tale that love exists on earth.

People believe it, out of laziness, or boredom
and behave accordingly. They anticipate meetings,
fear partings, and when they sing, they sing about love.

But the secret reveals themselves to some,
and on them silence settles down. I found this out by accident,
and now it seems I'm sick all the time.
Logged
Good Intentions
Registered user

Posts: 13882


« Reply #144 on: Jan 01, 2007, 07:32:34 PM »

A joke account? With feelings? What a wonderful year this is turning out to be!
Logged
Pitchforkgossipcoluminst
Registered user

Posts: 73


« Reply #145 on: Jan 01, 2007, 07:52:20 PM »

Quote from: "Good Intentions"
A joke account? With feelings?


That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said about me!
Logged
Andrew_TSKS
Registered user

Posts: 39426


« Reply #146 on: Jan 01, 2007, 08:15:35 PM »

seriously, if this person continues posting regularly, it'll be the best new member since auto-da-fey and plainenglish joined.
Logged

I just want to be myself and I want you to love me for who I am.
FigPudding
Registered user

Posts: 24


« Reply #147 on: Jan 01, 2007, 10:33:42 PM »

nonotyet, eliot is my favorite poet. him and pound il miglior fabbrio

here's mine:
The Haunted Palace

by Edgar Allan Poe

In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace-
Radiant palace- reared its head.
In the monarch Thought's dominion-
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair!
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow,
(This- all this- was in the olden
Time long ago,)
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A winged odor went away.
Wanderers in that happy valley,
Through two luminous windows, saw
Spirits moving musically,
To a lute's well-tuned law,
Round about a throne where, sitting
(Porphyrogene!)
In state his glory well-befitting,
The ruler of the realm was seen.
And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,
And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
Was but to sing,
In voices of surpassing beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their king.
But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch's high estate.
(Ah, let us mourn!- for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him desolate!)
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
And travellers, now, within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms, that move fantastically
To a discordant melody,
While, like a ghastly rapid river,
Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever
And laugh- but smile no more.
Logged
Good Intentions
Registered user

Posts: 13882


« Reply #148 on: Jan 02, 2007, 04:53:12 AM »

Quote from: "Pitchforkgossipcoluminst"
Quote from: "Good Intentions"
A joke account? With feelings?


That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said about me!

A momentary lapse from my usual form, I'm sure.

I loved the poem.
Logged
Sasha
Registered user

Posts: 187


« Reply #149 on: Jan 02, 2007, 05:06:40 AM »

A Man Said To The Universe
by Stephen Crane (who is astoundingly on most of the time):

A man said to the universe:
“Sir, I exist!
“However,” replied the universe,
“The fact has not created in me
“A sense of obligation.”
Logged
Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 [6]
Print
LPTJ | Archives | The Hangar | Topic: A Poem a Day
Jump to:  

Powered by SMF 1.1.19 | SMF © 2013, Simple Machines
Board layout based on the Oxygen design by Bloc