Poetry

[Digit]

As we seem to have gone all academic, a change from politics at least, I wonder if any body else has retained an interest in poetry since they left school, or have a piece they still remember?
One of my favourites is this


W. H. Davies
Leisure
WHAT is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?—

No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows:

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night:

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance:

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.



Roy.

 

[Karl]

Hi Roy

I haven't read that before. But it is typical of the kind of poetry which I enjoy reading - ie that which doesn't require the reader to think too deeply in order to disseminate the meaning of each line.

Cheers

Karl

 

[davegw]

An absolute classic Roy - thanks for reminding me of it!

 

[Digit]

Also I think relevant to us as we grow older and learn to value other than material things, plus

The kiss of the sun for pardon

The song of the birds for mirth

One is nearer to God's heart in the garden

Than anywhere else on earth



Dorothy Gurney

1858 - 1952

also relevant to us gardeners,

Roy.

 

[davegw]

Slightly Less reverent - but true all the same

Philip Larkin - This Be The Verse


They f**k you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

But they were f**ked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

 

[Steve Maskery]

=D> =D> =D> =D> =D>

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know,
His house is in the village though.
He will not see me stopping here,
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer,
T o stop without a farmhouse near,
Between the woods and frozen lake,
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake,
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep,
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

-- Robert Frost




And then there is always:


There was a young lady called Kitty....

 

[Smudger]

God knows I'm not religious, but I've always been moved by Gerard Manley Hopkins' poems in praise of nature:

Pied Beauty


GLORY be to God for dappled things—
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

 

[davegw]

God knows I'm not religious

LOL

I love it poetry and irony! Now this really is Radio 4!

 

[davegw]

God knows I'm not religious

LOL

I love it poetry and irony! Now this really is Radio 4!

 

[PowerTool]

My favourite piece of poetry is by the comic genius,Spike Milligan,entitled "Rain"

"There are holes in the sky
where the rain gets in,
but they are ever so small
which is why rain is thin!"



Andrew

 

[Rich]

As we seem to have gone all academic, a change from politics at least, I wonder if any body else has retained an interest in poetry since they left school, or have a piece they still remember?
One of my favourites is this


W. H. Davies
Leisure
WHAT is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?—

No time to stand beneath the boughs,
And stare as long as sheep and cows:

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night:

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance:

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began?

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.



Roy.

Hi Roy, I narrated this to my wife when we first were married, she liked it so much I promised to make a wooden plaque bearing the same, sadly I have'nt got around to it as yet, It's a lovely poem and should be required reading for those in hospital, suffering from stress, heart attacks and strokes.

Regards,
Rich.

 

[Digit]

Yes, I agree Rich, to me it sums up all that is worthwhile in life.

Roy.

 

[Nigel]

I have a print of the poem on my wall still waiting for the frame I promised SHMBO :roll:

nigel

 

[Rich]

Seems like we all have good intentions, just not enough hours in the day, I'll have to see if I can borrow some of Mailees.

Regards,
Rich.

 

[Oryxdesign]

I find this touching:

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.

In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand. Sometimes there were two sets of footprints, other times there was one only.

This bothered me because I noticed that during the low periods of my life, when I was suffering from anguish, sorrow or defeat, I could see only one set of footprints, so I said to the Lord,

“You promised me Lord,
that if I followed you, you would walk with me always. But I have noticed that during the most trying periods of my life there has only been one set of footprints in the sand. Why, when I needed you most, have you not been there for me?”

The Lord replied, “The years when you have seen only one set of footprints, my child, is when I carried you.”

Mary Stevenson, 1936

 

[opener]

We were made to learn this at school 40yrs ago and although I don't have much interest in poetry I can still remember the first verse and find the whole thing very evocative of the English countryside and trains.

Adlestrop

by Edward Thomas


Yes. I remember Adlestrop—
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop—only the name

And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

And for that minute a blackbird sang
Close by, and round him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.


Cheers
Malcolm

 

[Smudger]

Naming of Parts

Today we have naming of parts. Yesterday,
We had daily cleaning. And tomorrow morning,
We shall have what to do after firing. But today,
Today we have naming of parts. Japonica
Glistens like coral in all of the neighboring gardens,
And today we have naming of parts.

This is the lower sling swivel. And this
Is the upper sling swivel, whose use you will see,
When you are given your slings. And this is the piling swivel,
Which in your case you have not got. The branches
Hold in the gardens their silent, eloquent gestures,
Which in our case we have not got.

This is the safety-catch, which is always released
With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me
See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy
If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms
Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see
Any of them using their finger.

And this you can see is the bolt. The purpose of this
Is to open the breech, as you see. We can slide it
Rapidly backwards and forwards: we call this
Easing the spring. And rapidly backwards and forwards
The early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers:
They call it easing the Spring.

They call it easing the Spring: it is perfectly easy
If you have any strength in your thumb: like the bolt,
And the breech, and the cocking-piece, and the point of balance,
Which in our case we have not got; and the almond-blossom
Silent in all of the gardens and the bees going backwards and forwards,
For today we have naming of parts.

Henry Reed

 

[Tusses]

ok , to link to another thread (no ! not that one )

about who you would have liked to have met....

a few from Lao Tzu (Chinese philosopher - founder of Taoism ('Dowism') )

ok - so its physiology, but history theories he wrote it as poems 1st

It is a bit heavy and to make some sense of it, you will need to know that Tao - translates loosely to 'The way' of life/nature - or the order of our universe

The Taoist philosophy was basically , humans are messing up the world with their desires of wealth and power and can perhaps best be summed up in a quote from Chuang Tzu:

"To regard the fundamental as the essence, to regard things as coarse, to regard accumulation as deficiency, and to dwell quietly alone with the spiritual and the intelligent -- herein lie the techniques of Tao of the ancients."



Here we go - hope you enjoy

____________________________


The five colours blind the eye.
The five tones deafen the ear.
The five flavours dull the taste.
Racing and hunting madden the mind.
Precious things lead one astray.

Therefore the sage is guided by what he feels and not by what he sees.
He lets go of that and chooses this.

______________

Look, it cannot be seen - it is beyond form.
Listen, it cannot be heard - it is beyond sound.
Grasp, it cannot be held - it is intangible.
These three are indefinable, they are one.

From above it is not bright;
From below it is not dark:
Unbroken thread beyond description.
It returns to nothingness.
Form of the formless,
Image of the imageless,
It is called indefinable and beyond imagination.

Stand before it - there is no beginning.
Follow it and there is no end.
Stay with the Tao, Move with the present.

Knowing the ancient beginning is the essence of Tao.

_________________

The Tao abides in non-action,
Yet nothing is left undone.
If kings and lords observed this,
The ten thousand things would develop naturally.
If they still desired to act,
They would return to the simplicity of formless substance.
Without form there is no desire.
Without desire there is tranquillity.
In this way all things would be at peace.

_______________________________

Why are people starving?
Because the rulers eat up the money in taxes.
Therefore the people are starving.

Why are the people rebellious?
Because the rulers interfere too much.
Therefore they are rebellious.

Why do people think so little of death?
Because the rulers demand too much of life.
Therefore the people take life lightly.

Having to live on, one knows better than to value life too much.

 

[Tom K]

Tusses I think your talking bol#@cks now :lol:

Regards Tom

That should probably be you are talking bol#@cks now.

 

[Digit]

Another of my favourites, by Kipling,

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!


Roy.