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October 23, 2017, 08:39:50 AM
585675 Posts in 45134 Topics by 5976 Members
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Badmovies.org Forum  |  Other Topics  |  Off Topic Discussion  |  Poetry « previous next »
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Author Topic: Poetry  (Read 641 times)
Derf
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Lagomorphs: menace or underutilized resource?


« Reply #15 on: August 03, 2017, 08:16:58 AM »

I've got a friend who reads Wilfred Owen almost every time our poetry group meets (monthly). She is very taken with his imagery.

I am not a veteran, but here is my war poem:

One Week After the War

One week after the war,
I lay on the gurney, still as a headstone,
The only casualty of a battle
No one noticed,
An invisible soldier
Who jumped on a grenade he threw,
In order to save himself from an attack he instigated.
The heated skirmish raged for days,
Palpable hatred napalming
Both sides, hemmed in as they were in one body.
This was a war no one would winó
There werenít even any
Mercenary arms dealers to profit from the destruction.
People passed near by the front
Without a glance at the carnage.
Some even smiled and spoke,
But I couldnít hear them
Over the chaotic din of the duel:
Two war-ravaged adversaries,
Neither expecting a victory because winning was off the table.
I was just a grunt now,
Mechanically fighting against the enemy
Because someone told me to.
That someone may have been me, but I couldnít remember for sure.
All around were bombs exploding in clouds of paralyzing fear
And incendiary ordnance riddling my numbed body with the
Hellfire of doubt and self-loathing.
The enemy, both a reflection of me
And invisible in the darkness that clouded my eyes and heart,
Charged again and again,
Ignoring my increasingly pitiful resistance.
I cried for help. I begged for backup.
But the words died on lips parched and cracked
From days of fighting without eating.
Then, in the very picture of irony,
Both sides raised a white flag
As exhaustion sapped me of the will to fight.
And so I lay,
A victim of an invisible war
Being fought for no reason
With an outcome that made the whole thing pointless.
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"They tap dance not, neither do they fart." --Greensleeves, on the Fig Men of the Imagination, in "Twice Upon a Time."
ER
Frightening Fanatic of Horrible Cinema
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Karma: 624
Posts: 3728


The world becomes a dream....


« Reply #16 on: August 03, 2017, 08:55:35 AM »

Ivan Ivanovitch, Pragmatist

Ivan Ivanovitch was a pragmatist who kept his standards and expectations low.

In 1913, before the War and Revolution,
He had a house, five pigs, three goats, twenty chickens,
An ox, a small boat, three changes of clothes,
A grim wife, a cynical faith in Holy Church,
A nebulous image of God,
An oldest daughter often ill-used by the bastard son
Of the provincial tax assessor,
Three axes, four knives, two icons,
A holy relic bartered from a river-gypsy from Smolensk,
And a still hidden in the reeds.

Ivan Ivanovitch, after the Revolution, in 1923,
Had a house, a pig, two goats, twenty chickens,
A small boat, three changes of clothes,
A nebulous image of right and wrong,
A youngest daughter ill-used by a Bolshevik tax assessor,
Three axes, three knives,
A holy relic bartered from a river gypsy from Smolensk,
Eight phrases from Das Kapitol stuck in his head,
And a trio of stills hidden in the reeds.

Ivan Ivanovitch was a pragmatist who kept his standards and expectations low.

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"If I should meet thee after long years,

How shall I greet thee? With silence, and tears."

--Lord Byron
ER
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Posts: 3728


The world becomes a dream....


« Reply #17 on: August 06, 2017, 09:20:31 PM »

(From) A Song of Myself

I think I could turn and live with animals,
 they are so placid and self-contain'd,
 I stand and look at them long and long.

 They do not sweat and whine about their condition,
 They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,
 They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,
 Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things,
 Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,
 Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.
---Walt Whitman
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"If I should meet thee after long years,

How shall I greet thee? With silence, and tears."

--Lord Byron
ER
Frightening Fanatic of Horrible Cinema
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Karma: 624
Posts: 3728


The world becomes a dream....


« Reply #18 on: October 08, 2017, 04:48:06 PM »


Digging 

Between my finger and my thumb   
The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.

Under my window, a clean rasping sound   
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:   
My father, digging. I look down

Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds   
Bends low, comes up twenty years away   
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills   
Where he was digging.

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft   
Against the inside knee was levered firmly.
He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep
To scatter new potatoes that we picked,
Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

By God, the old man could handle a spade.   
Just like his old man.
My grandfather cut more turf in a day
Than any other man on Tonerís bog.

Once I carried him milk in a bottle
Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up
To drink it, then fell to right away
Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods
Over his shoulder, going down and down
For the good turf. Digging.

The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap
Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
Through living roots awaken in my head.
But Iíve no spade to follow men like them.

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
Iíll dig with it.

---Seamus Heaney 
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"If I should meet thee after long years,

How shall I greet thee? With silence, and tears."

--Lord Byron
indianasmith
Archeologist, Theologian, Elder Scrolls Addict, and a
B-Movie Kraken
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Posts: 10824


A good bad movie is like popcorn for the soul!


« Reply #19 on: October 09, 2017, 12:18:43 AM »

I composed this in my head on the way to town today, while in a very giddy frame of mind:

If I were a lungfish, and shrimp were my favorite dish,
I'd eat a clam.
For some variety, and to show piety
To Neptune of the Sea
Whose fish I am.

It fits perfectly to the tune of the old church hymn: "My Faith Looks Up to Thee."
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"Carpe diem!" - Seize the day!  "Carpe per diem!" - Seize the daily living allowance! "Carpe carp!" - Seize the fish!
"Carpe Ngo Diem!" - Seize the South Vietnamese Dictator!
ER
Frightening Fanatic of Horrible Cinema
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Karma: 624
Posts: 3728


The world becomes a dream....


« Reply #20 on: October 09, 2017, 12:13:45 PM »

I like it, Indy!
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"If I should meet thee after long years,

How shall I greet thee? With silence, and tears."

--Lord Byron
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