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DIR Return to: Camelot Poetry Palace
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#Post#: 18690--------------------------------------------------
Re: General Poetry Place
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: February 22, 2015, 11:47 am
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February
By James Schuyler
A chimney, breathing a little smoke.
The sun, I can't see
making a bit of pink
I can't quite see in the blue.
The pink of five tulips
at five p.m. on the day before March first.
The green of the tulip stems and leaves
like something I can't remember,
finding a jack-in-the-pulpit
a long time ago and far away.
Why it was December then
and the sun was on the sea
by the temples we'd gone to see.
One green wave moved in the violet sea
like the UN Building on big evenings,
green and wet
while the sky turns violet.
A few almond trees
had a few flowers, like a few snowflakes
out of the blue looking pink in the light.
A gray hush
in which the boxy trucks roll up Second Avenue
into the sky. They're just
going over the hill.
The green leaves of the tulips on my desk
like grass light on flesh,
and a green-copper steeple
and streaks of cloud beginning to glow.
I can't get over
how it all works in together
like a woman who just came to her window
and stands there filling it
jogging her baby in her arms.
She's so far off. Is it the light
that makes the baby pink?
I can see the little fists
and the rocking-horse motion of her breasts.
It's getting grayer and gold and chilly.
Two dog-size lions face each other
at the corners of a roof.
It's the yellow dust inside the tulips.
It's the shape of a tulip.
It's the water in the drinking glass the tulips are in.
It's a day like any other.
#Post#: 18691--------------------------------------------------
Re: General Poetry Place
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: February 22, 2015, 11:48 am
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The Mermaids
By Marianne Boruch
The spell is a mouth’s
perilous-o as they dark circle the boats in
their most resplendent pliable armor.
The concept fish aligning with girl
or love with death
to bring down men at sea, temptation
confused into offering,
the mismatch of like plus unlike
really likes, straight to rock bottom.
No equation has ever been this badass.
It’s the men who will enter the spell
so far into exhaustion as weather, as waves,
the tide pulling toward if, letting go then
over the whale road in the company of
the dolphin, the only other animal, I’m told,
who can do it solely for pleasure. It.
You know what I mean. The lower half
aglitter, the top half brainy as beautiful
is sometimes, murderous lovelies, their plotting
and resolve and why not
get these guys good, the lechers.
To see at all in the whirling, to hear
what anyone might
in wind roar and faint whistle — 
don’t worry about girls shrewd
as whimsy, legend-tough
to the core. Don’t. But it’s
their spell too, isn’t it? Locked there.
Aligned with singing, dazzle
razor-blackened green. Not that they
miss what human is like or know any end
to waters half born to, from where
they look up.
Men in boats, so sick of the journey.
Men gone stupid with blue,
with vast, with gazing over and away
the whole time until same to same-old to
now they’re mean. After that, small.
Out there, the expanse. In here,
the expanse. The men look down. Aching
misalignment — gorgeous
lure that hides its hook steely sweet
to o my god, little fool’s breath
triumphant, all the way under and am I
not deserving?
#Post#: 18692--------------------------------------------------
Re: General Poetry Place
DIR By: Divine Metamorphoses
Date: February 22, 2015, 11:52 am
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General CD these are incredible works of Art thank you for
sharing
#Post#: 18694--------------------------------------------------
Re: General Poetry Place
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: February 22, 2015, 12:23 pm
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you are welcome lady Divine.
poetry enriches the mind as it also inspires.
I cant write poetry but I am fascinated by it.
#Post#: 18695--------------------------------------------------
Re: General Poetry Place
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: February 22, 2015, 12:24 pm
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A Change of Wind
By Katia Kapovich
On the eighth day he coined the word “alone”
and saw that it was as good as everything else.
A yellow school bus rattled down the lane,
a wind blew in a drainpipe, strong, mellifluous.
I brought two empty crates to the parking lot,
watched neighbors with briefcases and car keys.
At noon a mailman passed by where I sat
invisible, like a tree among trees.
Why, why, I asked. I wanted to know why,
but only scared a squirrel that dropped his acorn
when my voice broke silence unexpectedly—
a white noise in a wireless telephone.
My club soda went flat in the bottle. With a spit
of rain, a wind blew again from the lake.
I raised my index finger and touched it,
pleading, give me a break, give me a break.
#Post#: 18697--------------------------------------------------
Re: General Poetry Place
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: February 22, 2015, 12:27 pm
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Constancy
By Joseph Brodsky
Constancy is an evolution of one’s living quarters into
a thought: a continuation of a parallelogram or a rectangle
by means—as Clausewitz would have put it—
of the voice and, ultimately, the gray matter.
Ah, shrunken to the size of a brain-cell parlor
with a lampshade, an armoire in the “Slavic
Glory” fashion, four studded chairs, a sofa,
a bed, a bedside table with
little medicine bottles left there standing like
a kremlin or, better yet, manhattan.
To die, to abandon a family, to go away for good,
to change hemispheres, to let new ovals
be painted into the square—the more
volubly will the gray cell insist
on its actual measurements, demanding
daily sacrifice from the new locale,
from the furniture, from the silhouette in a yellow
dress; in the end—from your very self.
A spider revels in shading especially the fifth corner.
Evolution is not a species’
adjustment to a new environment but one’s memories’
triumph over reality, the ichthyosaurus pining
for the amoeba, the slack vertebrae of a train
thundering in the darkness, past
the mussel shells, tightly shut for the night, with their
spineless, soggy, pearl-shrouding contents.
#Post#: 18882--------------------------------------------------
Re: General Poetry Place
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: March 1, 2015, 8:23 pm
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[URL=
HTML http://s1322.photobucket.com/user/spartacus120/media/spartan%20images/this%20is%20sparta/sparatus-1/cool6/cool7/aggy-400_zpse7948e6b.jpg.html][IMG]http://i1322.photobucket.com/albums/u572/spartacus120/spartan%20images/this%20is%20sparta/sparatus-1/cool6/cool7/aggy-400_zpse7948e6b.jpg[/img][/URL]
#Post#: 18906--------------------------------------------------
YOUR FAVORITE LOVE POEMS
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: March 2, 2015, 5:53 pm
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Welcome to Your Favorite Love Poems
Please post away and have fun.
Please feel free to share your own favorite loves poems with
your Camelot family and also the world.
#Post#: 18907--------------------------------------------------
Re: Top 10 Favorite Love Poems
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: March 2, 2015, 5:55 pm
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Top 10 Favorite Love Poems
1.Sonnet 116 by William Shakespeare
A Shakrespearean sonnet cherished for over 400 years for it's
hopefulness and promis of eternal and unchanging love.
2.Love One Another by Kahlil Gibran
This poem, also titled "On Marriage" explains the great bond
between two people and the importance to share, but also the
importance to have things to yourself.
3.Meeting at Night by Robert Browning
Love is sometimes something we must go through hurdles to have,
but in the end, we are happy and joyful. This poem is listed as
a "must read aloud" to gain full appreciation of the writing.
4.My River by Emily Dickinson
Love comes and asks to take her away. She hesitates slightly
before agreeing and fleeing into the wonderful sea of love.
5.Love's Philosophy by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Shelley is masterful in describing love and his philosophy for
how it should be treated.
6.Maud by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
A poem about an unnamed lover where the narrator encounters
life, death, and the question of afterlife.
7.Annabelle Lee by Edgar Allan Poe
A love so strong that even the angels are jealous. This is Poe's
last complete poem and arguably one of his best poetry writings.
8.Bright Star, Would I Were Steadfast as Thou Art by John Keats
The poet wishes upon the sky to have his love as constant as the
bright stars above.
9.To His Coy Mistress by Andrew Marvell
The author tries to convince a woman to respond to his love and
make the most of their passion with the short time they have to
live.
10.Troilus and Criseyde (Download .zip) by Geoffrey Chaucer
The tragic retelling of the Siege of Troy. This is considered to
be Chaucer's finest work.
These poems are recognized around the world as some of the best
love poems ever written. Whether you agree or not is another
matter. However, they should definitely be put into the
conversation and not forgotten about in libraries around the
world.
#Post#: 18911--------------------------------------------------
Re: Top 10 Favorite Love Poems
DIR By: Clay Death
Date: March 2, 2015, 6:30 pm
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I Love Thee
by Eliza Acton, 1799-1859.
I love thee, as I love the calm
Of sweet, star-lighted hours!
I love thee, as I love the balm
Of early jes'mine flow'rs.
I love thee, as I love the last
Rich smile of fading day,
Which lingereth, like the look we cast,
On rapture pass'd away.
I love thee as I love the tone
Of some soft-breathing flute
Whose soul is wak'd for me alone,
When all beside is mute.
I love thee as I love the first
Young violet of the spring;
Or the pale lily, April-nurs'd,
To scented blossoming.
I love thee, as I love the full,
Clear gushings of the song,
Which lonely--sad--and beautiful--
At night-fall floats along,
Pour'd by the bul-bul forth to greet
The hours of rest and dew;
When melody and moonlight meet
To blend their charm, and hue.
I love thee, as the glad bird loves
The freedom of its wing,
On which delightedly it moves
In wildest wandering.
I love thee as I love the swell,
And hush, of some low strain,
Which bringeth, by its gentle spell,
The past to life again.
Such is the feeling which from thee
Nought earthly can allure:
'Tis ever link'd to all I see
Of gifted--high--and pure!
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