poetry

[prdctvsm]

Beautiful Yuroke Red River Gum by Lisa Bellear

Sometimes the red river gums rustled
in the beginning of colonization when
Wurundjeri
Bunnerong
Wathauring
and other Kulin nations
sang and danced
and
laughed
aloud

Not too long and there are
fewer red river gums, the
Yarra Yarra tribe’s blood becomes
the river’s rich red clay

There are maybe two red river gums
a scarred tree which overlooks the
Melbourne Cricket Ground the
survivors of genocide watch
and camp out, live, breathe in various
parks ’round Fitzroy and down
town
cosmopolitan
St Kilda

And some of us mob have graduated
from Koori Kollij, Preston TAFE,
the Melbin Yewni

Red river gums are replaced
by plane trees from England
and still
the survivors
watch. 

[prdctvsm]

Ode on a Grecian Urn by John Keats

Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,

       Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,

Sylvan historian, who canst thus express

       A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:

What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape

       Of deities or mortals, or of both,

               In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?

       What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?

What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?

               What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

 

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard

       Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;

Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,

       Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:

Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave

       Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;

               Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,

Though winning near the goal yet, do not grieve;

       She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,

               For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair!

 

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed

         Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;

And, happy melodist, unwearied,

         For ever piping songs for ever new;

More happy love! more happy, happy love!

         For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,

                For ever panting, and for ever young;

All breathing human passion far above,

         That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,

                A burning forehead, and a parching tongue.

 

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?

         To what green altar, O mysterious priest,

Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,

         And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?

What little town by river or sea shore,

         Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,

                Is emptied of this folk, this pious morn?

And, little town, thy streets for evermore

         Will silent be; and not a soul to tell

                Why thou art desolate, can e'er return.

 

O Attic shape! Fair attitude! with brede

         Of marble men and maidens overwrought,

With forest branches and the trodden weed;

         Thou, silent form, dost tease us out of thought

As doth eternity: Cold Pastoral!

         When old age shall this generation waste,

                Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe

Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st,

         "Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all

                Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know."

[prdctvsm]

Above us in the beautiful summer sky 
There was a cloud I could see for a long time 
It was very white and very far up 
And as I looked up, it was gone 

(Bertolt Brecht)

[YEK]

“WARNING”

Inside everybody’s nose
There lives a sharp-toothed snail.
So if you stick your finger in,
He may bite off your nail.
Stick it farther up inside,
And he may bite your ring off.
Stick it all the way, and he
May bite the whole darn thing off.

 

-shel silverstein

[exitonly]

i once heard of a woman who’s into autechre

so i searched far and wide until i met her

i took her to dine

but was disappointed to find

she thought they were oneohtrix point never

 

[dingformung]

 

 

 

Mil hombres, mil cabezas, mil países, mil costumbres.

Mil años, mil razones, mil preguntas.

Mil amores, mil lágrimas, mil deseos

mil milagros.

Mil noches, mil días, mil horas

mil años.

Mil peleas, mil victorias, mil derrotas,

mil guerras.

Mil animales, mil plantas, mil idiomas,

mil colores.

Mil maravillas, mil valles, mil montañas,

mil lagos.

Mil mundos, mil pueblos, mil países

mil historias.

Mil acertijos, mil preguntas, mil secretos

mil respuestas.

Mil mentiras, mil palabras, mil palabras

mil verdades.

Mil oraciones, mil pensamientos, mil lagrimas

mil paredes.

Mil mundos, mil valles, mil montañas,

mil lagos.

Mil sueños


A thousand men, a thousand heads, a thousand countries, a thousand customs. A thousand years, a thousand reasons, a thousand questions. A thousand love affairs, a thousand tears, a thousand wishes a thousand miracles. A thousand nights, a thousand days, a thousand hours a thousand years. A thousand fights, a thousand victories, a thousand defeats, a thousand wars. A thousand animals, a thousand plants, a thousand languages, a thousand colors. A thousand wonders, a thousand valleys, a thousand mountains, a thousand lakes. A thousand worlds, a thousand peoples, a thousand countries a thousand stories. A thousand riddles, a thousand questions, a thousand secrets a thousand answers. A thousand lies, a thousand words, a thousand words a thousand truths. A thousand prayers, a thousand thoughts, a thousand tears a thousand walls. A thousand worlds, a thousand valleys, a thousand mountains, a thousand lakes. A thousand dreams

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tausend Mann, tausend Köpfe, tausend Länder, tausend Sitten.

 

Tausend Jahre, tausend Gründe, tausend Fragen.

 

Tausend Liebschaften, tausend Tränen, tausend Wünsche,

 

tausend Wunder. 

 

Tausend Nächte, tausend Tage, tausend Stunden,

 

tausend Jahre. 

 

Tausend Kämpfe, tausend Siege, tausend Niederlagen,

 

tausend Kriege.

 

Tausend Tiere, tausend Pflanzen, tausend Sprachen,

 

tausend Farben.

 

Tausend Wunder, tausend Täler, tausend Berge,

 

tausend Seen.

 

Tausend Welten, tausend Völker, tausend Länder,

 

tausend Geschichten.

 

Tausend Rätsel, tausend Fragen, tausend Geheimnisse,

 

tausend Antworten.

 

Tausend Lügen, tausend Worte, tausend Worte,

 

tausend Wahrheiten.

 

Tausend Gebete, tausend Gedanken, tausend Tränen,

 

tausend Wände.

 

Tausend Welten, tausend Täler, tausend Berge,

 

tausend Seen.

 

Tausend Träume

 

 

 

 

[xox]

bike but buk butt (:)

. ball be take one

& goes get go

teo takes took wok ;

/ book bat but HEY!

_oner ten video saw (( 1

 

 

 

 

 

[iococoi]

schtzngrmm

schtzngrmm
schtzngrmm
t-t-t-t
t-t-t-t
grrrmmmmm
t-t-t-t
s---------c---------h
tzngrmm
tzngrmm
tzngrmm
grrrmmmmm
schtzn
schtzn
t-t-t-t
t-t-t-t
schtzngrmm
schtzngrmm
tssssssssssssss
grrt
grrrrrt
grrrrrrrrrt
scht
scht
t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t
scht
tzngrmm
tzngrmm
t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t
scht
scht
scht
scht
scht
grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
t-tt

https://www.ubu.com/media/sound/jandl_ernst/laut_luise/Jandl-Ernst_Laut-Luise_09_schtzngrmm.mp3

Edited May 28, 2021 by iococoi

[Limo]

There was a young girl of Baroda
Who built an erotic pagoda;
The walls of its halls
Were festooned with the balls
And the tools of the fools that bestrode her.
 

(Swinburne)

[Scaramouche]

I once went to bed with a nun
by pointing a pistol at one;
said she, with a quaver,
that’s a good big persuader,
but what is the point of the gun?

(Gass/The Tunnel)

[xox]

1 minute ago, Shimon_Shimon said:

but what is the point of the gun?

It rhymes with ‘nun’?

[dingformung]

LISTE ZUR VEREINFACHTEN ERLEDIGUNG DES EINKAUFS ZUR DECKUNG DES BEDARFS AN ZUM KONSUM BESTIMMTEN NAHRUNGS- UND GENUSSMITTELN:

1. KARTOFFELN
2. SAFT
3. WEITERE SÜSSGETRÄNKE, WIE ZUM BEISPIEL MALZBIER
4. MANDELMILCH
5. EIER
6. TOMATEN
7. ZWIEBELN
9. NUDELN
10. BROT
11. SCHOKOLADE
12. LAUCH

(DIESE LISTE ERSCHEINT BISLANG UNVÖLLSTÄNDIG)

[toaoaoad]

They that wash on Monday
    Have all the week to dry;
They that wash on Tuesday
    Are not so much awry;
They that wash on Wednesday
    Are not so much to blame;
They that wash on Thursday,
    Wash for shame;
They that wash on Friday,
    Wash for need;
And they that wash on Saturday,
    Are sluts indeed.    (Anon)

[prdctvsm]

The Road Not Taken

 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

 

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

 

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

 

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

 

Robert Frost

[dingformung]

if i was a woman i would be a hoe

i havent had sex in too long of a while

have had it many times

with numerous women

but now i forgot how to ask for it

i'm scared of my penis

it's a strange animal

i'm masturbating as i'm typing these words (that's why there are no capital letters)

i'm listening to a georgian language lesson

and hearing choirs

my penis is semi erect, i never ejaculate

unless i do

this is good

i feel safe

but i will feel unsafe

strange day

merry xmas

[dingformung]

eggs are brown

rice is white

spinach is green 

i want sex lots lots lots lots of sex 

[brian trageskin]

 

[logakght]

27 minutes ago, dingformung said:

eggs are brown

rice is white

spinach is green 

i want sex lots lots lots lots of sex 

 

[brian trageskin]

 

[dingformung]

give up giving up
start to fail
get tired
dreams of failure
wake up
give up
will
tired

give up
open me up

I am happy

open me up

get scared

give up
open me up

get weak

give up

will

tired

fall asleep

wake up exhausted

wake up exhausted

wake up exhausted

see

feel

hear

feel

quality

curiosity

see

feel

hear

Hopelessness

see

feel

hear

hope

see

feel

hear

force

see

feel

hear

courage

see

feel

hear

(Costs)

see

feel

hear

Despair

see

feel

hear

courage

see

feel

hear

Despair

see

feel

hear

force

see

feel

hear

courage

see

feel

hear

(Costs)

see

feel

hear

curiosity

see

 

 

 

 

[prdctvsm]

Ode by Arthur O'Shaughnessy

 

We are the music makers,

    And we are the dreamers of dreams,

Wandering by lone sea-breakers,

    And sitting by desolate streams; —

World-losers and world-forsakers,

    On whom the pale moon gleams:

Yet we are the movers and shakers

    Of the world for ever, it seems.

 

With wonderful deathless ditties

We build up the world's great cities,

    And out of a fabulous story

    We fashion an empire's glory:

One man with a dream, at pleasure,

    Shall go forth and conquer a crown;

And three with a new song's measure

    Can trample a kingdom down.

 

We, in the ages lying,

    In the buried past of the earth,

Built Nineveh with our sighing,

    And Babel itself in our mirth;

And o'erthrew them with prophesying

    To the old of the new world's worth;

For each age is a dream that is dying,

    Or one that is coming to birth.

 

A breath of our inspiration

Is the life of each generation;

    A wondrous thing of our dreaming

    Unearthly, impossible seeming —

The soldier, the king, and the peasant

    Are working together in one,

Till our dream shall become their present,

    And their work in the world be done.

 

They had no vision amazing

Of the goodly house they are raising;

    They had no divine foreshowing

    Of the land to which they are going:

But on one man's soul it hath broken,

    A light that doth not depart;

And his look, or a word he hath spoken,

    Wrought flame in another man's heart.

 

And therefore to-day is thrilling

With a past day's late fulfilling;

    And the multitudes are enlisted

    In the faith that their fathers resisted,

And, scorning the dream of to-morrow,

    Are bringing to pass, as they may,

In the world, for its joy or its sorrow,

    The dream that was scorned yesterday.

 

But we, with our dreaming and singing,

    Ceaseless and sorrowless we!

The glory about us clinging

    Of the glorious futures we see,

Our souls with high music ringing:

    O men! it must ever be

That we dwell, in our dreaming and singing,

    A little apart from ye.

 

For we are afar with the dawning

    And the suns that are not yet high,

And out of the infinite morning

    Intrepid you hear us cry —

How, spite of your human scorning,

    Once more God's future draws nigh,

And already goes forth the warning

    That ye of the past must die.

 

Great hail! we cry to the comers

    From the dazzling unknown shore;

Bring us hither your sun and your summers;

    And renew our world as of yore;

You shall teach us your song's new numbers,

    And things that we dreamed not before:

Yea, in spite of a dreamer who slumbers,

    And a singer who sings no more.

[dingformung]

existence is organic and fleshy

more than a human can know

die

[prdctvsm]

I KNOW THE WAY YOU CAN GET

I know the way you can get when you have not had a drink of Love:
Your face hardens, your sweet muscles cramp.
Children become concerned about a strange look that appears in your eyes
Which even begins to worry your own mirror and nose.
Squirrels and birds sense your sadness and call an important conference in a tall tree.
They decide which secret code to chant to help your mind and soul.
Even angels fear that brand of madness that arrays itself against the world
And throws sharp stones and spears into the innocent and into one’s self.
O I know the way you can get if you have not been drinking Love:
You might rip apart every sentence your friends and teachers say, looking for hidden clauses.
You might weigh every word on a scale like a dead fish.
You might pull out a ruler to measure from every angle in your darkness
The beautiful dimensions of a heart you once trusted.
I know the way you can get if you have not had a drink from Love’s hands.
That is why all the Great Ones speak of the vital need to keep remembering God,
So you will come to know and see Him as being so playful and wanting, just wanting to help.
That is why Hafiz says: bring your cup near me, for all I care about is quenching
your thirst for freedom!
All a sane man can ever care about is giving Love!

— Hafiz

 

[baph]

Whoh oh, oh 
This disport is so augmatic
(AUGMATIC)
It is like a kind of magic
(MAGIC)
And baby when you dance
I can see a bowl of crisps in your eyes
(EYES)

[toaoaoad]

On 5/29/2021 at 1:16 PM, toaoaoad said:

They that wash on Monday
    Have all the week to dry;
They that wash on Tuesday
    Are not so much awry;
They that wash on Wednesday
    Are not so much to blame;
They that wash on Thursday,
    Wash for shame;
They that wash on Friday,
    Wash for need;
And they that wash on Saturday,
    Are sluts indeed.    (Anon)

K I remember it was bugging me a little when I posted this because I knew it seemed a bit off from the version I had heard originally, but couldn't find it anywhere, and all the versions of it online were more or less like this one. But I just found the original one I'd seen in a book. For what it's worth (you decide which is better) -- 

 

Wash Day

They that wash on Monday
Have all the week to dry;
They that wash on Tuesday
They have pretty nigh;
They that wash on Wednesday
Have half the week past;
They that wash on Thursday
Are very near the last;
They that wash on Friday
Wash for need;
They that wash on Saturday
Are sluts indeed.

(TRADITIONAL)

Edited October 11, 2021 by toaoaoad