posted on June 7, 2005 07:14:39 PM new
Neglus stated in another thread that she had never seen anyone post a poem here. Well, she won't be able to say that any more.
Feel free to add more poems to the thread.
We Wear the Mask
We wear the mask that grins and lies,
It hides our cheeks and shades our eyes,—
This debt we pay to human guile;
With torn and bleeding hearts we smile;
And mouth with myriad subtleties.
Why should the world be overwise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
We smile, but, O great Christ, our cries
To Thee from tortured souls arise.
We sing, but oh the clay is vile
Beneath our feet, and long the mile;
But let the world dream otherwise,
We wear the mask!
posted on June 7, 2005 07:23:05 PM new
Alright....my contribution is this:
Success is to be measured not so much by the positions that one has reached in life,
as by the obstacles which he has overcome while trying to succeed.
Booker T. Washington
[and I dedicate the above to both profe and roadsmith]
posted on June 7, 2005 08:05:24 PM new
Neglus, I think one of the very first things I posted here was a poem? I cant remember what it was, or what was on my mind at the time, so I hope this is not a repeat but here goes one I always liked:
Let me go:
Miss me a little,
but not too long..
and not with your head bowed low,
Remember the love,
that once was shared,
miss me...
but let me go...
posted on June 7, 2005 08:09:51 PM new
(From Rattle Issue #12)
Sam Pierstorff
A LETTER TO MY NEIGHBORS
WHO ARE MISSING A FISH
I saw your fish last night. I sat next to him at the bar
and told him he was wanted back home, but he wouldn’t listen.
He just sat upright on his caudal fin,
and continued slugging shots.
He smelled as you might expect he would
and his beard has grown past his gills.
The bartender complained that his oversized lips
streak the glasses, and he confirmed the rumor—
they do drink a lot.
I tried to convince him to go home,
that he was out of water in the real world,
but he just sneered and lit a cigarette.
I suspect he won’t be coming back soon.
He seems to like it on the outside.
He has become quite the pool shark,
and his unfamiliar charm baits the ladies pretty well.
So at least take comfort in knowing he is alive,
and do yourselves a favor—
forget about him.
There are plenty more in the sea.
(from Rattle Issue #15, Melissa was in her early teens)
Melissa Lamberton
ROCKS COULD SING
What if
each rock, each stone, each secret gem
had a voice
to speak with
and sounds of wind, rain, water, sky
would form themselves into earth accented words
and the stones by the side of the road
could be heard singing
in a deep mineral rich language.
What if
inside those solid rock bodies
thoughts echoed
and feelings
and mysteries
and yearnings for knowledge
and the compact forms of the earth
could speak out
and let go of earth secrets.
What if
somewhere among the layers of sediment
molecules of stone
substance of planets
a tiny heart pulsated
without movement
without sound
without channels of blood to power it.
What if the rocks could sing.
posted on June 7, 2005 09:34:35 PM new
She came from Greece,
she had a thirst for knowledge.
She studied sculpture at Saint Martin's College.
That's where I caught her eye.
She told me that her Dad was loaded.
I said, in that case I'll have a rum and coca-cola.
She said fine, and in thirty seconds time she said,
I want to live like common people.
I want to do whatever common people do.
I want to sleep with common people.
I want to sleep with common people, like you.
Well, what else could I do?
I said, I'll see what I can do.
I took her to a supermarket.
I don't know why, but I had to
start it somewhere, so it started there.
I said, pretend you've got no money.
She just laughed, and said
oh you're so funny. I said, yeah?
Well, I can't see anyone else smiling in here.
Are you sure you want to live like common people?
You want to see whatever common people see?
You want to sleep with common people?
You want to sleep with common people, like me?
But, she didn't understand,
[Jackson]
She just smiled and held my hand.
Rent a flat above a shop.
Cut your hair and get a job.
Smoke some fags and play some pool.
Pretend you never went to school.
But still, you'll never get it right.
When you're lying in bed at night
watching roaches climb the wall,
if you called your Dad he could stop it all.
Yeah.
[Shatner]
You'll never live like common people
You'll never do whatever common people do.
You'll never fail like common people.
You'll never watch your life slide out of view,
and dance and drink and screw
[Jackson and Shatner]
because there's nothing else to do.
[Shatner and Chorus]
Sing along with the common people.
Sing along, and it might just get you thru.'
[Chorus]
Laugh along with the common people.
[Shatner and Chorus]
Laugh along, even though they're laughing at you
[Shatner]
and the stupid things that you do
'cause you think that poor is cool.
[Jackson]
Like a dog lying in a corner,
they'll bite you and never warn you.
Look out.
[Shatner]
They'll tear your insides out
'cause everybody hates a tourist.
[Jackson]
'Cause Everybody hates a tourist,
especially one who thinks
it's all such a laugh.
[Shatner]
Yeah, and the chip stains' grease
will come out in the bath.
[Shatner and Jackson]
You will never understand
how it feels to live your life
with no meaning or control
and with nowhere left to go.
You're amazed that they exist
and they burn so bright,
while you can only wonder why.
Rent a flat above a shop.
Cut your hair and get a job.
Smoke some fags and play some pool.
Pretend you never went to school.
But still, you'll never get it right.
'Cause When you're lying in bed at night
[Shatner]
watching roaches climb the wall,
if you called your Dad he could stop it all.
Yeah.
You'll never live like common people
[Shatner and Jackson]
You'll never do what common people do.
You'll never fail like common people.
You'll never watch your life slide out of view
and dance and drink and screw
because there's nothing else to do.
[Chorus]
I want to sing with common people, like you.
I want to sing with common people, like you.
I want to sing with common people, like you.
This is a song written and sung by William Shatner. It's 3 hours long. I'm not sure who the Jackson person is singing along with him. Maybe Reggie or Tito.
posted on June 8, 2005 02:58:54 AM new
ok, kraft, the jig is up -- what is this fascination with William Shatner you've got going on?? If ever I thought I was weird or slightly bizarre in my tastes you're out there by miles over me! - Shatner & Dog, right? Anybody else we should know about, or you want to turn us on to? lol??!!
posted on June 8, 2005 06:29:49 AM new
Thanks Cherished and all!! I'll try to come back with a contribution later - I have to ship today (BOO HOO) - I like to read the roundtable when I am scanninng and captive at the 'puter (It beats Free Cell LOL)
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posted on June 8, 2005 10:08:44 AM new
Double, I'm fixated. I think Shatner is the funniest man on the planet. Have you EVER heard him sing? LoL! The song above is from the 60's, and there's also a dual album out with him and Nemoy, where he talks and Nemoy plays the lyre or something. If any of you are ever in a deep depression, listen to it or read the lyrics. Also, his acting in the original Star Trek series is exactly like his singing - beyond standing ovation and tears.
posted on June 9, 2005 01:14:07 AM new
Ok - I'm back with a poem and note the hour Pulling a shipping all-nighter..SIGHHHHHHH
I have my favorite poem:
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
-- Dylan Thomas
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posted on June 10, 2005 06:16:07 PM new
A conversation between the Queen of England and the Queen of Spain during an afternoon respite at Buckingham Palace.
"T?"
"C."
__________
The Islamofascist fig-puckers are fighting to spread their culture and religion, and to destroy ours
posted on June 10, 2005 07:25:28 PM new
Robert Service
A little child was sitting Up on her mother's knee
And down down her cheeks the bitter tears did flow.
And as I sadly listened I heard this tender plea,
'Twas uttered in a voice so soft and low.
"Not guilty" said the Jury And the Judge said "Set her free,
But remember it must not occur again.
And next time you must listen to you little daughter's plea,"
Then all the Court did join in this refrain.
Chorus:
"Please Mother don't stab Father with the BREAD-KNIFE,
Remember 'twas a gift when you were wed.
But if you must stab Father with the BREAD-KNIFE,
Please Mother use another for the BREAD."
