Brugernavn: Kodeord:
Ny bruger registrering
Moderator: TJ 
 Poetry

An outlet for players whose creativity extends beyond the board. Post your original works here!

The posting of song lyrics is not the purpose of this board and as such please refrain from doing so. Exceptions can be made to this rule if you are the copyrighted owner of the lyrics and the lyrics are not found offensive by the majority of the population.
This board is a place to post your original works of poetry and prose and also a place for discussion of poetry and related areas.

We have received word from Fencer that other's poetry can be posted to this board. These are the two conditions:
1) When someone posts a known copyrighted poem, he must add the author's name as well
2) If the author is not known, the poem can be posted without problems


Meddelelser per side:
Liste over diskussionsborde
Du har ikke rettigheder til at skrive meddelelser til dette bord, Mindste medlemsskabsniveau nødvendigt for at skrive til dette bord er BrainBonde.
Tilstand: Alle kan skrive
Søg i meddelelser:  

3. Marts 2014, 07:57:52
Papa Zoom 

3. Marts 2014, 07:43:26
Papa Zoom 
THE FAMOUS POETRY QUOTE:

“To err is human; to forgive, divine.”
Alexander Pope (1688-1744)
English poet
The popular saying created by line 525 of Pope’s poem An Essay on Criticism, Part II (1711)
In the original poem, as published in 1711, the line is given as “To err is humane; to forgive, divine.” This is not because Pope erred in his spelling or believed that making a mistake was a compassionate thing to do. At the time, humane was the common spelling used for the word human.

3. Marts 2014, 05:38:04
Papa Zoom 
This place is too quiet

13. Juli 2011, 17:56:40
Papa Zoom 
A cloud was on the mind of men, and wailing went the weather,
Yea, a sick cloud upon the soul when we were boys together.
Science announced nonentity and art admired decay;
The world was old and ended: but you and I were gay;
Round us in antic order their crippled vices came --
Lust that had lost its laughter, fear that had lost its shame.
Like the white lock of Whistler, that lit our aimless gloom,
Men showed their own white feather as proudly as a plume.
Life was a fly that faded, and death a drone that stung;
The world was very old indeed when you and I were young.
They twisted even decent sin to shapes not to be named:
Men were ashamed of honour; but we were not ashamed.
Weak if we were and foolish, not thus we failed, not thus;
When that black Baal blocked the heavens he had no hymns from us
Children we were -- our forts of sand were even as weak as eve,
High as they went we piled them up to break that bitter sea.
Fools as we were in motley, all jangling and absurd,
When all church bells were silent our cap and beds were heard.

Not all unhelped we held the fort, our tiny flags unfurled;
Some giants laboured in that cloud to lift it from the world.
I find again the book we found, I feel the hour that flings
Far out of fish-shaped Paumanok some cry of cleaner things;
And the Green Carnation withered, as in forest fires that pass,
Roared in the wind of all the world ten million leaves of grass;
Or sane and sweet and sudden as a bird sings in the rain --
Truth out of Tusitala spoke and pleasure out of pain.
Yea, cool and clear and sudden as a bird sings in the grey,
Dunedin to Samoa spoke, and darkness unto day.
But we were young; we lived to see God break their bitter charms.
God and the good Republic come riding back in arms:
We have seen the City of Mansoul, even as it rocked, relieved --
Blessed are they who did not see, but being blind, believed.

This is a tale of those old fears, even of those emptied hells,
And none but you shall understand the true thing that it tells --
Of what colossal gods of shame could cow men and yet crash,
Of what huge devils hid the stars, yet fell at a pistol flash.
The doubts that were so plain to chase, so dreadful to withstand --
Oh, who shall understand but you; yea, who shall understand?
The doubts that drove us through the night as we two talked amain,
And day had broken on the streets e'er it broke upon the brain.
Between us, by the peace of God, such truth can now be told;
Yea, there is strength in striking root and good in growing old.
We have found common things at last and marriage and a creed,
And I may safely write it now, and you may safely read.


-G. K. C.

Dato og klokkeslæt
Venner online
Favoritborde
Sammenslutninger
Dagens tip
Copyright © 2002 - 2024 Filip Rachunek, all rights reserved.
Tilbage til toppen