dont_do_it_doug. Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 I wont post it as im sure youve all heard it a thousand times Post it up man, that's the beauty of poetry, it doesn't matter how many times you hear it it's still capable of moving. Like music. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Risso Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 The rain it raineth every day Upon the just and unjust fella, But more upon the just because The unjust hath the just's umbrella. 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Jon Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 The rain it raineth every day Sounds like a Manx special that Mr Rissworth! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tomzep Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 I wont post it as im sure youve all heard it a thousand times Post it up man, that's the beauty of poetry, it doesn't matter how many times you hear it it's still capable of moving. Like music. Here it is then. My favourite poem of all time If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or, being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise; If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with triumph and disaster And treat those two imposters just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to broken, And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools; If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on"; If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch; If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run - Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son! 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Nigel Posted September 28, 2011 VT Supporter Share Posted September 28, 2011 ...and we'll be playing 4,4 f*ckin 2! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mjmooney Posted September 28, 2011 VT Supporter Share Posted September 28, 2011 I recommend some good ol' john donne for the ladies. you could melt the ice caps between their legs after a reading of his works. THE KISS. A DIALOGUE. by Robert Herrick I. Among thy fancies tell me this, What is the thing we call a kiss ? 2. I shall resolve ye what it is. It is a creature born and bred Between the lips (all cherry-red), By love and warm desires fed. Chor. And makes more soft the bridal bed. 2. It is an active flame that flies, First, to the babies of the eyes ; And charms them there with lullabies. Chor. And stills the bride, too, when she cries. 2. Then to the chin, the cheek, the ear, It frisks and flies, now here, now there, 'Tis now far off, and then 'tis near. Chor. And here and there and everywhere. I. Has it a speaking virtue ? 2. Yes. I. How speaks it, say ? 2. Do you but this ; Part your joined lips, then speaks your kiss Chor. And this love's sweetest language is. I. Has it a body ? 2. Aye, and wings With thousand rare encolourings ; And, as it flies, it gently sings, Chor. Love honey yields, but never stings. To his Coy Mistress by Andrew Marvell Had we but world enough, and time, This coyness, lady, were no crime. We would sit down and think which way To walk, and pass our long love's day; Thou by the Indian Ganges' side Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the Flood; And you should, if you please, refuse Till the conversion of the Jews. My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires, and more slow. An hundred years should go to praise Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze; Two hundred to adore each breast, But thirty thousand to the rest; An age at least to every part, And the last age should show your heart. For, lady, you deserve this state, Nor would I love at lower rate. But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near; And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity. Thy beauty shall no more be found, Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound My echoing song; then worms shall try That long preserv'd virginity, And your quaint honour turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust. The grave's a fine and private place, But none I think do there embrace. Now therefore, while the youthful hue Sits on thy skin like morning dew, And while thy willing soul transpires At every pore with instant fires, Now let us sport us while we may; And now, like am'rous birds of prey, Rather at once our time devour, Than languish in his slow-chapp'd power. Let us roll all our strength, and all Our sweetness, up into one ball; And tear our pleasures with rough strife Thorough the iron gates of life. Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run. may i feel said he by e e cummings may i feel said he (i'll squeal said she just once said he) it's fun said she (may i touch said he how much said she a lot said he) why not said she (let's go said he not too far said she what's too far said he where you are said she) may i stay said he which way said she like this said he if you kiss said she may i move said he is it love said she) if you're willing said he (but you're killing said she but it's life said he but your wife said she now said he) ow said she (tiptop said he don't stop said she oh no said he) go slow said she (cccome?said he ummm said she) you're divine!said he (you are Mine said she) Should do the trick. {cough} Allegedly. {cough} Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Risso Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 The rain it raineth every day Sounds like a Manx special that Mr Rissworth! Or even Manchester! Here's one for you Jon. I'll be in Manchester in three weeks Jon, so give a little cheer Shall we meet in the city centre, and have ourselves a beer? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
rjw63 Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 Time to have a shower, Use a nice big sponge; Got to clean my bits up, Or I'll get no clunge. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
GarethRDR Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 Time to have a shower, Use a nice big sponge; Got to clean my bits up, Or I'll get no clunge. And if I'm rebuffed 'cause her clunge is all blooden I'll say "no probs luv; I'll go up the wrong 'un". Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Risso Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 Time to have a shower, Use a nice big sponge; Got to clean my bits up, Or I'll get no clunge. And if I'm rebuffed 'cause her clunge is all blooden I'll say "no probs luv; I'll go up the wrong 'un". And when I'm spent, I'll up and leave There's plenty more clunge for Scuba Steve Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dAVe80 Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 On VT's Off Topic, where the cool kids do dwell Chrisp started a to topic, and it went down real well With Poems and Sonnets and writings that rhyme The members collated the best of all time But some didn't like it, said Poets? No way! This flowery language, is totally gay To them I say stay clear, cus it only just begun You're gonna hate this, like Rob loves the wrong 'un Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Jon Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 The rain it raineth every day Sounds like a Manx special that Mr Rissworth! Or even Manchester! Here's one for you Jon. I'll be in Manchester in three weeks Jon, so give a little cheer Shall we meet in the city centre, and have ourselves a beer? That sounds a good idea, as long as I'm here, as I'm off to Amsterdam for 2 days. Let's invite Peter Bland, and meet up as planned, but on the condition he pays. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
GarethRDR Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 No good at haikus always forget the syllable rules Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
theunderstudy Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 Now the world has gone to bed Darkness won't engulf my head I can see by infra-red How I hate the night Now I lay me down to sleep Try to count electric sheep Sweet dream wishes you can keep How I hate the night Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
CarewsEyebrowDesigner Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 To his Coy Mistress by Andrew Marvell Had we but world enough, and time, This coyness, lady, were no crime. We would sit down and think which way To walk, and pass our long love's day; Thou by the Indian Ganges' side Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide Of Humber would complain. I would Love you ten years before the Flood; And you should, if you please, refuse Till the conversion of the Jews. My vegetable love should grow Vaster than empires, and more slow. An hundred years should go to praise Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze; Two hundred to adore each breast, But thirty thousand to the rest; An age at least to every part, And the last age should show your heart. For, lady, you deserve this state, Nor would I love at lower rate. But at my back I always hear Time's winged chariot hurrying near; And yonder all before us lie Deserts of vast eternity. Thy beauty shall no more be found, Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound My echoing song; then worms shall try That long preserv'd virginity, And your quaint honour turn to dust, And into ashes all my lust. The grave's a fine and private place, But none I think do there embrace. Now therefore, while the youthful hue Sits on thy skin like morning dew, And while thy willing soul transpires At every pore with instant fires, Now let us sport us while we may; And now, like am'rous birds of prey, Rather at once our time devour, Than languish in his slow-chapp'd power. Let us roll all our strength, and all Our sweetness, up into one ball; And tear our pleasures with rough strife Thorough the iron gates of life. Thus, though we cannot make our sun Stand still, yet we will make him run. Ah, I have a friend that attempted this once, reciting it from heart. He got about half a stanza before the lady he attempted to woo said 'stop talking shite and buy me a drink'. Modern romance, eh? IF is a great one, however endless Wimbledon coverage has tainted it somewhat for me, although seeing Nadal and Federer read it before that final was bloody brilliant. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
theunderstudy Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 Oh and I'm not posting any poems of mine in here. They will stay forever locked in the suitcase in my wardrobe as they have been these last 4 years. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
GarethRDR Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 Oh and I'm not posting any poems of mine in here. They will stay forever locked in the suitcase in my wardrobe as they have been these last 4 years. Or one could just read the sleeve notes from "Sunshine on Leith". Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
theunderstudy Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 Oh and I'm not posting any poems of mine in here. They will stay forever locked in the suitcase in my wardrobe as they have been these last 4 years. Or one could just read the sleeve notes from "Sunshine on Leith". That's anti-poetry! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
CarewsEyebrowDesigner Posted September 28, 2011 Share Posted September 28, 2011 When it comes to personal favourites, I don't think you can go much wrong with Yeats. An Irish Airman Foresees His Death I know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; Those that I fight I do not hate, Those that I guard I do not love; My country is Kiltartan Cross, My countrymen Kiltartan's poor, No likely end could bring them loss Or leave them happier than before. Nor law, nor duty bade me fight, Nor public men, nor cheering crowds, A lonely impulse of delight Drove to this tumult in the clouds; I balanced all, brought all to mind, The years to come seemed waste of breath, A waste of breath the years behind In balance with this life, this death. 1 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mjmooney Posted September 28, 2011 VT Supporter Share Posted September 28, 2011 When it comes to personal favourites, I don't think you can go much wrong with Yeats. An Irish Airman Foresees His Death I know that I shall meet my fate Somewhere among the clouds above; (etc.) Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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