My favorite poem

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baz

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Apr 11, 2014
Posts
235
Goodbye All

When everyone had left me,
It made me want to die,
cause I can only take so much,
that makes me want to cry.
And with no friends to call my name,
The pain too much to bear.
I took the pill to end all ills,
Cause life's no longer fair.
To all those folks who used me,
and left when they were done.
I always sat here lonely,
wishing that I had someone.
But all that I befriended,
always left me all alone.
and made me into no one.
and loaded my gun,
and put it to my head,
pulled the trigger now I'm dead.
I wanted a friend so badly,
You all shook your heads sadly,
Took my love and ran away,
So I end this pain today.
Not one of you would call,
I'm not worth saving,...goodbye all.
This is how I feel,
and today this may be real.
 

baz

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Apr 11, 2014
Posts
235
“The Cry of a Lost Soul”

IN that black forest, where, when day is done,
With a snake’s stillness glides the Amazon
Darkly from sunset to the rising sun,

A cry, as of the pained heart of the wood,
The long, despairing moan of solitude 5
And darkness and the absence of all good,

Startles the traveller, with a sound so drear,
So full of hopeless agony and fear,
His heart stands still and listens like his ear.

The guide, as if he heard a dead-bell toll, 10
Starts, drops his oar against the gunwale’s thole,
Crosses himself, and whispers, “A lost soul!”

“No, Señor, not a bird. I know it well,—
It is the pained soul of some infidel
Or cursëd heretic that cries from hell. 15

“Poor fool! with hope still mocking his despair,
He wanders, shrieking on the midnight air
For human pity and for Christian prayer.

“Saints strike him dumb! Our Holy Mother hath
No prayer for him who, sinning unto death, 20
Burns always in the furnace of God’s wrath!”

Thus to the baptized pagan’s cruel lie,
Lending new horror to that mournful cry,
The voyager listens, making no reply.

Dim burns the boat-lamp: shadows deepen round, 25
From giant trees with snake-like creepers wound,
And the black water glides without a sound.

But in the traveller’s heart a secret sense
Of nature plastic to benign intents,
And an eternal good in Providence, 30

Lifts to the starry calm of heaven his eyes;
And lo! rebuking all earth’s ominous cries,
The Cross of pardon lights the tropic skies!

“Father of all!” he urges his strong plea,
“Thou lovest all: Thy erring child may be 35
Lost to himself, but never lost to Thee!

“All souls are Thine; the wings of morning bear
None from that Presence which is everywhere,
Nor hell itself can hide, for Thou art there.

“Through sins of sense, perversities of will, 40
Through doubt and pain, through guilt and shame and ill,
Thy pitying eye is on Thy creature still.

“Wilt thou not make, Eternal Source and Goal!
In Thy long years, life’s broken circle whole,
And change to praise the cry of a lost soul?”

1862. 45
 

Flower

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Aug 22, 2011
Posts
591
T
Goodbye All

When everyone had left me,
It made me want to die,
cause I can only take so much,
that makes me want to cry.
And with no friends to call my name,
The pain too much to bear.
I took the pill to end all ills,
Cause life's no longer fair.
To all those folks who used me,
and left when they were done.
I always sat here lonely,
wishing that I had someone.
But all that I befriended,
always left me all alone.
and made me into no one.
and loaded my gun,
and put it to my head,
pulled the trigger now I'm dead.
I wanted a friend so badly,
You all shook your heads sadly,
Took my love and ran away,
So I end this pain today.
Not one of you would call,
I'm not worth saving,...goodbye all.
This is how I feel,
and today this may be real.

Hello @baz. I found that poem very moving and so very sad. I'm sure many members on here have felt so incredibly low, that doesn't even begin to describe the feelings I know, that the only way out seems to be the content in the poem. There are many good people out there who would do anything to save a soul from this fate...unfortunately some don't realise it until it's too late or have already reached out, called/cried for help, but have been rejected. Take care. Flower xxx
 

Ravenousbird

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Jun 11, 2014
Posts
3,484
On Children
Kahlil Gibran

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.
 

Flower

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Joined
Aug 22, 2011
Posts
591
On Children
Kahlil Gibran

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.

Hello @ravenousbird. That poem is so very true and poignant. Thank you for sharing that. Take care. Flower xxx
P.S. Having an offspring of my own the words mean such a great deal.
P.P.S. The last P.S. was no doubt a 'no brainer' but you have to give a bit of leeway given that I'm a bit daft and from the UK....Lol!!! Xxx
 
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baz

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Apr 11, 2014
Posts
235
CHANGING THE PAST

The past is the past for a reason
That is where it is supposed to stay
But some cannot let it go
In their heads it eats away

Until all their focus becomes
The person that they used to be
The mistakes they made in their life
Oh, if only they could see

That you cannot change what happened
No matter how hard you try
No matter how much you think about it
No matter how much you cry

What happens in your lifetime
Happens for reasons unknown
So you have to let the cards unfold
Let your story be shown

Don't get wrapped up in the negative
Be happy with what you have been given
Live for today not tomorrow
Get up, get out and start living

Because the past is the past for a reason
It's been and now it is gone
So stop trying to think of ways to fix it
It's done, it's unchangeable, move on
 

ping

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Jun 25, 2014
Posts
241
Pippa's Song

The year's at the spring
The day's at the mourn;
Mornings at seven;
The hillside ' dew-pearled;
The larks on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn;
God's in his heaven--
All's right with the world!

Robert Browning
 

ping

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Jun 25, 2014
Posts
241
I Never Saw a Moor

I never saw a moor,
I never saw the sea;
Yet know I how the Heather looks,
And what a wave must be.

I never spoke with God,
Nor visited in heaven;
Yet certain I am of the spot
As if the chart were given.


Emily Dickinson
 

baz

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Apr 11, 2014
Posts
235
WHEN LOVE DIES

When love dies,
It ceases to exist.
And the flame that used to be,
Ceases to persist

It feels like a wound that won't stop bleeding,
Like it's your last breath you're about to take,
And it feels like your soul's watching,
And all you can do is pray you wake.

When love dies,
It's like everything slows down to a stop
The tears that came rolling down your cheeks
Are taking ages to drop

To the cold tiled floor
I fell onto my knees,
It felt as if the light followed her shadow,
As she slammed closed the door...

Love died,
I know this because my soul died too.
And it was hurting as much
As all the pain I put her through.

When love died
I ceased to exist
The only thing that kept us together...
Ceased to persist.
 

baz

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Joined
Apr 11, 2014
Posts
235
Days of endless struggle
More hopeful pills today
Trying to appear 'normal'
In some sort of way.

It seems that the struggle
Is always here with me
And I wouldn't be here now
If guilt would leave me be

I know there's been many
Who've had it worse than I
But that doesn't always mean
That I wouldn't say good-bye

People say I have a lot going for me
I'm sorry, but I just can't see
I can't see because my worst enemy
Is not my life, but inside of me.

Always on a roller coaster,
Not much consistency
I'm nothing if I'm not up or down
I'm nothing if just 'me.'

Very little energy
Wanting to stay in bed
Wishing to be enthusiastic
Instead of feeling like I'm made of lead.

Wanting to be excited
Wanting to care for more
But when nothing makes sense
It's hard to focus on the poor.

Cluttered mind, cluttered thinking
It's hard to keep in touch
With what is happening around me
And not to worry too much.

I feel that everybody is better than me
And that I can't do anything right.
This is how I've felt my whole dang life
It didn't just start last night.

No confidence, no self-esteem
Everybody else is right
To speak my mind is to be a fool
So I just try to 'sit tight.'

Any one of these problems
Would be a heavy vice
But when you have them ALL
Living seems like a roll of the dice.
 

blowingrock

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Apr 19, 2011
Posts
9,042
The Charge of the Light Brigade

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

1.
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!
"Charge for the guns!" he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

2.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Someone had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

3.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.

4.
Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air,
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel'd from the sabre stroke
Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.

5.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

6.
When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made,
Honor the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred.


Copied from Poems of Alfred Tennyson,
J. E. Tilton and Company, Boston, 1870
 

ping

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Posts
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@baz Do you write these poems? I don't see any author credited. If you do, that is some wonderful self expression! I think poetry is such a lovely art form.
 
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blowingrock

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Great poem @blowingrock! You have great taste in music AND poetry.


Thank you @ping.
Funny thing about the poem is I adapted it at work for a paragraph or 2 because of being asked to do the impossible and it was really good, well to us, anyway.
The boss has moved on well in fact doesnt even work for the company anymore.
 

notcharlotte

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Jul 21, 2013
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i like your tennyson, @blowingrock, although i probably favor "the lady of shallot." as i recall, the tragedy happened because of either bad communications or bad command decisions, resulting in a ridiculous assault against a large, well-armed force. now, what exactly was your boss implying? did he expect you to do the impossible even though it would result in failure? or was he saying you had to follow his orders, even when you knew they were bad and guaranteed to end in disaster? i never thought of the light brigade as a model for a business environment. on the other hand, maybe your boss was just an english major. that literary background can be pesky at times.

maybe one of tennyson's contemporaries can help:

and we are here as on a darkling plain
swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight
where ignorant armies clash by night.
 

blowingrock

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i like your tennyson, @blowingrock, although i probably favor "the lady of shallot." as i recall, the tragedy happened because of either bad communications or bad command decisions, resulting in a ridiculous assault against a large, well-armed force. now, what exactly was your boss implying? did he expect you to do the impossible even though it would result in failure? or was he saying you had to follow his orders, even when you knew they were bad and guaranteed to end in disaster? i never thought of the light brigade as a model for a business environment. on the other hand, maybe your boss was just an english major. that literary background can be pesky at times.

maybe one of tennyson's contemporaries can help:

and we are here as on a darkling plain
swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight
where ignorant armies clash by night.


Good Day to you @notcharlotte.

Well you have it as I recall too. Of why the tragedy happened. Seems like I read something recently that it was over near the Black Sea area along the coast just beyond Constantinople (spell check) and very bad command decisions caused catastrophe for the soldiers. but they did as ordered.

I would say several apply for us (our work group) being asked to do the impossible within the constrains of what we have to work with. But we attempted it for a while then just seemed defeated and went through the motions. But could tell the outcome was not going to be good.
And the environment of the workspace had certain things about it that went very well with, the cannon to the right, etc.

In the end the company cancelled the project and 50 million in a hole in the ground wasted as one person called it.

Sometimes if a person , well like me, can't create a diversionary thought about a seemingly futile project or activity then I would be down trodden to point of …well you get the gist of it.

BTW another good would for improper use, eh? Gist of things. Or have I done it myself, ha ha. :p
 

djrick

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Aug 17, 2011
Posts
4,066
Bluebird

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I'm not going
to let anybody see
you.
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pour whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the ****s and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he's
in there.

there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?
there's a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I'm too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody's asleep.
I say, I know that you're there,
so don't be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he's singing a little
in there, I haven't quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it's nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don't
weep, do
you?
-Bukowski
 

baz

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Apr 11, 2014
Posts
235
Antwone Fisher is a great poet, and one of my favorites. I’ve read his book and own his poetry book. If you haven’t read them I strongly recommend you do.

Who will cry for the little boy?
By Antwone Fisher

who will cry for the little boy?
Lost andall alone.
Who will cry for the little boy?
Abandoned without his own?

Who will cry for the little boy?
He cried himself to sleep.
Who will cry for the little boy?
He never had for keeps.

Who will cry for the little boy?
He walked the burning sand
Who will cry for the little boy?
The boy inside the man.

Who will cry for the little boy?
Who knows well hurt and pain
Who will cry for the little boy?
He died again and again.

Who will cry for the little boy?
A good boy he tried to be
Who will cry for the little boy?
Who cries inside of me

by Antwone Fisher from Who Will Cry for the Little Boy?

antwone fisher to his former abusers;

"it dont matter what you tried to do,
you couldnt destroy me!
im still standing!
im still strong!
and i always will be.
 
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