Post your favourite Poems

[Ephemerid]

Paul Celan

Oh, yeah, Sidoze!  I love Celan's work (though a good chunk of it is very hard to understand, and what's worse for me is not being able to read him in German-- a LOT is lost in translation with him I understand).  He is to poetry what Webern is to music I think.  Terse, knotty and bleak. 

This is my favourite Celan poem:


PSALM


Noone kneads us again from earth and loam,
no one evokes our dust.
Noone.

Praised by you, noone.
Because of you we wish
to bloom.
Against
you.

A nothing
were we, are we, will
we be, blossoming:
the Nothing-, the
the nothing's-, the noonesrose.

With
its pistil soulbright,
its stamen heavencrazed,
its crown red
from the purpleword that we sang
over, o over
its thorn.

                ~ Paul Celan
                   Translated by Cid Corman

[Ephemerid]

Do not go gentle into that good night...

      -- Dylan Thomas

Haffner, I used to have a recording of Thomas reading this poem-- it was like-- WOW!!   

[Haffner]

Haffner, I used to have a recording of Thomas reading this poem-- it was like-- WOW!!   

Love to check that one out!

[Florestan]

Nichita Stãnescu , Romanian poet (1933-1983)

Sentimental story

Then we met more often.
I stood at one side of the hour,
you at the other,
like two handles of an amphora.
Only the words flew between us,
back and forth.
You could almost see their swirling,
and suddenly,
I would lower a knee,
and touch my elbow to the ground
to look at the grass, bent
by the falling of some word,
as though by the paw of a lion in flight.
The words spun between us,
back and forth,
and the more I loved you, the more
they continued, this whirl almost seen,
the structure of matter, the beginnings of things.

[Florestan]

(More from the same.)

Another kind of Mathematics

We know that one times one is one,
but an unicorn times a pear
have no idea what it is.
We know that five minus four is one
but a cloud minus a sailboat
have no idea what it is.
We know that eight
divided by eight is one,
but a mountain divided by a goat
have no idea what it is.
We know that one plus one is two,
but me and you, oh,
we have no idea what it is.

Oh, but a comforter
times a rabbit
is a red-headed one of course,
a cabbage divided by a flag
is a pig,
a horse minus a street-car
is an angel,
a cauliflower plus an egg
is an astragalus.

Only you and me
multiplied and divided
added and substracted
remain the same...

Vanish from my mind!
Come back in my heart!

[J.Z. Herrenberg]

I love Celan's poetry (I can read German). And Dylan Thomas has been with me for a very long time. I have cassettes of him reading his poetry (on the Caedmon label). I bought them in London, twenty years ago.

[Ephemerid]

Love to check that one out!

Haffner, lookee what I found   

Dylan Thomas: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uDJJ-4oXiCg

Ignore the cheesy animation though...

[Haffner]

Haffner, lookee what I found   

Dylan Thomas: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uDJJ-4oXiCg

Ignore the cheesy animation though...

Very cool.

[sidoze]

I love Celan's poetry (I can read German).

Have you ever heard him recite? It sounds just like great piano playing

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1Q70j8LHD0

[orbital]

I ended up getting this one instead:

http://www.amazon.com/Poems-Nazim-Hikmet-Revised-Expanded/dp/0892552743/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1204141704&sr=1-1



It appears to cover a wider range.  I hate it because neither of these books have a few pages to view, but I found a good handful of his poems (from this translation) on Poemhunter.com so I ordered this one, at least for starters.   

I am sure you'll enjoy him. He has some epic poems which are too long for me  but they would not be included in these anthologies in full anyway.

[J.Z. Herrenberg]

Have you ever heard him recite? It sounds just like great piano playing

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1Q70j8LHD0

I only know his recitation of the famous 'Todesfuge'. Very compelling.

I'll watch the YouTube video tomorrow - when I am in the mood for Celan...

[Ephemerid]

I only know his recitation of the famous 'Todesfuge'. Very compelling.

I'll watch the YouTube video tomorrow - when I am in the mood for Celan...

I love Celan, but yeah, he's definitely one to take in small doses!

[sidoze]

I only know his recitation of the famous 'Todesfuge'. Very compelling.

I'll watch the YouTube video tomorrow - when I am in the mood for Celan...

it's not a video -- just audio of Celan reciting Todesfuge. There are 4 or 5 other poems on there too.

I love Celan, but yeah, he's definitely one to take in small doses!

No, not small doses, but a big dose one time.

[Anne]

Kinnell writes so beautifully about the joys of marriage and monogamy. One of my favorites ends:

Isn't it worth missing whatever joy
you might have dreamed, to wake in the night and find
you and your beloved holding hands in your sleep?
                                               --Galway Kinnell "Why Regret"

Sergeant,

Thank you for that beautiful post.  I have sent it to both of my married daughters.

[Ephemerid]

One of my favourite Lucille Clifton poems:


THE LAST DAY


we will find ourselves surrounded
by our kind all of them now
wearing the eyes they had
only imagined possible
and they will reproach us
with those eyes
in a language more actual
than speech
asking why we allowed this
to happen asking why
for the love of God
we did this to ourselves
and we will answer
in our feeble voices because
because   because

                      ~ Lucille Clifton

[shive1]

"Home" by Edgar Guest

It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home,
A heap o' sun an' shadder, an' ye sometimes have t' roam
Afore ye really 'preciate the things ye lef' behind,
An' hunger fer 'em somehow, with 'em allus on yer mind.
It don't make any differunce how rich ye get t' be,
How much yer chairs an' tables cost, how great yer luxury;
It ain't home t' ye, though it be the palace of a king,
Until somehow yer soul is sort o' wrapped round everything.

Home ain't a place that gold can buy or get up in a minute;
Afore it's home there's got t' be a heap o' livin' in it;
Within the walls there's got t' be some babies born, and then
Right there ye've got t' bring 'em up t' women good, an' men;
And gradjerly as time goes on, ye find ye wouldn't part
With anything they ever used—they've grown into yer heart:
The old high chairs, the playthings, too, the little shoes they wore
Ye hoard; an' if ye could ye'd keep the thumb-marks on the door.

Ye've got t' weep t' make it home, ye've got t' sit an' sigh
An' watch beside a loved one's bed, an' know that Death is nigh;
An' in the stillness o' the night t' see Death's angel come,
An' close the eyes o' her that smiled, an' leave her sweet voice dumb.
Fer these are scenes that grip the heart, an'when yer tears are dried,
Ye find the home is dearer than it was, an' sanctified;
An' tuggin' at ye always are the pleasant memories
O' her that was an' is no more—ye can't escape from these.

Ye've got t' sing an' dance fer years, ye've got t' romp an' play,
An' learn t' love the things ye have by usin' 'em each day;
Even the roses 'round the porch must blossom year by year
Afore they 'come a part o' ye, suggestin' someone dear
Who used t' love 'em long ago, an' trained 'em jes t' run
The way they do, so's they would get the early mornin' sun;
Ye've got t' love each brick an' stone from cellar up t' dome:
It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home.

[Sergeant Rock]

I really love the Beats. Here's a favorite, quite funny, number 9 from Lawrence Ferlinghetti's A Coney Island of the Mind:



See
       it was like this when
                            we waltz into this place
a couple of Papish cats
                         is doing the Aztec two-step
And I says
               Dad let's cut
but then this dame
                     comes up behind me see
                                   and says
                          You and me could really exist
Wow I says
                Only the next day
                    she has bad teeth
                             and really hates
                                                   poetry
                     

[Sergeant Rock]

"Home" by Edgar Guest

....It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home.

Wow...it must be forty years or more since I last read that. Thanks for posting it.

Sarge

[Sergeant Rock]

A poem by the Big Bukowski:


the history of melancholia
includes all of us.

me, I writhe in dirty sheets
while staring at blue walls
and nothing.

I have gotten so used to melancholia
that
I greet it like an old
friend.

I will now do 15 minutes of grieving
for the lost redhead,
I tell the gods.

I do it and feel quite bad
quite sad,
then I rise
CLEANSED
even though nothing
is solved.

that's what I get for kicking
religion in the ass.

I should have kicked the redhead
in the ass
where her brains and her bread and
butter are
at ...

but, no, I've felt sad
about everything:
the lost redhead was just another
smash in a lifelong
loss ...

I listen to drums on the radio now
and grin.
there is something wrong with me
besides
melancholia
                                               Charles Bukowski,  "Melancholia"

[Ephemerid]

I really love the Beats. Here's a favorite, quite funny, number 9 from Lawrence Ferlinghetti's A Coney Island of the Mind:



See
       it was like this when
                            we waltz into this place
a couple of Papish cats
                         is doing the Aztec two-step
And I says
               Dad let's cut
but then this dame
                     comes up behind me see
                                   and says
                          You and me could really exist
Wow I says
                Only the next day
                    she has bad teeth
                             and really hates
                                                   poetry
                     

LOL I used to have a recording of Ferlinghetti reading this!  I can still hear him reading it: "You and me could really exist! WOW I says..."