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02-22-2009, 10:10 PM | #91 |
Paranoid Schizophrenic
Join Date: May 2008
Location: Florida
Posts: 6,515
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My favorite poets are Leonard Cohen & Edgar Allen Poe. You have to love the Raven. Here's the first few verses:
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.' Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore - For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating `'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door - Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; - This it is, and nothing more,' Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, `Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; - Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!' This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!' Merely this and nothing more.
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02-22-2009, 10:12 PM | #92 |
Paranoid Schizophrenic
Join Date: May 2008
Location: Florida
Posts: 6,515
|
Quote:
Dr Whom!!! I love the Haiku! Way to bring the poetic style of the orient into everyone's home. We should make a thread that is Haiku poems submitted by Tankers and they have to Joe relevant.
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DD's HISS TANK TOY STORE: Visit my B/S/T thread for all your GI JOE needs (and more). Shipping is ACTUAL and satisfaction is guaranteed. . . DD's FEEDBACK: |
02-22-2009, 10:14 PM | #93 |
Paranoid Schizophrenic
Join Date: May 2008
Location: Florida
Posts: 6,515
|
Quote:
Haha... That's the best one yet!
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DD's HISS TANK TOY STORE: Visit my B/S/T thread for all your GI JOE needs (and more). Shipping is ACTUAL and satisfaction is guaranteed. . . DD's FEEDBACK: |
02-22-2009, 10:16 PM | #94 |
POC Giant Robo
Join Date: Oct 2008
Location: I am Michigan
Posts: 3,119
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In my close group of friends, we all must send our emails to each other in haiku form so I keep in good practice.
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Diogenes, one of the better known proponents of the school of Cynics, was often seen to be strolling about with a lamp in broad daylight and when asked what it was for, he would reply "I'm looking for an honest man." Bartertown (BST) http://www.hisstank.com/forum/g-i-jo...o-he-sick.html Testify here (feedback) http://www.hisstank.com/forum/buy-se...9-dr-whom.html |
02-23-2009, 03:35 AM | #95 |
pegwarmer.
Join Date: Jan 2008
Location: The MI
Posts: 2,287
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Quote:
A good choice.
Some say the world will end in fire, Some say in ice. From what I've tasted of desire I hold with those who favor fire. But if I had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say thay for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice. "Nothing gold can stay" tops my charts as well. Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay. Robert Frost (audio poems) IMS: Robert Frost, HarperAudio I'm currently saving money to get the words "Desert Places" tattooed on my arm Desert Places Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast In a field I looked into going past, And the ground almost covered smooth in snow, But a few weeds and stubble showing last. The woods around it have it—it is theirs. All animals are smothered in their lairs. I am too absent-spirited to count; The loneliness includes me unawares. And lonely as it is, that loneliness Will be more lonely ere it will be less— A blanker whiteness of benighted snow With no expression, nothing to express. They cannot scare me with their empty spaces Between stars—on stars where no human race is. I have it in me so much nearer home To scare myself with my own desert places.
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