My favorite poem. What 's yours?

Joseph Campbell formulated what became his most quoted dictum, "Follow your bliss" in the decade before his death. Join this conversation to explore this idea and share stories.

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Nermin
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Post by Nermin » Thu Aug 16, 2012 3:23 pm

Sorry Cindy, it won't happen again :(
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Post by Cindy B. » Thu Aug 16, 2012 3:55 pm

Thank you, Nermin. :)
If the path before you is clear, you’re probably on someone else’s. --Jung
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Post by Nermin » Thu Aug 16, 2012 7:37 pm

Cindy B. wrote:Thank you, Nermin. :)
BTW, what do you think about avantgarde poets?
I mean, what is your definition of good and bad poetry, Cindy?
And may-I ask why do-you think everything should be very orderly? :)
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Post by Cindy B. » Fri Aug 17, 2012 9:16 am

I'm quite certain, Nermin, that you have little genuine interest in my thoughts about poets, aesthetics, and orderliness, and I'm not going there. I will say, however, that I would appreciate it if you were to show me the same respect as a moderator and fellow poster that I invariably show you. Now should you want to talk about this more, feel free to send me a PM.

Cindy
If the path before you is clear, you’re probably on someone else’s. --Jung
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Post by Nermin » Fri Aug 17, 2012 10:53 am

Cindy,
I’m not a polished conversationalist and maybe
that’s a matter of social class.
BTW, thanks for the Blues Brothers song
that you linked to Music Corner.
That’s my cultural background and soft
anarchism. So sorry again if you feel offended
and don't be so certain about anything.

People like me cannot turn docile, they knoe
instinctively that they have to react everything.
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Post by Cindy B. » Fri Aug 17, 2012 11:05 am

Thank you, Nermin. I genuinely appreciate that, truly. :)

Cindy
If the path before you is clear, you’re probably on someone else’s. --Jung
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Post by CarmelaBear » Fri Aug 17, 2012 11:20 am

Letter Already Broadcast into Space

by Jake Adam York


—To Sun Ra, from Earth


You are not here,

you are not here
in Birmingham,
where they keep your name,

not in Elmwood's famous plots
or the monuments
of bronze or steel or the strew

of change in the fountain
where the firehoses sprayed.

In the furnaces,
in the interchange sprawl
that covers Tuxedo Junction,

in the shopping malls, I think,
they've forgotten you,

the broadcast towers, the barbecues,

the statue of the Roman god,
spiculum blotting out
part of the stars.

To get it dark enough,
I have to fold back
into the hills, into the trees

where my parents
planted me, where the TV
barely reaches and I drift

with my hand on the dial
of my father's radio,

spinning, too, the tall antenna
he raised above the pines.

I have to stand at the base

of the galvanized
pole I can use as an azimuth
and plot you in.

The hunter's belt is slung again,
and you are there

in the pulse, in the light of
Alnitak, Alnilam, Mintaka,

all your different names,

you are there
in all the rearrangements
of the stars.

Come down now,
come down again,

like the late fall light
into the mounds along the creek,

light that soaks like a flood
to show the Cherokee sitting upright
underground, light

like the fire they imply.

Come down now
into the crease the freight train
hits like a piano's hammer

and make the granite hum
beneath.

Come down now

as my hand slips from the dial,
tired again of looking
for the sound of another way

to say everything.

Come down now with your diction
and your dictionary.

Come down, Uncle, come down
and help me rise.

I have forgot my wings.
Once in a while a door opens, and let's in the future. --- Graham Greene
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Post by Cindy B. » Sat Aug 18, 2012 1:42 pm

Thank you, Carmela, a "poem about space" just as I suggested. :wink:


Prose is more my thing, but I will share this lovely poem:

Relativity
by Anonymous

There was a young lady so bright
She could travel much faster than light.
So she went out one day
In a relative way
And returned on the previous night.
*rim shot*


(Anonymous certainly is prolific, huh.)


:P
If the path before you is clear, you’re probably on someone else’s. --Jung
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Post by CarmelaBear » Sun Aug 19, 2012 1:34 pm

I remember that one.

They made a movie about Anonymous. He's Willie Shakespeare, you know. If it's written, then it's so (or not).

:lol:

The limerick packs laughs anatomical
In space that is quite economical.
But the good ones I've seen
So seldom are clean
And the clean ones so seldom are comical.

By Author Unknown
(related to Anon....first cousin twice removed....for cause, no doubt)

:P
Once in a while a door opens, and let's in the future. --- Graham Greene
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Post by Cindy B. » Sun Aug 19, 2012 4:00 pm

:lol:
If the path before you is clear, you’re probably on someone else’s. --Jung
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Post by CarmelaBear » Sun Aug 19, 2012 5:41 pm

Billy Collins:

Forgetfulness

The name of the author is the first to go
followed obediently by the title, the plot,
the heartbreaking conclusion, the entire novel
which suddenly becomes one you have never read,
never even heard of,

as if, one by one, the memories you used to harbor
decided to retire to the southern hemisphere of the brain,
to a little fishing village where there are no phones.

Long ago you kissed the names of the nine Muses goodbye
and watched the quadratic equation pack its bag,
and even now as you memorize the order of the planets,

something else is slipping away, a state flower perhaps,
the address of an uncle, the capital of Paraguay.

Whatever it is you are struggling to remember,
it is not poised on the tip of your tongue,
not even lurking in some obscure corner of your spleen.

It has floated away down a dark mythological river
whose name begins with an L as far as you can recall,
well on your own way to oblivion where you will join those
who have even forgotten how to swim and how to ride a bicycle.

No wonder you rise in the middle of the night
to look up the date of a famous battle in a book on war.
No wonder the moon in the window seems to have drifted
out of a love poem that you used to know by heart.
Once in a while a door opens, and let's in the future. --- Graham Greene
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Post by CarmelaBear » Sun Aug 19, 2012 5:45 pm

Once in a while a door opens, and let's in the future. --- Graham Greene
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Post by Cindy B. » Sun Aug 19, 2012 6:25 pm

:evil:

:wink:


We two should behave now, you think? (Thinking of other thread, too.) Also, it would be awkward trying to moderate myself in public.

:P
If the path before you is clear, you’re probably on someone else’s. --Jung
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Post by CarmelaBear » Sun Aug 19, 2012 10:07 pm

My Robot's Misbehaving

A Poem for Little Kids and Other People


My robot's misbehaving.
It won't do as I say.
It will not dust the furniture
or put my toys away.

My robot never helps me
with homework or my chores.
It doesn't do my laundry
and neglects to clean my floors.

It claims it can't cook dinner.
It never makes my bed.
No matter what I ask of it,
it simply shakes its head.

My robot must be broken.
I'll need to get another.
Until that day, I have to say,
I'm glad I have my mother.

--Kenn Nesbitt
Once in a while a door opens, and let's in the future. --- Graham Greene
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Post by Nermin » Mon Jan 28, 2013 8:12 am

One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow

And have been cold a long tyme
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

from The Snow Man by Wallace Stevens
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