Showing posts with label Poem of The Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poem of The Day. Show all posts
Where there is livestock there is deadstock or Ted sees a bird on the way to looking at a cow
Dead Farms, Dead Leaves
Cling to the long
Branch of world.
Stars sway the tress
Whose roots
Tigthen on an atom.
The birds, beautiful-eyed, with soft cries,
The cattle of heaven
Visit
And vanish.
Ted Hughes
Cling to the long
Branch of world.
Stars sway the tress
Whose roots
Tigthen on an atom.
The birds, beautiful-eyed, with soft cries,
The cattle of heaven
Visit
And vanish.
Ted Hughes
Yes yes I am starting with the easy ones but don't dismiss them just yet
A Kite is a Victim
A kite is a victim you are sure of.
You love it because it pulls
gentle enough to call you master,
strong enough to call you fool;
because it lives
like a desperate trained falcon
in the high sweet air
and you can always haul it down
to tame it in your drawer.
A kite is a fish you have already caught
in a pool where no fish come,
so you play him carefully and long,
and hope he won't give up,
or the wind die down.
A kite is the last poem you've written,
so you give it to the wind,
but you don't let it go
until someone finds you
something else to do.
A kite is a contract of glory
that must be made with the sun,
so you make friends with the field
the river and the wind,
then you pray the
whole cold night before,
under the travelling cordless moon,
to make you worthy and lyric and pure.
Leonard Cohen
A kite is a victim you are sure of.
You love it because it pulls
gentle enough to call you master,
strong enough to call you fool;
because it lives
like a desperate trained falcon
in the high sweet air
and you can always haul it down
to tame it in your drawer.
A kite is a fish you have already caught
in a pool where no fish come,
so you play him carefully and long,
and hope he won't give up,
or the wind die down.
A kite is the last poem you've written,
so you give it to the wind,
but you don't let it go
until someone finds you
something else to do.
A kite is a contract of glory
that must be made with the sun,
so you make friends with the field
the river and the wind,
then you pray the
whole cold night before,
under the travelling cordless moon,
to make you worthy and lyric and pure.
Leonard Cohen
Oy you lot! Get some Emily Dickinson up ya
Sure everybody is amazing posting all your 'song of the day's on Fspazbook. Songs are great, obviously, but why in the hell is no one doing Poem of The Day? I will start you off, here is an old and out of copyright one, still good though.
| Ample make this bed. Make this bed with awe; In it wait till judgment break Excellent and fair. Be its mattress straight, Be its pillow round; Let no sunrise' yellow noise Interrupt this ground. | |||||||||||||
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