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Post by nutsberryfarm 🏜 on Oct 3, 2019 17:55:41 GMT
Afton Water
BY ROBERT BURNS
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praise;
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
Thou stock-dove, whose echo resounds thro' the glen,
Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den,
Thou green-crested lapwing, thy screaming forbear,
I charge you disturb not my slumbering fair.
How lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighbouring hills,
Far mark'd with the courses of clear winding rills;
There daily I wander as noon rises high,
My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye.
How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below,
Where wild in the woodlands the primroses blow;
There oft, as mild Ev'ning sweeps over the lea,
The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me.
Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides,
And winds by the cot where my Mary resides,
How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave,
As gathering sweet flowrets she stems thy clear wave.
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,
Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays;
My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,
Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.
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Post by Ass_E9 on Oct 3, 2019 18:38:00 GMT
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
BY ROBERT FROST
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
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Post by nutsberryfarm 🏜 on Oct 4, 2019 2:46:36 GMT
‘Tell me not here, it needs not saying’
A.E. Housman
Tell me not here, it needs not saying,
What tune the enchantress plays
In aftermaths of soft September
Or under blanching mays,
For she and I were long acquainted
And I knew all her ways.
On russet floors, by waters idle,
The pine lets fall its cone;
The cuckoo shouts all day at nothing
In leafy dells alone;
And traveller’s joy beguiles in autumn
Hearts that have lost their own.
On acres of the seeded grasses
The changing burnish heaves;
Or marshalled under moons of harvest
Stand still all night the sheaves;
Or beeches strip in storms for winter
And stain the wind with leaves.
Possess, as I possessed a season,
The countries I resign,
Where over elmy plains the highway
Would mount the hills and shine,
And full of shade the pillared forest
Would murmur and be mine.
For nature, heartless, witless nature,
Will neither care nor know
What stranger’s feet may find the meadow
And trespass there and go,
Nor ask amid the dews of morning
If they are mine or no.
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Post by Morgana on Oct 4, 2019 9:06:43 GMT
Andrew Marvell - my favourite of the 'carpe diem' poems.
To His Coy Mistress
Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love’s day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love would grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow;
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
But at my back I always hear
Time’s winged chariot hurrying near:
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found;
Nor, in thy marble vaults, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long-preserved virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust:
The grave’s a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapped power.
Let us roll all our strength, and all
Our sweetness, up into one ball,
And tear our pleasure with rough strife
Through the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.
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Post by OldSamVimes on Oct 5, 2019 9:08:49 GMT
Yo, making moves back and forth uptown
60 dollars plus toll is the cab fee
Wintertime bubble goose, goose, clouds of smoke
Music blastin' and the Arab V blunted
Whip smelling like fish from 125th
Throwin' ketchup on my fries, hitting baseball spliffs
Back seat with my leg all stiff
Push the fuckin' seat up, tartar sauce on my S Dot kicks
Rocks is lit while I'm poppin' the clips
I'm ready for war, got to call the Cuban guys
Got the Montana booth in front of the store
Made my usual gun check, safety off, come on Frank
The moment is here, take your fuckin' hood off
And tell the driver to stay put
Fuck them niggas on the block they shook, most of them won't look
They frontin', they no crooks they fuck up they own jux
Look out for Jackson 5-0 'cause they on foot
Straight ahead is the doorway, see that lady with the shopping cart
She keep a shottie cocked in the hallway
Damn she look pretty old Ghost
She work for Kevin, she 'bout 77
She paid her dues when she smoked his brother in law at his bosses' wedding
Flew to Venezuela quickly when the big fed stepped in
3 o'clock, watch the kids, third floor, last door
You look paranoid that's why I can't juks with you
Why? Why you behind me leery?
Shakey Dog stutterin', when you got the bigger cooker on you
You is a crazy motherfucker, small Hoodie dude
Hilarious move, you on some Curly, Moe, Larry shit
Straight parry shit, Krispy Kreme
Cocaine, dead bodies, jail time you goin' carry it
Matter of fact, all the cash, I'ma carry it
Stash it in jelly and break it down at the Marriott
This is the spot, yo son your burner cocked?
These fuckin' maricons on the couch watchin' Sanford and Son
Passin' they rum, fried plantains and rice, big round onions on a T-bone steak
My stomach growling, yo I want some
Hold on, somebody's comin', get behind me, knock at the door
Act like you stickin' me up, put the joint to my face
Push me in quickly when the bitch open up
Remember you don't know me, blast him if he reach for his gun
Yo who goes there? Tony, Tony one second homie
No matter rain, sleet or snow you know you supposed to phone me
Off came the latch, Frank pushed me into the door
The door flew open, dude had his mouth open
Frozen, stood still with his heat bulgin'
Told him, "Freeze!" lay the fuck down and enjoy the moment
Frank snatched his gat, slapped him, asked him
Where's the cash, coke and the crack? Get to smokin' you fast
His wife stood up speakin' in Spanish, big tittie bitch holdin' the cannon
Ran in the kitchen, threw a shot
The kick in the four-fifth broke a bone in her wrist
And she dropped the heat, "Give up the coke!", but the bitch wouldn't listen
I'm on the floor like, "Holy shit!", watchin' my man Frank get busy
He zoned out, finished off my man's wiz
He let the pitbull out, big head Bruno with the little shark's teeth chargin'
Foamin' out the mouth, I'm scared
Frank screamin', blowin' shots in the air
Missin' his target, off the Frigidare, it grazed my ear
Killed that bullshit pit, ran to the bathroom butt first
Frank put two holes in the doorman's Sassoon
The coke's in the vacuum, got to the bathroom, faced his bad moves
The big one had the centipede stab wound
Frank shot the skinny dude, laid him out
The bigger dude popped Frankie boy, played him out
To be continued...
(Ghostface Killah)
Now you can sing along!
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Post by OldSamVimes on Oct 5, 2019 9:26:47 GMT
The Two Bears
Once
After a hard day forage
Two bears sat together in silence
On a beautiful vista
Watching the sun go down
And feeling deeply grateful
For life.
Though, after a while
A thought-provoking conversation began
Which turned to the topic of
Fame.
The one bear said,
“Did you hear about Rustam?
He has become famous
And travels from city to city
In a golden cage;
He performs for hundreds of people
Who laugh and applaud
His carnival
Stunts.
The other bear thought for
A few seconds
Then started
Weeping.
--Hafiz
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Post by nutsberryfarm 🏜 on Oct 6, 2019 23:21:36 GMT
Carmel Point by Robinson Jeffers
The extraordinary patience of things!
This beautiful place defaced with a crop of surburban houses-
How beautiful when we first beheld it,
Unbroken field of poppy and lupin walled with clean cliffs;
No intrusion but two or three horses pasturing,
Or a few milch cows rubbing their flanks on the outcrop rockheads-
Now the spoiler has come: does it care?
Not faintly. It has all time. It knows the people are a tide
That swells and in time will ebb, and all
Their works dissolve. Meanwhile the image of the pristine beauty
Lives in the very grain of the granite,
Safe as the endless ocean that climbs our cliff.-As for us:
We must uncenter our minds from ourselves;
We must unhumanize our views a little, and become confident
As the rock and ocean that we were made from.
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