Poetry Club

Rum, beer, women, movies, nice websites, gaming, etc., without interrupting the flow of martial threads.

Re: Poetry Club

Postby origami_itto on Wed Mar 16, 2022 5:26 am

wiesiek wrote:My private booklet from grammar school, when I (short time), played poet, is in vain.
but:
Bo kogóż rżnąć
gdy
same puszki wrogiem
i stal co cal
i gniew co zlew
choć
żygać już nie wolno...
8-)
lose translation:

Who has to be fuck,
when
only cans are enemy
and steel what a inch
and anger what a sink
although, throwin` out already forbidden...


Ah the musicality of Polish.
...

Polish translation from one of "Alice in w. " poem ,
enjoy:

Było smaszno
i jaszmije smukwijne wężały
Peliczaple stały smutcholijne
a zbłąkinie
rykoświstąkały.

ach Jabbersmoka strzeż się strzeż
szponów jak kły i tnących szczęk
drżyj
gdy nadpełga banderzwierz
lub dżubdżub ptakojęk


Okay so that's something I never thought I would see, jabberwocky in Polish.
It don't mean a thing, if it ain't got that jing.
"What is essential is invisible to the eye"
Have Peng, Will Travel.
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Re: Poetry Club

Postby wiesiek on Wed Mar 16, 2022 10:06 am

:) below rest of the verses.
funny, I remember whole thing from childhood, I have never learned it by heart.

w dłoń ujął migbystalny miecz
za swym pogromnym wrogiem mknie
łeb uciął mu i co tchu
galumfująco mknie

cudobry mój, uściśnij mnie
gdy Jabbersmoka sciął twój cios
o wielny dniu, kalej kalu
śmieselił się wraz w głos

było smaszno i jaszmije smukwijne
na zegwniku wężały
peliczaple stały smutcholijne
a zbłąkinie rykoświstąkały.
Joyful Fruits of the Live
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Re: Poetry Club

Postby RickMatz on Wed Mar 16, 2022 10:21 am

Basho's frog went plop
and never heard from again.
A snapping turtle.
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Re: Poetry Club

Postby Tom on Sat Mar 26, 2022 11:52 am

RickMatz wrote:Basho's frog went plop
and never heard from again.
A snapping turtle.


;D
I find something good in all folks. We all have our faults, some worse than others, and we all have our good points, some better than most.- Jack Dempsey
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Re: Poetry Club

Postby Tom on Sat Mar 26, 2022 12:08 pm

origami_itto wrote:I used to write about sex and women a lot.



It don't mean a thing
If it ain't got that jing

(Mawangdui oh mawangdui)
Mawangwang dududui yeah)

Laozi got on an ox
Left his lyrics in a box
(Mawangdui oh mawangdui
Mawangwang dududui yeah)

It makes no difference
If it's shen qi or yi
Without that jing baby
Where are we?


Oh, it don't mean a thing
If it ain't got that jing
(Mawangdui oh mawangdui
Mawangwang dududui yeah)


[with apologies to The Duke]
I find something good in all folks. We all have our faults, some worse than others, and we all have our good points, some better than most.- Jack Dempsey
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Re: Poetry Club

Postby Quigga on Sat Mar 26, 2022 10:58 pm

Hahaha :D
Enjoying the illusion is true freedom
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Re: Poetry Club

Postby origami_itto on Fri Apr 08, 2022 6:41 am

Okay, so, this is probably a HUGE mistake.
This morning I felt a little squirrely so I decided to record myself reciting one of my favorite poems written by myself to send to my wife who is visiting friends in Texas this weekend.
I hadn't thought about this poem in about 8 years and I was waiting for my coffee to brew, so you get what you get. I get a little choked up at the end.
It don't mean a thing, if it ain't got that jing.
"What is essential is invisible to the eye"
Have Peng, Will Travel.
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Re: Poetry Club

Postby everything on Fri Apr 08, 2022 6:49 am

beautiful poem, beautiful recitation, hope she loves this! thanks for sharing here
amateur practices til gets right pro til can't get wrong
/ better approx answer to right q than exact answer to wrong q which can be made precise /
“most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. Source of all true art & science
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Re: Poetry Club

Postby Giles on Fri Apr 08, 2022 7:49 am

Not a mistake, I think. I get about two-thirds of the content and all the delivery: nice! If it comes from the heart, it's sometimes good to take the risk and just put it out there.
Do not make the mistake of giving up the near in order to seek the far.
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Re: Poetry Club

Postby origami_itto on Fri Apr 08, 2022 5:03 pm

Thanks y'all.
It don't mean a thing, if it ain't got that jing.
"What is essential is invisible to the eye"
Have Peng, Will Travel.
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Re: Poetry Club

Postby Tom on Fri Apr 08, 2022 6:31 pm

Not my poetry, but I like this fella's recitation of Dylan's lyrics:



https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MhTesTSJbsg
I find something good in all folks. We all have our faults, some worse than others, and we all have our good points, some better than most.- Jack Dempsey
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Re: Poetry Club

Postby BruceP on Sat Apr 09, 2022 10:13 am

Something I wrote a long time ago:

The deer knows when to drink
Naturally
The tiger knows this well
Appeals to authority is why we can't have nice things
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Re: Poetry Club

Postby Quigga on Mon Apr 11, 2022 12:56 pm

The king is dead. Long live the king!
Enjoying the illusion is true freedom
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Re: Poetry Club

Postby GrahamB on Sun Apr 24, 2022 12:59 am

“I wrote this poem 8 months ago and it changed my life”
by John Roedel
https://www.facebook.com/johnbigjohn

my brain and
heart divorced
a decade ago
over who was
to blame about
how big of a mess
I have become
eventually,
they couldn't be
in the same room
with each other
now my head and heart
share custody of me
I stay with my brain
during the week
and my heart
gets me on weekends
they never speak to one another
- instead, they give me
the same note to pass
to each other every week
and their notes they
send to one another always
says the same thing:
"This is all your fault"
on Sundays
my heart complains
about how my
head has let me down
in the past
and on Wednesday
my head lists all
of the times my
heart has screwed
things up for me
in the future
they blame each
other for the
state of my life
there's been a lot
of yelling - and crying
so,
lately, I've been
spending a lot of
time with my gut
who serves as my
unofficial therapist
most nights, I sneak out of the
window in my ribcage
and slide down my spine
and collapse on my
gut's plush leather chair
that's always open for me
~ and I just sit sit sit sit
until the sun comes up
last evening,
my gut asked me
if I was having a hard
time being caught
between my heart
and my head
I nodded
I said I didn't know
if I could live with
either of them anymore
"my heart is always sad about
something that happened yesterday
while my head is always worried
about something that may happen tomorrow,"
I lamented
my gut squeezed my hand
"I just can't live with
my mistakes of the past
or my anxiety about the future,"
I sighed
my gut smiled and said:
"in that case,
you should
go stay with your
lungs for a while,"
I was confused
- the look on my face gave it away
"if you are exhausted about
your heart's obsession with
the fixed past and your mind's focus
on the uncertain future
your lungs are the perfect place for you
there is no yesterday in your lungs
there is no tomorrow there either
there is only now
there is only inhale
there is only exhale
there is only this moment
there is only breath
and in that breath
you can rest while your
heart and head work
their relationship out."
this morning,
while my brain
was busy reading
tea leaves
and while my
heart was staring
at old photographs
I packed a little
bag and walked
to the door of
my lungs
before I could even knock
she opened the door
with a smile and as
a gust of air embraced me
she said
"what took you so long?"
Chai-drinking ninja.
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Re: Poetry Club

Postby origami_itto on Sun Apr 24, 2022 5:38 am

Bill

he put three cigarette lighters
shaped like pistols
on the coffee table
between a test tube
tweezers
and a flat-tipped jewelers screwdriver
before passing the pipe to the left

he said they made these torches too weak
the smoke like an albatross
around his neck

he lit a cigarette
through three-inch butane jetfire
and drank cheap beer

somebody complained
that Bill would take forever
but nobody meant it
and he wouldn't hit it
until the fire was just right

but it don't matter
the meth high lasts
and he had stories
to fill twenty minutes more

he said he
stole the third lighter from the gook
that ran the quikstop and
talked about
how easy m-16s clean

as he pulled two of those lighters to pieces
laying each part down
side by side in pairs
and he put the third one in his pocket
and he only put one
back together

and i don't know what he did with the pieces
but they were gone
and it was tight
as his nerves on the fourth of july
and shot flames twice as high

and I wanted to ask him
about the stories nobody can finish
unless they're trying to sell you something

because Paint It Black is just a song and
Willem Dafoe is just an actor
and Bill is just a shell
that moves and smiles sometimes
when he's high enough and
shakes most other times

and he's alone not fighting Spiderman
just spiders in his head
sometimes he dances though
to Paint It Black and cries but
now he's focused

and tonight he's smoking glass and
fucking his best friend's wife
and it's all right
I don't want to ruin that
I take the pipe
and try to make him laugh
It don't mean a thing, if it ain't got that jing.
"What is essential is invisible to the eye"
Have Peng, Will Travel.
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