Poetry

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Topic: Poetry
Posted: 07 Dec 2009 at 10:24am

A gust of wind upon my face
tree of light quivers in the distance
a bird of prey in the cloudy sky
this is the ghost of the equinox

wisdom favours the dead badger
as the tree of light sheds a tear
the equinox rotates again
as the young man dreams of redemption

ABSTRACT ART

The best in the world at what i do

Formerly Gouldinho

Chris Jericho View Drop Down

Ronnie Whelan

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Posted: 07 Dec 2009 at 10:26am

Excellent work

The best in the world at what i do

Formerly Gouldinho

BigStrongMan View Drop Down

Robbie Keane

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Posted: 07 Dec 2009 at 10:45am

Very moving

PM me for all forum moderation queries.

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Posted: 07 Dec 2009 at 11:47am

Thanks BSM. It is about Zail Singh, the president of India from 1982-87 when he was a young man

The best in the world at what i do

Formerly Gouldinho

Barry

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Posted: 07 Dec 2009 at 4:18pm

My face is finished, my body's gone.
And I can't help but think standin' up here in all this applause and gazin' down at all the young and the beautiful.
With their questioning eyes.
That I must above all things love myself.

I saw a girl in the crowd,
I ran over I shouted out,
I asked if I could take her out,
But she said that she didn't want to.

I changed the sheets on my bed,
I combed the hairs across my head,
I sucked in my gut and still she said
That she just didn't want to.

I read her Eliot, read her Yeats,
I tried my best to stay up late,
I fixed the hinges on her gate,
But still she just never wanted to.

I bought her a dozen snow-white doves,
I did her dishes in rubber gloves,
I called her Honeybee, I called her Love,
But she just still didn't want to. She just never wants to.

I sent her every type of flower,
I played her guitar by the hour,
I patted her revolting little chihuahua,
But still she just didn't want to.

I wrote a song with a hundred lines,
I picked a bunch of dandelions,
I walked her through the trembling pines,
But she just even then didn't want to. She just never wants to.

I thought I'd try another tack,
I drank a litre of cognac,
I threw her down upon her back,
But she just lay up and said that she just didn't want to.

I thought I'd have another go,
I called her my little ho,
I felt like Marcel Marceau
must feel when she said that she just never wanted to. She just didn't want to.

I got the no pussy blues.

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Posted: 07 Dec 2009 at 4:21pm

That was beautiful Q man. is it about the crisis in Darfur?

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Formerly Gouldinho

Barry

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Posted: 07 Dec 2009 at 4:26pm

Chris Jericho wrote:

That was beautiful Q man. is it about the crisis in Darfur?

bout afella who cant get his weasel greased

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Posted: 07 Dec 2009 at 4:36pm

It was sexual

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Formerly Gouldinho

Barry

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Posted: 07 Dec 2009 at 4:57pm

Chris Jericho wrote:

It was sexual

nick caves a legend

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Posted: 08 Dec 2009 at 5:37am

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

"Insert Funny Comment"

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