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Post by GreenFerret on Apr 17, 2006 1:58:43 GMT -5
Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself. But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. ~ Kahlil Gibran There's some lovely words being posted here, but I have to say these really caught my attention. That passage is really beautiful.
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Post by wagnerr on Apr 19, 2006 13:17:08 GMT -5
I've always considered flabbergast and Bam! to be farily beautiful and eloquent words.
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Post by Buzzz on Apr 21, 2006 20:55:16 GMT -5
I've always loved this section of Philip Larkin's poem Church Going- it's the last part of the first stanza and the first couple of the second (I recommend you read the whole poem): Mounting the lectern, I peruse a few Hectoring large-scale verses, and pronounce "Here endeth" much more loudly than I'd meant. The echoes snigger briefly. Back at the door I sign the book, donate an Irish sixpence, Reflect the place was not worth stopping for.
Yet stop I did: in fact I often do, And always end much at a loss like this...
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Post by feyish on Apr 22, 2006 0:21:12 GMT -5
lol "snigger" i'll find a way to put that into my everyday vocabulary. thanks for the new word ;D
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Post by Stranger on Apr 23, 2006 2:34:55 GMT -5
I quite liked it.
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Post by theinfiniteabyss84 on Apr 24, 2006 23:31:18 GMT -5
This is from The Pied Piper of Hamelin by Robert Browning which is a reeeeallly long poem. Its great to read outloud I think this is the most beautiful section of the poem... Did I say, all? No! One was lame, And could not dance the whole of the way; And in after years, if you would blame His sadness, he was used to say, -- It's dull in our town since my playmates left! I can't forget that I'm bereft Of all the pleasant sights they see, Which the Piper also promised me. For he led us, he said, to a joyous land, Joining the town and just at hand, Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew, And flowers put forth a fairer hue, And everything was strange and new; The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here, And their dogs outran our fallow deer, And honey-bees had lost their stings, And just as I became assured My lame foot would be speedily cured, The music stopped and I stood still, And found myself outside the hill, Left alone against my will, To go now limping as before, And never hear of that country more!'' ~i.a
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Post by nats on May 24, 2006 19:55:11 GMT -5
Come slowly- Eden! Lips unused to thee- Bashful- sip thy Jessamines- As the fainting bee-
Reachign late his flower, Round her chamber hums- Counts his nectars- Enters- and is lost in balms.
Emily Dickinson.
I think that poems so lovely, and so romantic.
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Post by audioalone on Jun 8, 2007 18:55:02 GMT -5
Some poem or song titles, etc. I like:
"You and me against the world" - The next (if any) man I get involved with I would want for us to be this way.
"On the Street Where You Live" from (My Fair Lady) - I just love this song and this song reflects how I feel also regarding romance - I want to be swept off my feet, etc.
I have often walked down this street before But the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before ...once am I several stories high knowing I'm on the street where you live...
And ohh, the towering feeling ....somehow you are near The overpowering feeling That any second you might suddenly appear
People stop and stare That don't bother me 'Cause there's no where else on earth That I would rather be
....I don't care if I Can be seen on the street where you live
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Post by wakingdream on Nov 24, 2007 8:52:40 GMT -5
I can really relate to the band 'the smiths', in particular the song How Soon is Now?
''I am the son And the heir Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar I am the son and the heir Of nothing in particular
You shut your mouth How can you say I go about things the wrong way I am Human and I need to be loved Just like everybody else does
There's a club, if you like to go You could meet somebody who really loves you So you go, and you stand on your own And you leave on your own And you go home And you cry And you want to die
When you say it's gonna happen "now", Well, when exactly do you mean? See I've already waited too long And all my hope is gone.. ''
I can't go out without thinking of that song..
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Post by Sweet Pea on Dec 6, 2007 16:38:49 GMT -5
And a poet said, "Speak to us of Beauty."
Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?
And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?
The aggrieved and the injured say, "Beauty is kind and gentle.
Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us."
And the passionate say, "Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.
Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us."
The tired and the weary say, "Beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.
Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow."
But the restless say, "We have heard her shouting among the mountains,
And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions."
At night the watchmen of the city say, "Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east."
And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, "we have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset."
In winter say the snow-bound, "She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills."
And in the summer heat the reapers say, "We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair."
All these things have you said of beauty.
Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.
It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,
But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.
It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.
It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,
But rather a garden forever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.
People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.
from The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran
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Post by pluralzalpha2 on Feb 8, 2010 22:49:23 GMT -5
" . . .and the chicken thrust it's head up, and bravely walked towards the guillotine, knowing that its sacrifice would feed a hungry human and bing happiness to a select few . . . " poetic and yummy food for thot
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Post by pluralzalpha2 on Feb 8, 2010 23:07:08 GMT -5
beautiful words...humm let's see
one's name being called by another is said to be the most beautiful word or sound he or she can hear...
especially if it is accompanied by "I love you and want to marry you; and if you say yes you'll make me very happy"
okay that was my emotional example. I'm too tired right now to think of something on a deeper level like poetry. Maybe another day.
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