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 Posted: Mon Nov 14, 2005 4:31 pm
Rules: *I get to make rules! I get to make rules! twisted *
1. Give credit if whatever you're going to write isn't yours. And it probably won't be, in most cases, since this is for favourite authors, poems etc...
2. No dissing! just because you don't like someone's favorite doesn't mean you can be mean to them.
3. If you feel like it, by all means criticise constructively
4. If it's a novel length, please just type the title and the author. And it be nice if it's tag with a price. And it's uber nice if you can give directions to where it can be read for free.
*scratches head* I can't think of any more rules... I'm not one for rules, you see...
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Posted: Mon Nov 14, 2005 4:41 pm
Light Love
by Roger Mais
I, remembering how light love
hath a soft footfall, and fleet
that goes clicking down
the hearts lone
and empty street
in a kind of
spread twilight-nimbus of the mind,
and a soft voice of shaken laughter
like the wind...
I, remembering this,
and remembering that light love is
as fragile as a kiss
Lightly given,
and passes like little rain
softly down-driven...
Bade love come to you
with rough male footsteps -
Deliberate -
That hurt to come,
and hurt to go...
And bade love to speak to you
with accents terrible, and slow.
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2005 11:38 pm
Annabel Lee
by Edgar Allan Poe, 1849
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
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Posted: Tue Nov 15, 2005 11:55 pm
To be, or not to be (from Hamlet 3/1)
by, William Shakespeare
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end
The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep;
To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause: there's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscover'd country from whose bourn
No traveller returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to others that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action. - Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.
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Posted: Fri Dec 09, 2005 9:59 am
SINCE FIRST I SAW YOUR FACE
Anon
Since first I saw your face, I resolved to honour and renown ye;
If now I be disdained, I wish my heart had never known ye.
What? I that loved and you that liked, shall we begin to wrangle?
No, no, no, my heart is fast, and cannot disentangle.
If I admire or praise you too much, that fault you may forgive me;
Or if my hands had strayed but a touch, then justly might you leave me.
I asked you leave, you bade me love; isn’t now a time to chide me?
No, no, no, I’ll love you still what fortune e’er betide me.
The sun, whose beams most glorious are, rejecteth no beholder,
And your sweet beauty past compare made my poor eyes the bolder;
Where beauty moves and wit delights and signs of kindness bind me,
There, O there, where’er I go I’ll leave my heart behind me!
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Posted: Fri Dec 16, 2005 7:58 am
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Posted: Fri Dec 16, 2005 8:03 am
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Posted: Fri Dec 16, 2005 8:06 am
Shaely To be, or not to be (from Hamlet 3/1) by, William Shakespeare To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles...
...The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember'd.(I can't resist, I'm sorry. I'll take these down if you all want. )  (Painting By John Waterhouse)
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Posted: Fri Dec 16, 2005 8:15 am
The Lorelei by Heinrich Heine (A poem orginating in Germany. Apparently she was a Siren of sorts.) Link: http://members.tripod.com/~Amis_Lee/heine.htm
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Posted: Tue Jan 24, 2006 2:39 pm
Reading Anabel Lee, reminded me of 8th grade, when in our english class, we had to memorize that, a Sonet, and the Highwayman. I still remember a lot of it from memory, though it's been a little over 4 years.
This poem was one I found while I was taking a Childrens Literature class (lots of fun, if you're ever thinking of taking one) I'm sure all of us, at one point in time has felt like this...
Homework
Jane Yolen
What is it about homework
That makes me want to write
My Great Aunt Myrt to thank her for
The sweater that's too tight?
What is it about homework
That makes me pick up socks
That stink from days and days of wear,
Then clean the litter box?
What is it about homework
That makes me volunteer
To take the garbage out before
The bugs and flies appear?
What is it about homework
That makes me wash my hair
And take an hour combing out
The snags and tangles there?
What is it about homework?
You know I wish I knew,
'Cause nights when I've got homework
I've got too much to do!
I got it from my text book, The Riverside Anthology of Children's Literature, 6th Edition.
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