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Poetry Corner
- Thread starter gandalfe
- Start date
Step-Back Lauri
Well-Known Member
I spent a year writing poetry in my youth. And drinking. And... Well, that's something left behind the closed curtains.
I really like all kinda stuff. From Americans, T.S. Eliot, Bukowski and Hal Sirowitz should be enough to give an impression of my likings. Worldwidely, I'd think Jaan Kaplinski, Artur Rimbaud and many old Chinese poets are my most read ones. Best Finnish poets of all time imo are Arto Melleri and Kirsi Kunnas (her poetic children's books are enriching imagination in that precious time of being a child)
***
I chose to quote Hal Sirowitz poem, bc I haven't ever laughed as much reading anything poetic than his stuff. It's direct, pretty prose like and hilarious. Read all of his stuff, It's so fun.
The Fame Game
You have this need to be famous,
my therapist said, but I think
you should get a job first. If
you look at all the famous people,
they all had jobs. George Bush
never looks like he’s doing anything,
but he was once a President. You have
to start from somewhere. Otherwise
you’ll be famous inside
your own head, but so is everyone else.
I really like all kinda stuff. From Americans, T.S. Eliot, Bukowski and Hal Sirowitz should be enough to give an impression of my likings. Worldwidely, I'd think Jaan Kaplinski, Artur Rimbaud and many old Chinese poets are my most read ones. Best Finnish poets of all time imo are Arto Melleri and Kirsi Kunnas (her poetic children's books are enriching imagination in that precious time of being a child)
***
I chose to quote Hal Sirowitz poem, bc I haven't ever laughed as much reading anything poetic than his stuff. It's direct, pretty prose like and hilarious. Read all of his stuff, It's so fun.
The Fame Game
You have this need to be famous,
my therapist said, but I think
you should get a job first. If
you look at all the famous people,
they all had jobs. George Bush
never looks like he’s doing anything,
but he was once a President. You have
to start from somewhere. Otherwise
you’ll be famous inside
your own head, but so is everyone else.
The Chrysanthemums in the Eastern Garden
by: Bai Juyi (772-846) translated by Arthur Waley
The days of my youth left me long ago;
And now in their turn dwindle my years of prime.
With what thoughts of sadness and loneliness
I walk again in this cold, deserted place!
In the midst of the garden long I stand alone;
The sunshine, faint; the wind and dew chill.
The autumn lettuce is tangled and turned to seed;
The fair trees are blighted and withered away.
All that is left are a few chrysanthemum-flowers
That have newly opened beneath the wattled fence.
I had brought wine and meant to fill my cup,
When the sight of these made me stay my hand.
I remember, when I was young,
How easily my mood changed from sad to gay.
If I saw wine, no matter what season,
Before I drank it, my heart was already glad.
But now that age comes,
A moment of joy is harder and harder to get.
And always I fear that when I am quite old
The strongest liquor will leave me comfortless.
Therefore I ask you, late chrysanthemum-flower
At this sad season why do you bloom alone?
Though well I know that it was not for my sake,
Taught by you, for a while I will open my face.
by: Bai Juyi (772-846) translated by Arthur Waley
The days of my youth left me long ago;
And now in their turn dwindle my years of prime.
With what thoughts of sadness and loneliness
I walk again in this cold, deserted place!
In the midst of the garden long I stand alone;
The sunshine, faint; the wind and dew chill.
The autumn lettuce is tangled and turned to seed;
The fair trees are blighted and withered away.
All that is left are a few chrysanthemum-flowers
That have newly opened beneath the wattled fence.
I had brought wine and meant to fill my cup,
When the sight of these made me stay my hand.
I remember, when I was young,
How easily my mood changed from sad to gay.
If I saw wine, no matter what season,
Before I drank it, my heart was already glad.
But now that age comes,
A moment of joy is harder and harder to get.
And always I fear that when I am quite old
The strongest liquor will leave me comfortless.
Therefore I ask you, late chrysanthemum-flower
At this sad season why do you bloom alone?
Though well I know that it was not for my sake,
Taught by you, for a while I will open my face.
It happens all the time in heaven
Hafiz (1325–1390), translated by Daniel Ladinsky
It happens all the time in heaven,
And some day
It will begin to happen
Again on earth -
That men and women who are married,
And men and men who are Lovers,
And women and women who give each other Light,
Often get down on their knees and while
So tenderly holding their lovers hand, with
Tear-filled eyes will sincerely say, “My dear,
How can I be more loving to you; my darling,
How can I be more kind?"
Hafiz (1325–1390), translated by Daniel Ladinsky
It happens all the time in heaven,
And some day
It will begin to happen
Again on earth -
That men and women who are married,
And men and men who are Lovers,
And women and women who give each other Light,
Often get down on their knees and while
So tenderly holding their lovers hand, with
Tear-filled eyes will sincerely say, “My dear,
How can I be more loving to you; my darling,
How can I be more kind?"
I used to read TS Eliot when I was young. I went through a phase of reading Lorca too. I need to read more, more Marquez, I miss that.
Know It All - BY MICHAEL ROBBINS
I act like I know it all. But you,
you act like you know it all.
We can’t both be wrong. Still,
neither of us should have children.
Your head’s in a sack. In a sack
with a snake with two heads.
And my head is even older than
our initial calculations implied.
I know many names for sitting cross-legged,
none for never getting up again.
You, you speak as if you just checked,
but it’s not even up to you.
Fox pulls a rabbit out of a duck
and keeps the wound-up hounds upwind.
Hedgehog carries one trick around
like a small booth atop an elephant.
And both of us, elephant and booth,
carry from birth what can’t be cast off
by dying. How can we corrupt the young?
The young don’t even know we exist.
I act like I know it all. But you,
you act like you know it all.
We can’t both be wrong. Still,
neither of us should have children.
Your head’s in a sack. In a sack
with a snake with two heads.
And my head is even older than
our initial calculations implied.
I know many names for sitting cross-legged,
none for never getting up again.
You, you speak as if you just checked,
but it’s not even up to you.
Fox pulls a rabbit out of a duck
and keeps the wound-up hounds upwind.
Hedgehog carries one trick around
like a small booth atop an elephant.
And both of us, elephant and booth,
carry from birth what can’t be cast off
by dying. How can we corrupt the young?
The young don’t even know we exist.
As you wish. This is the classic version I heard as a kid:
There once was a man from Nantucket,
Who kept all his dreams in a bucket.
But then came a dame,
He'd heard not her name,
Who smiled and said, “Sir, let’s up-chuck it.”
She danced in the night with a wink,
With moves that would make your heart sink.
Hearsky's dear mother,
Could suck like no other,
Could charm both a priest and a shrink.
They whispered her tales in the bay,
Of Jazz fanz who’d beg her to stay.
But she'd just grin wide,
With no need to hide—
She lived life her own daring way.
If I tried to write a limerick in here, it would be all ****s and ****.
Trust me, it was difficult not to.
The Guardian did a series a few years ago of actors doing some of the great soliloquies. The best of them, I think, is the one from Julius Caesar, but I will match your Hamlet:
People who don't get Shakespeare have never seen it done well. Maybe they've only read it in English, or watched high school performances. But real actors can take it to a new level.
View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=muLAzfQDS3M
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