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  #1  
Unread 10-08-2009, 08:36 AM
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Default National Poetry Day in the United Kingdom

National Poetry Day in the United Kingdom

October 8th 2009


Does anyone have a poem for today to celebrate this special day.
It can be one you wrote or just one you like. It doesnt have to be all of it .

Please put the title and who wrote it.


My choice;-


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone



W. H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
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Last edited by Saber; 10-08-2009 at 08:48 AM.
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  #2  
Unread 10-08-2009, 09:30 AM
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Default Re: National Poetry Day in the United Kingdom

Really nice poem u got there Saber.

btw ,Never heard of national poetry day though.....
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  #3  
Unread 10-08-2009, 09:36 AM
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Default Re: National Poetry Day in the United Kingdom

.:The Highwayman:.

Written by Alfred Noyes. My favourite poem... it's so beautiful. This isn't all of it, just a part near the end. You guys should check it out. I love it so much!

He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.

~And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
Riding—riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard;
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.~
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  #4  
Unread 10-08-2009, 09:51 AM
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Default Re: National Poetry Day in the United Kingdom

this one is good.

Author:masteroffear


Hear our voices calling to you in the darkness…

Feeling so hopeless, disappointed and trying to fight our sadness..

Can you hear us calling for you ?

Or you're ignoring us like the rest of them do ?!

I've had enough from your lies ..

Since when ,to live , my soul , I must sacrifice ?

And how am I going to carry on this fight …?

If am living all alone and petrified…

This feeling can't be right …

So please help me through this sad night …

My sorrows are weaken my soul …

Kicking and screaming ,out of control …

And there's no one there to show me the road …

Where sad souls meet …and waiting for an angel to fall…

No hope of salvation at all…

And am still wondering how can I carry on ?

A poor lost soul… is swallowed up whole

Consumed in the flames... they are souls without faith ..!

Consumed by guilt and shame… there is no one else to blame..

But destiny itself …where it left us in the burning wind ..

Fighting our demons and fears …

For salvation we waited for years …
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  #5  
Unread 10-08-2009, 11:44 AM
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Default Re: National Poetry Day in the United Kingdom

Thanks to saber i found my self here,
where poems are for all to hear,
It's been a year but nout to fear,
As national poem day is finally here!

lol sorry a very poor attempt.
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  #6  
Unread 10-08-2009, 12:34 PM
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Default Re: National Poetry Day in the United Kingdom

wow this is a neat holiday!!!!! I will put one written by my favorite poet Robert Frost
Some say the world will end in fire ,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
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Unread 10-08-2009, 04:47 PM
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Default Re: National Poetry Day in the United Kingdom

i dont have a poem, but HAPPY POETRY DAY!!
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Unread 10-08-2009, 05:46 PM
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Default Re: National Poetry Day in the United Kingdom

Well we have some wonderful examples. Any other people can find a poem by any person that they like to go in the thread. You can have more than one go.

Robert Frost - Birches
When I see birches bend to left and right
Across the lines of straighter darker trees,
I like to think some boy's been swinging them.
But swinging doesn't bend them down to stay.
Ice-storms do that. Often you must have seen them
Loaded with ice a sunny winter morning
After a rain. They click upon themselves
As the breeze rises, and turn many-coloured
As the stir cracks and crazes their enamel.
Soon the sun's warmth makes them shed crystal shells
Shattering and avalanching on the snow-crust
Such heaps of broken glass to sweep away
You'd think the inner dome of heaven had fallen.
They are dragged to the withered bracken by the load,
And they seem not to break; though once they are bowed
So low for long, they never right themselves:
You may see their trunks arching in the woods
Years afterwards, trailing their leaves on the ground,
Like girls on hands and knees that throw their hair
Before them over their heads to dry in the sun.
But I was going to say when Truth broke in
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm,
I should prefer to have some boy bend them
As he went out and in to fetch the cows--
Some boy too far from town to learn baseball,
Whose only play was what he found himself,
Summer or winter, and could play alone.
One by one he subdued his father's trees
By riding them down over and over again
Until he took the stiffness out of them,
And not one but hung limp, not one was left
For him to conquer. He learned all there was
To learn about not launching out too soon
And so not carrying the tree away
Clear to the ground. He always kept his poise
To the top branches, climbing carefully
With the same pains you use to fill a cup
Up to the brim, and even above the brim.
Then he flung outward, feet first, with a swish,
Kicking his way down through the air to the ground.
So was I once myself a swinger of birches.
And so I dream of going back to be.
It's when I'm weary of considerations,
And life is too much like a pathless wood
Where your face burns and tickles with the cobwebs
Broken across it, and one eye is weeping
From a twig's having lashed across it open.
I'd like to get away from earth awhile
And then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate wilfully misunderstand me
And half grant what I wish and snatch me away
Not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree~
And climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
Toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
But dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.
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Unread 10-08-2009, 05:57 PM
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Default Re: National Poetry Day in the United Kingdom

In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace-
Radiant palace- reared its head.
In the monarch Thought's dominion-
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair!
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow,
(This- all this- was in the olden
Time long ago,)
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A winged odor went away.

Wanderers in that happy valley,
Through two luminous windows, saw
Spirits moving musically,
To a lute's well-tuned law,
Round about a throne where, sitting
(Porphyrogene!)
In state his glory well-befitting,
The ruler of the realm was seen.

And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,
And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
Was but to sing,
In voices of surpassing beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their king.

But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch's high estate.
(Ah, let us mourn!- for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him desolate!)
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

And travellers, now, within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms, that move fantastically
To a discordant melody,
While, like a ghastly rapid river,
Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever
And laugh- but smile no more.
-Edgar Allen Poe-

he was a man that was in a relationship that would not be torn apart except by death itself, and when his lover died, it felt as though his very soul was ripped out of him......he used those feelings to create very dark and emotional writings that still are seen as masterpieces today.......no one loved that woman as he did and he died as a depressed writer who never once looked upon anyone else but his wife....his writings almost make you feel his emotions and it is a mixture of anger, love, and depression....that is why i love his work.
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Unread 10-08-2009, 06:12 PM
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Default Re: National Poetry Day in the United Kingdom

ROBERT LOPEZ

Somewhere Other Than Florida

Even before I begin I should start over
Start with a horse, say, or a toothbrush
Something that takes up space on the earth
Something that would make a noise if you dropped
It on the floor
Or if it
Dropped by itself
It shouldn’t matter if it is alive or not
If it is a living thing
I have often mistaken a woman for an armoire
A dog for a pitchfork
A glass of beer for a butterfly
The cricket chirps through the night the same as
A lawn mower cuts grass
There is no real difference
Nor any reason they can’t trade jobs tomorrow
The cricket and the lawn mower are both ready
For the change, believe me
There is no proof it hasn’t all been a grand mistake
Ours to fix
I propose we reconsider all objects
The old woman on the train
Reading a magazine
A Japanese beetle crawling across the kitchen floor
An antique desk
On the sidewalk outside a laundromat
Try to remember something you have no business remembering
Something you’ve never tried to remember
The crème brûlée at that restaurant downtown
The turbulence on the flight to Florida when you were fourteen
How the passengers whooped and hollered like they were on
A roller coaster going fast, going too fast, going
Somewhere other than Florida.

ANYONE ELSE GOT ANOTHER FAVOURITE?
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Last edited by Saber; 10-08-2009 at 06:17 PM.
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