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> Favorite Excerpt/Poem Thread/Discussion, read first post//follow rulez//etc
Michiko
post May 17 2007, 01:24 AM
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Basically just post a poem or segment from some piece of literature (song lyrics are included in this guys!!) you adore and have people discuss it. No need to "wait" until a discussion feels like it is over. Post pieces as much as you want! Don't forget to credit the writers!!

You *can* post your own work if you desire but it might be best to leave that to the Grand Theatre forum.

Alright--I'll start off.

This is just a bit of a song that always is stuck in my head. It is just very beautiful to me.

If you need to leave the world you live in...
lay your head down and stay awhile.
Though you may not remember dreaming..
something waits for you to breathe again.

-Evanescence Imaginary (Origin version) c.1998)

It is simple but at the same time uplifting. I REALLY like to listen to it when I feel like shit. It feels nice to know that you can go off into your own mind but something in reality is always waiting for you.


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(Phoenix)
post May 23 2007, 02:47 PM
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This is also from song lyrics

How can this be the answer?
No crime yet they shot away
He now lies dead
The blood is on your hands
Hands which were supposed to protect
People like the man you blew away
This isn't justice, this is corruption


Not exactly upbeat but it gives out the right message.
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Lonedove
post May 23 2007, 07:34 PM
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A pious man explained to his followers: "It is evil to take lives and noble to save them. Each day I pledge to save a hundred lives. I drop my net in the lake and scoop out a hundred fishes. I place the fishes on the bank, where they flop and twirl. "Don't be scared," I tell those fishes. "I am saving you from drowning." Soon enough, the fishes grow calm and lie still. Yet, sad to say, I am always too late. The fishes expire. And because it is evil to waste anything, I take those dead fishes to market and I sell them for a good price. With the money I receive, I buy more nets so I can save more fishes.

The short story that starts off Amy Tan's saving Fish from Drowning.


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girlsrgamers2
post May 23 2007, 08:20 PM
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The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost (1915)

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

I've always loved this poem. Frost is one of my faves. smile.gif


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steiner
post May 23 2007, 08:29 PM
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^Awesome poem. Brings back memories...My grandfather is massively fond of that poem.

There are two other poems I remember vaguely, but I forgot their names. One was about a Donkey and Jesus, and another was about a traveller in a snowy forest I think. Im not sure who wrote them either.



Two poems I love. I dont particularly like Lewis Carroll's writing, but these poems are excellent:

Jabberwocky

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.
"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.



And:


The Walrus and The Carpenter

The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.


The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"


The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.


The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"


"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.


"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."


The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.


But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.


Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.


The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
Conveniently low:
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.


"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."


"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.


"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."


"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such kindness, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Walrus said.
"Do you admire the view?


"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"


"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"


"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.


"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.



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girlsrgamers2
post May 23 2007, 08:40 PM
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I love those 2 poems.

I had to post another fave poem.

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou

The free bird leaps
on the back of the win
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hillfor the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
an the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.


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steiner
post May 23 2007, 08:49 PM
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^ZOMFG. Thats another one of my favourite poems. laugh.gif We have similar taste.

...damn. I was looking for an awesome poem called 'Waterway Robbery' but its nowhere on the net. sad.gif

Hmmm, after some thinking...another one I like:

Tarantella

Do you remember an Inn,
Miranda?
Do you remember an Inn?
And the tedding and the spreading
Of the straw for a bedding,
And the fleas that tease in the High Pyrenees,
And the wine that tasted of tar?
And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers
(Under the vine of the dark verandah)?
Do you remember an Inn, Miranda,
Do you remember an Inn?
And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteeers
Who hadn't got a penny,
And who weren't paying any,
And the hammer at the doors and the Din?
And the Hip! Hop! Hap!
Of the clap
Of the hands to the twirl and the swirl
Of the girl gone chancing,
Glancing,
Dancing,
Backing and advancing,
Snapping of a clapper to the spin
Out and in --
And the Ting, Tong, Tang, of the Guitar.
Do you remember an Inn,
Miranda?
Do you remember an Inn?

Never more;
Miranda,
Never more.
Only the high peaks hoar:
And Aragon a torrent at the door.
No sound
In the walls of the Halls where falls
The tread
Of the feet of the dead to the ground
No sound:
But the boom
Of the far Waterfall like Doom.


By Hilaire Belloc.


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Lonedove
post Jun 28 2007, 10:59 PM
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"What is real?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."
--
I loved the The Velveteen Rabbit growing up. I don't think I really fully understood it till I got older though.


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Resurrection
post Jun 29 2007, 10:01 PM
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Holy Sonnet 10, by John Donne (1572-1631)

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better then thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

I love this sonnet. It's amazing if you really understand what it's talking about (at least I think it is).

This post has been edited by FFmaster08: Jun 29 2007, 10:01 PM


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*impossible*
post Jul 4 2007, 08:04 AM
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The Rime of the Ancient Mariner

Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink ;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot : O Christ !
That ever this should be !
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night ;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue and white.


how can you beat Coleridge


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Nick
post Jul 4 2007, 11:27 AM
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I vow to thee, my country - Cecil Spring Rice

I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above,
Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love;
The love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,
That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best;
The love that never falters, the love that pays the price,
The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice.

And there's another country, I've heard of long ago,
Most dear to them that love her, most great to them that know;
We may not count her armies, we may not see her King;
Her fortress is a faithful heart, her pride is suffering;
And soul by soul and silently her shining bounds increase,
And her ways are ways of gentleness, and all her paths are peace.


Took me until i was around 12 and saw it written down instead of heard it sung to realise what the other country was (i.e. heaven.)


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Resurrection
post Jul 4 2007, 04:22 PM
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QUOTE(*impossible* @ Jul 4 2007, 04:04 AM) *

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner

Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink ;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot : O Christ !
That ever this should be !
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night ;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue and white.


how can you beat Coleridge

Why not post the whole poem? J/k, that would be really long.


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LIES PROTRUDE FROM THE MOUTH OF MAN, BUT EVERY WORD THAT COMES FROM THE MOUTH OF GOD IS LIFE.
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girlsrgamers2
post Jul 6 2007, 01:32 AM
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Since I am a total night-owl, I've always loved this Robert Frost poem:

Acquainted With the Night by Robert Frost

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain --and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.




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Turquoise Reed
post Jul 7 2007, 10:30 AM
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A favourite stanza of mine from an unnamed Edgar Allen Poe piece biggrin.gif

Thy heart - thy heart - I wake and sigh
And sleep to dream till day
Of the truth that gold can never buy
of the baubles that it may


I dunno. It just stuck with me one day and I never forgot it.


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aorin
post Aug 9 2007, 04:33 PM
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My favourite poem would be Shui Diao Ge Tou (水調歌頭)/Dan Yuan Ren Chang Jiu (但願人長久) by Su Shi (蘇軾); a chinese poet from the Song dynasty. Otherwise, Dan Yuan Ren Chang Jiu (但願人長久) can be directly translated to Wishing We Last Forever. And of course the fact that this poem had been popularized into a song which was covered by three famous chinese singers - Faye Wong (yes, the same lady that sings Eyes On Me in FFVIII) Teresa Teng, and Jacky Cheung - does add to the love for this poem. wink.gif

明月幾時有?
把酒問青天。
不知天上宮闕,
今夕是何年?

我欲乘風歸去,
唯恐瓊樓玉宇,
高處不勝寒。
起舞弄清影,
何似在人間!

轉朱閣,
低綺戶,
照無眠。
不應有恨,
何事長向別時圓?

人有悲歡離合,
月有陰晴圓缺,
此事古難全。
但願人長久,
千里共嬋娟。

English Translation

Bright moon, when did you appear?
Lifting my wine, I question the dark night sky.
Tonight in the palaces and halls of heaven
what year is it, I wonder?

I would like to ride the wind, make my home there,
Only I hide in a jade room of a beautiful mansion,
As I could not bear the cold of high altitudes.
So I rise and dance and play in your pure beams,
this human world — how can it compare with yours?

Circling red chambers,
low in the curtained door,
you shine on the sleepless.
Surely you bear us no ill will —
why then must you be complete at times when we humans are parted!

People have their griefs and joys, their togetherness and separation,
The moon has its dark and clear times, its waxings and wanings.
Situations are never ideal since long ago.
I only hope we two may have long long lives,
So that we may share the moon's beauty even though we are a thousand miles apart.


This post has been edited by aorin: Aug 9 2007, 04:37 PM


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EarthTyrant0157
post Sep 22 2007, 04:08 PM
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Im not the one for this poetry stuff but maybe you will like the one i did...
Its a poem about when my first Gf cheated on me and how i longed for her back ...
Im not very good but anywhos here goes...



Afresh and new a heart shall arise
Open and free the first love will be naught but true
First love opens your eyes to fiction
Were thou shall be swept off to a world of dreams a world renew




This fealing were it to last forever be bliss
A shame these can never last at least not like this
A bond strong magical it may seem in your eyes and theres
Holding to the bond spinning throughtout time happiness fills thy heart
Love lets go , a stranger thou come and divide the bond...
Your love taken by the stranger ... happiness leaves you .. a hole inside you thou fall apart.



Sleepless nights awake on end ur dream world shall become nightmare
The stranger who mocks you when your eyes close and you rest
Beyond the strange eyes you see your love trapped in an endless void
A helpless fealing fear .. for never holding that bond close to you .. makes your heart still to arrest.


Dying inside you push on hoping ..dreaming.. believing...
Hating the one who destroyed what you hold dear
Have you made a wrong? were you not right?
No my friend the love is still there you just have to find it within the light..


The evil that sturd before is now weak .. hope shines bright and destroys the shadow
He fear that entrapped your heart ..vanished ..gone to nought
As one falls back into thy arms warmth spreads through my fingers this stranger is just a mere thought




Our eyes shimmer brightly tears off joy
Our hearts rest together her beauty alight over my face
My dream .. the hole they combine and fill the void ...
I chose the words From my new formed heart I mumble them whilst my heart begins to race



Me and her mutter floating in our fiction "i love you" these words drift
Our pain our worries as our love begins again to arise shall soon lift



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Dark Yuna
post Sep 23 2007, 11:16 AM
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I quite like Sonnet 130 by William Shakespeare. I love how he used the structure of a sonnet, but changed the imagery within it, as most sonnets portray women as goddess', whereas this sonnet shows that they are down-to-earth, and human.

SONNET 130
My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare


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Resurrection
post Sep 23 2007, 07:04 PM
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We read that in my British Literature class, it was like one of my teacher's favorite poems. It's a great love poem. It presents love as it truly is.


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LIES PROTRUDE FROM THE MOUTH OF MAN, BUT EVERY WORD THAT COMES FROM THE MOUTH OF GOD IS LIFE.
I AM A LIAR
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