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Discussione: Short poems

          
  1. #1
    Administrator L'avatar di DarkCoffee
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    Short poems

    Did We abolish Frost
    The Summer would not cease
    If Seasons perish or prevail
    Is optional with Us

    (Emily Dickinson)
    The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again: but already it was impossible to say which was which.

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    Moderator L'avatar di Rupert
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    Fairy Tale

    Now folds the Tree of Day its perfect flowers,
    And every bloom becomes a bud again,
    Shut and sealed up against the golden showers
    Of bees that hover in the velvet hours. …
    Now a strain
    Wild and mournful blown from shadow towers,
    Echoed from shadow ships upon the foam,
    Proclaims the Queen of Night.
    From their bowers
    The dark Princesses fluttering, wing their flight
    To their old Mother, in her huge old home.

    Katheriene Mansfield, from: Poems (1923).

    "non vitae sed scholae discimus" (Seneca, Epistulae morales ad Lucilium, 106, 12)

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  5. #3
    Grandi speranze L'avatar di Estella
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    Mad girl's love song (Sylvia Plath)

    I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
    I lift my lids and all is born again.
    (I think I made you up inside my head.)

    The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
    And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
    I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

    I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
    And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
    (I think I made you up inside my head.)

    God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
    Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
    I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

    I fancied you'd return the way you said,
    But I grow old and I forget your name.
    (I think I made you up inside my head.)

    I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
    At least when spring comes they roar back again.
    I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
    (I think I made you up inside my head.)
    La nostalgia mi ruba i colori della vita. (Cristina Campo)


  6. #4
    Grandi speranze L'avatar di Estella
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    Poppies in october (Sylvia Plath)

    Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts.
    Nor the woman in the ambulance
    Whose red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly.

    A gift, a love gift
    Utterly unasked for
    By a sky

    Palely and flamily
    Igniting its carbon monoxides, by eyes
    Dulled to a halt under bowlers.

    O my God, what am I
    That these late mouths should cry open
    In a forest of frost, in a dawn of cornflowers.
    La nostalgia mi ruba i colori della vita. (Cristina Campo)


  7. #5
    Grandi speranze L'avatar di Estella
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    Poppies in july (Sylvia Plath)

    Little poppies, little hell flames,
    Do you do no harm?

    You flicker. I cannot touch you.
    I put my hands among the flames. Nothing burns

    And it exhausts me to watch you
    Flickering like that, wrinkly and clear red, like the skin of a mouth.

    A mouth just bloodied.
    Little bloody skirts!

    There are fumes I cannot touch.
    Where are your opiates, your nauseous capsules?

    If I could bleed, or sleep!
    If my mouth could marry a hurt like that!

    Or your liquors seep to me, in this glass capsule,
    Dulling and stilling.

    But colorless. Colorless.
    La nostalgia mi ruba i colori della vita. (Cristina Campo)


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