I Taught Myself To Live Simply by Anna Akhmatova

I taught myself to live simply and wisely,
to look at the sky and pray to God,
and to wander long before evening
to tire my superfluous worries.
When the burdocks rustle in the ravine
and the yellow-red rowanberry cluster droops
I compose happy verses
about life's decay, decay and beauty.
I come back. The fluffy cat
licks my palm, purrs so sweetly
and the fire flares bright
on the saw-mill turret by the lake.
Only the cry of a stork landing on the roof
occasionally breaks the silence.
If you knock on my door
I may not even hear.

by Anna Akhmatova

Sorry for the quick post guise!! Good to see yall tho ^_^ 


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Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night by Dylan Thomas

 Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

by Dylan Thomas
 

Dylan Thomas

1. The Collected Poems of Dylan Thomas: The Original Edition
2. The Poems of Dylan Thomas, New Revised Edition [with CD]
3. The Collected Stories (New Directions Paperbook)
4. Selected Poems 1934-1952, New Revised Edition
5. Dylan Thomas: The Caedmon Collection

futz

\ FUHTS \  , verb;

1.

To pass time in idleness (usually followed by around).

noun:

1.

A fool; a simpleton.

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Still I Rise by Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I'll rise.



Does my sassiness upset you?

Why are you beset with gloom?

'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells

Pumping in my living room.



Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Still I'll rise.



Did you want to see me broken?

Bowed head and lowered eyes?

Shoulders falling down like teardrops.

Weakened by my soulful cries.



Does my haughtiness offend you?

Don't you take it awful hard

'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines

Diggin' in my own back yard.



You may shoot me with your words,

You may cut me with your eyes,

You may kill me with your hatefulness,

But still, like air, I'll rise.



Does my sexiness upset you?

Does it come as a surprise

That I dance like I've got diamonds

At the meeting of my thighs?



Out of the huts of history's shame

I rise

Up from a past that's rooted in pain

I rise

I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,

Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear

I rise

Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear

I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,

I am the dream and the hope of the slave.

I rise

I rise

I rise.

by Maya Angelou

Still I Rise
like a high rise
every time thy lies
demise my nine lives

Poetry Review:
To all those females in the world looking for that ultimate, "yea im still doing good" poem, this is it. Even tho im not sure if my ancestors were slaves, it doesnt matter. We could leave that line out and the poem still be that "YEA IM STILL AWESOME". I love the simplicity of the message she is casting out.

Word of the day:

abstemious

\ ab-STEE-mee-uhs \  , adjective;

1.

Sparing in eating and drinking; temperate; abstinent.

2.

Sparingly used or consumed; used with temperance or moderation.

3.

Marked by or spent in abstinence.

 

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Messy Room by Shel Silverstein

Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater's been thrown on the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
Donald or Robert or Willie or--
Huh? You say it's mine? Oh, dear,
I knew it looked familiar!

by Shel Silverstein

Review:
This sounds alot like my room at the moment. ^_^

Not my room, but similar!! ^_^

Word of the day:

bivouac

\ BIV-wak, BIV-uh-wak \  , noun;

1.

An encampment for the night, usually under little or no shelter.

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Life Is Fine by Langston Hughes

I went down to the river,
I set down on the bank.
I tried to think but couldn't,
So I jumped in and sank.

I came up once and hollered!
I came up twice and cried!
If that water hadn't a-been so cold
I might've sunk and died.

But it was Cold in that water! It was cold!

I took the elevator
Sixteen floors above the ground.
I thought about my baby
And thought I would jump down.

I stood there and I hollered!
I stood there and I cried!
If it hadn't a-been so high
I might've jumped and died.

But it was High up there! It was high!

So since I'm still here livin',
I guess I will live on.
I could've died for love--
But for livin' I was born

Though you may hear me holler,
And you may see me cry--
I'll be dogged, sweet baby,
If you gonna see me die.

Life is fine! Fine as wine! Life is fine!

by Langston Hughes

Review:
I have been here a few times.. The pain of a lost love is ever so consuming, almost consuming enough to be an-Hero. Like Langston Hughes said, life is fine, fine as fine wine, so why not just drink the day away until the pain fades. Become an epicureanist. EAT DRINK BE MERRY!!! Because Space will partially mend wounds eventually. We will all die eventually, so why let love kill us, even though love is more internally devastating then air strikes in Libya. Tho im not sure if Gaddafi feels the same way ^_^.

We - Die - For - Love

More Poetry by Langston Huges:

1. The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes
2. The Ways of White Folks: Stories
3. The Mule-Bone: A Comedy of Negro Life in Three Acts
4. Not Without Laughter (Thrift Edition)
5. Poetry for Young People: Langston Hughes

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There is another sky by Emily Dickinson

There is another sky,
Ever serene and fair,
And there is another sunshine,
Though it be darkness there;
Never mind faded forests, Austin,
Never mind silent fields -
Here is a little forest,
Whose leaf is ever green;
Here is a brighter garden,
Where not a frost has been;
In its unfading flowers
I hear the bright bee hum:
Prithee, my brother,
Into my garden come!

by Emily Dickinson

Review:
I read this a few times, and every time i read this poem, the poem seems creepier and creepier. Come into my garden brother?!

Word of the day:

equivocate

  \ ih-KWIV-uh-kayt \  , intransitive verb;

1.

To be deliberately ambiguous or unclear in order to mislead or to avoid committing oneself to anythingdefinite.

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Houdini by Kay Ryan

Each escape

involved some art,

some hokum, and

at least a brief

incomprehensible

exchange between

the man and metal

during which the

chains were not

so much broken

as he and they

blended. At the

end of each such

mix he had to

extract himself. It

Was the hardest

part to get right

routinely: breaking

back into the

same Houdini.


by Kay Ryan

Harry Houdini Showing tits

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