Alternachicks - Poetry Corner

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09-23-2002, 11:27 AM
Ok I liked Terri's idea of sharing our favorite poetry. So I thought maybe a new thread would be the place to put it. Here are my favorites:

When we Two parted

WHEN we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss;
Truly that hour foretold
Sorrow to this.

The dew of the morning
Sunk chill on my brow-
It felt like the warning
Of what I feel now.
Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame.

They name thee before me,
A knell to mine ear;
A shudder comes o'er me-
Why wert thou so dear?
They know not I knew thee,
Who knew thee too well:-
Long, long shall I rue thee,
Too deeply to tell.

In secret we met-
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?-
With silence and tears.

~Lord Byron

Here is another one: (but not by Lord Byron)


I feel it is a testament to the complexities of the emotions I am faced with.
It brings together at one moment my greatest fears and strongest ambitions.
I know how the story will end, but the experience is how the story is told.
A chance to let those we trust decide our fates, but refusing the insults of others.
This is the time of inner reflection and outward understanding.
It is every thing cliché and everything beautiful.
By it I confess my unending love.
All things are simple
And complex
But this: is
Only true
Because Our Understanding Never Developed

09-23-2002, 11:59 AM
oh Squeak!

Thanks so much! Thanks for sharing yours, who wrote the second one?

I have lots - but I'll start with this one by W.B. Yeats - it is one of my very favorites

When You are Old

WHEN you are old and gray and full of sleep
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead,
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

09-23-2002, 02:23 PM
Yeats is great. (It is also my fishy's name)

The second one is by no one famous, just something I came across that I really liked.

09-25-2002, 12:12 PM
I love what you both have posted! I just may have to look more into Lord Byron...

This is something that I heard quoted by Dr. Wayne Dyer. It's by Soren Kirkerguard, a Danish theologian and after I reread it a few times and really let it sink in, it made so much sense to me that I wrote it down in my personal journal...

To see the world in a grain of sand,
and a heaven in a wildflower,
to hold eternity in the palm of your hand,
and infinity in an hour,
we're lead to believe a lie,
when we see with, not through, the eye,
which was born in a night,
to perish in a night,
when the soul slept in beams of light.

09-26-2002, 01:13 AM
Two Roads Diverged in a Yellow Wood

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 taking 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.

Yes, both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trampled 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.

~ Robert Frost

09-26-2002, 08:53 AM
Ahhh...that's grand...Thanks, Amarantha! And to all of you...this is a great thread!

09-26-2002, 09:15 AM
...more Robert Frost...

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

09-26-2002, 12:39 PM
Squeak, you're too modest. Don't want to embarrass you but, that is really beautiful...take credit you shy girl.
Thanks for this thread. It's so wonderful. I'll be back.

09-26-2002, 02:48 PM
*climbs out from under the massive amount of papers and stuff on her desk*

Thanks Soozie, but I really didn't write it. It isn't someone famous either. But I did have it read to me once in a cuddly-type setting, and that is the best feeling. :)

09-26-2002, 04:22 PM
"Leaning into the Afternoons"
By Pablo Neruda

Leaning into the afternoons I cast my sad nets
towards your oceanic eyes.

There in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames,
its arms turning like a drowning man's.

I send out red signals across your absent eyes
that move like the sea near a lighthouse.

You keep only darkness, my distant female,
from your regard sometimes the coast of dread emerges.

Leaning into the afternoons I fling my sad nets
to that sea that beats on your marine eyes.

The birds of night peck at the first stars
that flash like my soul when I love you.

The night gallops on its shadowy mare
shedding blue tassels over the land.

09-27-2002, 03:29 AM
I don't know who wrote this but if you do let me know. I really liked it, saw it posted on a friend's bulletin board, he didn't know where he had found it.

The New Story of Your Life

Say you have finally invented a new story of your life.
It is not the story of your defeat or of your impotence and
powerlessness before the large forces of wind and accident.
It is not the sad story of your mother's death or of your abandoned childhood.
It is not, even,
a story that will win you the deep initial sympathies of the
benevolent goddesses or the care of the generous,
but it is a story that requires of you a large thrust into the
difficult life, a sense of plenitude entirely your own.
Whatever the story is, it goes as it goes, and there are
vicissitudes in it, gardens that need to be planted, skills sown,
the long hard labors of prose and enduring love.
Deep down in some long-encumbered self,
it is the story you have been writing all of your life,
where no Calypso holds you against your own willfulness,
where there are no longer dark caves for you to be
imprisoned in, where you can rise from the bleak island of
your old story and tread your way home.

09-28-2002, 10:12 PM
I LOVE reading all the poems you chickies have posted. Some stuff I have read, but a lot I haven't.

I am not sure who that one is by Soozie, but I like it alot. If you find out let me know. :)

Here are a few more:


The myth is neither here nor there,
from the air.
Just blue lake stains
on green and purified, parcelled squares;
a crazy quilt of spearmint,
of mustard and honey tones;
a scuffed-up kitchen floor of tiles
on top of bones
with a big trap door.
Towns down diagonal lines disappear
and drop out of sight
into the night beyond the national night,
and underneath the grit and glare
into the unfettered nothingness and thin air,
as herds of clouds lazily graze
on thermal sighs of delight.
The Starpainters are taking over now,
their scaffolding is in its place.
Your anaesthesiologist tonight
is washing up and on her way.

~Gord Downie

It was 85 Degrees Today

Silhouette of golden trees
And spinning fans in the twilight
This impetuous spring day
Ends like a hot fall night

Gold leaves on midnight blue
Stand motionless in the gentle wind
A calm center and peace
Before tomorrow's storm
Grown on budding blossoms

Two fans pour into the night
Spinning illusively slow in the shadows
Like misplaced pinwheels
Fighting soflty to go so separate ways
Yet pulled together by their stubborn churn

I am the placid wind in whole-full peace with such a view

~my boy (who also wrote Teastament in the post at the top)

I am love what he writes, but I am a bit biased. I ama tad (ok a lot) overprotective because I did't know if anyone else would like the poems....

09-29-2002, 11:09 AM
Soozie - When I read that poem, it instantly brought to mind a friend of mine who's having trouble dealing with the past. I think maybe I will send it to her.....I wonder who wrote it.

Squeak - I really like your boy's style and imagery. I've always thought of poetry as art, like painting a picture - with words instead of paint.

Here's one I loved as a child. It reminds me of sitting on the windowsill of my grandparents' spare bedroom on the top floor of their old house. They had a farm in upstate NY and I would sometimes get up at night to look outside as the moon shone on the night time world.

Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver, sleeps the dog;
From their shadowy cote the white breast peep
Of doves in silver-feathered sleep;
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws and a silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.

-- Walter de la Mare

09-29-2002, 11:16 AM
Ohhh, Terri...I LOVE that poem...I haven't heard that in a long time...thanks for the memory!

09-29-2002, 11:54 AM
Squeak, thank you for starting this thread. I'm loving everything that all of you girls are sharing.
This is one of my favorites... I don't know if you know Stanley Kunitz... he's American... a darling man around 90 years of age.

Touch Me
by Stanley Kunitz

Summer is late, my heart.
Words plucked out of the air
some forty years ago
when I was wild with love
and torn almost in two
scatter like leaves this night
of whistling wind and rain.
It is my heart that's late,
it is my song that's flown.
Outdoors all afternoon
under a gunmetal sky
staking my garden down,
I kneeled to the crickets trilling
underfoot as if about
to burst from their crusty shells;
and like a child again
marveled to hear so clear
and brave a music pour
from such a small machine.
What makes the engine go?
Desire, desire, desire.
The longing for the dance
stirs in the buried life.
One season only,
and it's done.
So let the battered old willow
thrash against the windowpanes
and the house timbers creak.
Darling, do you remember
the man you married? Touch me,
remind me who I am.

09-29-2002, 02:53 PM
Ellis.......that poem is perfect for a late September Sunday afternoon. The ending is a sweet surprise.

I think we're creating a special thing here, it reminds me of an online, female version of the "Dead Poet's Society" - if you recall the movie - where a group of like-minded young men secretly convene to share favorite readings and poems - Robin Williams (in one of his best ever performances in my opinion) plays their teacher, inspiring them to capture the extraordinary in life and march to the beat of their own drums.

kat - I see we share the same taste in Frost and this long lost one that suddenly came back to me today :)

Another.......Song of Myself, Stanza 22 by Walt Whitman

You sea! I resign myself to you also -- I guess what
you mean,

I behold from the beach your crooked inviting fingers,

I believe you refuse to go back without feeling of me,

We must have a turn together, I undress, hurry me out of sight of the land,

Cushion me soft, rock me in billowy drowse,

Dash me with amorous wet, I can repay you.

09-29-2002, 05:02 PM
I LOVE the Dead Poet's society! That's us! Well, maybe just the "Poet's Society," I don't think ALL of our poets are dead. (Mine are!)

Anyway...this is one of my favorite poems, since 7th grade, when we learned about onomatpoeia. (I'm so impressed with myself for remembering how to spell that...I had to look it up!)

The Bells
~Edgar Allen Poe

Hear the sledges with the bells -
Silver bells!
What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells -
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

Hear the mellow wedding bells -
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight! -
From the molten - golden notes,
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle - dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future! - how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells -
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells -
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!

Hear the loud alarum bells -
Brazen bells!
What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
In the startled ear of night
How they scream out their affright!
Too much horrified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor
Now - now to sit, or never,
By the side of the pale - faced moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells
Of Despair!
How they clang, and clash and roar!
What a horror they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Yet the ear, it fully knows,
By the twanging,
And the clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows;
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells -
Of the bells -
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells -
In the clamor and the clanging of the bells!

Hear the tolling of the bells -
Iron bells!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the silence of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the people - ah, the people -
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All alone,
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone -
They are neither man nor woman -
They are neither brute nor human -
They are Ghouls: -
And their king it is who tolls: -
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
A paean from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the paean of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the paean of the bells: -
Of the bells:
Keeping time, time, time
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells -
Of the bells, bells, bells: -
To the sobbing of the bells: -
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells -
Of the bells, bells, bells -
To the tolling of the bells -
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells, -
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.

09-29-2002, 06:52 PM
DPS is one of my favorite movies! :)

But no, not all of ours are dead. :lol:

And Poe is one of my favs, esp. The Raven

09-29-2002, 08:27 PM

we'll need to come up with a name...... the very-much-alive-alternachicks-poetic-appreciation-society or something like that:lol:

I am bowled over at finding all you kindred spirits:D

I remember The Bells now too... but for some reason, I think our music teacher introduced it to us - maybe because it is a good example of rythym and measure?? :shrug:

I remember a cool Poe short story about a heart beating beneath the floor boards? (anyone remember that one - or the name of it?)

When is Poe's birthday? January something.......thinking about the annual ritual based on the Raven.

hugs, terrigrrrl

09-29-2002, 08:35 PM
The Tell-Tale Heart
Here's a link for those who want to re-read it...

09-29-2002, 09:51 PM
Poe was born on Jan. 19th 1809. He is definately dead.

Now to think of a name. hmm...........

Here are a few more from a dead poet.

Sonnets from the Portuguese


I thank all who have loved me in their hearts,
With thanks and love from mine. Deep thanks to all
Who paused a little near the prison-wall
To hear my music in its louder parts
Ere they went onward, each one to the mart's
Or temple's occupation, beyond call.
But thou, who, in my voice's sink and fall
When the sob took it, thy divinest Art's
Own instrument didst drop down at thy foot
To hearken what I said between my tears, . . .
Instruct me how to thank thee ! Oh, to shoot
My soul's full meaning into future years,
That they should lend it utterance, and salute
Love that endures, from Life that disappears !


If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only. Do not say
'I love her for her smile--her look--her way
Of speaking gently,--for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day'--
For these things in themselves, Beloved, may
Be changed, or change for thee,--and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry,--
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby !
But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity.

~Elizabeth Barrett Browning

09-29-2002, 10:49 PM
I do like...

Prospero's speech, by Will

Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have's mine own,
Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,
I must be here confined by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got
And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island by your spell;
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands:
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
Let your indulgence set me free.

09-30-2002, 07:42 PM
If we are doing the Dead Poets Society thing can I have Todd (Ethan Hawke)? ;)

09-30-2002, 09:45 PM
You can have whoever you like, hon. :D

10-01-2002, 08:46 AM
Excuse me, are we "DOING" the Dead Poet's Society? In that case, I'll take Mr Keating...gotta love a man who can make you laugh!

10-01-2002, 08:59 AM
Okay Kat... you can have Keating. Now who do I want?
We need a more original name, though...

10-01-2002, 06:14 PM
Sorry Kat, my mind lives in the gutter a good portion of the time. :)

hehe, Who do you want Ellis??

We do need a better name.... hmm........

10-01-2002, 06:54 PM
Okay. I'll be Jelaluddin Rumi.

There is a community of the spirit.
Join it, and feel the delight
of walking in the noisy street
and being the noise.
Drink all your passion,
and be a disgrace.
Close both eyes
to see with the other eye.


The drum of the realization of the promise is beating,
we are sweeping the road to the sky. Your joy is here today, what remains for tomorrow?
The armies of the day have chased the army of the night,
Heaven and earth are filled with purity and light.
Oh! joy for he who has escaped from this world of perfumes and color!
For beyond these colors and these perfumes, these are other colors in the heart and the soul.
Oh! joy for this soul and this heart who have escaped
the earth of water and clay,
Although this water and this clay contain the hearth of the
philosophical stone.

10-01-2002, 08:59 PM
Gosh, we're all just so FREAKIN' intellectual, ain't we?

10-01-2002, 09:00 PM
BTW...beautiful words, ellis...

10-02-2002, 12:53 AM

10-02-2002, 05:48 PM
"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for..........." - John Keating

terri :)

10-02-2002, 06:45 PM
very nice indeed...

10-02-2002, 07:07 PM
I love that quote - and the rest of it :
To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless--of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life? Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse." That the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be?

My other favorite quote from Walt Whitman in DPS -

I went into the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life ... to put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.

10-02-2002, 07:52 PM
beautiful, squeak...

10-02-2002, 10:04 PM
Terrigrrrl and Squeaker, those were great quotes. Makes on really think about life.

10-04-2002, 02:02 PM
From Montauk Point
~Walt Whitman

I stand as on some mighty eagle's beak,
Eastward the sea, absorbing, viewing, (nothing but sea and sky.)
The tossing waves, the foam, the ships in the distance,
The wild unrest, the snowly, curling caps--
that inbound urge and urge of waves,
Seeking the shores forever.

10-06-2002, 10:34 AM
From Letter on the Road by Pablo Neruda

Your love also helps me:
it is a closed flower
that constantly fills me with its aroma
and that opens suddenly
within me like a great star.

My love, it is night.

The black water, the sleeping
world surround me.
Soon dawn will come,
and meanwhile I write you
to tell you: " I love you."
To tell you " I love you," care for,
clean, lift up,
our love, my darling.
I leave it with you as if I left
a handful of earth with seeds.
From our love lives will be born.
In our love they will drink water.
Perhaps a day will come
when a man and a woman, like
will touch this love and it will still have the strength
to burn the hands that touch it.
Who were we? What does it matter?
They will touch this fire and the fire,
my sweet, will say your simple name
and mine, the name
that only you knew, because you alone
upon earth know
who I am, and because nobody knew me like one,
like just one hand of yours,
because nobody
knew how or when
my heart was burning:
only your great dark eyes knew,
your wide mouth,
your skin,
your insides,
and your soul that I awoke
so that it would go on
singing until the end of life.

10-06-2002, 11:31 AM stuff!

10-06-2002, 11:48 AM
Terrigrrl, That was beautiful! I really like that poem.

10-06-2002, 12:08 PM
oh I am so glad... that I'm not the only one who finds stuff like this be amazing.......:)

It seems to me that some stuff is just too good to keep to yourself - you have to show it to other people :)

This one is very special to me. I've always been an Alternachick, even before I knew there was a name for it :lol:

and so when it came time to make things legal, I told my hubby I just wanted to elope to Las Vegas. We decided to have very simple vows and each pick a piece of writing to share. I read this to my husband at our wedding, witnessed only by the minister and the photographer - so it was 4 people altogether, including us :lol:

It was 7PM at night on a Tuesday. We were the last ones before they closed up. They do about 20 ceremonies a day there, every day. I considered it a major feat in that most business-like of circumstances, that we were able to bring a tear to the eye of the photographer and believe me, they have seen it all in Las Vegas :lol:

This is a section of a very much longer piece, I can post the whole thing here later, sounds like you might enjoy it!

love, terrigrrrl

10-06-2002, 12:42 PM
Well I am certainly no Poe, or Shakespeare, or any other famous poet of our time, but I wrote this and wanted to share it with you.

Online Friends

We have all met because of our journey
Our common dreams and goals
To become fit and healthy
And to get rid of these nasty "rolls"

I never quite expected
To feel the way I do
The warmth and understanding
I receive from all of you.

At times when I'm feeling down and low
And not sure where to turn
I think of my "online friends"
For it is you who I yearn

Although your faces I have not seen
Or even heard you speak
My heart goes out to all of you
Each and every week

So hears to you my "online friends"
Thank you for your caring
Your openness and kindness
And for all you have been sharing.



10-06-2002, 01:04 PM
OKAY!!! Time to lighten things up a bit!!! I originally wrote this as a Blues song, and DH (who is a poet) came along, tweaked it, and it was published in "Resourceful Woman" (a resource book for women)!! We earned $50 for this one!!!! (and the right to put "Poet" on our tax returns!!!)


My belly was big.
It went way out to there.
So they put it under a machine and then they shaved off all the hair.
Honey, let me tell you about those c-section blues.

Didn't dilate too wide.
So they tried to induce.
Blood pressure went sky high and I thought "what the ****'s the use."
Honey, I've got those high blood pressure c-section blues.

So they gave me a bikini cut
But they cut it too high.
I can't wear a bikini now and I think I'm gonna die.
Honey, I've got those changing body image, high blood pressure
c-section blues.

Now i've got a big scar.
It runs from here to there.
I can't sit up without assistance, so I ain't goin' nowhere.
Honey, I've got those can't sit up, changing body image, high blood
pressure c-section blues.

Then they sewed up the bikini cut.
And they stapled it shut.
As soon as I can move without pain, I plan to kick some butt.
Honey, I've got those mean enough to kick butt, can't sit up, changing
body image, high blood pressure c-section blues.

Yes, you heard me right.
I've got those natural childbirth classes amounted to nothing, mean enough to kick butt, can't sit up, changing body image, high blood pressure, caesarean section blues.


10-06-2002, 01:06 PM
Virginia!!! Thanks! That is great.

By the way, you should see DH perform (no other word for it) "C-section Blues" at poetry readings!!!

10-06-2002, 02:31 PM
Virginia - Your poem is so nice...., you are our resident Alternapoet :)

den - you too! that is way cool girlfriend...... where do you go for poetry readings? do you two read and/ or play music there?

I love the Blues too.... music, poetry with a tune - who are your favorite musicians? One of these days I'll get to Clarksdale, Miss.

love, tg

10-06-2002, 02:54 PM
Den- Love the Blues song/Poem. Sounds like you and hubby make an awesome writing team!

10-06-2002, 07:17 PM
Virginia, that's so sweet... I just about cried! Thank you... may I print it off?

Den, you're killin' me. :lol: Hmmm... that sounds like a VERY familiar experience. Times two.

Thanks to everyone else for sharing... I've got to catch up tomorrow after the gym. Back soon....

10-06-2002, 07:42 PM

10-06-2002, 08:19 PM
Ellis you go right ahead and print it off if you like. I can relate with the C Section Blues too Den, also times two.

10-06-2002, 08:54 PM
Great poem Virginia!

Den- great song-you are a hoot! :lol:

10-06-2002, 09:08 PM
Oh my gosh, Den! We should have know that Virginia was a two-timer, too! Okay, I just want you to know that NEITHER of you could possibly have as ugly a stomach as I do. I've never seen anything like it. It's a "look at me and puke" stomach.

10-07-2002, 01:37 AM
Ellis stop talking about Ellis' stomach that way...and don't scare squeek she hasn't had her babies yet :lol:
Den I love that song even tho I've only had one of those experiences personally...not two...but I could totally relate.
Virginia what a sweet poem...thank you for posting it.
Thanks for all of the beautiful words girls. I'm really enjoying reading them.

10-07-2002, 07:55 AM
I love both of those poems Virgina & Den!!

You girls rock. But now I want to read more from you two, so keep 'em coming....

and I am a looooong way off from having a baby, but soozie is right, stop scaring me. ;)

10-07-2002, 05:20 PM
Hey Den!!!

Me two! You're playin' my song! Nice one...

10-07-2002, 05:27 PM
Okay, is there some sort of relation thing happening here? That's a heck of a lot of c-sections! :lol:

10-07-2002, 05:30 PM
...some sort of cosmic link through our "bikini cuts?"

10-08-2002, 12:10 AM
HI ALL!! Thanks for all your encouraging remarks!!

QUICK POLL: How many of you C-Section Mamas had a staple left in? I did with the second one. Found it when the steri strips finally came off!!!

Ellis-OH YEA? Well, mine is huge (that is where I carry most of my weight) covered with TONS of stretch marks (BIG babies, and with the second, twice the normal amount of amniotic fluid. As DH so sweetly put it 4 two liter bottles of Mountain Dew!!), It sags OVER the incision and is MUCH uglier than YOURS!!!!! In its favor though, it sure has taken a lot of punishment and kept on going!!!! OH!! Also, My belly button blew during the last pregnancy, and I don't see getting it repaired until I lose some weight, so it is sticking out on top of it all!!!

Squeak-Sorry for all the graphic descriptions. My Mom had her second Lamaze style and really had no problem with either delivery. I was just unlucky enough to take after my grandmother!!!!

TG-DH does the readings. Despite my big mouth on-line I freeze up in front of a crowd. He does just readings, but one of his friends performs with a band. He has done readings at local Universities, Coffee Shops, Bookstores Libraries, the elementary school when our kids were there, and he and aforementioned friend even had a show called "The Vision of Words" on Detroit Public Schools radio for 3 years. He just reminded me that he also participated in readings at the Capital Theatre and a restaurant called "The Sandwich Mill" in Windsor. He does C-Section Blues with ATTITUDE. It is very funny. I love listening to the blues, but I don't know a lot about individual artists. I listen to "Blues from the Lowlands" on a Detroit's Public Radio Station, and also listen to whatever CDs are over at my boss' house (her hubby is a blues fanatic AND an incredible harmonica player.) Do like John Lee Hooker though!!! Love hearing Women sing the blues!!!

Katrina, Soozie, Ellis and Virginia-WHAT CAN I SAY? At least all our babies had "beautiful heads" when they were born!!! (Quote from my OB/GYN's colleague!)

10-08-2002, 07:21 AM
Your absolutely right. Both of my children were in or close to the 100% range on the apgar? scale. My daughter(firtst born) weighed 9 lbs 6oz, and my boy weighed 10lbs 3 oz, so yes they too were big babies. No staple left in however! But I do have the big bikini cut-neverwearin-a bikini again- scar, and tons of stretch marks, and my weight too is primarily in that area. Ugly!

10-08-2002, 08:03 AM
Oh gawd... a staple left in. Nope. But for the second one... this dumb nurse comes in to change my dressing. She removes the tape, then when she goes to place tape back over the incision she says, "Whoever takes this off is going to kill me. I can't find the right kind of tape." and proceeds to cover it with this huge strip of elastoplast. I should have killed her on the spot personally. Geepers, the pain when the next nurse removed it!!! I thought it was going to rip the skin off my stomach and rip my incision open!
Okay Den, I'd say we're tied for ugly stomach. Mine sounds exactly like yours. It hangs over my incision. And my bellybutton? It's not out, but it's huge and ugly. I can't ever see it being cute again.
Yes, Den is right, Squeak. Should you ever make the fatal decision to have children, I'm sure you'll be just fine. My mom had two c-sections, so it must just run in the family....? I just keep thinking, "A hundred years ago and we would have all died in childbirth." :rolleyes:
My second was a 9 pounder, but my first was under 6. Beautiful heads is right! :)

Wait a minute... is this the poetry thread? What the heck...

10-08-2002, 02:45 PM
Okay...another OB-GYN story...

My 1st was an emergency section...(see verse 2) She was a big 9 lb 8oz baby.
With my second, the doctor told me, "yeah, this looks like another big baby, we'd better go ahead and schedule the section"......when they took him out and he weighed only 6 lbs 6oz, I said, "oh sh*t, is there another one in there?"

I think he just didn't want to get a call in the middle of the night that week...and now, *sob* I'll never wear a bikini again! not that I did pre-childbirth!

10-08-2002, 03:16 PM
Kat, that's hilarious! :lol: Just what I needed... a laugh. I just had to speak to the ***** of a secretary at my son's school, and now I'm in tears. I've tried to get her moved or fired, but their damned union is just too strong. Shouldn't a school secretary have some social skills?

10-09-2002, 02:18 PM
I know this is a bit morbid, but I really like it.

Dirge Without Music

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.
So it is, and so it will be, for so it has been, time out of mind:
Into the darkness they go, the wise and the lovely. Crowned
With lilies and with laurel they go; but I am not resigned.
Lovers and thinkers, into the earth with you.
Be one with the dull, the indiscriminate dust.
A fragment of what you felt, of what you knew,
A formula, a phrase remains -- but the best is lost.
The answers quick and keen, the honest look, the laughter, the love --
They are gone. They are gone to feed the roses. Elegant and curled
Is the blossom. Fragrant is the blossom. I know. But I do not approve.
More precious was the light in your eyes than all the roses in the world.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave,
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
-- Edna St. Vincent Millay

10-10-2002, 08:38 AM
I like that too!

10-10-2002, 08:57 AM
Ellis-That is a great one.

10-10-2002, 09:00 AM
Thank you dahlings... Den, we want some more of yours! And more from everyone!

10-10-2002, 09:08 AM
Have to FIND 'em first!!!!!

10-10-2002, 09:16 AM
Well, MAKE ONE UP! ;)

10-10-2002, 09:18 AM

10-10-2002, 09:20 AM
GET SOME!!!!! :cb:

10-10-2002, 09:22 AM
That dancing banana is too much for me first thing in the morning......
I go get coffee back soon........

10-10-2002, 09:26 AM
AAHH!!! That is better! (Or starting to be anyway!!!)

10-10-2002, 09:29 AM
Could you pass me a cup?

10-10-2002, 09:32 AM
(Bends line between time and reality and learns to make excellent Latte while doing so....) THERE YOU GO!!!!!

10-10-2002, 09:42 AM
Gee, you're good. That sounds ummm, vaguely familiar....


Since the wise men have not spoken, I speak that am only a fool;
A fool that hath loved his folly,
Yea, more than the wise men their books
or their counting houses, or their quiet homes,
Or their fame in men’s mouths;
A fool that in all his days hath done never a prudent thing,
Never hath counted the cost, nor recked if another reaped
The fruit of his mighty sowing, content to scatter the seed;
A fool that is unrepentant, and that soon at the end of all
Shall laugh in his lonely heart as the ripe ears fall to the reaping hooks
And the poor are filled that were empty,
Tho’ he go hungry.


I have squandered the splendid years
that the Lord God gave to my youth
In attempting impossible thins, deeming them alone worth the toil.
Was it folly or grace? Not men shall judge me, but God.


I have squandered the splendid years:
Lord, if I had the years I would squander them over again,
Aye, fling them from me!
For this I have heard in my heart, that a man shall scatter, not hoard,
Shall do the deed of to-day, nor take thought of to-morrow’s teen,
Shall not bargain or huxter with God; or was it a jest of Christ’s
And is this my sin before men, to have taken Him at his word?


The lawyers have sat in council, the men with the keen, long faces,
And said, ‘This man is a fool,’ and others have said,
'He blasphemeth;’
And the wise have pitied the fool that hath striven to give a life
In the world of time and space among the bulks of actual things,
To a dream that was dreamed in the heart,
And that only the heart could hold.


O wise men, riddle me this: what if the dream come true?
What if the dream come true? And if millions unborn shall dwell
In the house that I shaped in my heart,
the noble house of my thought?
Lord, I have staked my soul, I have staked the lives of my kin
On the truth of Thy dreadful word. Do not remember my failures,
But remember this my faith.


And so I speak.
Yes, ere my hot youth pass, I speak to my people and say:
Ye shall be foolish as I; ye shall scatter, not save;
Ye shall venture your all, lest ye lose what is more than all;
Ye shall call for a miracle, taking Christ at His word.
And for this I will answer, O people, answer here and hereafter,
O people that I have loved shall we not answer together?

Patrick Henry Pearse

10-10-2002, 09:48 AM
It does now that you mention it. OH WELL!!!!

10-10-2002, 09:51 AM
BUT I LOVE IT!! :lol:

10-10-2002, 09:55 AM
Did Mauvais say it once? GEEZ unintentional plagiarism!!!!

10-10-2002, 10:11 AM
No. I think Will Shakespeare said it.

10-10-2002, 12:47 PM
Ellis... I had to laugh at this:

"I have squandered the splendid years
that the Lord God gave to my youth
In attempting impossible thins, deeming them alone worth the toil.
Was it folly or grace? Not men shall judge me, but God."

Is that attempting impossible "thins" or "things"? LOL... is this dieting folly or grace? :lol:

10-10-2002, 01:13 PM
That's great, Sojo .... :lol:

10-10-2002, 01:48 PM
Today at school we learned a dear friend and colleague passed away last night. She was just 52 and was diagnosed with cancer 4 months ago.

Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.


10-10-2002, 04:04 PM
Jinx - I am sorry to hear about the loss of your friend and colleague.

The poem is a beautiful tribute to her.

Love, Terri

10-10-2002, 07:43 PM
Jinx, I'm so very sorry about your friend and colleague. May I add something?

"Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner. All is well."

Henry Scott Holland

hugs, Ellis

10-10-2002, 07:52 PM
Jinx - I'm am very sorry to hear about your friend.

:grouphug: squeak

10-10-2002, 10:45 PM sorry to hear about your friend...
Ellis, I love that piece about death by Holland. So wonderful.
And the Millay as well.

Does anyone have Dylan Thomas' Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night?
I used to love that poem.
I only remember a bit of it...

Do not go gentle into that good night
old age should rant and rave at close of day
rage, rage against the dying of the light

anybody know the rest?

Love, Soozie

10-10-2002, 11:45 PM
Jinxii-sorry to hear about your friend :grouphug:

10-11-2002, 12:27 AM
Jinx-Sorry about your friend sweetie.

10-11-2002, 07:48 AM
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 the 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.

Dylan Thomas


10-11-2002, 08:06 AM
Sorry to change the subject... I just came across this and appreciate it...

Why Is This Age Worse...?

Why is this age worse than earlier ages?
In a stupor of grief and dread
have we not fingered the foulest wounds
and left them unhealed by our hands?

In the west the falling light still glows,
and the clustered housetops glitter in the sun,
but here Death is already chalking the doors with crosses,
and calling the ravens, and the ravens are flying in.

Translated by Stanley Kunitz (with Max Hayward)

Anna Akhmatova

10-11-2002, 08:40 AM
Jinx, I am so sorry to hear of your friend and colleagues passing. That was a beautiful poem.
Take care!

10-11-2002, 05:57 PM
Thank you all so much for your kind words and sympathy. Ellis the Holland poem is just beautiful and made me cry all over again. You have made me feel so welcome here and this has been a great support to me. Again, thank you all, I really do appreciate it. :grouphug:
Love Jinx

10-11-2002, 08:23 PM
Jinx, we're so very glad to have you here.
hugs for you, and prayers for your friend...

On a lighter note, if I may...

A Dog After Love

After you left me
I let a dog smell at
My chest and my belly. It will fill its nose
And set out to find you.

I hope it will tear the
Testicles of your lover and bite off his penis
Or at least
Will bring me your stockings between his teeth.

Yehuda Amichai

10-11-2002, 09:01 PM
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, That is the funniest poem I have ever read Ellis. I love it!

10-11-2002, 09:36 PM
Excuse me... I'm in a "poetry phase", and I just have to share the best of them with you... (well, best for ME! :D )

If I Forget Thee, Jerusalem

If I forget thee, Jerusalem,
Then let my right be forgotten.
Let my right be forgotten, and my left remember.
Let my left remember, and your right close
And your mouth open near the gate.

I shall remember Jerusalem
And forget the forest -- my love will remember,
Will open her hair, will close my window,
will forget my right,
Will forget my left.

If the west wind does not come
I'll never forgive the walls,
Or the sea, or myself.
Should my right forget
My left shall forgive,
I shall forget all water,
I shall forget my mother.

If I forget thee, Jerusalem,
Let my blood be forgotten.
I shall touch your forehead,
Forget my own,
My voice change
For the second and last time
To the most terrible of voices --
Or silence.

Yehuda Amichai

10-12-2002, 12:24 AM
Thanks Ellis. Soozie

10-12-2002, 08:21 AM
Thanks for your words Ellis. The dog poem made me chuckle :lol:
There is some beautiful poetry on this thread. Thanks for sharing everyone.
Jinx :flow1:

10-13-2002, 05:53 PM
:lol: :lol: :lol: That dog poem was hilarious!
Thanks for the good laugh Ellis!

10-14-2002, 08:32 AM
Ellis - keep 'em coming!

they're greeatttt :)


10-14-2002, 10:11 AM

Visits of condolence is all we get from them.
They squat at the Holocaust Memorial,
They put on grave faces at the Wailing Wall
And they laugh behind heavy curtains
In their hotels.
They have their pictures taken
Together with our famous dead
At Rachel's Tomb and Herzl's Tomb
And on Ammunition Hill.
They weep over our sweet boys
And lust after our tough girls
And hang up their underwear
To dry quickly
In cool, blue bathrooms.

Once I sat on the steps by agate at David's Tower, I placed my two heavy baskets at my side. A group of tourists was standing around their guide and I became their target marker. "You see that man with the baskets? Just right of his head there's an arch from the Roman period. Just right of his head." "But he's moving, he's moving!" I said to myself: redemption will come only if their guide tells them, "You see that arch from the Roman period? It's not important: but next to it, left and down a bit, there sits a man who's bought fruit and vegetables for his family."

Yehuda Amichai

10-15-2002, 03:57 PM
The Birth of the Water Baby by Erica Mann Jong

Little egg,
little nub,
full complement of
fingers, toes,
little rose blooming
in a red universe,
which once wanted you less
than emptiness,
but now holds you
containing your rapid heart
beat under its
slower one
as the earth
contains the sea.

O avocado pit
almost ready to sprout,
tiny fruit tree
within sight
of the sea,
little swimming fish,
little land lover,
hold on!
hold on!

Here, under my heart
you'll keep
till it's time
for us to meet,
& we come apart
that we may come
& you are born
the wavesound
of my blood,
the thunder of my heart,
& like your mother
always dreaming
of the sea.

10-15-2002, 04:08 PM
Thanks. I'd forgotten that Erica Jong wrote poetry first!

10-15-2002, 04:14 PM
that's beautiful, Terrigrrrl.... thank you.

10-15-2002, 04:23 PM
This has been going through my alleged brain since this morning's lovely walk...

Indian Summer

Along the line of smoky hills
The crimson forest stands,
And all the day the blue-jay calls
Throughout the autumn lands.

Now by the brook the maple leans,
With all his glory spread;
And all the sumachs on the hills
Have turned their green to red.

Now, by great marshes wrapt in midst,
Or past some river's mouth,
Throughout the long still autumn day
Wild birds are flying south.

-- William Wilfred Campbell (1860-1919)
Born at Kitchener, Campbell was known as
the poet of the Great Lakes.

A bit dated but the imagery gives me the shivers.

10-15-2002, 04:30 PM
Beautiful, Ruth.
You're such an egghead.

10-15-2002, 06:23 PM
Egghead is a good thing right? ;)

10-15-2002, 07:48 PM
Ohhh, that's lovely, Ruth! Thanks for sharing!

10-15-2002, 08:34 PM
Squeak-egghead is a good thing unless you are watching your cholesterol:lol:

That was beautiful Ruthxxx!

10-15-2002, 09:10 PM
Squeak! Where've you been?
Oh yeah... egghead is definitely a good thing. In a sarcastic kind of way. ;)

10-15-2002, 11:19 PM
Mauvais - you are a silly chicky :lol:

Ellis - I am here. I have been popping my head in even if I haven't sat down to write a whole lot. I will soon I promise. Life has been something, and I think I have hit all of the possible emotions in the last few days. But at least I will be in San Jose a week from Thursday. :)

10-16-2002, 06:39 AM
Thanks for that one Ruth, yes it does me too

For some reason it reminds me of the Adirondack Mountains when I read it.


10-16-2002, 07:12 AM
Well, he was writing about the Gatineau Hills near Ottawa. They are the worn down remains of what was the Adirondack Range in the olden days. NOT THAT I REMEMBER THAT FAR BACK!

10-20-2002, 10:06 PM
One of my favorites:

Sonnet XIV
by: Elizabeth Barrett Browning

If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only. Do not say
'I love her for her smile--her look--her way
Of speaking gently,--for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of pleasant ease on such a day'--
For these things in themselves, Beloved, may
Be changed, or change for thee,--and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry,--
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby !
But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou mayst love on, through love's eternity.

10-21-2002, 11:58 AM
Thank you, Squeak! Beautiful as usual.

10-21-2002, 06:11 PM
I'd say thanks Ellis, but since I didn't write it it does quite seem like the right response. :)
one more -


Repetition is the tool for human learning
live, understand, enjoy, then live again
constant cyclic experience
leads me to believe
I have something yet to learn

These apprehensious anxietic moments
come each day unfailed
lived with so much desire
away from the goals in mind but,
repetition is the tool of human learning

digging empty errant holes
where revisited pains compound
repetition is the tool of learning
Filling these deep scars -
Caves the walls upon bruised souls

defined decisions must be followed
repetition is the wings of learning
break the cycle
absorb all experience in this chance
and create actions vase on Faith

never hid behind veils of ignorance
never doubt the journey
allow no fear to hold you down
Fly upon the wings of learning
live each day in joyous bliss

~my boy

10-21-2002, 07:18 PM
If I die, survive me with such sheer force
that you will waken the furies of the pallid and the cold,
from south to south lift your indelible eyes,
from sun to sun, dream through your singing mouth.
I don't want your laughter or your steps to waver.
I don't want my heritage of joy to die.
Don't call up my person. I am absent.
Live in my absence as if in a house.
Absence is a house so vast
that inside you will pass through its walls
and hang pictures on the air.
Absence is a house so transparent
that I, lifeless, will see you, living,
and if you suffer, my love, I will die again.

Pablo Neruda

10-21-2002, 07:25 PM
Squeak! Did your boy write that? It's (to repeat myself yet again) beautiful!

10-21-2002, 08:57 PM
Love the poem Ellis. I enjoy reading everything that you girls have posted.

Yup, the boy wrote it. I love all of his writings, but I am also very biased. I am very proud of him though. And I like to share what he writes. My favorite thing is when he reads them to me. I can not even begin to tell you how amazing it feels to be currled up, arms around me and him reciting a poem he wrote to me. Even though he didn't write them *for* me, it still feels great. I think I would just about burst into tears if he wrote one for me. Though he did write a 4 line one for me to ask me on our first date. I don't remember what it was though...

10-23-2002, 12:00 PM
Squeak - your boy is very talented. How romantic to have a man read poetry to you that he has written.........:dizzy:

Thanks Ellis for the Neruda poem. :)

Do you know which of his books that one is taken from? So happy to find others who enjoy his work - especially someone as sweet as you - his work has had such an impact on my life.


10-23-2002, 06:34 PM
Thanks, Terri. :)
I think the poem is from his "100 Love Sonnets".

Silentium Amoris

As often-times the too resplendent sun
Hurries the pallid and reluctant moon
Back to her sombre cave, ere she hath won
A single ballad from the nightingale,
So doth thy Beauty make my lips to fail,
And all my sweetest singing out of tune.

And as at dawn across the level mead
On wings impetuous some wind will come,
And with its too harsh kisses break the reed
Which was its only instrument of song,
So my too stormy passions work me wrong,
And for excess of Love my Love is dumb.

But surely unto Thee mine eyes did show
Why I am silent, and my lute unstrung;
Else it were better we should part, and go,
Thou to some lips of sweeter melody,
And I to nurse the barren memory
Of unkissed kisses, and songs never sung.

by Oscar Wilde

10-25-2002, 07:38 PM
Fiesta Melons

In Benidorm there are melons,
Whole donkey-carts full

Of innumerable melons,
Ovals and balls,

Bright green and thumpable
Laced over with stripes

Of turtle-dark green.
Choose an egg-shape, a world-shape,

Bowl one homeward to taste
In the whitehot noon :

Cream-smooth honeydews,
Pink-pulped whoppers,

Bump-rinded cantaloupes
With orange cores.

Each wedge wears a studding
Of blanched seeds or black seeds

To strew like confetti
Under the feet of

This market of melon-eating

Sylvia Plath

10-25-2002, 07:55 PM
I love that, Terri. Thank you... :)

10-25-2002, 09:26 PM
Age is something that doesn't matter, unless you are a cheese.
Billie Burke

10-30-2002, 06:10 PM

Love is the One who masters all things;
I am mastered totally by Love.
By my passion of love for Love
I have ground sweet as sugar.
O furious Wind, I am only a straw before you;
How could I know where I will be blown next?
Whoever claims to have made a pact with Destiny
Reveals himself a liar and a fool;
What is any of us but a straw in a storm?
How could anyone make a pact with a hurricane?
God is working everywhere his massive Resurrection;
How can we pretend to act on our own?
In the hand of Love I am like a cat in a sack;
Sometimes Love hoists me into the air,
Sometimes Love flings me into the air,
Love swings me round and round His head;
I have no peace, in this world or any other.
The lovers of God have fallen in a furious river;
They have surrendered themselves to Love's commands.
Like mill wheels they turn, day and night, day and night,
Constantly turning and turning, and crying out.

Mowlana Jalaluddin Rumi

10-30-2002, 08:36 PM

that poem was obviously written by someone who has been in Love......

I've heard of Rumi before - who was/is he?


10-30-2002, 09:59 PM
Terri, here is a link ...

He was a very passionate man. I like a lot of his stuff.

11-04-2002, 06:33 PM
In My Sky at Twilight by Pablo Neruda

In my sky at twillight you are a cloud
and your form and color are the way I love them.
You are mine, mine, woman with sweet lips
and in your life my infinite dreams live.

The lamp of my soul dyes your feet,
the sour wine is sweeter on your lips,
oh reaper of my evening song,
how solitary dreams believe you to be mine!

You are mine, mine, I go shouting it to the afternoon's wind
and the wind hauls on my widowed voice.
Huntress of the depths of my eyes, your plunder
stills your nocturnal regard as though it were water.

You are taken in the net of my music, my love,
and my nets of music are wide as the sky.
My soul is born on the shore of your eyes of mourning.
In your eyes of mourning the land of dreams begins.

Although this poem has been a fav of mine for years, I recently ran into it again on a great website for women who love women's writing:


11-04-2002, 07:49 PM
VERY beautiful, Terri. Thank you.

11-05-2002, 11:06 AM
Sorry - so many gaffes lately on my part -

it is:


PS - thanks Ellis :)

11-05-2002, 12:42 PM
I know this is the poetry thread, but does anyone out there know when I'm to expect my period? I just can't remember.... But I sure as **** do feel crappy...

11-05-2002, 12:59 PM
Well...I know I'm due...Just passed through a massive PMS bender. Don't we all tend to pms at the same time?
%$#&*@ hormones...can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em!

11-06-2002, 01:19 AM
Ellis, I'm due to start early next week, and lately you have been ahead of me, so it should be any day now for you.

I'm in my "AGRESSIVELY UPSET" progesterone section of the month. As soon as that stops (around Sunday), TRUE PMS starts, and then my period. I'm starting to think I should follow my sister's lead and JUST SAY HYSTERECTOMY!!!!!

11-06-2002, 07:50 AM
Damn! Thanks, girls.
Den, you should have just had everything out during that last c-section. Appendix, tonsils, ovaries, breasts... oops! Not the breasts... unless you're bottle feeding. Then, OFF WITH THE BREASTS!!

11-06-2002, 10:14 AM
Ellis ................:dizzy:

11-06-2002, 10:50 AM
I seriously considered asking my OBGYN to take out some fat while he was in there.....................

11-06-2002, 01:08 PM
Oh yeah... forgot that one! Fat! The biggie...
In hind-sight, what we should have done was said to the surgeon, "Pass me the knife. I've got a few things to take out while I'm open."
I hate breasts. They're highly over-rated.

11-06-2002, 01:53 PM
um, I like mine....

11-06-2002, 01:55 PM
I'm sure they're very lovely, Squeak. :D You may keep them if you wish.

11-06-2002, 02:42 PM
I like Breasts too Ellis. Mmmmm!!! Breast!
Sorry thinking out loud. I understand though. I can not wait until some of these puppies are gone, but leave my nipples.

11-07-2002, 10:44 AM
hmmm maybe we need a breast poll ? :lol:

my vote: I like all of them, all the time :)

but do look forward to wearing a smaller size bra



11-08-2002, 01:24 AM
Ditto!! I liked mine better though when I couldn't store things under them!!!!

11-08-2002, 08:15 AM
That is so funny, but I can empathize with you. Some day they will be perky and look up to everyone, instead of at their feet!

11-08-2002, 05:11 PM
or require their own zip/postal code :lol:


11-08-2002, 05:18 PM
I've got two sports bras on, and I am VERY firm. Okay, so there's a deep red band around my middle indicating the blood flow's been cut off... at least I'm firm. :D

11-08-2002, 06:22 PM
HEY!! I think they ALREADY have their own postal code!!!! (and my butt has one too!!!!)

11-08-2002, 11:06 PM
Gee, I can really see all the poetry in this thread today.

Saggy, baggy, shaggy boobs
Hanging to my knees
Wish that I could perk them up
And make them look at me!

an original by Virginia
Thank you , thank you very much!!!

11-09-2002, 12:38 AM

That was GREAT Virginia!!!!

You're a poet,
and your boobs show it!!!!