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Fa-Q!
10-11-2004, 10:52
A really nice poem, written by this cat named Lord Byron. He must have been a player.


She Walks in Beauty
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

LEGLESS
10-11-2004, 11:34
Who you tryin' to impress, jack ass?!

Fa-Q!
10-11-2004, 11:35
Sure as hell not you! Bugger off my thread dandy boy!:respect:

Shatneresque
10-11-2004, 11:36
Originally posted by LEGLESS
Who you tryin' to impress, jack ass?!

Chicks, dude, obviously.

This Byron cat was one smooooooth mutha. I'll bet he always scored!

Wish I could write like that....

LEGLESS
10-11-2004, 11:38
Dandy boy??
Who's the one posting Byron poems, tryin to look all deep and meaningful??!!
Stick to trailer park trash, you dose!

Fa-Q!
10-11-2004, 11:39
Actually, I was reading this poem with my morning coffee, as I always tend to read poetry after I feed the chickens and milk the cows and just before I take my morning jog...

kniga
10-11-2004, 11:44
Fa-Q,

Fa-Q and poetry -- what's wrong with this picture? You can't go around building a solid reputation as a hardbitten, rough talking S.O.B. and then start posting poetry! What's the matter with you, son? You'll catch more flack than a quail on the first day of hunting season!

Fa-Q!
10-11-2004, 11:56
Allright, ya'll mutha****as! I tried to be nice and **** but, no, you ain't havin' it. Can you see the real me doctor? Doctor?!

Hey don't miss out on what your passin
You're missin the hoota of the funky Buddha
Eluder or the ****** up styles to get wicked
So come on as cypress starts to kick it
Cuz we're like the outlaw stridin
Suckers are hidein
Jump behind the bush when they see me driving
by
Hangin out my window
And my magnum takin out some puto's
Acting kinda loco
I'm just another local
Kid from from the street getting paid for my
vocals
Here is something you can't understand
How I could just kill a man

Here is something you can't understand [what does it all mean]
How I could just kill a man


I been doin' all the dumb ****,
yo, because I bet it's comin' from it
I'm not gonna waste no time,
******' around like I got ya hummin
Hummin'... comin' at cha...
And you know I had to gat ya.

(
Time for some action, just a fraction of friction
I got the clearance to run the interference
into your sattelite, shinin a battle light,
swing out the gat, and I know that will gat ya right.
Here's an example, just a little sample.
How I could just kill a man!
One-time tried to come in my home,
take my chrome, I said "Yo, it's on.
Take cover son, or you're ass-out.
How you like my chrome?", then I watched the rookie pass out.
Didn't have to blast him, but I did anyway...
Hahaha... that young punk had to pay.
So I just killed a man!


It's gonna be a long time before I finish
one of the many missions that I have to establish
To light my spliff, ignite ya with these sights
and if you ain't down: bull****!
Say some punk try to get you for your auto,
Would you call the one-time, play the role model?
No, I think you play like a thug
Next hear the shot of a magnum slug
Hummin', comin' at cha
yeah ya know I'm gonna gat ya
How you know where I'm at when you haven't been where I've been,
understand where I'm coming from.
When you're up on the hill, in your big home
I'm out here, risking my dome.
Just for a bucket, or a fast ducat
just to stay alive, aiyyo I gotta say "**** it".
Here is something you can't understand
How I could just kill a man

Tatiana cat
10-11-2004, 12:15
Originally posted by LEGLESS
Who you tryin' to impress, jack ass?!

I am impressed...:D

plastique
10-11-2004, 12:23
me too...

Fa-Q!
10-11-2004, 12:24
Sorry, ladies for giving in to the negative influence of those vile fiends.

plastique
10-11-2004, 12:27
forgiven...

Kshisya
10-11-2004, 12:32
:D well I grew dumb when saw the first post :D so thank you Fa-Q for posting one more poem , it helped to get back to normal :D


:rolleyes: gosh what a language :rolleyes:



if it was ME posting suchA poem they would f**king block me from this page!!!!!! :evilgrin: sexism!

:p

Fa-Q!
10-11-2004, 12:39
The Raven
[First published in 1845]

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow will he leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet violet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

Kshisya
10-11-2004, 12:51
:eek: ...:rolleyes:....:suspect:....:eek:....oooooooooooi...:eek:

~swooned~

crom
10-11-2004, 12:54
K
don't swoon - it's about death coming

Fa-Q!
10-11-2004, 12:55
It's the somber, hypnotic rhythm that I like. In my opinion unmatched to this day.

Kshisya
10-11-2004, 13:07
Originally posted by crom
K
don't swoon - it's about death coming

death can come? :eek: oi dat must look messy and disgusting! :suspect:

:p

Fa-Q :inlove: khoroshi :D davai post poems if in mood am personally enjoying despite being damn concerned bout the state of yo mental health :p

;)

Fa-Q!
10-11-2004, 13:08
Don't worry bout me. I'm as crazy as a run over dog and that ain't gonna change.

Tatiana cat
10-11-2004, 13:32
FAQ, now we need something with a happy happy end...:)

nevermore
10-11-2004, 19:13
Originally posted by Fa-Q!
The Raven
[First published in 1845]

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'.......



Fa-Q,
...thank you for posting that... some time ago i was collecting translations of this magnificent poem into Russian.... found 15, great ones... but what can be compared to Po?

plastique
10-11-2004, 20:04
can't read it without james earl jonses' voice in my head! Classic Simpson's moment...

sir Gay
10-11-2004, 20:36
Originally posted by plastique
me too...

no offense, nothing personal, no bad feeling but i loooved the poem... sorry if my remark was - as always - out of place

can any1 help me to find the poem by kipling called "If"? i collected its russian translations.

Fa-Q!
11-11-2004, 09:55
Originally posted by nevermore
Fa-Q,
...thank you for posting that... some time ago i was collecting translations of this magnificent poem into Russian.... found 15, great ones... but what can be compared to Po?
That's right, baby. Poe was the main nigga behind the trigga, yo, droppin' some devilish ****. Here's another one of my favs. Check it out.

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.

Sidney Bliss
11-11-2004, 10:20
Boys dream of native girls who bring breadfruit,
Whatever they are,
As bribes to teach them how to execute
Sixteen sexual positions on the sand;
This makes them join (the boys) the tennis club,
Jive at the Mecca, use deodorants, and
On Saturdays squire ex-schoolgirls to the pub
By private car.

Such uncorrected visions end in church
Or registrar:
A mortgaged semi- with a silver birch;
Nippers; the widowed mum; having to scheme
With money; illness; age. So absolute
Maturity falls, when old men sit and dream
Of naked native girls who bring breadfruit
Whatever they are.

Fa-Q!
11-11-2004, 10:22
:thumbsup:

Halyavshik
11-11-2004, 10:22
A kinky young girl from Smallville
Screwed a dynamite stick for a thrill
They found her vagina
In North Carolina
And bits of her tits in Brazil.

Fa-Q!
11-11-2004, 10:27
:D :D
Bravo Hal!

Halyavshik
11-11-2004, 10:36
Magnificent cadence and iambic pentameter, don't you think ?

sfjohns67
11-11-2004, 10:37
The sole of my left foot in its arid squalor
Seeps pus through my secondhand Teva coral reefers
I sigh the breath of the weary and wave
The weary wave back at me and flash their shiny whitened teeth

WalMart beckons my secondhand life
Oh the shopping among the mortals
Oh the smell of the stale nachos with fake cheese dip
They sell it by the entrance

I am wont to stay for the blue light special
My checkbook has checks to make me a man
A woman must envy, for she cannot afford
The chiffon robe with the frilly lace inlays around the neckline

But I will conquer, for my feet have found new strength
The Keds and counterfeit Nikes on sale in the shoe department
They caress me, they console me, they comfort me
Now I am at one with my sole

Tatiana cat
11-11-2004, 10:54
Attraction

The meadow and the mountain with desire
Gazed on each other, till a fierce unrest
Surged 'neath the meadow's seemingly calm breast,
And all the mountain's fissures ran with fire.
A mighty river rolled between them there.
What could the mountain do but gaze and burn?
What could the meadow do but look and yearn,
And gem its bosom to conceal despair?
Their seething passion agitated space,
Till lo! the lands a sudden earthquake shook,
The river fled: the meadow leaped, and took
The leaning mountain in a close embrace.

(by Ella Wheeler Wilcox)

sfjohns67
11-11-2004, 11:19
Consequence

Streaming molten lava of pain
Spins down past the rim of the can
From whence this burning feeling in my glands?

Richard double-wrapped, checked twice
Alcohol swabbed fore to aft
Antibacterial soap caresses my hands

Now the fleeting flit of several weeks
Have festered to boil over well
My ablutions I undertake with naught but dread

Deafening thunder of agony
From frank and beans on fire
A specter claws my pecker into shreds

Shaking the dew Odyssian at best
The fire is now in the bowl
God help me if I have to take a crap

For 'twas a chance meeting, a kiss, then a knowing
Woman's wiles their usual curse
The nasty wench was crawling with the clap

(Stephen Johnson, not drunk)

Halyavshik
11-11-2004, 11:23
Are you sure you didn't copy that from Maya Angelou ?

sfjohns67
11-11-2004, 11:26
The only thing even close to unoriginal was the girl's name and number from the bathroom stall, which I decided to leave out of my work of art in case she knows a really good copyright lawyer.

Shatneresque
11-11-2004, 11:39
HIGH FLIGHT

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings!
Sunward I've climbed,
And joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds---
And done a hundred things you have not dreamed of!
Wheeled and looped and soared, high in the sunlit silence;
Hov'ring there, I've chased the shouting wind along,
And flung my eager craft through footless halls of air!
Up, up, the long, delirious, burning blue---
I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace,
Where never lark or even eagle flew!
And, while with silent, lifting mind,
I've trod the high, untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand,
And touched the face of God!

Pilot Officer John Gillespie Magee, Jr.
No. 412 Squadron, RCAF
KIA 11 December 1941

And I still get choked up every time I read it....

Kshisya
11-11-2004, 11:42
:inlove: stevo am in love with your new Avatar! :hooray: takoi cute!!! :D

Tatiana cat
11-11-2004, 12:05
The Eagle (a Fragment)

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring'd with the azure world, he stands.
The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

(Alfred, Lord Tennyson)

Tatiana cat
11-11-2004, 12:15
I love it cos I'm still a little girl...

Mrs. Doodle went to town
riding on a gator.
She didn't feed the gator,
so the hungry gator ate 'er

Little Miss Muffet
sat on a tuffet
eating her curds and whey.
Along came a spider
who sat down beside her.
And since she was still hungry, she ate the spider, too.

Yankee Doodle went to town
riding on a chicken.
He went into a restaurant
and came out finger lickin'.

Little Boy Blue
please blow your nose.
It drips like a faucet
and sprays like a hose.
Your brother and sister
are getting upset,
so please blow your nose-
'cause you're getting them wet!

sfjohns67
11-11-2004, 12:21
Old Mother Hubbard
Went to her cupboard
To give her poor doggie a bone

But when she bent over
Old Rover took over
And gave her a bone of his own

Halyavshik
11-11-2004, 12:24
Little Miss Muffet
Sat on her tuffet
Eating her curds and whey.

When along came a spider
and sat down beside her
and said, "Yo, what's in the bowl, Bitch ?"

Kshisya
11-11-2004, 12:28
Originally posted by Halyavshik
Little Miss Muffet
Sat on her tuffet
Eating her curds and whey.

When along came a spider
and sat down beside her
and said, "Yo, what's in the bowl, Bitch ?"

:D those spider's name was obviously Fa-Q?? :D

sfjohns67
11-11-2004, 12:34
My Bonnie went into the gas tank
The height of its contents to see
She lit a small match to assist her
Oh bring back my Bonnie to me

nevermore
11-11-2004, 16:05
Originally posted by sir Gay
no offense, nothing personal, no bad feeling but i loooved the poem... sorry if my remark was - as always - out of place

can any1 help me to find the poem by kipling called "If"? i collected its russian translations.

Sir Gay, i hope the below link will help you...
http://members.tripod.com/poetry_pearls/rPoets/Kipling.htm