I'm Alive, I Believe in Everything - Lesley Choyce

Self. Brotherhood. God. Zeus. Communism.

Capitalism. Buddha. Vinyl records.

Baseball. Ink. Trees. Cures for disease.

Saltwater. Literature. Walking. Waking.

Arguments. Decisions. Ambiguity. Absolutes.

Presence. Absence. Positive and Negative.

Empathy. Apathy. Sympathy and entropy.

Verbs are necessary. So are nouns.

Empty skies. Dark vacuums of night.

Visions. Revisions. Innocence.

I've seen All the empty spaces yet to be filled.

I've heard All of the sounds that will collect

at the end of the world.

And the silence that follows.

I'm alive, I believe in everything

I'm alive, I believe in it all.

Waves lapping on the shore.

Skies on fire at sunset.

Old men dancing on the streets.

Paradox and possibility.

Sense and sensibility.

Cold logic and half truth.

Final steps and first impressions.

Fools and fine intelligence.

Chaos and clean horizons.

Vague notions and concrete certainty.

Optimism in the face of adversity.

I'm alive, I believe in everything

I'm alive, I believe in it all.

- I believe in living, breathing, myself, love, learning...many things actually. To me this poem is about yin and yang, and having an open mind. By virtue of being alive, Choyce chooses to believe in everything there is in the world - the good and bad, you can't have one without the other. By freeing your mind to endless possibilities and accepting life you grow as a person.

Still I Rise - 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.

- I love the self-belief this poem has. Angelou shows that no matter what someone says or does to you all that matters is that you believe in yourself. She will continue to rise regardless of anyones negativity because those thoughts are that persons problem, not hers. Her belief is quite infectious when you read the poem - I feel empowered just reading her words. "I rise I rise I rise" is an affirmation to strengthen the soul.

Miracles - Walt Whitman

Why! who makes much of a miracle?

As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles,

Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,

Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,

Or wade with naked feet along the beach, just in the edge of the

water,

Or stand under trees in the woods,

Or talk by day with any one I love--or sleep in the bed at night with

any one I love,

Or sit at table at dinner with my mother,

Or look at strangers opposite me riding in the car,

Or watch honey-bees busy around the hive, of a summer forenoon,

Or animals feeding in the fields,

Or birds--or the wonderfulness of insects in the air,

Or the wonderfulness of the sun-down--or of stars shining so quiet

and bright,

Or the exquisite, delicate, thin curve of the new moon in spring;

Or whether I go among those I like best, and that like me best--

mechanics, boatmen, farmers,

Or among the savans--or to the soiree--or to the opera,

Or stand a long while looking at the movements of machinery,

Or behold children at their sports,

Or the admirable sight of the perfect old man, or the perfect oldwoman,

Or the sick in hospitals, or the dead carried to burial,

Or my own eyes and figure in the glass;

These, with the rest, one and all, are to me miracles,

The whole referring--yet each distinct, and in its place.

To me, every hour of the light and dark is a miracle,

Every cubic inch of space is a miracle,

Every square yard of the surface of the earth is spread with the

same,

Every foot of the interior swarms with the same;

Every spear of grass--the frames, limbs, organs, of men and women,

and all that concerns them,

All these to me are unspeakably perfect miracles.

To me the sea is a continual miracle;

The fishes that swim--the rocks--the motion of the waves--the ships,

with men in them,

What stranger miracles are there?

- Every thing is miraculous! To me the miracle of birth and the possibility of giving life to another human being is lifes greatest miracle. Whether it be standing under a tree or sleeping in bed with the one you love...everything is divine - nothing is greater or lesser than anything or anyone else. We are all made of the same stuff, all dwelling in a beautiful world don't really understand, all dwelling in a body made of skin and bones that we never asked to be born into. It's all about what you choose to focus your attention on. The miracle that is 'you' is part of an even bigger miracle. Choose love. Choose Peace. Choose to be inspired and to inspire others.

The quote attached to this wonderous photograph is by Albert Einstein. He says:

"There are two ways to live your life. One as though nothing is a miracle. The other as though everything is a miracle."

A Dream Within A Dream - Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!

And, in parting from you now,

Thus much let me avow-

You are not wrong, who deem

That my days have been a dream;

Yet if hope has flown away

In a night, or in a day,

In a vision, or in none,

Is it therefore the less gone?

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar

Of a surf-tormented shore,

And I hold within my hand

Grains of the golden sand-

How few! yet how they creep

Through my fingers to the deep,

While I weep- while I weep!

O God! can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

O God! can I not save

One from the pitiless wave?

Is all that we see or seem

But a dream within a dream?

- This poem highlights the transitory nature of life. Standing on the shore, Poe is looking back on his life and wondering if it has all been a dream. He realises that nothing lasts forever, everything is constantly changing. He cannot even hold onto a grain of sand before it is swept away to sea (possibly a symbol of nature ever changing - the grains of sand could symbolise his loved ones slipping away from him and going 'home'). I think this poem serves as a reminder to treasure what you have right here, right now in this moment.

Poetry - Edmund Vance Cooke

To deftly do what many dimly think;

To fund a feeling for the world to borrow;

To turn a tear to printer's ink;

To make a sonnet of a sorrow.

- I love poems about poetry - poets writing about what it means to write. For me personally, when I write its because I don't know how not to write - a word, a picture, a feeling comes to me and I pick up pen and paper in the same way I breathe in and out. You are a special soul if you can make your words and experiences a source of inspiration to another and if you make the choice to 'turn a tear to printer's ink'.

Storms - Margie DeMerell

There will be storms, child

There will be storms

And with each tempest

You will seem to stand alone

Against cruel winds

But with time, the rage and fury

Shall subside

And when the sky clears

You will find yourself

Clinging to someone

You would have never known

But for storms.

- So true. The storm-clouds have a silver lining that's sometimes very hard to see, especially if you are in the eye of the storm. When the tough times in your life pass - you are able to look back and see what or who you gained from having weathered the storm.

Just One - Poet Unknown

One song can spark a moment,
One flower can wake the dream.
One tree can start a forest,
One bird can herald spring.
One smile begins a friendship,
One handclasp lifts a soul.
One star can guide a ship at sea,
One word can frame the goal
One vote can change a nation,
One sunbeam lights a room
One candle wipes out darkness,
One laugh will conquer gloom.
One step must start each journey.
One word must start each prayer.
One hope will raise our spirits,
One touch can show you care.
One voice can speak with wisdom,
One heart can know what's true,
One life can make a difference,
You see, it's up to you!

- What difference are you going to make to the world today?

Dreams - Langston Hughes

Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

- Imagination is everything, its a preview of lifes coming attractions. Our dreams are what make us who we are. This poem tells me to have faith and believe in the possibilities of dreams coming true. When you lose faith you are not fulfilling your life purpose - "a broken-winged bird that cannot fly". Stay strong. Believe.

Are You The New Person Drawn Toward Me? - Walt Whitman

Are you the new person drawn toward me?

To begin with take warning, I am surely far different from what you suppose;

Do you suppose you will find in me your ideal?

Do you think it so easy to have me become your lover?

Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloy'd satisfaction?

Do you think I am trusty and faithful?

Do you see no further than this facade, this smooth and tolerant

manner of me?

Do you suppose yourself advancing on real ground toward a real heroic man?

Have you no thought O dreamer that it may be all maya, illusion?

- Awesome. When we start to like someone we build up an idea in our head of the kind of person they are. We build up images of what a relationship with this person would be like and live out scenarios in our mind. Whitman tries to beware the 'dreamer' of getting carried away in a land of make-believe (maya = illusions of the universe). When we fall in love we only see all the amazing qualities about that person. The poet suggests he doesn't want to be put on a pedestal.

I Am Not Yours - Sarah Teasdale

I am not yours, not lost in you,

Not lost, although I long to be

Lost as a candle lit at noon,

Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me, and I find you still

A spirit beautiful and bright,

Yet I am I, who long to be

Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh plunge me deep in love -- put out

My senses, leave me deaf and blind,

Swept by the tempest of your love,

A taper in a rushing wind.

- I absolutely love reading different peoples takes on love and what it means to them to long for someone. I love Teasdales passion and yearning to be fully absorbed in the object of her affection "Oh plunge me deep in love...leave me deaf and blind". I think "Lost as a candle lit at noon, Lost as a snowflake in the sea" perfectly describes her desire to be one entity with her love. There is no rhyme or reason when it comes to true love.

Seeker of Truth - E.E Cummings

seeker of truth

follow no path

all paths lead where

truth is here

- Beautifully short and to the point. There is a great Zen saying this makes me think of...

"The only Zen you find on the tops of the mountains is the Zen you bring up there"

Truth isn't something that comes to you in the form of a person, place or thing - its something you have to find within yourself whatever path you choose in life...

Solitude - Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;

Weep, and you weep alone.

For the sad old earth must borrow it's mirth,

But has trouble enough of its own.

Sing, and the hills will answer;

Sigh, it is lost on the air.

The echoes bound to a joyful sound,

But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;

Grieve, and they turn and go.

They want full measure of all your pleasure,

But they do not need your woe.

Be glad, and your friends are many;

Be sad, and you lose them all.

There are none to decline your nectared wine,

But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;

Fast, and the world goes by.

Succeed and give, and it helps you live,

But no man can help you die.

There is room in the halls of pleasure

For a long and lordly train,

But one by one we must all file on

Through the narrow aisles of pain.

- I love and hate how true this poem is. People are more than happy to share in your happiness and its when the hard times hit you may find the 'bestest' of friends actually don't care about you at all unless you have a smile on your face. "They want full measure of your pleasure but do not need your woe". Its so apt - everyone is striving for the ultimate happiness and will try to find this at the expense of someone elses sadness. I thank the tough times in my life for showing me who deserves my friendship and who doesn't...

one love...one heart...lets get together and feel alright...

The 6 o'clock News - Tom Leonard

this is thi

six a clock

news thi

man said n

thi reason

a talk wia

BBC accent

iz coz yi

widny wahnt

mi ti talk

aboot thi

trooth wia

voice lik

wanna yoo

scruff. if

a toktaboot

thi trooth

lik wanna yoo

scruff yi

widny thingk

it wuz troo.

jist wanna yoo

scruff tokn.

thirza right

way ti spell

ana right way

to tok it. this

is me tokn yir

right way a

spellin. this

is ma trooth.

yooz doant no

thi trooth

yirsellz cawz

yi canny talk

right. this is

the six a clock

nyooz. belt up.

- I wiz hinking aboot this alot like. I hink Leonard is trying tae say that everywan shud speak posh n that... He says if newsreaders spoke in a more common accent people would not believe the news anymore. The Glasgow-born poet is defending his roots by saying the truth is the truth regardless of how it is spoken or who it is told by.

Auguries Of Innocence - William Blake

To see a World in a Grain of Sand

And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,

Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand

And Eternity in an hour.

- This is an excerpt which I think holds its own as a poem. Look at the world as if it was brand new again! As we grow into adults, we become so used to the world we forget to be amazed by something as seemingly simple as a flower, even though we don't understand what makes that flower grow. It is the same Source and Energy which keeps our hearts beating and wakes us into the world each day. The sand, the flowers are a tiny spark of the divine mystery...and so are we.

All is Vanity - Lord Byron

Fame, wisdom, love, and power were mine,

And health and youth possessed me;

My goblets blushed from every vine,

And lovely forms caressed me;

I sunned my heart in beauty’ eyes,

And felt my soul grow tender;

All earth can give, or mortal prize,

Was mine of regal splendour.

I strive to number o’er what days

Remembrance can discover,

Which all that life or earth displays

Would lure me to live over.

There rose no day, there rolled no hour

Of pleasure unembittered;

And not a trapping decked my power

That galled not while it glittered.

The serpent of the field, by art

And spells, is won from harming;

But that which soils around the heart,

Oh! who hath power of charming?

It will not list to wisdom’s lore,

Nor music’s voice can lure it;

But there it stings for evermore

The soul that must endure it.

- My interpretation of this is that a life can be filled with what appears to be wonderful 'things', fame and power etc. You can feel like you have everything however 'it will not list to wisdom's lore, nor music's voice can lure it' if it is all vanity and goes no deeper in your soul. This vanity curses your life hence 'it stings for evermore the soul that must endure it'. It is better for humans to live a life which is honest and real even if it is not perfect as those who have the glamorous lives everyone so aspires to have. It is harder to determine who and what is real in a world filled with vanity.

Fiction and the Reading Public - Philip Larkin

Give me a thrill, says the reader,

Give me a kick;I don't care how you succeed, or

What subject you pick.

Choose something you know all about

That'll sound like real life:

Your childhood, your Dad pegging out,

How you sleep with your wife.

But that's not sufficient, unless

You make me feel good -

Whatever you're 'trying to express'

Let it be understood

That 'somehow' God plaits up the threads,

Makes 'all for the best',

That we may lie quiet in our beds

And not be 'depressed'.

For I call the tune in this racket:

I pay your screw,

Write reviews and the bull on the jacket -

So stop looking blue

And start serving up your sensations

Before it's too late;

Just please me for two generations -

You'll be 'truly great'.

- Larkin is brilliant! This highlights his pressure as a writer from the readers who he feels want to take something of his experience from him. He views the public as being demanding of him and I feel the poem grudges the public and how critical they can be of anothers experience. If they are not entertained somewhat by it then they don't want to hear about it.

Implications Of One Plus One - Marge Piercy

Sometimes we collide, tectonic plates merging,

continents shoving, crumpling down into the molten

veins of fire deep in the earth and raising

tons of rock into jagged crests of Sierra.

Sometimes your hands drift on me, milkweed's

airy silk, wingtip's feathery caresses,

our lips grazing, a drift of desires gathering

like fog over warm water, thickening to rain.

Sometimes we go to it heartily, digging,

burrowing, grunting, tossing up covers

like loose earth, nosing into the other's

flesh with hot nozzles and wallowing there.

Sometimes we are kids making out, silly

in the quilt, tickling the xylophone spine,

blowing wet jokes, loud as a whole

slumber party bouncing till the bed breaks.

I go round and round you sometimes, scouting,

blundering, seeking a way in, the high boxwood

maze I penetrate running lungs bursting

toward the fountain of green fire at the heart.

Sometimes you open wide as cathedral doors

and yank me inside. Sometimes you slither

into me like a snake into its burrow.

Sometimes you march in with a brass band.

Ten years of fitting our bodies together

and still they sing wild songs in new keys.

It is more and less than love: timing,

chemistry, magic and will and luck.

One plus one equal one, unknowable except

in the moment, not convertible into words,

not explicable or philosophically interesting.

But it is. And it is. And it is. Amen.

- This really caught my eye...implications of one plus one suggests a mathematical equation where she tries to understand the consequence of adding two human beings together and what this can equate too. The poem suggests she knows deep down that love goes beyond maths "chemistry, magic and will and luck"... The one word "Amen" at the end is very poignant...a prayer cannot be rationialised, when we pray we have faith in a higher power. When we fall in love we also have faith in a power beyond ourselves...love it...I also love the powerful sexual imagery throughout.

Funeral Blues - W.H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,


Silence the pianos and with muffled drum


Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.





Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead


Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.


Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,


Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.





He was my North, my South, my East and West,


My working week and my Sunday rest,


My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;


I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.





The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,


Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,


Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;


For nothing now can ever come to any good.





- Beautifully tragic. This poem captures the unbearable feeling of loss which consumes every fibre of our being. Auden has rawness that could bring me to tears and portrays loss as gut-wrenchingly horrific as it feels...

Giving Up Smoking - Wendy Cope

There’s not a Shakespeare sonnet

Or a Beethoven quartet

That’s easier to like than you

Or harder to forget.

You think that sounds extravagant?

I haven’t finished yet –

I like you more than I would like

To have a cigarette.

- Cope says that no-one can understand what an intense love poem this is unless they have been addicted to nicotine and I totally agree.

November Rain by Guns 'N' Roses

When I look into your eyes

I can see a love restrained

But darlin' when I hold you

Don't you know I feel the same

Nothin' lasts forever

And we both know hearts can change

And it's hard to hold a candle

In the cold November rain

We've been through this such a long long time

Just tryin' to kill the pain

But lovers always come and lovers always go

An no one's really sure who's lettin' go today

Walking away

If we could take the time to lay it on the line

I could rest my head

Just knowin' that you were mine

All mine

So if you want to love me then darlin' don't refrain

Or I'll just end up walkin'

In the cold November rain

Do you need some time...on your own

Do you need some time...all alone

Everybody needs some time... on their own

Don't you know you need some time...all alone

I know it's hard to keep an open heart

When even friends seem out to harm you

But if you could heal a broken heart

Wouldn't time be out to charm you

Sometimes I need some time...on my own

Sometimes I need some time...all alone

Everybody needs some time... on their own

Don't you know you need some time...all alone

And when your fears subside

And shadows still remain

I know that you can love me

When there's no one left to blame

So never mind the darkness

We still can find a way Nothin' lasts forever

Even cold November rain

Don't ya think that you need somebody

Don't ya think that you need someone

Everybody needs somebody

You're not the only one

You're not the only one

- A brilliant song - reminds me of the heartbreaking moments in life - still love it...

Strings In The Earth and Air - James Joyce

Strings in the earth and air
Make music sweet;
Strings by the river where
The willows meet.
There's music along the river
For Love wanders there,
Pale flowers on his mantle,
Dark leaves on his hair.
All softly playing,
With head to the music bent,
And fingers straying
Upon an instrument.

- A beautiful appreciation of nature - there is poetry in everything you just have to see it.

It Ain't What You Do, It's What It Does To You - Simon Armitage

I have not bummed across America

with only a dollar to spare, one pair

of busted Levi's and a bowie knife.

I have lived with thieves in Manchester.

I have not padded through the Taj Mahal,

barefoot, listening to the space between

each footfall picking up and putting down
its print against the marble floor. But I

skimmed flat stones across Black Moss on a day

so still I could hear each set of ripples

as they crossed. I felt each stone's inertia

spend itself against the water; then sink.

I have not toyed with a parachute cord

while perched on the lip of a light-aircraft;

but I held the wobbly head of a boy

at the day centre, and stroked his fat hands.

And I guess that the tightness in the throat

and the tiny cascading sensation

somewhere inside us are both part of that

sense of something else. That feeling, I mean.

- Amazing, love it. It isn't those grand experiences that make us who we are but rather what we make of each experience and how we let them touch our lives. Incredible poem.

The Final Analysis - Mother Teresa

People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered;

Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind,

People may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;

Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;

Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;

Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;

Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;

Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;

Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;

Give the world the best you've got anyway.

You see, in the FINAL analysis, it is between you and God;

It was never between you and them anyway.

- I may not believe in 'God' as such but I believe the most challenging relationship you can have in life is the relationship you have with yourself. This poem is amazing. Its how I try to live my life. It's an incredible and inspiring example to anyone...

May I Feel Said He - E.E Cummings

may i feel said he

(i'll squeal said she

just once said he)

it's fun said she

(may i touch said he

how much said she

a lot said he)

why not said she

(let's go said he

not too far said she

what's too far said he

where you are said she)

may i stay said he

(which way said she

like this said he

if you kiss said she

may i move said he

is it love said she)

if you're willing said he

(but you're killing said she

but it's life said he

but your wife said she

now said he)

ow said she

(tiptop said he

don't stop said she

oh no said he)

go slow said she

(cccome?said he

ummm said she)

you're divine! said he

(you are Mine said she)

- The rhythm of the poem echoes the rhythm of the sex, very erotic!

Time Does Not Bring Relief - Edna St. Vincent Millay

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied

Who told me time would ease me of my pain!

I miss him in the weeping of the rain;

I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,

And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;

But last year's bitter loving must remain

Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide!
There are a hundred places where I fear

To go, ... so with his memory they brim!

And entering with relief some quiet place

Where never fell his foot or shone his face.
I say, "There is no memory of him here!"

And so stand stricken, so remembering him!

- I think this is so well-written, especially the final lines where she goes somewhere that he has never been...believing this will bring some kind of relief. However, she does this consciously and thus thinks of him in the process of doing it and so remembers him in her conscious effort to try and forget him! I think there is irony of 'remembering to forget' here! Great!

Give Yourself A Hug - Grace Nichols

Give yourself a hug
when you feel unloved
Give yourself a hug
when people put on airs
to make you feel a bug
Give yourself a hug
when everyone seems to give you
a cold-shoulder shrug
Give yourself a hug –
a big big hug
And keep on singing
‘Only one in a million like me
Only one in a million-billion-trillion-zillion
like me.’

- I love this 'feel good' poem, its so easy to forget that your a tiny little miracle in the universe...this poem reminds me there's only one of me!

If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking - Emily Dickinson

If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.

- In the beginning of the poem nothing is wrong quite yet - "If I can stop"- meaning if she can prevent one heart from breaking, as the poem progresses Dickinson talks of 'easing' and 'cooling' pain so there becomes an awareness that you can't stop a heart from breaking...to help a fainting robin unto his nest suggests helping someone get back to being themselves and catching them before they fall. She would like to be able to stop a heart from breaking - however equally feels just as purposeful by soothing someones broken heart...

Valentine - Wendy Cope

My heart has made its mind up

And I'm afraid it's you.

Whatever you've got lined up,

My heart has made its mind up

And if you can't be signed up

This year, next year will do.

My heart has made its mind up

And I'm afraid it's you.

- I love the rhythm of this poem, very witty, I love how her heart seems to have its own mind. It really is a battle sometimes between the head and the heart when it comes to love. She almost sounds like she's rationalising with her heart - yet she knows her heart is a force to be reckoned with - hence the repeated lines "My heart has made its mind up and I'm afraid it's you." Like it or not - the heart rules the head!

Fire and Ice - Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire;

Some say in ice.

From what I've tasted of desire

I hold with those who favor fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To know that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

- 'Fire' is desire, 'Ice' is hate. Both emotions are equally destructive - however Frost would side with those who favour fire...because he feels desire is more necessary to humanity than hate. Both emotions are strong enough to destroy. Good.

Love Poem - Vicki Feaver

Sharing one umbrella,

We have to hold each other,

Round the waist to keep together,

You ask me why I'm smiling-

It's because I'm thinking,

I want it to rain forever.

- Very beautiful. After I had read this poem I saw a couple under and umbrella holding each other and laughing...I actually cried! I'm such a woman!

A Wish for My Children - Evangeline Paterson

On this doorstep I stand

year after year

to watch you going

and think: May you not

skin your knees. May you

not catch your fingers

in car doors. May

your hearts not break.

May tide and weather

wait for your coming

and may you grow strong

to break

all webs of my weaving.

- I quite simply just like this poem, especially the ending "may you grow strong and break all the webs of my weaving". Paterson is saying that although she wants her child(dren) to be protected from worldly dangers - she also wants them to become strong enough to explore and experience the world...

Notes - Paul Engle

Butterfly trembles when the wind blows.

You walk near me.

The dog barks at the loud moon.

When you come to me,I speak softly, softly,

Until we are silent together.

For two hundred years

This pine tree has been trained to grow sideways.

I have known you only one week,

But I bend as you walk toward me.

- I love Engles analogy of how he bends towards the object of his affection in the same way as a tree which has spent years growing bends. He suggests that sometimes the connection we have with someone can be so natural (like a tree that grows in the wood) and also that it can feel like you've know that peron forever, no matter how long it has been (two hundred years or one week!) - you will bend in a way you yourself may not even understand...

Loss - Wendy Cope

The day he moved was terrible-

That evening she went through hell.

His absence wasn't a problem

But the corkscrew had gone as well.

- I think this is sharp and witty, I love how flippant she is, saying it is more of a problem that she can't have wine, rather than that she misses him!

Sometimes - Sir Edwin Arnold

Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours

For one lone soul, another lonely soul-

Each chasing each through all the weary hours,

And meeting strangely at one sudden goal;

Then blend they- like green leaves with golden flowers,

Into one beautiful and perfect whole-

And life's long night is ended, and the way

Lies open onward to eternal day.

- How beautiful! I love the way he says each soul is chasing the other. I think thats true love when two people feel that same way about each other and they blend into one...

Che Fece… Il Gran Rifiuto - C.P Cavafy

For some people the day comes

when they have to declare the great Yes

or the great No. It’s clear at once who has the Yes

ready within him; and saying it,

he goes from honor to honor, strong in his conviction.

He who refuses does not repent. Asked again,

he’d still say no. Yet that no—the right no—

drags him down all his life.

- The title translated means "Who made...the great refusal". I really like this though I'm struggling slightly with it. I would say the "right no" is about doing what appears to be the right thing - if we ALWAYS do we will be dragged down our whole lives by not listening to our hearts. Sometimes we have to take a chance and declare the great YES...from this we become stronger...

Lines Composed in a Wood on a Windy Day - Anne Bronte

My soul is awakened, my spirit is soaring

And carried aloft on the wings of the breeze;

For above and around me the wild wind is roaring,

Arousing to rapture the earth and the seas.

The long withered grass in the sunshine is glancing,

The bare trees are tossing their branches on high;

The dead leaves beneath them are merrily dancing,

The white clouds are scudding across the blue sky

I wish I could see how the ocean is lashing

The foam of its billows to whirlwinds of spray;

I wish I could see how its proud waves are dashing,

And hear the wild roar of their thunder to-day!

- I love this totally beautiful genuine appreciation of nature and a sense of her being 'at one'.

Drinking Song - James Kenneth Stephen

There are people, I know, to be found,

Who say, and apparently think,

That sorrow and care may be drowned

By a timely consumption of drink.

Does not man, these enthusiasts ask,

Most nearly approach the divine,

When engaged in the soul-stirring task

Of filling his body with wine?

Have not beggars been frequently known,

When satisfied, soaked, and replete,

To imagine their bench was a throne

And the civilised world at their feet?

Lord Byron has finely described

The remarkably soothing effect

Of liquor, profusely imbibed,

On a soul that is shattered and wrecked.

In short, if your body or mind

Or your soul or your purse come to grief,

You need only get drunk, and you'll find

Complete and immediate relief.

For myself, I have managed to do

Without having recourse to this plan,

So I can't write a poem for you,

And you'd better get someone who can.

- I love how Stephen observes the changes that take place when people drink - beggars believe their bench is a throne, a shattered soul becomes enlightened by the profound effect of alcohol. I percieve the ending as quite witty - he is being sarcastic saying he hasn't had to resort to drink therefore he cannot be as profound and insightful as someone who drinks...yet he wrote the poem!

Vitae summa brevis spem nos vetat incohare longam - Ernest Dowson

They are not long, the weeping and the laughter,

Love and desire and hate:

I think they have no portion in us after

We pass the gate.

They are not long, the days of wine and roses:

Out of a misty dream

Our path emerges for a while, then closes

Within a dream.

- The title translated is "The brief sum of life forbids us the hope of enduring long". I'm into all different kinds of poetry for all different kinds of reasons. I will always feel compelled to add poetry which deals with the issues of life and death - especially those which highlight that life is just too short.

The Golden Rules of Conduct - William Shakespeare

Give thy thoughts no tongue,

Nor any unproportion'd thought his act.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar.

Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tries,

Grapple them to thy soul with hopes of steel;

But do not dull thy palm with entertainment

Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrade. Beware

Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in,

Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee,

Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice:

Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment.

Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy,

But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy;

For the apparel oft proclaims the man,

And they in France of the best rank and station

Are most select and generous thief in that.

Neither a borrower nor a lender be;

For loan oft loses both itself and friend,

And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry.

This above all: to thine own self be true.

And it must follow, as the night the day,

Thou canst not then be false to any man.

- This monologue is taken from Hamlet. In my opinion it could almost be the original version of 'If' by Kipling. It carries strong messages about the ways in which one should live life. I love "This above all: to thine own self be true" - I believe as long as you are true to yourself you can't go wrong or be false to anyone else.

Poetry - Pablo Neruda

And it was at that age ... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent firesor returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names,
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire,
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating plantations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, infinitesimal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke loose on the wind.

- I only need one word to describe how I feel about this poem...GENIUS!