Ah, poetry: perhaps one of the cheesiest methods for declarations of love since the beginning of time.
It is also for the romantic souls who truly believe that "the world will be as one" if we all join together in song and soulful recitation.
I am one of those souls qui aiment la poésie. It might be a bit odd of me, but I relish the sad poems that give me goosebumps and cause some serious sniffle action. Since I am feeling french today, I decided to look up some french poésies. And this is what I found, by Victor Hugo:
Demain dès l'aube
Demain, dès l'aube, à l'heure où blanchit la campagne,
Je partirai. Vois-tu, je sais que tu m'attends.
J'irai par la forêt, j'irai par la montagne.
Je ne puis demeurer loin de toi plus longtemps.
Je marcherai les yeux fixés sur mes pensées,
Sans rien voir au dehors, sans entendre aucun bruit,
Seul, inconnu, le dos courbé, les mains croisées,
Triste, et le jour pour moi sera comme la nuit.
Je ne regarderai ni l'or du soir qui tombe,
Ni les voiles au loin descendant vers Harfleur,
Et quand j'arriverai, je mettrai sur ta tombe
Un bouquet de houx vert et de bruyère en fleur.
Translated into english:
Tomorrow at Dawn
Tomorrow, at dawn, at the hour when the countryside becomes pale with snow,
I will leave. You see, I know that you are waiting for me.
I will go by the forest, I will go by the mountain.
I cannot stay far from you any longer.
I will walk with my eyes fixed on my thoughts,
Without seeing anything outside, without hearing any noise,
Alone, unknown, back curved, hands crossed,
Sad, and the day for me will be like the night.
I will not look at the gold of the evening which falls,
Nor the faraway sails descending towards Harfleur.
And when I arrive, I will put on your tomb
A green bouquet of holly and flowering heather.
This gives me shivers. I just adore this poem. Je l'adore.
Lyrical poetry is one of my favourite types of poetry. Some (most) of my favourite songs are ballads. The poetry truly comes alive for me when it is expressed in song. This is from the movie Anastasia:
Once Upon a December
Dancing bears
Painted wings
Things I almost remember,
And a song someone sings
once upon a december
Someone holds me safe and warm,
horses prance through a silver storm,
Figures dancing gracefully,
across my memory
Painted wings
Things I almost remember,
And a song someone sings
once upon a december
Someone holds me safe and warm,
horses prance through a silver storm,
Figures dancing gracefully,
across my memory
Check it out with the music: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r1zamKoUREI
In regards to writing poetry: I do indeed try out a few phrases here and there that I consider decently worthy (and by that I mean nothing that will make any sane, literate person cringe in agony). But I'm not about to go posting it to the world wide web, that's for sure (sheesh, what do you take me for? an idiot and/or braggart I am not)!
We were asked next to read the following poem by Amanda Jernigan:
Bats
They billow from a hillside in Cha’am.
Together, they are more than plural:
the planet’s darkest song, a tongue,
a serpent muscling air apart,
a dire banner come unfurled,
a river flowing wholly from
the old, mute mountain’s desperate heart,
the last confession of the world.
Conceive of each one singly, if you can.
Together, they are more than plural:
the planet’s darkest song, a tongue,
a serpent muscling air apart,
a dire banner come unfurled,
a river flowing wholly from
the old, mute mountain’s desperate heart,
the last confession of the world.
Conceive of each one singly, if you can.
I love this poem! The whole poem has some great imagery. I love the vocabulary administered, like the use of "Cha'am" and "muscling". The phrase "a serpent muscling air apart" flows easily and gives the reader an image to ponder. I admire the phrase, "Conceive of each one singly." This is phenomenal. I imagine a crooked finger beckoning.I also like that she threw down the gauntlet at the end of her poem, making the reader want to understand what the heck they just read.
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