Poezia

[Gaandalf]

damn...cat-a roman a scris jackpot...abia acuma vad
dar sa stii ca nu-i rea

m-au durut ochii doar cat am dat scroll down ... apoi sa ma citesc shi poezia de pe calculator ... nu-i problema PRINTTTTT.

[jackpot]

Afarã ninge prãpãdind,
Iubita cântã la clavir, --
Si târgul stã întunecat,
De parcã ninge-n cimitir.

Iubita cântã-un mars funebru,
iar eu nedumerit mã mir :
De ce sã cânte-un mars funebru...
Si ninge ca-ntr-un cimitir.

Ea plânge si-a cazut pe clape,
Si geme greu ca în delir...
În dezacord clavirul moare,
Si ninge ca-ntr-un cimitir.

Si plâng si eu si tremurând
Pe umeri pletele-i resfir...
Afarã târgul stã pustiu,
Si ninge ca-ntr-un cimitir.

[WraIth]

mai kacpot mai.....tu de unde iei asha poezii
nu-mi spune ca din cap....
ninge in cimitir:huh:

cine scria ceva de genu'asta...cum il cheama-ceva cu un abator,cu sange,nush ce
a da bacovia

[Gaandalf]

shtiu ca nu are leg. cu poezia dar Cioran mi se pare cel mai tare pesimist ... akolo deprimare nu la Bacovia...

A friend

A friend is what i thought i had a while ago
A friend is what i thought he was
A friend in need, a friend in sorrow and in pain,
A friend the way i thought a friend is like
A friend who smiles and laughs
When i am falling ...
A friend no more, a substitute.

[keyzer soze]

Mircea Cãrtãrescu

Dã lãbuþa (vei da ºi boticul)

Cri, dã-mi mânuþa ºi fii atentã:
e toamnã arborescentã
ºi nori în amestec cu stele
curg peste autoturismele de pe ºosele.
prin toamnã priveºti ca prin rigla de plastic
din clasa-ntâia: fantastic
se vedea-nvãþãtoarea ocolitã de curcubeu.

trãim într-un televizor color
cu sonorul dat încetiºor...
în culori peruzea, lila, ecosez
zâmbim obraz lângã obraz, împreunã
ca Frank Sinatra ºi Joan Baez
sau ca doi hamsteri sub un clar de luna.
Cri a mea, Cri
cu tâmplele sidefii.

mi-au cam ieºit fumurile de celebritate din cap
ºi viaþa literarã mi se pare mai departe decât insulele Malvine
ºi fâºnetele de pe stradã mi se par pure obiecte estetice...
nu îmi mai decupez cronicile din reviste,
nu mai "acord" interviuri:
tot ce a fost genialoid în mine mã face acum sã zâmbesc.
ºtii cât mã obseda structura materiei? cât îl iubeam pe Dylan Thomas?
ºtii cum plângeam ascultând "E perfect, mamã"?
acum mentalitatea mea de producãtor s-a transformat într-una de
consumator
ºi nu mai simt nevoia sã-mi cultiv obsesiile,
sã-mi întreþin nefericirea.
visãtoria mea tristã s-a resorbit
acum, când ai rãsãrit
deasupra mea, cu neoane curbe, de curcubeu.

Cri, dragã eu.

trec autoturisme absente
pe ºosele fluorescente.
va veni spic de zãpadã
ºi va fi altfel coloratã fiecare piatrã de pe stradã
o sã viscoleascã peste parbrize, capote
iar noi, sub plapuma de satin
vom citi la caldurã Truman Capote
în miros de scorþiºoarã ºi vin.

în televizorul color
cu sonorul dat încetiºor
din pãrul tãu oricare fir, ºuviþã ºi franj
va fi dublat cu frez, ciclamen ºi oranj
(culorile nefiind bine reglate),
Cri a mea cu tâmple perlate.

ºtiu acum cã viaþa exista ca sã fie trãitã
asta înveþi de fapt de la o femeie: cã nu eºti nemuritor
cã nu eºti tot una cu universul chiar dacã eºti un mic univers.
ºtiu acum cã nici un poem nu a schimbat viaþa nimãnui.

dã lãbuþa (vei da ºi boticul)
toamna îºi agaþã baticul
în pomii turcoaz.

noi hoinãrim prin fototapetul cu frunze gãlbui ºi cer de atlaz.

[jackpot]

mai kacpot mai.....tu de unde iei asha poezii
nu-mi spune ca din cap....
ninge in cimitir:huh:

cine scria ceva de genu'asta...cum il cheama-ceva cu un abator,cu sange,nush ce
a da bacovia

Da el e si pe deasupra lumea il alinta Jackpot.
Dar hai sa recunoastem toti stim poezia cu Copy-Paste nu?
Ca doar nu ne-am facut poeti peste noapte nu?

[WraIth]

eram grabit jack

ma gandeam shi eu......cunosc cativa care scriu ei pesonal de aia

[jackpot]

The happiest day- the happiest hour
My sear'd and blighted heart hath known,
The highest hope of pride and power,
I feel hath flown.
Of power! said I? yes! such I ween;
But they have vanish'd long, alas!
The visions of my youth have been-
But let them pass.

And, pride, what have I now with thee?
Another brow may even inherit
The venom thou hast pour'd on me
Be still, my spirit!

The happiest day- the happiest hour
Mine eyes shall see- have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel- have been:

But were that hope of pride and power
Now offer'd with the pain
Even then I felt- that brightest hour
I would not live again:

For on its wing was dark alloy,
And, as it flutter'd- fell
An essence- powerful to destroy
A soul that knew it well.

[BeNnY]

mai kacpot mai.....tu de unde iei asha poezii
nu-mi spune ca din cap....
ninge in cimitir:huh:

cine scria ceva de genu'asta...cum il cheama-ceva cu un abator,cu sange,nush ce
a da bacovia

Nu inteleg, poezia trebuie sa fie roz?

[WraIth]

Nu fara nici o indoiala..nu-mi prea place pozia,dar nici nu ashi citi prea exagerat

am dat peste unele care era de-a dreptul aiurite shi sadice pe deasupra
damn bine ca nu am asah ceva

[jackpot]

So sweet the hour, so calm the time,
I feel it more than half a crime,
When Nature sleeps and stars are mute,
To mar the silence ev'n with lute.
At rest on ocean's brilliant dyes
An image of Elysium lies:
Seven Pleiades entranced in Heaven,
Form in the deep another seven:
Endymion nodding from above
Sees in the sea a second love.
Within the valleys dim and brown,
And on the spectral mountain's crown,
The wearied light is dying down,
And earth, and stars, and sea, and sky
Are redolent of sleep, as I
Am redolent of thee and thine
Enthralling love, my Adeline.
But list, O list,- so soft and low
Thy lover's voice tonight shall flow,
That, scarce awake, thy soul shall deem
My words the music of a dream.
Thus, while no single sound too rude
Upon thy slumber shall intrude,
Our thoughts, our souls- O God above!
In every deed shall mingle, love.

[BeNnY]

Jackpot mareste-ti numarul de mesaje in alta parte te rog. Thx

[keyzer soze]

Allen Ginsberg - Ballad Of The Skeletons

Said the Presidential Skeleton
I won't sign the bill
Said the Speaker skeleton
Yes you will

Said the Representative Skeleton
I object
Said the Supreme Court skeleton
Whaddya expect

Said the Miltary skeleton
Buy Star Bombs
Said the Upperclass Skeleton
Starve unmarried moms

Said the Yahoo Skeleton
Stop dirty art
Said the Right Wing skeleton
Forget about yr heart

Said the Gnostic Skeleton
The Human Form's divine
Said the Moral Majority skeleton
No it's not it's mine

Said the Buddha Skeleton
Compassion is wealth
Said the Corporate skeleton
It's bad for your health

Said the Old Christ skeleton
Care for the Poor
Said the Son of God skeleton
AIDS needs cure

Said the Homophobe skeleton
Gay folk suck
Said the Heritage Policy skeleton
Blacks're outa luck

Said the Macho skeleton
Women in their place
Said the Fundamentalist skeleton
Increase human race

Said the Right-to-Life skeleton
Foetus has a soul
Said Pro Choice skeleton
Shove it up your hole

Said the Downsized skeleton
Robots got my job
Said the Tough-on-Crime skeleton
Tear gas the mob

Said the Governor skeleton
Cut school lunch
Said the Mayor skeleton
Eat the budget crunch

Said the Neo Conservative skeleton
Homeless off the street!
Said the Free Market skeleton
Use 'em up for meat

Said the Think Tank skeleton
Free Market's the way
Said the Saving & Loan skeleton
Make the State pay

Said the Chrysler skeleton
Pay for you & me
Said the Nuke Power skeleton
& me & me & me

Said the Ecologic skeleton
Keep Skies blue
Said the Multinational skeleton
What's it worth to you?

Said the NAFTA skeleton
Get rich, Free Trade,
Said the Maquiladora skeleton
Sweat shops, low paid

Said the rich GATT skeleton
One world, high tech
Said the Underclass skeleton
Get it in the neck

Said the World Bank skeleton
Cut down your trees
Said the I.M.F. skeleton
Buy American cheese

Said the Underdeveloped skeleton
We want rice
Said Developed Nations' skeleton
Sell your bones for dice

Said the Ayatollah skeleton
Die writer die
Said Joe Stalin's skeleton
That's no lie

Said the Middle Kingdom skeleton
We swallowed Tibet
Said the Dalai Lama skeleton
Indigestion's whatcha get


Said the World Chorus skeleton
That's their fate
Said the U.S.A. skeleton
Gotta save Kuwait

Said the Petrochemical skeleton
Roar Bombers roar!
Said the Psychedelic skeleton
Smoke a dinosaur

Said Nancy's skeleton
Just say No
Said the Rasta skeleton
Blow Nancy Blow

Said Demagogue skeleton
Don't smoke Pot
Said Alcoholic skeleton
Let your liver rot

Said the Junkie skeleton
Can't we get a fix?
Said the Big Brother skeleton
Jail the dirty pricks

Said the Mirror skeleton
Hey good looking
Said the Electric Chair skeleton
Hey what's cooking?

Said the Talkshow skeleton
Fuck you in the face
Said the Family Values skeleton
My family values mace

Said the NY Times skeleton
That's not fit to print
Said the CIA skeleton
Cantcha take a hint?

Said the Network skeleton
Believe my lies
Said the Advertising skeleton
Don't get wise!

Said the Media skeleton
Believe you me
Said the Couch-potato skeleton
What me worry?

Said the TV skeleton
Eat sound bites
Said the Newscast skeleton
That's all Goodnight

[jackpot]

In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace-
Radiant palace- reared its head.
In the monarch Thought's dominion-
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair!
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow,
(This- all this- was in the olden
Time long ago,)
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A winged odor went away.

Wanderers in that happy valley,
Through two luminous windows, saw
Spirits moving musically,
To a lute's well-tuned law,
Round about a throne where, sitting
(Porphyrogene!)
In state his glory well-befitting,
The ruler of the realm was seen.

And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,
And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
Was but to sing,
In voices of surpassing beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their king.

But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch's high estate.
(Ah, let us mourn!- for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him desolate!)
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.

And travellers, now, within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms, that move fantastically
To a discordant melody,
While, like a ghastly rapid river,
Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever
And laugh- but smile no more.

[Gaandalf]

Jackpot mareste-ti numarul de mesaje in alta parte te rog. Thx

cel mai recent film vizionat ? - Look who's talking ...
yawn!

crystal white

out the window
snow is falling . . .
white everywhere I look

the howling of a wolf
late at night . . .
I spring up awake

headless snowman . . .
the only snow left
in the schoolyard

the warm barn . . .
cows mooing
chomping their cuds of hay

power out . . .
the flickering of the candle
in the kitchen

the igloo is melting . . .
snow falls off
the white tree tops

so sad, so blue
no white could confort me
the end of winter

[BeNnY]

cel mai recent film vizionat ? - Look who's talking ...
yawn!

Si ce gasesc acolo? Leon 9/10 asta e spam? Vezi la acum pe ecrane

[ogto]

Poezia mea:

"Credeam C-o Vad Venind...
Dar N-a venit."

:happy:

Eminescu, Move over buddie :sleep:

[jackpot]

In Heaven a spirit doth dwell
"Whose heart-strings are a lute";
None sing so wildly well
As the angel Israfel,
And the giddy stars (so legends tell),
Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell
Of his voice, all mute.

Tottering above
In her highest noon,
The enamored moon
Blushes with love,
While, to listen, the red levin
(With the rapid Pleiads, even,
Which were seven,)
Pauses in Heaven.

And they say (the starry choir
And the other listening things)
That Israfeli's fire
Is owing to that lyre
By which he sits and sings-
The trembling living wire
Of those unusual strings.

But the skies that angel trod,
Where deep thoughts are a duty-
Where Love's a grown-up God-
Where the Houri glances are
Imbued with all the beauty
Which we worship in a star.

Therefore thou art not wrong,
Israfeli, who despisest
An unimpassioned song;
To thee the laurels belong,
Best bard, because the wisest!
Merrily live, and long!

The ecstasies above
With thy burning measures suit-
Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love,
With the fervor of thy lute-
Well may the stars be mute!

Yes, Heaven is thine; but this
Is a world of sweets and sours;
Our flowers are merely- flowers,
And the shadow of thy perfect bliss
Is the sunshine of ours.

If I could dwell
Where Israfel
Hath dwelt, and he where I,
He might not sing so wildly well
A mortal melody,
While a bolder note than this might swell
From my lyre within the sky.

[lynx]

Am inteles ca se poate si in romana!

ULTIMUL, ULTIMA

Ultimul poet va scrie ultima poezie
Cu unghia,
Pe o halcã de slãninã.

Noi doi putem sta linistiti, porcule,
ªirul poetilor de dupã mine se stinge hãt dupa orizont
ªi tu nu esti ultimul porc
Ce aþine calea unui poet.

Uite, a mai cazut o stea -
S-a mai dus un poet,
A mai cãzut o ghindã -
Se mai ingraºã un porc.

[BeNnY]

Poezia mea:

"Credeam C-o Vad Venind...
Dar N-a venit."

:happy:

Eminescu, Move over buddie :sleep:

:o