case: (Default)
Case ([personal profile] case) wrote in [community profile] fandomsecrets2013-06-18 06:48 pm

[ SECRET POST #2359 ]


⌈ Secret Post #2359 ⌋

Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.

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Notes:

Secrets Left to Post: 03 pages, 066 secrets from Secret Submission Post #336.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 0 - broken links ], [ 1 - not!secrets ], [ 1 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 0 - repeat ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.
(deleted comment)
ext_442164: Colourful balloons (Default)

Re: The Poetry Thread: Share your favourite poems

[identity profile] with-rainfall.livejournal.com 2013-06-19 04:31 am (UTC)(link)
Right, let's try again and see if I can actually transcribe it right this time (can't delete my other comment for some reason):

Definition of Loving - Bruce Dawe

Thank you for love, no matter what its outcome,
that leads us to the window in the dark,
that adds another otherness to others,
that holds out stars as if they were first diamonds
found in a mine that had been long closed down,
that hands out suns and makes us ask each morning:
What else do we need, picnickers in time?
Thank you for love that does not hang on answers,
that says, 'Enough's enough, to love is plenty...'
- by such signs do we know the world exists.
Amo ergo sum, thank you for that.
The miles, the years, the lives that lie between
- they always lay there, and they always will,
but look, the loved one spans that dizzy distance
by the act of being, and we lovers turn
our faces steadily thou-wards as a field
of sunflowers like a tracking station turns,
charting its meaning by the westering sun.

----

That can be found in Sometimes Gladness, which I highly recoomend if you have cash to spare.
crazed_delusion: (Default)

Re: The Poetry Thread: Share your favourite poems

[personal profile] crazed_delusion 2013-06-19 06:00 am (UTC)(link)
Always my fav for ages


The Fairies

by

William Allingham

Up the airy mountain
Down the rushy glen,
We dare n't go a-hunting,
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl's feather.
Down along the rocky shore
Some make their home,
They live on crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
Of the black mountain-lake,
With frogs for their watch-dogs,
All night awake.
High on the hill-top
The old King sits;
He is now so old and gray
He's nigh lost his wits.
With a bridge of white mist
Columbkill he crosses,
On his stately journeys
From Slieveleague to Rosses;
Or going up with music,
On cold starry nights,
To sup with the Queen,
Of the gay Northern Lights.
They stole little Bridget
For seven years long;
When she came down again
Her friends were all gone.
They took her lightly back
Between the night and morrow;
They thought she was fast asleep,
But she was dead with sorrow.
They have kept her ever since
Deep within the lake,
On a bed of flag leaves,
Watching till she wake.
By the craggy hill-side,
Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn trees
For pleasure here and there.
Is any man so daring
As dig them up in spite?
He shall find the thornies set
In his bed at night.
Up the airy mountain
Down the rushy glen,
We dare n't go a-hunting,
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl's feather.

The correct coding for it can be seen HERE

Re: The Poetry Thread: Share your favourite poems

(Anonymous) 2013-06-19 07:01 am (UTC)(link)
that's very lovely, i'll have to check more of his stuff out

I Ask My Mother To Sing by Lee-Young Li

She begins, and my grandmother joins her.
Mother and daughter sing like young girls.
If my father were alive, he would play
his accordion and sway like a boat.

I've never been in Peking, or the Summer Palace,
nor stood on the great Stone Boat to watch
the rain begin on Kuen Ming Lake, the picnickers
running away in the grass.

But I love to hear it sung;
how the waterlilies fill with rain until
they overturn, spilling water into water,
then rock back, and fill with more,

Both women have begun to cry.
But neither stops her song.

---

all of his poems are so down to earth and intimate, softly spoken, but by the end i always feel punched in the heart

Re: The Poetry Thread: Share your favourite poems

(Anonymous) 2013-06-19 09:09 pm (UTC)(link)
that's very pretty, thanks for the rec
enigmasphinx: (Default)

Re: The Poetry Thread: Share your favourite poems

[personal profile] enigmasphinx 2013-06-19 07:41 am (UTC)(link)
The Fat Man's Prayer

Lord, my soul is ripped with riot,
Incited by my wicked diet.
We are what we eat, said a wise old man,
And Lord, if that's true, I'm a garbage can!
I want to rise on Judgment Day, that's plain,
But at my present weight, I'll need a crane!

So grant me strength that I may not fall
Into the clutches of cholesterol.
May my flesh with carrot curls be sated
That my soul may be polyunsaturated.
And show me the light that I may bear witness
To the President's Council on Physical Fitness.

At oleomargarine I'll never mutter,
For the road to hell is spread with butter.
And cake is cursed, and cream is awful,
And Satan is hiding in every waffle.
Mephistopheles lurks in provolone,
The devil is in each slice of bologna,
Beelzebub is a chocolate drop,
And Lucifer is a lollipop!

Give me this day my daily slice -
But cut it thin and toast it twice.
I beg upon my dimpled knees,
Deliver me from Jujubees.
Andm when my days of trial are done
And my war with malted milk is won,
Let me stand with the saints in heaven
In a shining robe - Size 37!

I can do it, Lord, if you'll show to me
The virtues of lettuce and celery.
If you'll teach me the evils of mayonnaise,
The sinfulness of hollandaise
And pasta a la milanese
And potatoes a la lyonaise
And crisp fried chicken from the south!
Lord, if you love me, SHUT MY MOUTH!

by Victor Buono, a wonderful actor and comedian who is still missed.
ryttu3k: (Default)

Re: The Poetry Thread: Share your favourite poems

[personal profile] ryttu3k 2013-06-19 09:14 am (UTC)(link)
Prufrock! It's a bit long to post on its own, so I'll just post my favourite parts -

There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.


Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.


(If I ever got a word tattoo, it'd be, "Do I dare disturb the universe?")

Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: "I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all"


And for a bonus, I LOVE the last stanzas of Preludes:

I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.

Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.

Re: The Poetry Thread: Share your favourite poems

(Anonymous) 2013-06-20 03:36 am (UTC)(link)
Thanks for this. I considered posting it myself but chickened out. :/ I've loved this particular poem for ages.

My favorite part, the one that gives me the most wistful, longing feelings is

...I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Re: The Poetry Thread: Share your favourite poems

(Anonymous) 2013-06-19 07:41 pm (UTC)(link)
The Cycle--Theodore Roethke

Dark water underground
Beneath the rock and clay
Beneath the roots of trees
Moved into common day
Rose from a mossy mound
In mist that sun could seize.

The fine rain coiled in a cloud
Turned by revolving air
Far from that colder source
Where elements cohere,
Dense in the central stone.
The air grew loose and loud.

Then with diminished force
The full rain fell straight down
Tunneled with lapsing sound
Under even the rock-shut ground
Under a river's source
Under primeval stone.