poems of interest

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poems of interest

Post by victorismyhero on Sat Nov 12, 2011 10:52 pm

Tought i'd start this for anyone who has a poem they find interesting, or has a meaning for them, or they find just compelling

thought I'd start it with a repost of the one I put on the "If there were " thread

Hangman
by Maurice Ogden
1.
Into our town the Hangman came,
Smelling of gold and blood and flame.
And he paced our bricks with a diffident air,
And built his frame in the courthouse square.

The scaffold stood by the courthouse side,
Only as wide as the door was wide;
A frame as tall, or little more,
Than the capping sill of the courthouse door.

And we wondered, whenever we had the time,
Who the criminal, what the crime
That the Hangman judged with the yellow twist
of knotted hemp in his busy fist.

And innocent though we were, with dread,
We passed those eyes of buckshot lead --
Till one cried: "Hangman, who is he
For whom you raised the gallows-tree?"

Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
And he gave us a riddle instead of reply:
"He who serves me best," said he,
"Shall earn the rope of the gallows-tree."

And he stepped down, and laid his hand
On a man who came from another land.
And we breathed again, for another's grief
At the Hangman's hand was our relief

And the gallows-frame on the courthouse lawn
By tomorrow's sun would be struck and gone.
So we gave him way, and no one spoke,
Out of respect for his Hangman's cloak.

2.
The next day's sun looked mildly down
On roof and street in our quiet town,
And stark and black in the morning air
Was the gallows-tree in the courthouse square.

And the Hangman stood at his usual stand
With the yellow hemp in his busy hand;
With his buckshot eye and his jaw like a pike
And his air so knowing and business-like.

And we cried, "Hangman, have you not done
Yesterday, with the foreign one?"
Then we fell silent, and stood amazed,
"Oh, not for him was the gallows raised."

He laughed a laugh as he looked at us:
"Did you think I'd gone to all this fuss
To hang one man? That's a thing I do
To stretch a rope when the rope is new."

Then one cried "Murder!" and one cried "Shame!"
And into our midst the Hangman came
To that man's place. "Do you hold," said he,
"with him that was meant for the gallows-tree?"

And he laid his hand on that one's arm.
And we shrank back in quick alarm!
And we gave him way, and no one spoke
Out of fear of his Hangman's cloak.

That night we saw with dread surprise
The Hangman's scaffold had grown in size.
Fed by the blood beneath the chute,
The gallows-tree had taken root;

Now as wide, or a little more,
Than the steps that led to the courthouse door,
As tall as the writing, or nearly as tall,
Halfway up on the courthouse wall.

3.
The third he took -- we had all heard tell --
Was a usurer, and an infidel.
"What," said the Hangman "have you to do
With the gallows-bound, and he a Jew?"

And we cried out, "Is this one he
Who has served you well and faithfully?"
The Hangman smiled: "It's a clever scheme
to try the strength of the gallows-beam."

The fourth man's dark, accusing song
Had scratched our comfort hard and long;
"And what concern," he gave us back.
"Have you for the doomed -- the doomed and Black?"

The fifth. The sixth. And we cried again,
"Hangman, Hangman, is this the man?"
"It's a trick," he said. "that we hangmen know
For easing the trap when the trap springs slow."

And so we ceased, and asked no more,
As the Hangman tallied his bloody score.
And sun by sun, and night by night,
The gallows grew to monstrous height.

The wings of the scaffold opened wide
Till they covered the square from side to side;
And the monster cross-beam, looking down,
Cast its shadow across the town.

4.
Then through the town the Hangman came,
Through the empty streets, and called my name --
And I looked at the gallows soaring tall,
And thought, "There is no one left at all

For hanging, and so he calls to me
To help pull down the gallows-tree."
So I went out with right good hope
To the Hangman's tree and the Hangman's rope.

He smiled at me as I came down
To the courthouse square through the silent town.
And supple and stretched in his busy hand
Was the yellow twist of the hempen strand.

And he whistled his tune as he tried the trap,
And it sprang down with a ready snap --
And then with a smile of awful command
He laid his hand upon my hand.

"You tricked me. Hangman!," I shouted then,
"That your scaffold was built for other men...
And I no henchman of yours," I cried,
"You lied to me, Hangman. Foully lied!"

Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
"Lied to you? Tricked you?" he said. "Not I.
For I answered straight and I told you true --
The scaffold was raised for none but you.

For who has served me more faithfully
Then you with your coward's hope?" said he,
"And where are the others who might have stood
Side by your side in the common good?"

"Dead," I whispered. And amiably
"Murdered," the Hangman corrected me:
"First the foreigner, then the Jew...
I did no more than you let me do."

Beneath the beam that blocked the sky
None had stood so alone as I.
The Hangman noosed me, and no voice there
Cried "Stop!" for me in the empty square.


enough to make your hair stand on end........

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Re: poems of interest

Post by Guest on Sat Nov 12, 2011 10:56 pm

That really, really gives me the shivers!

This stuck in my head when I was young:

Young and Old

Charles Kingsley

When all the world is young, lad,
And all the trees are green;
And every goose a swan, lad,
And every lass a queen,—
Then hey for boot and horse, lad,
And round the world away;
Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day.

When all the world is old, lad,
And all the trees are brown;
And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down,—
Creep home, and take your place there,
The spent and maimed among:
God grant you find one face there
You loved when all was young.

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Re: poems of interest

Post by victorismyhero on Sat Nov 12, 2011 11:11 pm

There was a Boy whose name was Jim;
His Friends were very good to him.
They gave him Tea, and Cakes, and Jam,
And slices of delicious Ham,
And Chocolate with pink inside
And little Tricycles to ride,
And read him Stories through and through,
And even took him to the Zoo--
But there it was the dreadful Fate
Befell him, which I now relate.

You know--or at least you ought to know,
For I have often told you so--
That Children never are allowed
To leave their Nurses in a Crowd;
Now this was Jim's especial Foible,
He ran away when he was able,
And on this inauspicious day
He slipped his hand and ran away!

He hadn't gone a yard when--Bang!
With open Jaws, a lion sprang,
And hungrily began to eat
The Boy: beginning at his feet.
Now, just imagine how it feels
When first your toes and then your heels,
And then by gradual degrees,
Your shins and ankles, calves and knees,
Are slowly eaten, bit by bit.
No wonder Jim detested it!
No wonder that he shouted "Hi!"

The Honest Keeper heard his cry,
Though very fat he almost ran
To help the little gentleman.
"Ponto!" he ordered as he came
(For Ponto was the Lion's name),
"Ponto!" he cried, with angry Frown,
"Let go, Sir! Down, Sir! Put it down!"
The Lion made a sudden stop,
He let the Dainty Morsel drop,
And slunk reluctant to his Cage,
Snarling with Disappointed Rage.
But when he bent him over Jim,
The Honest Keeper's Eyes were dim.
The Lion having reached his Head,
The Miserable Boy was dead!

When Nurse informed his Parents, they
Were more Concerned than I can say:--
His Mother, as She dried her eyes,
Said, "Well--it gives me no surprise,
He would not do as he was told!"
His Father, who was self-controlled,
Bade all the children round attend
To James's miserable end,
And always keep a-hold of Nurse
For fear of finding something worse.
-- Hilaire Belloc




we were read this at 7 years old by our primary school teacher...If you did that today the teacher would get done for psychological abuse..... Rolling
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Re: poems of interest

Post by Guest on Sat Nov 12, 2011 11:17 pm

victorismyhero wrote:There was a Boy whose name was Jim;
His Friends were very good to him.
They gave him Tea, and Cakes, and Jam,
And slices of delicious Ham,
And Chocolate with pink inside
And little Tricycles to ride,
And read him Stories through and through,
And even took him to the Zoo--
But there it was the dreadful Fate
Befell him, which I now relate.

You know--or at least you ought to know,
For I have often told you so--
That Children never are allowed
To leave their Nurses in a Crowd;
Now this was Jim's especial Foible,
He ran away when he was able,
And on this inauspicious day
He slipped his hand and ran away!

He hadn't gone a yard when--Bang!
With open Jaws, a lion sprang,
And hungrily began to eat
The Boy: beginning at his feet.
Now, just imagine how it feels
When first your toes and then your heels,
And then by gradual degrees,
Your shins and ankles, calves and knees,
Are slowly eaten, bit by bit.
No wonder Jim detested it!
No wonder that he shouted "Hi!"

The Honest Keeper heard his cry,
Though very fat he almost ran
To help the little gentleman.
"Ponto!" he ordered as he came
(For Ponto was the Lion's name),
"Ponto!" he cried, with angry Frown,
"Let go, Sir! Down, Sir! Put it down!"
The Lion made a sudden stop,
He let the Dainty Morsel drop,
And slunk reluctant to his Cage,
Snarling with Disappointed Rage.
But when he bent him over Jim,
The Honest Keeper's Eyes were dim.
The Lion having reached his Head,
The Miserable Boy was dead!

When Nurse informed his Parents, they
Were more Concerned than I can say:--
His Mother, as She dried her eyes,
Said, "Well--it gives me no surprise,
He would not do as he was told!"
His Father, who was self-controlled,
Bade all the children round attend
To James's miserable end,
And always keep a-hold of Nurse
For fear of finding something worse.
-- Hilaire Belloc




we were read this at 7 years old by our primary school teacher...If you did that today the teacher would get done for psychological abuse..... Rolling

Thats a bit like The Lion and Albert, a monologue Stanley Holloway used to do, he could have been my grandad's twin!




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'The Lion and Albert'.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------







There's a famous seaside place called Blackpool, That's noted for fresh air and fun,
And Mr. and Mrs. Ramsbottom , Went there with young Albert, their son.
A grand little lad was young Albert, All dressed in his best;quite a swell,
With a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle, The finest that Woolworth's could sell.


They didn't think much to the Ocean: The waves, they was fiddlin' and small,
There was no wrecks and nobody drownded, Fact, nothing to laugh at at all.
So, seeking for further amusement, They paid and went into the Zoo,
Where they'd Lions and Tigers and Camels, And old ale and sandwiches too.


There were one great big Lion called Wallace; His nose were all covered with scars,
He lay in a somnolent posture, With the side of his face on the bars.
Now Albert had heard about Lions, How they was ferocious and wild,
To see Wallace lying so peaceful, Well, it didn't seem right to the child.


So straightway the brave little feller, Not showing a morsel of fear,
Took his stick with its 'orses 'ead 'andle And pushed it in Wallace's ear.
You could see that the Lion didn't like it, For giving a kind of a roll,
He pulled Albert inside the cage with 'im, And swallowed the little lad 'ole.


Then Pa, who had seen the occurrence, And didn't know what to do next,
Said " Mother! Yon Lion's 'et Albert," And Mother said " Well, I am vexed!"
Then Mr. and Mrs. Rarnsbottom, Quite rightly, when all's said and done,
Complained to the Animal Keeper, That the Lion had eaten their son.


The keeper was quite nice about it; He said " What a nasty mishap.
Are you sure that it's your boy he's eaten ? " Pa said "Am I sure ? There's his cap! "
The manager had to be sent for. He came and he said " What's to do ? "
Pa said " Yon Lion's 'et Albert, And 'im in his Sunday clothes, too."


Then Mother said, " Right's right, young feller; I think it's a shame and a sin,
For a lion to go and eat Albert, And after we've paid to come in."
Then off they went to the Police Station, In front of the Magistrate chap;
They told 'im what happened to Albert, And proved it by showing his cap.


The manager wanted no trouble, He took out his purse right away,
Saying " How much to settle the matter ? " And Pa said " What do you usually pay?"
But Mother had turned a bit awkward, When she thought where her Albert had gone.
She said " No ! someone's got to be summonsed", So that was decided upon.


The Magistrate gave his opinion That no one was really to blame,
And he said that he hoped the Ramsbottoms , Would have further sons to their name.
At that Mother got proper blazing, " And thank you, sir, kindly," said she.
" What, waste all our lives raising children, To feed ruddy Lions? Not me!"



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

'The Return of Albert'.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You've 'eard 'ow young Albert Ramsbottom, In the Zoo up at Blackpool one year,
With a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle, Gave a lion a poke in the ear.
The name of the lion was Wallace, The poke in the ear made 'im wild ;
And before you could say " Bob's your Uncle," 'E'd up and 'e'd swallered the child.
'E were sorry the moment 'e'd done it, With children 'e'd always been chums,
And besides, 'e'd no teeth in 'is noddle, And 'e couldn't chew Albert on t' gums.
'E could feel the lad moving inside 'im, As 'e lay on 'is bed of dried ferns,
And it might 'ave been little lad's birthday, 'E wished 'im such 'appy returns.

But Albert kept kicking and fighting, Till Wallace arose feeling bad,
And felt it were time that 'e started to stage A come-back for the lad.
So with 'is 'ead down in a corner, On 'is front paws 'e started to walk,
And 'e coughed and 'e sneezed and 'e gargled, Till Albert shot out like a cork.



Old Wallace felt better direc'ly, And 'is figure once more became lean,
But the only difference with Albert Was 'is face and 'is 'ands were quite clean.
Meanwhile Mister and Missus Ramsbottom 'Ad gone 'ome to tea feeling blue ;
Ma says " I feel down in the mouth like," Pa says " Aye! I bet Albert does too."

Said Ma " It just goes for to show yer That the future is never revealed,
If I thought we was going to lose 'im I'd 'ave not 'ad 'is boots soled and 'eeled."
" Let's look on the bright side," said Father, " What can't be 'elped must be endured,
Every cloud 'as a silvery lining, And we did 'ave young Albert insured."

A knock at the door came that moment As Father these kind words did speak,
'Twas the man from t' Prudential, E'd called for their " tuppence per person per week."
When Father saw who 'ad been knocking, 'E laughed and 'e kept laughing so,
That the young man said " What's there to laugh at ?" Pa said " You'll laugh an' all when you know."



" Excuse 'im for laughing," said Mother, " But really things 'appen so strange,
Our Albert's been ate by a lion, You've got to pay us for a change."
Said the young feller from the Prudential, " Now, come come, let's understand this,
You don't mean to say that you've lost'im?" Ma says " Oh, no ! we know where 'e is."



Whentheyoung man 'ad 'eard all the details, A bag from 'is pocket he drew,
And 'e paid them, with int'rest and bonus, The sum of nine pounds four and two.
Pa 'ad scarce got 'is 'and on the money When a face at the window they see,
And Mother says " Eeh ! look, it's Albert," And Father says " Aye, it would be."

Young Albert came in all excited, And started 'is story to give,
And Pa says " I'll never trust lions again, Not as long as I live."
The young feller from the Prudential To pick up the money began,
And Father says " Eeh ! just a moment, Don't be in a hurry, young man."

Then giving young Albert a shilling, He said " Pop off back to the Zoo.
'Ere's yer stick with the 'orse's 'ead 'andle, Go and see what the Tigers can do ! "



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Re: poems of interest

Post by victorismyhero on Sun Nov 20, 2011 11:32 pm

Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass.

Take kindly to the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Max Ehrmann c.1920





What a way to live

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Re: poems of interest

Post by victorismyhero on Mon Nov 21, 2011 12:21 am

two links to the above with VERY different delivery

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HDHoflDhAOo&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GmHl0ZhhZLc&NR=1

I PARTICULARLY like the first its Australias Khamal...but ooooh...doesnt he sound like Sean Connery......even I find his voice sexy.... Embarassed
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Re: poems of interest

Post by Guest on Wed Nov 23, 2011 4:03 pm

victorismyhero wrote:Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant, they too have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass.

Take kindly to the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

Max Ehrmann c.1920

beautiful



What a way to live

i saw the thread and i thought i would post the only poem i knew but i see i was beaten to it
however the version i know is a little diferant and shorter

Go placidly amid the noise and haste and remember what peace there is in silence
do not distress your self with imaginings many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness
you are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars
be at peace with god whoever you consider that to be
and through the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your sole
it is still a beautiful world

i first saw the poem on a episode of the professionals in the 70s it was on a plaque on a mantel piece ,in a old house
i remember when i first saw it during the program it caught my eye and as it had been recorded on one of them new fan-geld video recorders
i went back and paused it at the correct place and wrote it down and i have never forgot it
i was told it was found on a grave stone in America some where but i never researched it (no inter web in those days )so it was quite nice to read the whole thing

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