Poems

Share poetry here. Stuff you wrote or like. Preferably don’t share poetry you don’t like.

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First Poem for a New Year

This is the year I stop dying
No more swearing/No more lying
Church every Sunday and Mosque every Friday
Any religious observance to halt bodily decay

Need to cut out the edibles and drinking
No more negative overanalyzed thinking
Time to adjust my mentality
To an enlightened immortality

I’ll only eat iceberg or romaine or chard
That’s been ethically sourced from my backyard
My bread will be made with ancient grains
I’ve heard that’s good for never-dying brains

I’ll workout each morning/sleep eight hours each night
I’ll never expose my eyes to artificial blue light
No social media, heck, no phone at all
This is how you cause death to stall

In the future where I’m still alive
In year three-thousand-thirty-five
I’ll read my very old diary
To remember what life was like in twenty-twenty-three

I’ll laugh over my written fear of death
Giggle at the anxiety caused by my last breath
But for now, I admit, it remains a fear
Good thing I stop dying this year

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One of my favorites.

From Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre (Goethe)

Kennst du das Land? wo die Citronen blühn,
Im dunkeln Laub die Gold-Orangen glühn,
Ein sanfter Wind vom blauen Himmel weht,
Die Myrte still und hoch der Lorbeer steht,
Kennst du es wohl?
Dahin! Dahin
Möcht’ ich mit dir, o mein Geliebter, ziehn.

Kennst du das Haus? Auf Säulen ruht sein Dach,
Es glänzt der Saal, es schimmert das Gemach,
Und Marmorbilder stehn und sehn mich an:
Was hat man Dir, du armes Kind, gethan?
Kennst du es wohl?
Dahin! Dahin
Möcht’ ich mit dir, o mein Beschützer, ziehn.

Kennst du den Berg und seinen Wolkensteg?
Das Maulthier sucht im Nebel seinen Weg;
In Höhlen wohnt der Drachen alte Brut;
Es stürzt der Fels und über ihn die Flut.
Kennst du ihn wohl?
Dahin! Dahin
Geht unser Weg! o Vater, laß uns ziehn!

There are also many, many settings of this poem in music, but I think my favorite is from Mark Adamo’s Little Women opera.

A cleaner recording, but just with piano:

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(Untitled) - Alex Aubrey

i am slowly learning
how to just be in this moment
how to exist
how to understand that
i cannot control everything
i can only experience
all the good and all the good
some i will laugh at
some i will cry through
some i will be confused
some i will adore
i am slowly learning
to welcome it all
and to accept
myself

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I have so many favorite poems…

Let’s start with the one that started my love for poetry, when we had to memorize a poem of our choosing in school:

Rainer Maria Rilke

Der Panther

Sein Blick ist vom Vorübergehn der Stäbe
so müd geworden, daß er nichts mehr hält.
Ihm ist, als ob es tausend Stäbe gäbe
und hinter tausend Stäben keine Welt.

Der weiche Gang geschmeidig starker Schritte,
der sich im allerkleinsten Kreise dreht,
ist wie ein Tanz von Kraft um eine Mitte,
in der betäubt ein großer Wille steht.

Nur manchmal schiebt der Vorhang der Pupille
sich lautlos auf -. Dann geht ein Bild hinein,
geht durch der Glieder angespannte Stille -
und hört im Herzen auf zu sein.

English translations: The Panther (poem) - Wikipedia
I like the one of Stanley Appelbaum best, because for me it keeps the flow of the words very close to the original and that smooth flow mimics the movement of the panther.

And the one that opened up the world of English poetry for me, when I read it on the first page of a cozy detective story (I have forgotten which book it was) I tried to read for school to get a better grade in English, because I completely failed a grammar test.

Robert Frost

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

And the one that will never not make me smile and so on:

Christian Morgenstern

Screenshot 2024-01-02 at 12-25-52 Babel Web Anthology Morgenstern Christian The Funnels (2) (Die Trichter in English)

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A Haiku for January 2nd

Resolutions broke
Champagne stains on the carpet
Better luck next year

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I Want a President (Zoe Leonard)

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Nothing has solidified my belief in the final lines of this poem than America’s inability to prosecute Trump

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