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Author Topic: Love poems
CMOT Dibbler
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Babbler # 4117

posted 14 October 2005 06:17 PM      Profile for CMOT Dibbler     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
What happened to them? What happened to the sonnets celebrating women?

In the old days, men wrote eloquently about the physical attributes of the women in their lives. They compared them to a summer's day and insisted that there beauty could inspire them to burn down cities. That doesn't seem to happen anymore. Instead we get rap songs about "bitces and 'ho's" and self-indulgent, dities about petulant 15-year-old boys wishing they could get their girlfriends to come back to them.

There is nothing artistic or beutiful about these songs. Sting comes closest to writing quality love poetry, but the rest of the popular musical cannon really doesn't seem to celebrate women in any way. It just sits there, mocking the great masters like Shakespere and Shelley.

[ 14 October 2005: Message edited by: CMOT Dibbler ]

[ 14 October 2005: Message edited by: CMOT Dibbler ]


From: Just outside Fernie, British Columbia | Registered: May 2003  |  IP: Logged
skdadl
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Babbler # 478

posted 14 October 2005 06:31 PM      Profile for skdadl     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
CMOT, this is very dear of you. *heart*

Women have written great love poetry as well, y'know. Hopeless though men are, we seem doomed to go on giving them the benefit of the doubt.

I will come back tomorrow with love thoughts from women. But there is one wee stanza of one poem, by a man, that says everything I know about being in love.

quote:

Had we never loved sae kindly
Had we never loved sae blindly
Never kissed, and never parted
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

From: gone | Registered: May 2001  |  IP: Logged
'lance
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Babbler # 1064

posted 14 October 2005 06:36 PM      Profile for 'lance     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
quote:
Hopeless though men are, we seem doomed to go on giving them the benefit of the doubt.

Well, I can't speak for the -- ah, let me say the other men you've known, skdadl, but for myself, I resent this.

I'm quite hopeful, thank you very much.


From: that enchanted place on the top of the Forest | Registered: Jul 2001  |  IP: Logged
skdadl
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Babbler # 478

posted 14 October 2005 06:42 PM      Profile for skdadl     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
'lance: no offence meant.

But in response: "For God's sake hold your tongue and let me love ..."

You can look that up.

G'night.


From: gone | Registered: May 2001  |  IP: Logged
obscurantist
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Babbler # 8238

posted 14 October 2005 06:55 PM      Profile for obscurantist     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
Train in the Distance - Paul Simon

Dunno if it's his best, and it is a tad pessimistic, but it's the first one that comes to mind for me. And in the interests of balance, I'll find something by Aimee Mann as well after this.

quote:
She was beautiful as Southern skies
The night he met her
She was married to someone
He was doggedly determined that he would get her
He was old, he was young
From time to time he'd tip his heart
But each time she withdrew
Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance
Everybody thinks it's true

Well eventually the boy and the girl get married
Sure enough they have a son
And though they both were occupied
With the child she carried
Disagreements had begun
And in a while they fell apart
It wasn't hard to do
Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance
Everybody thinks it's true

Two disappointed believers
Two people playing the game
Negotiations and love songs
Are often mistaken for one and the same

Now the man and the woman
Remain in contact
Let us say it's for the child
With disagreements about the meaning
Of a marriage contract
Conversations hard and wild
But from time to time
He makes her laugh
She cooks a meal or two
Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance
Everybody thinks it's true
Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance
Everybody thinks it's true

What is the point of this story
What information pertains
The thought that life could be better
Is woven indelibly
Into our hearts
And our brains



From: an unweeded garden | Registered: Feb 2005  |  IP: Logged
CMOT Dibbler
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Babbler # 4117

posted 14 October 2005 07:25 PM      Profile for CMOT Dibbler     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
quote:
If I caught the world in a bottle
And everything
Wwas still beneath the moon
Without your love would it shine for me?

If I was smart as Aristotle
And understood the rings around the moon
What would it all matter if you loved me?

Here in your arms
Where the world is impossibly still
With a million dreams to fulfil
And a matter of moments until
The dancing ends

Here in your arms
Where everything seems to be clear
Not a solitary thing do I fear
Except when this moment comes near
The dancing's end

If I caught the world in an hourglass
Saddled up the moon
So we could ride until
The stars grew dim
Until...

One day you’ll meet a stranger
And all the noise is silenced in the room
You’ll feel that you're close to some mystery

In the moonlight
When everything shatters
You feel as if you’ve known her all your life
The world’s oldest lesson in history

Here in your arms
Where the world is impossibly still
With a million dreams to fulfil
And a matter of moments until
The dancing ends

Here in your arms
Where everything seems to be clear
Not a solitary thing do I fear
Except when this moment comes near
The dancing’s end

If I caught the world in an hourglass
Saddled up the moon
So we would ride until
The stars grew dim
Until...

The time
That time stands still
Until...


Until by Gorden Sumner (sting)


From: Just outside Fernie, British Columbia | Registered: May 2003  |  IP: Logged
deBeauxOs
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Babbler # 10099

posted 14 October 2005 10:41 PM      Profile for deBeauxOs     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
This is my favourite love poem. I first heard in the film "Truly Madly Deeply" when the character Alan Rickman plays recites it to Juliet Stevenson, in Spanish.
quote:
La muerta

If suddenly you do not exist,
if suddenly you no longer live,
I shall live on.

I do not dare,
I do not dare to write it,
if you die.

I shall live on.
For where a man has no voice,
there shall be my voice.

Where blacks are flogged and beaten,
I cannot be dead.
When my brothers go to prison
I shall go with them.
When victory,
not my victory,
but the great victory
comes,
even if I am dumb I must speak;
I shall see it coming even if I am blind.

No, forgive me.
If you no longer live,
if you, beloved, my love,
if you
have died,
all the leaves will fall on my breast,
it will rain on my soul night and day,
the snow will burn my heart,
I shall walk with frost and fire and death and snow,
my feet will want to walk to where you are sleeping,
but
I shall stay alive,
because above all things you wanted me
indomitable,
and, my love, because you know that I am not only a man
but all mankind.


Pablo Neruda



From: missing in action | Registered: Aug 2005  |  IP: Logged
chubbybear
rabble-rouser
Babbler # 10025

posted 14 October 2005 10:51 PM      Profile for chubbybear        Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
When routine bites hard,
And ambitions are low,
And resentment rides high,
But emotions won't grow,
And we're changing our ways,
Taking different roads.

Then love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.

Why is the bedroom so cold?
You've turned away on your side.
Is my timing that flawed?
Our respect runs so dry.
Yet there's still this appeal
That we've kept through our lives.

But love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.

You cry out in your sleep,
All my failings exposed.
And there's a taste in my mouth,
As desperation takes hold.
Just that something so good
Just can't function no more.

But love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again

Joy Division


From: nowhere | Registered: Jul 2005  |  IP: Logged
deBeauxOs
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Babbler # 10099

posted 15 October 2005 03:53 AM      Profile for deBeauxOs     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
tweak!
From: missing in action | Registered: Aug 2005  |  IP: Logged
Crippled_Newsie
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posted 15 October 2005 05:53 AM      Profile for Crippled_Newsie     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
This is written to a guy, but it's still lovely:

Every kind of love
Or at least my kind of love
Must be an imaginary love to start with
Guess that can explain the rain waiting walking game
Schubert bust my brain to start with

Cause every kind of love
Or at least my kind of love
Must be an imaginary love to start with
Guess that can explain the rain waiting walking game
Schubert bust my brain to start with

Oh, to look at you
In a cab
Back of your head across my lap
Oh, what grace
Green back seat against the red of your face
Oh, to look at you
Any old grand hotel
Drunken demands give way to reservations
Oh, what a room
Champagne brings such happy faces
Happy faces

Cause every kind of love
Or at least my kind of love
Must be an imaginary love to start with
Guess that can explain the rain waiting walking game
Schubert bust my brain to start with

Cause every kind of love
Or at least my kind of love
Must be an imaginary love to start with, baby
Guess that can explain the rain waiting walking game
Schubert bust my brain to start with
Oh, oh...

Rufus Wainwright, 'Imaginary Love'

[ 15 October 2005: Message edited by: Tape_342 ]


From: It's all about the thumpa thumpa. | Registered: Oct 2004  |  IP: Logged
lagatta
rabble-rouser
Babbler # 2534

posted 15 October 2005 08:31 AM      Profile for lagatta     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
Juan Gelman is one of my favourite poets, he has written many love poems (to lady loves, to his son, daughter-in-law and other comrades murdered by the dictatorships in Argentina and other Southern Cone countries). Here is one I've found in the original and in English translation, to his native city: http://fountain.bol.ucla.edu/gelman.html

deBeauxOs, could you find me the Neruda poem in the original Spanish? Looking up Neruda and "la muerte" only provides enless accounts of the life and death of the poet.


From: Se non ora, quando? | Registered: Apr 2002  |  IP: Logged
deBeauxOs
rabble-rouser
Babbler # 10099

posted 15 October 2005 02:39 PM      Profile for deBeauxOs     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
quote:
posted by lagatta: ... could you find me the Neruda poem in the original Spanish? Looking up Neruda and "la muerte" only provides enless accounts of the life and death of the poet.
Indeed.

lagatta, a great number of his poems in Spanish can be found here - but I'm not sure if 'La femme morte' is there. IMHO, the best collections of his poems are laid out so the original version and the French translation face one another, on opposite pages - don't know why, since I do not read or speak Spanish. It seems to me that the many versions of his poetry in English do not have the same resonance.


From: missing in action | Registered: Aug 2005  |  IP: Logged
bittersweet
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Babbler # 2474

posted 15 October 2005 02:56 PM      Profile for bittersweet     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
You could point your finger at random to any Lucinda Williams song and find beautiful love poetry. Lament and celebration, often at the same time. In the vein of Burns' quote above, he of the famous Scottish country-western school.
From: land of the midnight lotus | Registered: Apr 2002  |  IP: Logged
Cueball
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Babbler # 4790

posted 15 October 2005 05:35 PM      Profile for Cueball   Author's Homepage     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
They tried to make Zion inside of her,
but she insisted on Sara
lord lassie of love,

So she floated above the check points
and the fucking barbed wire
and submerged them in her mind
a swell,
undulating,
carnivorous,
semiotic rip-tide
that seems only to give up what it wants to give up on baited hooks:

Hooks such as multihued eyes -- dark safron mixed with sea green; hooks such as the flotsum of errant fishers lost complete with tack and boat, gutted upon the sharp edges of rising bergs of frozen memories that surface awash and return these things to the shore;

(where mewling puppies bark and yap, biting at the breakers, lost)

A question,
A nod of the head,
A sigh like a salt breeze,
and a revolver for those who would play Russian Roulette with the Sea

cue

[ 15 October 2005: Message edited by: Cueball ]


From: Out from under the bridge and out for a stroll | Registered: Dec 2003  |  IP: Logged
Eclectic
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Babbler # 8072

posted 15 October 2005 07:34 PM      Profile for Eclectic     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
Truthfully, I don't know why anyone would even try to write love poetry after this:

MY mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun
Coral is far more red than her lips' red:
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound:

I grant I never saw a goddess go,
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

As ever, the Bard rules.

[ 15 October 2005: Message edited by: Eclectic ]

[ 15 October 2005: Message edited by: Eclectic ]


From: Ottawa | Registered: Jan 2005  |  IP: Logged
CMOT Dibbler
rabble-rouser
Babbler # 4117

posted 15 October 2005 08:28 PM      Profile for CMOT Dibbler     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
quote:
Originally posted by Cueball:
They tried to make Zion inside of her,
but she insisted on Sara
lord lassie of love,

So she floated above the check points
and the fucking barbed wire
and submerged them in her mind
a swell,
undulating,
carnivorous,
semiotic rip-tide
that seems only to give up what it wants to give up on baited hooks:

Hooks such as multihued eyes -- dark safron mixed with sea green; hooks such as the flotsum of errant fishers lost complete with tack and boat, gutted upon the sharp edges of rising bergs of frozen memories that surface awash and return these things to the shore;

(where mewling puppies bark and yap, biting at the breakers, lost)

A question,
A nod of the head,
A sigh like a salt breeze,
and a revolver for those who would play Russian Roulette with the Sea

cue

[ 15 October 2005: Message edited by: Cueball ]


Who wrote that?


From: Just outside Fernie, British Columbia | Registered: May 2003  |  IP: Logged
Eclectic
rabble-rouser
Babbler # 8072

posted 15 October 2005 08:48 PM      Profile for Eclectic     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
I got the impression that it's a Cueball original.
From: Ottawa | Registered: Jan 2005  |  IP: Logged
Sleeping Sun
rabble-rouser
Babbler # 10470

posted 15 October 2005 09:10 PM      Profile for Sleeping Sun     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
sad love song by Nightwish (I'll have to check who wrote it, but I think it's Tuomas Holopainen:

The sun is sleeping quietly
Once upon a century
Wistful oceans calm and red
Ardent caresses laid to rest

For my dreams I hold my life
For wishes I behold my night
The truth at the end of time
Losing faith makes a crime

I wish for this night-time
to last for a lifetime
The darkness around me
Shores of a solar sea
Oh how I wish to go down with the sun
Sleeping
Weeping
With you

Sorrow has a human heart
From my god it will depart
I'd sail before a thousand moons
Never finding where to go

Two hundred twenty-two days of light
Will be desired by a night
A moment for the poet's play
Until there's nothing left to say

[edit to add who wrote this; sorry]

[ 15 October 2005: Message edited by: Sleeping Sun ]


From: when I find out, I'll let you know | Registered: Sep 2005  |  IP: Logged
deBeauxOs
rabble-rouser
Babbler # 10099

posted 15 October 2005 09:28 PM      Profile for deBeauxOs     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
Could Babblers please include attribution - and if the poetry is yours, do not plead false modesty.
From: missing in action | Registered: Aug 2005  |  IP: Logged
Tehanu
rabble-rouser
Babbler # 9854

posted 15 October 2005 09:38 PM      Profile for Tehanu     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
deBeauxOs -- Truly Madly Deeply is one of my all-time favourite movies! I cry every time I watch it, and they're those happy, bittersweet tears that come from genuine feeling, not some kind of emotional jerk-fest. Thanks for reminding me ... I need to watch it again! I would be happy to argue that it's one of the best love-type movies out there.

I know it's hideously soppy and the spelling drives me nuts, but this is a visceral one:

It's been seven hours and fifteen days
Since you took your love away
I go out every night and sleep all day
Since you took your love away
Since you been gone I can do whatever I want
I can see whomever I choose
I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant
But nothing
I said nothing can take away these blues
`Cause nothing compares
Nothing compares to you

It's been so lonely without you here
Like a bird without a song
Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling
Tell me baby where did I go wrong
I could put my arms around every boy I see
But they'd only remind me of you
I went to the doctor n'guess what he told me
Guess what he told me
He said girl u better try to have fun
No matter what you'll do
But he's a fool
`Cause nothing compares
Nothing compares to you

all the flowers that you planted, mama
In the back yard
All died when you went away
I know that living with you baby was sometimes hard
But I'm willing to give it another try
Nothing compares
Nothing compares to you ...

(Sinead O'Connor, written by Prince/Artist formerly known as/bizarre symbol)


From: Desperately trying to stop procrastinating | Registered: Jul 2005  |  IP: Logged
deBeauxOs
rabble-rouser
Babbler # 10099

posted 16 October 2005 12:33 AM      Profile for deBeauxOs     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
quote:
posted by Tehanu: Truly Madly Deeply is one of my all-time favourite movies! I cry every time I watch it, and they're those happy, bittersweet tears that come from genuine feeling, not some kind of emotional jerk-fest.
That intense combination of laughter and grief is so much like "real life", is it not? It is a film that stands the test of time. One of my best friends is a palliative care nurse and she loves it. Between the two of us, we may have worn out the Vtape. Time to get a dvd version, I guess.

From: missing in action | Registered: Aug 2005  |  IP: Logged
Cueball
rabble-rouser
Babbler # 4790

posted 16 October 2005 06:13 PM      Profile for Cueball   Author's Homepage     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
quote:
Originally posted by CMOT Dibbler:

Who wrote that?


me


From: Out from under the bridge and out for a stroll | Registered: Dec 2003  |  IP: Logged
aRoused
rabble-rouser
Babbler # 1962

posted 16 October 2005 06:47 PM      Profile for aRoused     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

Auden.


From: The King's Royal Burgh of Eoforwich | Registered: Dec 2001  |  IP: Logged
alisea
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posted 16 October 2005 06:59 PM      Profile for alisea     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
I suppose it doesn't meet CMOT's criterion of classically celebrating women, but I hope you enjoy this as much as I do :-). It's by Daphne Gottlieb, a San Francisco slam poet.

'watch your tense and case'

oh baby
i want to be your direct object.
you know, that is to say
i want to be on the other
side of all the verbs i know
you know how to use.

i've seen you conjugate:
i touch
you touched
you heard
she knows
who cares

i'm interested in
a few decent prepositions:
above, over, inside, atop,
below, around and
i'm sure there are more
right on the tip of
your tongue.

i am ready to spend
the present perfect
splitting your infinitive
there's an art to the way you
dangle your participle and

since we're being informal it's okay to
use a few contractions, like
wasn't (going to)
shouldn't (have)
and a conjunction:
but (did it anyway)

and i'm really really glad
you're not into dependent
clauses since all i'm really
interested in is your
bad, bad grammar
and your exclamation point.


From: Halifax, Nova Scotia | Registered: Jun 2003  |  IP: Logged
Cueball
rabble-rouser
Babbler # 4790

posted 16 October 2005 09:42 PM      Profile for Cueball   Author's Homepage     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
quote:
Originally posted by Tehanu:
But I'm willing to give it another try
Nothing compares
Nothing compares to you ... [/i]

(Sinead O'Connor, written by Prince/Artist formerly known as/bizarre symbol)


I always felt her vocal delivery of "nothing compares to you" was vaguely sarcastic, or meant as a double entendre. Perhaps, I am just cynical, but then so is Sinead.

Anyone see The Butcher Boy?


From: Out from under the bridge and out for a stroll | Registered: Dec 2003  |  IP: Logged
Michelle
Moderator
Babbler # 560

posted 16 October 2005 09:44 PM      Profile for Michelle   Author's Homepage     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
Prince has written some beautiful love songs.

I love Prince. Or at least, I did before he went all cult-freak.


From: I've got a fever, and the only prescription is more cowbell. | Registered: May 2001  |  IP: Logged
Sven
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posted 16 October 2005 10:08 PM      Profile for Sven     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
quote:
Originally posted by Michelle:
Prince has written some beautiful love songs.

I love Prince. Or at least, I did before he went all cult-freak.


Prince lives in town here in the Twin Cities and is protected by guards and a slew of other folks that insulate him from the rest of the world. My question is: How the hell did the Jehovah's Witnesses get to Prince in the first place?! It's not like they just knocked on his door and he answered and started to listen to their pitch.

Seeing Prince after his religious conversion was real disappointing. The sharp edge normally found in his music was gone.


From: Eleutherophobics of the World...Unite!!!!! | Registered: Jul 2005  |  IP: Logged
Yst
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posted 18 October 2005 04:27 PM      Profile for Yst     Send New Private Message      Edit/Delete Post  Reply With Quote 
On a humourous note, Arthur Clement Hilton's parody, Octopus of Decadent Poet A. C. Swinburne's poem Dolores (Notre-Dame des Sept Douleurs). I delight in both, the moreso in the prior because I genuinely enjoy the latter in the first place.
From: State of Genderfuck | Registered: Jun 2005  |  IP: Logged

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