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Personal Poetry - Page 19 - UniLang

Personal Poetry

A place for everyone to have discussions about literature, classical and contemporary.

Moderators: Car, Luís, Johanna, Aurinĭa, Yserenhart, kibo, Global Moderators

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Emandir
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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Emandir » 2008-08-18, 23:37

Yes, I've read Rilke and I agreed with almost everything he says - and I agree with what you say about writing - I even said once "l'important, c'est l'étant en train d'être écrit" (the main thing is the being written) - but I've recently had to wonder about who I am, what's my place in this world, etc. etc. and the only word I found to define myself was poet - and as such, I think I can't put aside the fact of being read - no matter the number of readers - and I also came to the idea that nothing's worth the trouble we take in if we do not share it - I've been selfish all my life long (though not, I hope, in a "bad" way, more introverted than egoistic) and I really think it's time for me to open to the world, in a word, to tear down the wall...
To be read is not in contradiction to the pleasure of writing it's just a plus (and you know that even the most prolific writer hasn't published everything he wrote!)
Language is the best way men have found to misunderstand each other. Lycodoxos

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Emandir
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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Emandir » 2008-08-22, 16:35

Showing off a bit more... :P

sonnet anglais

Tel Thésée titubant dans l'immense dédale
où se terrait l'affreux fils de Pasiphaé
ainsi l'homme en sa vie va d'escale en escale
à la recherche du monstre qu'il a créé.

Tel Narcisse penché par-dessus l'eau amère
où son reflet troublé dédaignait lui répondre
ainsi l'homme au miroir questionne le mystère
de ce moi dans lequel il voudrait bien se fondre.

Mais sur ce long chemin en cette onde profonde
certains se sont noyés d'autres se sont perdus
car il n'est pas donné à tout homme en ce monde
d'aller sereinement par ces sentiers ardus.

Et comme il fut heureux en son bois sombre Dante
de trouver en Virgile une âme bienveillante

29.04.08, P.L
.


english sonnet

Like Theseus staggering in the huge maze
where was hiding the hideous son of Pasiphaë
thus man through life goes from call to call
searching for the monster he has created.

Like Narcissus bent over the bitter water
in which his cloudy reflection contemned to answer him
thus man in the mirror questions the mystery
of this self inside which he would like to melt.

But on this long path in these deep waters
some have drowned others have lost
because it's not given to any man in this world
to go serenely through those arduous tracks.

And how lucky he was in his dark wood Dante
to find in Virgil a benevolent soul.
Language is the best way men have found to misunderstand each other. Lycodoxos

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Eoghan
Posts: 2169
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Location: Sruighlea/ Stirling
Country: GB United Kingdom (United Kingdom)

Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Eoghan » 2008-08-23, 15:57

Jag vill vara
sju vindar
En eld medan natten
Smider båten
Som drar de två
Korparna
Längs Vintergatan
Jag ser
Brinnande is i
Dina ögon
Medan du du drack
Sommarstormar
Ur
Havsgudens bägare

I wish to be
seven winds
A fire when the night
forges the boat
that carries the two
Ravens
Along the Milky Way
I see
Burning Ices in
Your eyes
While you were drinking
summer storms
from the
Sea God's goblet

___________________________

En gång trodde jag att vi alla hade rätt
men den som aldrig dricker kaffe klockan
sju på morgonen har inte kaffeabstinens
vid tio, med darrande händer
söker han inte sin vita kopp

Så Starbucks öppnar dörrarna och jag, jag kryper in
Vem här inne behöver veta att jag bara köpper
kaffet för att smälta in
När jag observerar bleka Göteborgare i
för stora solglasögon
leka mystiska kopior av
den senaste H&M-reklamen

I used to believe that we were all right
but he who doesn''t drink coffee
at seven o' clock in the morning
wont suffer from
coffeine withdrawal symptoms at ten,
he doesn't reach for his white cup with trembling hands

So Starbucks opens its doors and I, I crawl in
None in here has to know that I only buy
the coffee in order to fit into the image
when I observe pale Gothenburgers in
all too big sun glasses
playing mystical copies of the lates H&M advertisement campaign

_________________________________

I am the oldest tree
Your world resides within me
I am Yggdrasil
The Tree of Life
And your First Gods hung from
My Branches
Calling the Magic
to follow you
and the Runes
to be your
Guides

_______________________
Image[flag]sv[/flag] [flag]en[/flag] [flag]gd[/flag] [flag]de[/flag][flag]ga[/flag] [flag]fr[/flag] [flag]pt[/flag] [flag]nl[/flag] [flag]it[/flag] [flag]no-nn[/flag] [flag]fo[/flag]

Albeit the Scot in me is of the Western stock and the red of the Cairngorms, the heather and the Lewissian gneiss, the Viking in me was there when you uttered the first word of your leid.

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Eoghan
Posts: 2169
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Gender: male
Location: Sruighlea/ Stirling
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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Eoghan » 2008-08-23, 16:14

I.

Ibland så är
Tyskland inte så
där speciellt roligt som
man trodde att det
skulle vara

Sommaren är borta och
grått regn blåser
genom Freiburg och
jag vill bara
bort
bort, bort

II.

Jag låter regnet dansa
mot min panna
jag saknar de som inte
finns där längre
och tänder
ljus för att leda dem
till Tir na nÒige

III.

Hör inte de ord som folk
ropar till mig
min ande har redan
satt sig på
planet över Atlanten
och väntar otåligt
på en kropp att
vandra på Manhattan med

IV.

Läser Kafka och
Gramadach na Gaeilge
och lyssnar på ord
som sköljer över mig likt
vatten
Vänder mig mot bergen och
tänker att jag ändå
trivs
om ändå det bara vore
mindre universitet
och mer Freiburg

V.

Byråkratins snara
stryper mig och jag undrar
om det finns värre
än att genomlida Hades
med Kafka
- skulle vara att vandra
byråkratins vägar genom
kursväxling

________

I.

Sometimes Germany
isn't as fun
as one thought
it would be

The summer's gone and
grey rain blows
through Freiburg and
I just want to get awa'
away, away

II.
I let the rain dance
against my forehead
I miss the ones that
aren't there anymore
and light
candles to lead them
to Tìr na nÒige

III.
I don't hear the words people
shout at me
My spirit has already
embarked
a plane across the Atlantic
and is impatiently waiting
for a body
to walk with on Manhattan


IV.
I read Kafka and
Gramadach na Gaeilge
and listen to words
washing over me
like water
Turn towards the mountains and
guess that I somehow like it here
were it just a little less university
and a little more
Feiburg

V.
The snare of bureauchracy
strangles me and I wonder
if a worser fate exists
than suffering the pains of Hades
together with Kafka
- Would be to walk on the
streets of bureauchracy
in order to attend a new course
Image[flag]sv[/flag] [flag]en[/flag] [flag]gd[/flag] [flag]de[/flag][flag]ga[/flag] [flag]fr[/flag] [flag]pt[/flag] [flag]nl[/flag] [flag]it[/flag] [flag]no-nn[/flag] [flag]fo[/flag]

Albeit the Scot in me is of the Western stock and the red of the Cairngorms, the heather and the Lewissian gneiss, the Viking in me was there when you uttered the first word of your leid.

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Trapy
Posts: 1675
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Real Name: Trapy
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Country: GB United Kingdom (United Kingdom)

Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Trapy » 2008-09-09, 4:18

I don't do much poetry, but I do do some journal-sketchbook work. This is part of it. I can answer things in PMs, but this was at a point in life where I was literally going insane, and liking it. But having tasted enough of it, before I fell in to the bottomless pit, I pulled out. All my views on life changed after that~

For the missed opportunities:

You've denied me my freedom times before
In faith you kept me in chains on the floor
Force-feeding me lies which I now reject
No more in gray, I now overstep

The boundary you placed there for my safety
You only meant well but please don't grieve me
This cage is too small, I've seen outside
Comfort escapes me, I know I must try

To contain this rage, this fury and rush
Violent insanity for blood I lust.
Behind a veil I am always ready
To expunge all that stands before me

But time is lost and the damage is done
I stand alone, but am still your son
My heart is with you, inside the cage
Yet my head burns, with fire and rage

Let me bleed and be torn to pieces
Life destroys me with no kindliness
I want to be all that I can become
I will not stop 'till my task is done

Ruthless and cold I abandon all warmth
Screaming headlong into the black storm
Pleasure in torment against all odds
Laughing! As I take on the gods.

And defeated I lie, the skies above:
Blue, immense, and soothing enough.
Mañana will come, and all this hell?
Not in vain. I discovered myself.
"and now every toilet will burn to ashes!""

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Emandir
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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Emandir » 2008-09-10, 14:59

Eoghan
Wow! I deeply regret not to be able to read Swedish (if that's Sw.): your poems are awesome in English and I guess they would be more dans le texte !
Now, why I find them awesome? Maybe just because they make me travel, they make me see, feel unknow things under foreign skies, and I love that!
(I must say anyway that I know, I knew Freiburg a long time ago, when I was at the army in Müllheim...)

Trapinou
You don't have to justify yourself or what you say in your poem! I mean, well, sometimes, I say things in mine in which I don't really believe, that are not really true, etc. After all, poems (literature in general) are made for that: to "sublimate" reality - to tell things that you wouldn't tell otherwise to anyone, travel through time and space, speak about your worst dreams and your best nightmares, recollect feelings of an forgotten past and share them with others... (open list.)
I would be keen on reading some more stuff from you...
Language is the best way men have found to misunderstand each other. Lycodoxos

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Eoghan
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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Eoghan » 2008-09-11, 22:09

Emandir wrote:Eoghan
Wow! I deeply regret not to be able to read Swedish (if that's Sw.): your poems are awesome in English and I guess they would be more dans le texte !
Now, why I find them awesome? Maybe just because they make me travel, they make me see, feel unknow things under foreign skies, and I love that!
(I must say anyway that I know, I knew Freiburg a long time ago, when I was at the army in Müllheim...)


Trugarez mat Emandir, merci beaucoup, and yes, my poetry's mainly in Swedish, even though I often write in German, English and sometimes Gàidhlig...

I like your poetry too, it's really beautiful and vivid, and the language is really strong, especially in "sonnet anglais". I have tried to read through all your french poems in order to brushen up my French and they all remember me why I started to learn French. It's a beautiful language, as are your poems.

I wrote the start of the poem about Freiburg when I was feeling homesick, longing for something different. I was trapped in essays and oral exams and felt somewhat lost... I finished it a month before I returned to Sweden, when I realised that I actually loved Freiburg and was meant to stay there. I actually tried to miss the flight back home so that I could have some extra time in Freiburg :lol: It didn't work, though. :D
Image[flag]sv[/flag] [flag]en[/flag] [flag]gd[/flag] [flag]de[/flag][flag]ga[/flag] [flag]fr[/flag] [flag]pt[/flag] [flag]nl[/flag] [flag]it[/flag] [flag]no-nn[/flag] [flag]fo[/flag]

Albeit the Scot in me is of the Western stock and the red of the Cairngorms, the heather and the Lewissian gneiss, the Viking in me was there when you uttered the first word of your leid.

User avatar
Trapy
Posts: 1675
Joined: 2006-08-09, 17:59
Real Name: Trapy
Gender: male
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Country: GB United Kingdom (United Kingdom)

Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Trapy » 2008-09-12, 1:17

Emandir wrote:
Trapinou
You don't have to justify yourself or what you say in your poem! I mean, well, sometimes, I say things in mine in which I don't really believe, that are not really true, etc. After all, poems (literature in general) are made for that: to "sublimate" reality - to tell things that you wouldn't tell otherwise to anyone, travel through time and space, speak about your worst dreams and your best nightmares, recollect feelings of an forgotten past and share them with others... (open list.)
I would be keen on reading some more stuff from you...


Well, I use poetry as a stress relief. In fact, the only time I do journal-sketching is when I've got so much on my mind, I need to relieve some pressure. Like now I'm banging my face on a book (/hint) over some girl, which I should really walk away from, but can't bring myself to do... so I might post more on lighter subjects while juices are flowing ;).

Also, I use my internet life as something different to my real life, with you guys I have no shame talking about life ;)
"and now every toilet will burn to ashes!""

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Trapy
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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Trapy » 2008-09-20, 23:43

Non, je refuse.
Je refuse avec tout mon corps.
Je la rejette, et je refuse de la répondre.
Mon âme, sait, qu'il est la meilleur choix de le refuse.
Mon corps refuse de rentre et répondre
Mais mon cœur crier a` sa besoin de répondre

"Laissez moi répondre,
c'est tout dont j'ai
Laissez moi aller vers la tristesse,
et une fois de plus écraser
La moment de tomber
c'est tout qui me plait.
Une fois de plus
Je vous demander"

Mais mon corps ne bouge plus, mon âme est en accord.
Me briser en morceaux, je préféré être mort.
Je ne joue plus, ce n'était jamais une sport.
Je laisse tomber cette blessure lourd.
"and now every toilet will burn to ashes!""

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Emandir
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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Emandir » 2008-09-22, 9:56

Allow me to correct some mistakes...

Non, je refuse.
Je refuse avec tout mon corps.
Je la rejette, et je refuse de lui répondre.
Mon âme, sait, que c'est le meilleur choix de le refuser.
Mon corps refuse de rentrer et répondre
Mais mon cœur crie son besoin de répondre

"Laissez-moi répondre,
c'est tout ce que j'ai
Laissez-moi aller vers la tristesse,
et une fois de plus écraser
Le moment de tomber
c'est tout ce qui me plait.
Une fois de plus
Je vous (le) demande"

Mais mon corps ne bouge plus, mon âme est en accord.
Me briser en morceaux, je préfère être mort.
Je ne joue plus, ce n'était jamais un sport.
Je laisse tomber cette blessure lourde.
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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Trapy » 2008-09-22, 19:40

Thanks Emandir :). I was typing that on the spur of a moment, forgot to proofread it myself :S
"and now every toilet will burn to ashes!""

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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Emandir » 2008-09-24, 18:06

You're welcome!
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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Emandir » 2008-09-25, 13:23

SKIN

#1
THIS IS THE SKIN
OF MY BODY
READY AT LAST
FOR GENTLE STROKE
IS IT TOO LATE?

#2
THIS IS MY SKIN
OFFERED TO WHOM
WOULDN'T BE SCARED
BY ITS NECES~
SARY DECAY.

#3
THIS IS THE SKIN
I WAS GIVEN
ONCE FOR EVER
~ A SHORT EVER ~
TO ROT INSIDE.

#4
BEYOND THIS SKIN
SCARRED OVER YEARS
BY SO MANY
UNWANTED MEETS
WHO WILL SEE ME?

#5
THIS IS THE SKIN
UNDERNEATH WHICH
BOILS AND TURMOILS
EAGER TO SPROUT
MY MOURNING SOUL.

#6
THIS IS THE SKIN
OF MY BODY
UNDELIVERED
FOR A LONG TIME
IS IT OVER?

SEPT. 21ST, 08
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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby lu:ka » 2008-09-25, 14:12

@Emandir ... cela est une très bonne poésie, selon moi, parfois j'éprouve le même sentiment pour mon corps qui se détruit de plus en plus chaque jour :(


@Trapy ... i do love your French poem ;) and as you I use my internet life as an escape from the biases of people ... here i feel freer to talk of my life than with my close-friends

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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Emandir » 2008-10-05, 8:51

Another joyful one!
_____

(One more) Elegy

Feeling lonely -
My mind hurts,
my heart hurts,
my body hurts -
Why have I been put in here
if it's only to be in pain?
Is there something,
is there someone,
somewhere and when?
to take me out of this vale of tears?
to pull me out of this dale of fears?
For there's no more power in me
no more strength in my arm
no more energy in my brain
and I feel like I am sinking
inevitably
in the morass of naught
and I feel like I am drowning
far away from the shore where people walk along
heedlessly…

PL, Oct. 4th, 2008.
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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Eoghan » 2008-10-05, 9:52

@Emandir; I just read your poem "This is the Skin" and I love it, so simple and yet so expressive. If you ever decide to make a book of your poems I'll be willing to buy it (as long as I can afford it :-D )
Image[flag]sv[/flag] [flag]en[/flag] [flag]gd[/flag] [flag]de[/flag][flag]ga[/flag] [flag]fr[/flag] [flag]pt[/flag] [flag]nl[/flag] [flag]it[/flag] [flag]no-nn[/flag] [flag]fo[/flag]

Albeit the Scot in me is of the Western stock and the red of the Cairngorms, the heather and the Lewissian gneiss, the Viking in me was there when you uttered the first word of your leid.

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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Emandir » 2008-10-07, 12:06

Wow! That's one of the best compliment I ever had!
That's really touching, and comforting - you know, sometimes I wonder what's the use of all this, all those lines and sheets, isn't it wasted time? Words like yours help me going forward: if what I write can please (if not help) only one people, it's worth my time and effort...
:thanks: a lot, Yo-An!
_____

days are passing
one over the other
like white sheets
turned by a livid hand
nothing seems like to happen
nothing new, nothing unusual
out of the common tedious route
along the same flat straight river
leading to no salted ocean
no wavely waggled expanse
but the slack unending deadly sea

one after the other
hours without jolts
go their own way
on the filthy blanket of days
stroking the mind with their blank hands
melting the thoughts into
an insipid glutinous marmalade
winging and winding the wondrous
wrapping the peculiar
in the cerements of boredom
before placing the still body
inside its very room
amid the primeval mire

lethargy pours along the dusty walls
of human cells
like languid drops of blood
from a sore sore
dripping upon the skin
in a long unvanquished agony
benumbing silently the limbs
helpless before the merciless tick
that perceptibly pervades
the grey palsy squishy matter

hours pass days go
upon each lonely life
drowned in the inconceivable vastness
though figuring to be fresh and sole
hours drain like a tasteless water
colourless and harmless
drowsy slow flow
while the hours pound
repeatedly
their even blow
hammering quiet reproaches
upon the unarmed flesh

PL, 10/07/08
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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Emandir » 2008-10-08, 0:16

I forgot, Eoghan, about the book, you won't have to buy it: if I ever publish any, I promise to send one to you!
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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Emandir » 2008-10-08, 11:26

Another one written in English, which I must say I like the lingua...
_____

The Chair

Disregarding the complacence of the peignoir
(1)
He spreads his brawny legs out of the chair
Exposing his feet to the playful draught
Running from his ankle up to his furry thigh
That bristles in the air jostling amongst his hair
Making shiver the uprightness of his manhood;

Not a move, not a tremble of skin in the shady clair-obscur
Not a disturbance -
Save for the joyful leaping atmosphere -
The extension of the still silhouette like a vivid statue
Takes up the entire room from wall to wall
Before the draped hiding curtain
Filling the horizon of the covert witness
Vigilant voyeur on the look-out for more to see
While the body unstrained but for one part
Nonchalantly displays the brown of its beauty;

Look at his perfect foot, at the prolonging of the shank
Do not neglect the inner leg, fleshiest part ever
Throw out carelessly upon the iliac bone a stroke
Before aside the belly and the chest
You reach the hardy neck and the strenuous chin -
But hold your hand! You won't be granted tout de suite
To set a finger even the gentlest
On the unshaven cheek
That's personal and withheld spot
For someone else…

Now it may be time to shut the window of curiosity
To withdraw soberly on the tip of your toes
To let him tranquilly rest like an asleep jinn
Or kept engaged in his own private business -
That's none of your concerns -
And maybe tomorrow will he let you regard
Again a bit of the divine vista…

To John "Freedom"

PL, 10/08/08

__________
note (1) - cf. W. Stevens, Sunday Morning, Harmonium, 1923.
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Re: Personal Poetry

Postby Tenebrarum » 2008-10-08, 13:55

Emandir wrote:the uprightness of his manhood

:shocked: :bounce: :burning:
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