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Poetry & Literature Thread

14K views 156 replies 7 participants last post by  chmath 
#1 ·
Salutations dear friends,

In anticipation of the release of a certain someone's 'autobiography' and given that our beloved Ms. Pennetta's fans appear to be well rehearsed in the arts of expression and prose, I thought it perhaps a good idea to start a unique little corner for poetry and literature content, hence helping to 'unclog' the very useful and successful 'Offtopic' Thread.

And as a first contribution, I would like to dedicate a couple of verses from Maya Angelou's now legendary poem "Phenomenal Woman" to the two life time honorary members of this thread: Our beloved administrator Linda and the unique and mysteriously exotic Karla.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.

I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.
 
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#2 ·
Wow that is a great poem, I love it:worship:
And it does describe the "inner mystery" of a woman very well.


My favourite poet is a Dutch woman (she also wrote Jip and Janneke, lots of others things too, you may know her from this), so unfortunately it won't be much use for me to post these, but most of her poems were written in the 1950s and had a special kind of society-criticism about them. Very ironic and witty, and very recognisable.


The only poem in English that I know by heart is very short, and it's written by singer/songwriter Jewel (she's one of my fave singers). To me, it's about insecurity.
There's a pretty girl
On the face
Of the magazine
And all I see
Is my dirty hands
Turning the page
 
#3 ·
You are indeed a class act Linda :worship: As far as Jewel is concerned, I don't think any human being with half a heart and brain under the age of 40 can call her anything less than pure genius. Along with Alanis Morissette and Leeanne Rimes, they represent the very best of female expression in the late nineties and the 00s. Meaningful, soulful and - even though I can't relate to some of the more subtle female 'issues' they express, they definitely have a lot to say. Leeanne Rimes rendition of Amazing Grace, (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iT88jBAoVIM), even for those of us who may or may not be religious, is epic, to say the least...:hearts:
 
#8 ·
Good way to revive this thread.....I'm reading The sweetness at the bottom of the pie right now.

It's about a little girl (11 years) who's solving a murder. It's not really that good (maybe it's the Dutch translation, or maybe it's just not my kind of book, cause the friend who recommended it loved it) but the funny thing is that the girl is called Flavia :lol:
 
#9 ·
Besides the fact that 'Flavia' is wayyyy too much for an 11 year old, she's just too smart and fearless, otherwise it's a superb book in my opinion. I don't know about the Dutch translation, but I found the book to be brilliant. And Alan Bradley has said he will create sequels (featuring 'Flavia' ofc!), so stick with it :devil:
 
#14 ·
i wrote this few monthes ago...it was born when my idea of leaving italy became more than a dream...


Madre!
Appena staccato dal tuo seno
È la mia bocca,
non più un bambino,
ancora non un uomo.

Guardano altrove i miei occhi,
vedono sogni lontano,
cercano la speranza qui perduta.

Poi d’improvviso incrociano
Il tuo sguardo. Severo.
Agli occhi tuoi e dei miei fratelli
Il mio è il volto di un traditore.

Arida terra magnifica
Quella su cui sorge la mia casa,
che lenta svanisce all’orizzonte.

E più mi allontano dalle
Miei strade e i miei campi,
più forte è la nostalgia per quel
paese che non conosce futuro.
Mother!
Just now from your bosom
has moved my mouth.
no more a kid,
not yet a man.

Away, that's where my eyes are going,
they see dreams far there,
looking for the hope, here has gone.

suddenly they meet
your glance. Harsh.
to your eyes and my brother's
mine is the face of the betrayer.

arid magnificent land
where my house is built,
it's fading away to the horizon.

and the further i am from
my streets and my fields,
the stronger the nostalgia for
a land who knows no future.
 
#15 ·
i wrote this few monthes ago...it was born when my idea of leaving italy became more than a dream...



Mother!
Just now from your bosom
has moved my mouth.
no more a kid,
not yet a man.

Away, that's where my eyes are going,
they see dreams far there,
looking for the hope, here has gone.

suddenly they meet
your glance. Harsh.
to your eyes and my brother's
mine is the face of the betrayer.

arid magnificent land
where my house is built,
it's fading away to the horizon.

and the further i am from
my streets and my fields,
the stronger the nostalgia for
a land who knows no future.
Gaspa, absolutely MAGNIFICENT. :worship: The last two lines, I don't know if it's a translation thing, 'the stronger the nostalgia for a land that knows no future'? Do you mean, where the future is unknown, or that you are heading into the unknown, or what exactly? Poetically, it is very strong, but actually longing to be somewhere where there is no future is usually reserved as a poetic way to say you are surrendering to death or illness, which I'm sure is not what you are trying to say...:eek:
 
#16 ·
i'm perfectly healthy at the moment luckily...the "who" instead of which was used to underline the link between my land and the figure of the mother in the first stanza, the fact that i say my country has no future means that i don't see any future for me here ;) hope it's all clear now...thank you for your comment anw
 
#27 ·
No, that's not just you. Though, as the book goes on, I'd rather call it melancholic than depressing.
But it's sad, yes. Their lives are almost tragic, and yet almost normal too.

I like Mattia's parts more than Alice's.
 
#37 ·
And in keeping with the Poetry side of this thread...I would like to share one of the poems that I like. It's from the movie, Patch Adams. :awww:

Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
 
#39 ·
Check out Google!

My favourite Dutch writer/poet would have turned 100 today if she was still alive.

So, in honour of Annie M.G. Schmidt (I mentioned her before, she wrote a lot of famous things for children), I have tried to translate one of her poems for adults for you guys.


To a little girl

This is the land where grown up people live
You don't have to enter yet, it's rotten there
There are no more fairies, there are hormones,
and everytime something else is wrong.

And in this land all adventures
are the same, of a man and of a woman.
And behind every wall there are other walls
and never a unicorn or a bogeyman

And here all the things have two sides
and here all the teddybears are dead.
And bad pieces are in bad newspapers
and that's what bad men do for a living.

Here a forest is just a bunch of trees
and the soldiers are no longer made of tin.
This is the land where grown up people live....
Don't worry. You don't have to enter yet.



Of course it's much better in Dutch - it rhymes and all, and it has a rhythm ;)
 
#44 ·
One more :angel:


Little box

I'm so scared you will disappear,
fade away into fog and never reappear,
dissolve into sunlight or melt in the rain,
yes, that happens, and what do you do against it?
Fly away through the window like a very stupid butterfly,
high reward for Honest Finder.

I would prefer to put you in a little box
and keep you safe, keep you very safe.
I'd insure you for a million and a half
and I'd keep opening the box for just a minute
and I'd softly stroke your hair
You'll lie in the cotton wool and nobody can reach you,
not a thief who can steal you, you're all mine.
I'd prefer to put you in a little box
and keep taking a quick look,
very carefully taking a look
keep taking a quick look
and a kiss.

You can go out for a while, every day.
Yes, you may. Yes, an hour, you may.
Lets say: go to the Vondelpark, for just a bit,
just to feed the ducks a bit.
But, I'll hold on to you, even if you don't want it
and after an hour you'll go back into the little box.


----

The end of the 2nd strofe is quite famous ;)
 
#45 ·
Overpowering stuff... Indeed, it is very famous. It actually inspired two 'offspring' poems, by Julius someone or other (can't find it online) and Marcus Banks. Here they are:

I took an ordinary box
As empty as can be
I filled it with a special gift
And wrapped it carefully.

But please don't ever open it
Just leave the ribbon tied
And hold it tightly near your heart
Because my love for you's inside!

Julius X

"This is a very special gift
That you can never see
The reason that it's special
It's just for you from me
Whenever you are lonely
Or when you're feeling blue
You only have to hold this
gift and know I think of you
You never can unwrap it
Please leave the ribbon tied
Just hold this box close to your heart
It's filled with love inside

Marcus Banks

Obviously, they are nowhere near as structurally sound or empowering, but they are useful inspiration efforts born from what is a masterpiece.
 
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