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'Poets' Corner' - ChrisL (210 posts) May 26th, 2008, 12:23 AM (300 replies)

Welcome to the Poets’ Corner.
     This is the new section of our ELT e-Reading Group devoted to poetry.
    
     We would like to invite all our members to use this space to post here your favourite poems, poems that are special for you and/or that you particularly enjoy and which you would like to share with all of us.
    
     The only thing you have to do is to choose a poem and post the text here with the bibliographical reference. If you copy it from a website, please do provide the website address.
     Unfortunately, for legal reasons our choices are limited to poems that are no longer under copyright protection. If you would like to post a poem from a contemporary writer, please make sure you have a written permission to do so.
    
     We are all invited to read the poems and comment on them or simply enjoy reading them.
    
     In case, you would like to post a comment. Please, look at the notes below that were adapted from the ones kindly sent to me by Juliet Wragge-Morley, from the British Council Literature Department.
    
     We would very much encourage your personal response to the poems posted here. How does the poem touch you? What echoes, messages, feeling and reactions has it brought to you? How do you connect it with other poems, stories or texts you have already read?
    
     Another possible approach to poetry is to look at the writing technique employed by the poet. It can be a very illuminating and enriching experience as well, as you can try to ‘see how the writing has been put together and the pitch it makes for a reader's attention. How successfully does the writer invent, sustain, and make the reader inhabit an imaginative space? How successfully are other technical aspects of writing deployed: imagery, metaphor, formal styles, point of view, narrative voice, consciousness, characterisation, scene setting, use of dialogue, the rhythm of dialogue and narrative, narrative pace and tension, structural devices?’
    
     Looking forward to a new time full of poetry here in the reading group.
    
     Cheers - Chris

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pilar (40 posts) May 26th, 2008, 01:51 AM

Hi poetry lovers,
     here goes my favourite:
     Robert Frost: The Road Not Taken (1915)
    
    
     Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
     And sorry I could not travel both
     And be one traveler, long I stood
     And looked down one as far as I could
     To where it bent in the undergrowth.
    
     Then took the other, as just as fair,
     And having perhaps the better claim,
     Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
     Though as for that the passing there
     Had worn them really about the same.
    
     And both that morning equally lay
     In leaves no step had trodden black.
     Oh, I kept the first for another day!
     Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
     I doubted if I should ever come back.
    
     I shall be telling this with a sigh
     Somewhere ages and ages hence:
     Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
     I took the one less traveled by,
     And that has made all the difference.

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SaraW (9 posts) May 26th, 2008, 02:44 AM

Great choice, Pilar
     I particularly lik this verse:
     And both that morning equally lay
     In leaves no step had trodden black.
     Oh, I kept the first for another day!
     Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
     I doubted if I should ever come back.
    
     It gives me an awful feeling that life is relentlessly moving forward... but there's only a trace-perhaps an undercurrent of sadness. The poem is a happy on really- from someone whofeels he has made the right choice.
    
     Here's another poem I like
    
     Stevie Smith - Not Waving But Drowning
    
     Nobody heard him, the dead man,
     But still he lay moaning:
     I was much further out than you thought
     And not waving but drowning.
    
     Poor chap, he always loved larking
     And now he's dead
     It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
     They said.
    
     Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
     (Still the dead one lay moaning)
     I was much too far out all my life
     And not waving but drowning.
    
     XXXX
     Sara

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ChrisL (210 posts) May 26th, 2008, 02:48 AM

Hi Pilar
    
     Congratulations!! The first poem of the group! Thanks a lot for this.
    
     I also like this poem a lot and I usually use this at the first lesson of the term when I have a new group and also at teacher training courses. It's great to help students to get to know each other and get in contact with poetry. Here it goes:
    
     Introduction and demonstration
     - draw a road on the board with a crossroad at the end;
     - write single words and dates along the road - these words should be names of places and people who have been important along your life, dates that are meaningful to you, names of objects that have a particular significance for you;
     - at the crossroads write words that are connected with some of your plans for the future;
     - invite your students to ask you questions to find out what the words/dates mean, reply to their questions and talk a bit about it;
     - repeat this procedure for a couple of entries and then invite students to do the same - Ss draw their roads and carry out the activity in pairs, asking and answering about the entries on their roads.
    
     The Poem
     - give Ss copies of the poem, ask them to read it and work on possible vocabulary items they find particularly problematic
     - discuss their reaction to the poem in pairs and them in the group - you can use both a personal response approach or close reading or any other you find suitable for your needs and programme
     - assign a pice of writing asking students to write a sort essay about the poem and the connections they perceive with the activity they have developed at the beginning of the lesson.
    
     Cheers - Chris

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ChrisL (210 posts) May 26th, 2008, 06:57 AM

Valsa Balaji has asked me to post this on her behalf.
    
     Hi everyone
     Wordsworths'Daffodils has been my all time favourite.
     Over to Daffodils
    
     Cheers - Valsa
    
    
     "Daffodils" (1804)
    
     I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud
     That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
     When all at once I saw a crowd,
    
     A host, of golden daffodils;
     Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
     Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
     Continuous as the stars that shine
    
     And twinkle on the Milky Way,
     They stretch'd in never-ending line
    
     Along the margin of a bay:
     Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
     Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
     The waves beside them danced; but they
    
     Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
     A poet could not but be gay,
    
     In such a jocund company:
     I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
     What wealth the show to me had brought:
     For oft, when on my couch I lie
    
     In vacant or in pensive mood,
     They flash upon that inward eye
    
     Which is the bliss of solitude;
     And then my heart with pleasure fills,
     And dances with the daffodils.
    
     By William Wordsworth (1770-1850).

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pilar (40 posts) May 26th, 2008, 07:52 AM

Excellent choice Valsa!

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adolatkal (44 posts) May 26th, 2008, 03:16 PM

Dear Readers!
     It is well-known, that this Poem was written in some ironic form and was addressed to Edward Thomas, to one of not so many real friends of Robert Frost from 1913.
     “No matters which road you take, you’ll always sigh, and wish you’d taken another”
     The reply of Edward Thomas was as following:
     “You have got me again over» Path not taken…. I doubt if you can get anyone to see the fun of the thing without showing them and advising them what kind of laugh they are to turn on”.

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adolatkal (44 posts) May 27th, 2008, 09:36 PM

Dear Readers!
     Literary critics and Robert Frost himself reevaluated many times this poem. Even his opinions about it were very changeable. In 1961 Robert Frost wrote: “You have to be careful of that [The road not taken]; it is a tricky poem, very tricky”

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jayshri (4 posts) May 28th, 2008, 07:55 AM

“Selling The Sky” by Chandrkant Sheth
     I once had been to a narrow lane
     to sell the sky.
     The residents of the narrow lane
     took me for a lunatic.
     I was made fun of,
     I was manhandled,
     I was pelted with stones.
     My clothes were torn off.
     They tried to make me unclench my fist.
     But could the sky ever be in one’s fist ?
    
     Poor people of the narrow lane !
     They don’t know
     that the sky could never be kept
     in one’s pocket, in a carpet bag, or a trunk, or a fist.
     I was merely going to lift their drooping eyelids
     and show them the sky !
     They were going to get the sky free !
     The selling of the sky was but a ruse !
     But the residents of the narrow lane—
     they drove me away
     and went to sleep,
     burrowing their faces deep in their pillows.
    
     Once again I dragged myself
     and kept hoping that the sky will be sold
     tomorrow, if not today,
     and kept breathing deeply, with determination.
     Well to begin with
     these residents of the narrow lane
     and, what’s more, the selling of the sky—
     the transaction
     couldn’t possibly have been over that soon .”
    
    
     The poem is a translation from its original Gujarati version,written by a famous Gujarati poet Chandrakant Seth. Shorn of complicated imagery ,the poem is a delightful take on the lives of the urban people who live in their narrow lanes without turning their gaze to the vastness and the freedom of the sky .The beauty of the poem is not so much in rich lines or in exquisite imagery as in its starkness and irony. The typical Gujarati family lives in its perpetual concerns of money making, staying huddled in claustrophobic houses. They do not try to come out of their narrow lanes to enjoy their freedom of open spaces and the blue sky. The entrepreneur in a Gujarati tries to sell even a fistful of the sky! The poet is trying to sell them the sky because that is the only language they understand .

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jayshri (4 posts) May 28th, 2008, 07:56 AM

This is by Mahmoud Darwish - the unofficial poet laureate of Palestine. Signifying the loss of the Palestinian identity....
    
     I am from There
    
     I come from there and remember,
     I was born like everyone is borne, I have a mother
     and a house with many windows,
     I have brothers, friends and a prison.
     I have a wave that sea-gulls snatched away.
     I have a view of my own and an extra blade of grass.
     I have a moon past the peak of words.
     I have the godsent food of birds and olive tree beyond the ken of time.
     I have traversed the land before swords turned bodies into banquets.
     I come from there.I return the sky to its mother when for its mother the
     sky cries, and I weep for a returning cloud to know me.
     I have learned the words of blood-stained courts in order to break the rules.
     I have learned and dismantled all the words to construct a single one: Home

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speterkar (2 posts) May 28th, 2008, 03:27 PM

Dear Friends,
     Yes, it's a lovely poem. While reading it, however, I was wondering what the poet meant by wanting to sell the sky. I thought, though I love nature and freedom, I might be a bit pedestrian wanting a reason for this but then I was amazed and utterly amused when I saw the explanation: Gujarati people's "perpetual concerns of money making". So that's it. I find it very ironic that while a poet wants to draw people's attention to their shortcomings, he can't avoid the same behavior to this extent. How much does he want for the sky? A long transaction indeed.
    
     I think it's a fine poem but the image is well out of place here. Ruins the effect for me, sorry. Could somebody explain if I'm mistaken?
     Cheers from
     Peter

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bluecat (4 posts) May 29th, 2008, 10:21 AM

This is a beautiful poem - thank you very much for posting it. I like the apparent simplicity but outrageousness of the statements.
    
     It's a wonderful image - selling the sky but secretly hoping to make people notice and appreciate what they already have.
    
     One question - who is the translator? Being an occasional translator myself, I think they should also get some credit.

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bluecat (4 posts) May 29th, 2008, 10:34 AM

I'd like to post one of my favourite contemporary poems which is by James Fenton.
    
     However, I'm a bit concerned about the copyright issue - the book this poem comes from is still in print and James Fenton is still alive. Poets deserve all the royalties they can get!
    
     What are the guidelines for this, please?
    
     Sarah

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jayshri (4 posts) May 29th, 2008, 01:57 PM

Appreciate your sensitivity! As far as I know the translator was Sitanshu Yashaschandra.

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ChrisL (210 posts) May 30th, 2008, 02:16 PM

Hello everyone
    
     Thanks a lot for all the enthusiasm for poetry you have been showing. It's really great to have your favourite poems here.
    
     Just replying to Bluecat - only poems that are not under copyright restrictions can be posted here.
     Please, if you want to post a poem from a contemporary writer, make sure you have a written permission from the author to do that.
    
     Looking forward to reading more of your verses :)
     Chris

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bluecat (4 posts) June 1st, 2008, 06:35 AM

Thanks for that Chris.
    
     The poem by James Fenton is "This is the wind in a field of corn" - it's in his collected poems, and everyone should rush out and buy it as it's wonderful.

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Tanguene (219 posts) June 2nd, 2008, 10:41 AM

Thanks for this invitation.
    
     I love poetry and mostly the kind of Worsworth, Pope, Villon, Dante, Kipling and African revolutionary poetry. But, for this time I would like to share a bit of my poems, if there's room for such in the "Corner".
    
    
    
     Children, No Blame
    
     Since then,
     Fish, for the grownups
     Eggs, for the grownups
     Meat, only for the grownups!
    
     And then,
     The shoemaker, false doctor
     The doctor, office boy
     The wife, whore
     Children, homeless
    
     The world, false promises
     Your children, crazy!
    
     Tanguene.
    
     This poem can be found on readersarena@blogspot.com, a blog on creative writing. It includes short stories you may enjoy, and one of the short stories "The Grave Number 256802" was read and discussed along the British Council Book Club last year (Which unfortunately is no longer on). The writing is an outcome of reading in my experience and as we said in our group "the seed has been sown, let it grow" we promote our writing.
    
     The poem touches a cultural aspect on how different generations were educated in, for example our country, Mozambique. In the past our education was full of "tabus", I mean, a lot of things were prohibited for children to do, even some kind of food were "rationed" and not allowed to children; today the children can have whatever they want...
    
     But, one interesting aspect to look at is that, in most of cultural and educational analysis comparing generations it looks like the older one with all prohibitions is praised and meant to understand better the importance of life than the new one with lots of freedom. This difference is the core of the poem, and to make it a piece of art, the author chose not to blame; or perhaps he suggests the contrary...
    
     your view on this can help improve our writing or visit readersarena@blogspot.com to enjoy a lot of writing.
    
     Tanguene
    
     PS: A collection of 6 short stories was offered to British Council and you can access the stories on the blog.

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Tanguene (219 posts) June 4th, 2008, 09:17 AM

Hello Everyone
    
     Were I lucky, happy I would be! I've lost a copy of John Milton poem "The Expulsion from Eden", the version in English. For those who can enjoy Portuguese here we are:
    
     Paraíso Perdido
    
     Eles, Olhando para trás, todo o lado oriental
     Do paraíso, tão tarde contemplam sua morada feliz,
     Ao trémulo de um clarão da espada flamejante; à porta
     Uma multidão de terríveis rostos e braços ardentes.
     Algumas lágrimas verteram, mas enxugaram-nas logo.
     O Mundo todo estava diante deles, onde escolher
     Um lugar de repouso e futuro Destino.
     E eles, de mãos dadas, em passos incertos, lentamente,
     Atraveis do Éden tomaram o seu caminho solitário.
    
     John Milton (Portuguese version from “Vidas de Grandes Poetas” )
    
     I wanted to share my response to this poem. It is the best work of art I ever read, with no boundaries of any kind (colour, region, whatever...) and reveals the illumination of humanity as all. The first time a delved in it, I fell in love before I understood why. One day, I accessed the poem in English, I was even tempted to say it was my first time I come across it (it seemed the translation was incomplete).
    
     The poem doesn't mention names of people, but it brings the image of our parents being "beaten" and expelled fromm Even. And one comment I read says Milton by "Eles" (they) meant Adam and Eve, therefore brings an understanding of our parents being Adam and Eve. The poet doen't say it, but one can argue one's right to think so, anyway the poem is there, standing with its pride. That's really a work of art.
    
     And today, I sang a poem I wanted to share:
    
     Mother!
    
    
     Why have you
     Around your waist
     Kerchiefs around tied
     Bell deep inside pressed,
     Does not hurt, mother?
    
     Like years gone,
     Men hunger-killer belts tied.
     Kerchiefs!
    
     Your offspring,
     Men, women
     The dream of a better tomorrow
    
     Today,
     All hunger and starvation
     Don’t cry
     Our fertile land, hope tomorrow is better
     Mother!
    
     tanguene
    
     You can find it at readersarena@blogspot.com
    
     Tanguene

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Tanguene (219 posts) June 9th, 2008, 10:17 AM

Hello!
    
     Here is another poem I would to share!
    
    
     On the Legend
    
     He bore the cross,
     Was beaten bitterly,
     Tears, his children dropped,
     Weighing down his backs
     Was the cross of sacrifice!
    
     His children
     Inherited such legacy
     Waiting for his unsure return,
     Over centuries
     Kneeling before the cross
     Heavier than his is
     Their cross,
     The cross of poverty!
    
     Tanguene
    
     If you live in poverty, you look around and one is tempted to think His cross was lighter and less painful than the one people living in poverty have to carry on their bacls everyday.
    
     Tanguene

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Tanguene (219 posts) June 10th, 2008, 03:07 PM

Hi,
    
     After I read this I asked myself: How can a living man write this? How can a poet let you know the pain in his heart by giving you the pleasure of knowing the truth hidden behind his sadness? (Displays a cross of snow upon its side./ such is the cross...)
    
    
     The cross of snow
    
     In the long, sleepless watches of the night,
     A gentle face -- the face of one long dead --
     Looks at me from the wall, where round its head
     The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light.
     Here in this room she died; and soul more white
     Never through martyrdom of fire was led
     To its repose; nor can in books be read
     The legend of a life more benedight.
     There is a mountain in the distant West
     That, sun-defying, in its deep ravines
     Displays a cross of snow upon its side.
     Such is the cross I wear upon my breast
     These eighteen years, through all the changingscenes
    
    
     And seasons, changeless since the day she died.
    
     Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
    
     http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-cross-of-snow/
    
     Tanguene

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MON AMI (45 posts) June 10th, 2008, 04:27 PM

Tanguene, congratulations!
    
     i mean, i love your poems! theys are a kind of a mirror through which the wolrd is open! your poems have horizons, long horizons... strong feelings!
    
     as for "O Paraiso Perdido", i also loved it. it seems like having endless interpretations... but it also reminds us of love.
    
     so, lets love one another and live together as one!
    
     foever!
    
     MON AMI

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Tanguene (219 posts) June 12th, 2008, 09:32 AM

Hello Mon Ami,
    
     A child of Africa, the one Africa we dream of, the real Africa of love and understanding, I knew you would break in and talk of love. The poem may remind us of love, yes! Before I go further with comments I would first like to share the "Original" verse in English,
    
     "The Expulsion from Eden
    
     In either hand the hast' ning angel caught
     Our ling'ring parents, and to th' eastern gate
     Led them direct, and down the cliff as fast
     To the subjected plain: Then dissapeared.
     The looking back, all th' eastern side beheld
     Of paradise, so late their happy seat,
     Waved over by that flaming brand, the gate
     With dreadful faces thronged and firey arms:
     Some natural tears they dropped, but wiped (them soon;
     The world was all before them, where to choose
     Their place of rest, and Providence their guide:
     They hand in hand with wand'ring steps and slow,
     Through Eden took their solitary way."
    
     John Milton
     I love this peice, talking about love again. As I said earlier, the tranlsation seems unfair, because for instance, it seems to hide away part of the first act. "In either hand the hast'ning angel caugth..., The parents don't leave the paradise, they loose it against their will, they even drop tears in the 2nd act, though they "wiped them soon". The angel doesn't appear in the portuguese version, which breaks the chain and rythm of the poem.
    
     I love this piece, and I say it again! and I talk about acts in it, only because for my understanding I have choosen to slice it up in 3 parts (and I use the : as traffic lights) - The loss of paradise, the repetence, and the finding of the keys for opening the world of their own, where they will live freely and take their own risks in the world they were to live in from that day onwards. The Destin!
    
     It must be love..., you're right brother, when you suspect it seems to have many interpretations, I see a billion of questions behind it, like who the parents are, what have they done, what they deserved... and we would be like
    
     Tanguene
    
     PS: My Childhood
    
     I remember
     When, like moonlights
     When another ran in front
     Another was running behind
     Trying to step on each other shadows,
    
     I’m stepping on your shadow!
     I’m stepping on your shadow!
     We giggled
     We crazily laughed,
     Running towards nowhere!
    
     Tanguene

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Sanghita (44 posts) June 15th, 2008, 03:55 PM

Dear Tanguene
     Your poems made me experience a strong passion I too share in terms of identity. Strangely but definitely as post-colonial subjects our subjecthood is defined often by the hegemonic gaze. We all try to invert the gaze in an effort to create our own respective subjecthood - only in futility - as by doing that often what is created a mimic individual (Bhabha, 1996). the distinction between mimicry & mockery is really thin - they even merge at times while it is a question of one's identity and subjecthood. I'd like to know other's response to my understanding. Am I getting it right? or my understanding is partial?
    
     I'd also like to share one of my poems here:
    
     Resolution
    
     I'll not let go my right to be
     In spite of your disapproval
     In spite of your frown
     Instead I'll walk along the way
     yet untrodden
    
     I'll not let go my right to sky
     The sky may be enough high
     for my reach
     the clouds may scaffold my right to sun
     'cos the sky's right is mine too
    
     I'll not let go my right to say
     the language, if proves inadequate
     I'll invent new words
     I'll adorn it with new meanings
     yet unintroduced!
    
     I'll not let go my right to be
     let the world have its own tradition
     let the word sway towards you
     I'll toss the world to my way
     yet unseen.
    
    
     Sanghita

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Sanghita (44 posts) June 16th, 2008, 04:59 AM

Dear Friends
     sorry there is a typing error in the following line - "the distinction between mimicry & mockery is really THING." Please read the sentence as "the distinction between mimicry & mockery is really THIN."
    
     Looking forward to hearing more on this from you all.
    
     regards
     Sanghita

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Tanguene (219 posts) June 16th, 2008, 01:58 PM

Dear Sanghita
    
     Your post has hit my heart profoundly, mainly because of your suspicion on mockery being present on my poems, if I well understood that. Funny beacuse you find mockery too close to mimicry! It may be acceptable!
    
     I think it's a good point you've raised on that though I personally have always looked at my poems and stories as simple creative works, outcome of my reading and effort for exploring my imagination. My reality and day to day life make it impossible to go on living without creating a place where I can be happy and enjoy life away of crowded and noisy human life and activity - I've found this place in literature.
    
     The mockery (or satirical) style works are the best I enjoy in my reading. It brings hope, life and happiness. Look at this piece, and you'll find out how much truth and bravery is behind satires/mockery:
    
    
     "Crossing the Bar
    
    
     Sunset and evening star,
     And one clear call for me!
     And may there be no moaning of the bar,
     When I put out to sea,
    
     But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
     Too full for sound and foam,
     When that which drew from out the boundless deep
     Turns again home.
    
     Twilight and evening bell,
     And after that the dark!
     And may there be no sadness of farewell,
     When I embark;
    
     For through from out our bourne of Time and Place
     The flood may bear me far,
     I hope to see my Pilot face to face
     When I have crossed the bar. "
    
     Alfred Lord Tennyson
    
     http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/crossing-the-bar-2/
    
     Alfred is for me one of the bravest we ever had. He doens't deny the end of life (or death if we can put it like this) neither challenges the Creator, it seems he even accepts fate in this poem, but his dream and hope is "TO SEE MY PILOT FACE TO FACE/ WHEN I HAVE CROSSED THE BAR - Nice dream for the wiseman, isn't it? No fear, but he'll bravely cross the bar - INCREDIBLE!
    
     In another peom of his he assumes that even if we don't know how, we are born to die. I would say we're born to live, but then who am I to say that's true?
    
     Your poem "Resolution" is great, indeed. I love that you kept 5 lines to 5 lines per strophe - that makes her appealing! And, the hegemonic gaze is greatly noticeable in it . I see the "poet!"or the subject crazily looking for something new in a old world of deapprovalls, frowns and denials. He/her seems to be looking for something virgin (a way "yet untrodden", yet unintroduced, yet unseen) and you know what: I read your poem and enjoy it most by replacing the line <<'cos the sky's right is mine too>> by the line <>. HOW-? I simply do it mentally, I cannot change your poem!
    
     Tanguene
    
     PS:
    
     Celebrating
    
     The children's day
     We, the homeless:
    
     Had mum told me this
     There's hunger and disease,
     Right and wrong,
     Good and bad!
    
     Had she told me,
     In the streets in the cold they sleep
     My equal bros and sis!
    
     Had she told me,
     After all suffering,
     To the dust poor, rich
     They return.
    
     Had I a choice,
     Wouldn't be here, today!
    
     Tanguene
    
     The 1st June is the celebration of "world children's day", but some of our children don't even know that, and for some this is the day to remember they're like "dogs", turning over dust bins and dumps looking for something to eat - This is true, at least in my country!

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ChrisL (210 posts) June 16th, 2008, 09:19 PM

Hi Sanghita
    
     Thanks for sharing your poem with us. Would you conside posting here some of those you sent us in the LMCS list? They are so beautiful.
    
     As for the other post, I've edited and corrected the mistake there. Thanks for calling our attention to that.
     Love - Chris

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ChrisL (210 posts) June 16th, 2008, 09:21 PM

Dear Tanguene
     It is really inspiring to see that this space is being used by teachers who can express themselves through poetry. Thanks a lot for giving us the opportunity to read your poems.
    
     More! More!
     Cheers - Chris

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Sanghita (44 posts) June 17th, 2008, 04:55 PM

Dear Chris
     Of course I can repost here those poems that I sent earlier. Thanks so much for considering my poems for discussion. I would really like to have colleagues' comments on my poems. I have always felt so shy about my poems - I am not sure about their aesthetic qualities :P
    
     Chris you appear to me like a mentor - encouraging me to so many thing I have never done before. My sincere gratitude to you.
    
     Love
     Sanghita

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Sanghita (44 posts) June 17th, 2008, 05:03 PM

Dear Tanna (If I may)
     What is true for some children in your country is true for my context as well. I live with some neighbours who live on the footpath/pavement. Children's day is like another day in their lives. We have a school run for children from nearby slum. We are trying to bring some of children living on the pavement. Today one of them started his schooling. I feel so happy for him. Each possibility of a new beginning makes me feel so happy. I feel so sad when I see my daughters (aged 8 and 6) go to school while children of their age just stare at them - I feel responsible for their misery in a way.
    
     Your poem appears to be a statement made by those who remain beyond the circle of opprtunity and a better life. It touched my heart.
    
     Thanks for sharing your creation.
    
     Sanghita

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Tanguene (219 posts) June 19th, 2008, 09:59 AM

Hi,
    
     One thing I've learned through appreciation of creative reading/writing is that we can always read or write something, however simple might be, but employing our creativity make it a work of art.
    
     The following poem is nothing but a greeting in my cultural beckground, I mean, for my parents and siblings and all relatives bound in the same cultural context we can view this as a simple greeting with nothing special, we can have it as a way of saying HELLO to each other. I bring this in poetry for raising appreciation among the passionate about creative writing and bring knowledge existing and formed in our cultural context, which unfortunately is being old-fashioned, the youth no longer care about - It's a greeting beetwen two people, first one and then another:
    
     The sunrise
    
     The sun has risen,
     There's no much,
     The children play,
     We thank seeing it arise,
     As we live, we live in hope
     We'll thank if we see it sets.
    
     We too, we live in hope,
     There's no much,
     We thank to have seen the sun,
     As we'll thank to see it sets
     As for the pleasure of the flesh,
     We'll thank if it feels good!
    
     Tanguene

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Tanguene (219 posts) June 19th, 2008, 02:50 PM

Hello Chris, Sanghita, Mon Ami...all the board.
    
     It’s only now I’ve noticed I’ve lost a post in the web or somewhere whereby I thank Chris for all his appreciation and compliments and Sanghita/the board for the entire share. In such post I was bringing the following piece with my response to it, which I’ll try to bring again for share - “Life is about sharing”:
    
    
     Late, Late, So Late
    
     Late, late, so late! and dark the night and chill!
     Late, late, so late! but we can enter still.
     Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now.
     No light had we: for that we do repent;
     And learning this, the bridegroom will relent.
     Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now.
     No light: so late! and dark and chill the night!
     O, let us in, that we may find the light!
     Too late, too late: ye cannot enter now.
    
     Have we not heard the bridgegroom is so sweet?
     O, let us in, tho' late, to kiss his feet!
     No, no, too late! ye cannot enter now."
    
     Alfred Lord Tennyson
    
     http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/late-late-so-late/
    
     I love this poem for one thing: The powerful contrasts in it (So late! but we can enter still), denials (too late! Ye cannot enter now), acceptance/repentance (No light had we: for that we do repent), begging (O, let us in) and then, in the end it seems the door is definitely closed and leaving the reader in the dark, more ignorant (No, no, too late! Ye cannot enter now) which makes it a complete and powerful verse and makes me feel and think a lot has happened in it, but at the same time think nothing has happened at all! It seems there’s fear for commitment (the bridgegroom will relent) and willingness and joy in compromise (…the bridgegroom is so sweet).
    
     I would like we share our comments and responses to it.
    
    
     Tanguene
    
     PS:
    
     From Ecclesiastes
    
     How much ignorance,
     How much wisdom.
    
     How many lies,
     How many truths.
    
     How much hunger
     How much is...
     Bread?
    
     "It’s all useless,
     Life is useless
     Is like chasing the wind!"
    
    
     Tanguene

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Sanghita (44 posts) June 19th, 2008, 03:43 PM

Dear Tanna
    
     Thanks for these two excerpts from Tennyson and Ecclesiates.
    
     I read the poem by Tennyson as a dialogue - between two people - the giver and the receiver - the one who determines and the one who obeys what is determined - in relation to a decision. The binaries that you point out complete the cycle of dominance ("ye cannot enter now") and submission ("O let us in, tho' late, to kiss his feet") somehow - be it spiritual, political, sociological or ideological.
    
     Interestingly the excerpt from Ecclesiastes also plays with binaries to get across the message. It reminds me of the image of a scale - two sides keeps up the equilibrium. Thematically the two excerpts are bound in a way. What do you think?
    
     Here I'd like to repost some of my poems (as suggested by Chris) for your comments.
    
     1. TEARS
    
     Tears trickle down the cheek,
     Ending its journey of woe
     Leaving just the salt behind.
    
     The tear tastes like blood –
     Blood without its crimson,
     Liquid yet heavier than a rock.
    
     The indelible mark remains
     - exposing the scar inside.
     Tears trickle down the cheek
     Or oozes deep inside sans manifestation.
    
     2. SNOWFLAKES
     Falling snowflakes I held
     At my palm
     Moistening my moments of happiness
     They melt into memory.
    
     3. BIRTH
     Cruel Time! You abort the possibility of my fruition.
     Yet I bent upon to achieve the motherhood.
     The unborn foetus in my womb will carry the torch
     I light today –
     I nurse my hope
     - my revolt
     - my dream to be
    
     To be with full right
     To be with brave might
     To continue the unfinished fight
    
     Through my blood this desire runs deep
     I rise above my nightmare to a new sunny morning.
    
     A mother is born unnoticed!
    
    
    
     Looking forward to your comment on these. With love and regards
     Sanghita

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Tanguene (219 posts) June 20th, 2008, 09:02 AM

Dear Sanghita,
    
     "Birth" is a powerful excerpt, very touching and beautful. It's the style of poetry I like, mainly by the way it ends: It come with a rythm and then without warning it falls down (A mother is born unnoticed). I wouldn't like it if it was linear (A baby is born unnoticed, for instance) it would make it a common, earthly and vulgar poem. I wonder a mother being born and not understanding why a mother and not a baby is the question which will surely make me revisit the poem. I personaly like to say the unnexpected, inverting the natural order of the world while our sight focus on it - that's art in my opinion. I see a woman stongly fighting for having a baby which is her right unofortunately denied by the nature.
    
     Tanguene.

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ChrisL (210 posts) June 20th, 2008, 08:50 PM

Dear Sanghita
    
     Thanks a lot for your kind words and also for posting the poems - you know I loved *Snowflakes*
    
     Thanks also to Tanguene for your poems and I would like to invite all of you who have already tried your pen at some poetry to share your poems with us. It's being really an enriching experience and perhaps in a near future we will have material enough to publish an 'ELT e-Reading Group Anthology' :) What say you?
    
     Keep them coming!!
     Chris

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ChrisL (210 posts) June 20th, 2008, 09:03 PM

Hi everyone
    
     OK, my turn to post one of my favourite poems but it is so long that the best thing I can do is to give you a link.
    
     Please, click here to read Coleridge's The Rime of the Ancient Mariner
    
     Cheers - Chris

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Usha (6 posts) June 22nd, 2008, 06:11 PM

This is my first reply, indeed the first time I am writing on this forum. It's a delight to find a favourite right on top of the pile; more so, that with the replies I have read to this, there is so much more sensitivity to the poem and the theme I gather. I loved the poem that Sara has shared too, and Chrisl's work with his(her?) learners too has brought much into context.
    
     I too have this as part of the syllabus to be taught to 13-14 year olds, and it has always been a wonderful experience each year to read this poem together! The lines we really have the longest discussion about are these:
    
     I took the one less traveled by,
     And that has made all the difference.
    
     For me the difference has been that very positive change we find in our journey of life, but I have been surprised by ever so many insightful and almost convincing perceptions to the opposite! That is what makes poetry, especially Frost's poetry so appealing and amazing!
    
     Thank you, once again for the experience, all over again!

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Usha (6 posts) June 22nd, 2008, 06:25 PM

Dear Chris
    
     Could you please tell me how to find and read all the replies that come with each post? I guess, being new to this, I am finding it a bit difficult to navigate:)
    
     Also, can one post one's own poetry here, for discussion?
    
     Thanks and best wishes
    
     Usha

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MON AMI (45 posts) June 23rd, 2008, 07:37 AM

Hum, i love poetry! I have seen that all of the poems shared here are wonderful and they inspire me in several ways!
    
     now, i would like to share one of my poems i write when I am happy with me, myself and I. My poems are simple and easy to understand, now that my country is not an english speaking country and we need to write while taking into consideration the reader as well.
    
     one world!
    
     imagine the world
     turning round and round
     one ocean surrounding
     one world without continents
     and islands…
    
     people sharing differences
     and dancing the same songs
     of freedom and colours
     together as one!
    
     wild animals becoming
     our pets
     sharing swimming pools
     with dolphins whales
     and crocodiles…
    
     the world where there are no
     children crying and mothers starving,
     no more homeless boys
     fantasies and toys
     to fool humankind,
    
     no more boundaries and walls
     rich and poor
     colours and hate
     envy and jealous
     betrayal and jail
     dreamers and prophets…
    
     one world
     with one flag
     of love and friendship…
     freedom and peace
     falling like drops of rain blessing
     the world poets will call
     paradise!
    
     MON AMI
     More: www.monami08.blogspot.com (Round-Table)

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Porlock (15 posts) June 23rd, 2008, 02:25 PM

A teaching idea: distribute colour magazines and write up the following list of words: lonely, crowd, golden, dancing, stars, gay, wealth, bliss, pleasure. Ask the students to find and tear out pictures that they associate with each of these words and then group all the pictures that go with each word. Next read the poem aloud very slowly. Stop each time to get to one of the words and ask the students to reject any pictures that don't match the image in the poem. Because almost all the pictures the students have torn out are miles away from Wordsworth's images, this activity illustrates the difference between the world we live in and the world Wordsworth wrote about. The activity works even better with students who already know the poem.
    
     If you haven't got enough colour magazines, instead ask the students to brainstorm words that they associate with each word you've written up.

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Tanguene (219 posts) June 24th, 2008, 08:52 AM

Hi Mon Ami,
    
     I like the idea whithin your poem, that of a "paradise" for and named by poets! The colours of their flag (the poets' paradise) are very interesting: Love, Friendship..., freedom, peace. Hum! We can still dream, hope, understand. Such world, isn't such world the Poet's Corner? ... a nice world to be, with "no more boundaries and walls, rich and poor..."
     Dreamers and prophets...
    
     Before the door is closed and allow no more prophets, I would like to leave this for sharing, beacuse nobody knows what tomorrow is, and nobody has never been in such tomorrow, besides all attempts of predicting and deciding the future, humans have not reached tomorrow yet, it seems. Tomorrow's a dream of angels, it can be real and not real. For celebrating the coming of tomorrow, and make it possible to have a glance of tomorrow, the poem starts from yesterday to today and to tomorrow. It finds out a lot of contrasts - they are natural contrasts, we can feel this contrasts in our day to day life:
    
    
     Tomorrow
    
     Outside golden,
     Inside gravestones!
    
     Plant a lot,
     Harvest a little!
    
     Cover blankets,
     Not enough warmth!
    
     Gluttony,
     Never fed up!
    
     From the beginning,
     To no end!
    
     Tomorrow,
     Still a dream of angels,
     And never shall happen!
    
     tanguene

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Algaude (5 posts) June 25th, 2008, 09:52 PM

Beautiful poems, Sanghita!
     Especially the idea of mother being born through her first labour. The phenomenon would have been unnoticed if not you! OR "The Tears" the way tears are like 'blood without its crimson' - it's like another mystery uncovered...which makes me write such lines:"It is of God to conceal a matter, and of a wise heart to uncover it. Whether it is Shakespeare or Tanguene or Sanghita - it is a miracle - to conceive poetry!"
     I'm amazed of how poetic words and images are capable of penetrating hearts and minds of people, sometimes hearts hidden behind thick walls. In Lithuania we have a genre we call it 'singing poetry' : you take a poem, your own or of another poet, put it together with a simple melody with your guitar, voice or another instrument and it has power! Concerts of such 'sung poems' draw crowds in Vilnius, our capital city. Usually the songs are done by actors, but can be ordinary folks as well. People are hushed when they listen. They are hungry in their hearts - perhaps nobody sang to them or read to them when they were little...or they are simply starving for more? My husband and I are fans of this and we are also doing it - I'm looking for poems and melodies, he's putting them together on his guitar and then we sing them. We love it. It's a pity I can't sing it here:(
     Algaude

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Algaude (5 posts) June 25th, 2008, 10:26 PM

Hello all,
     I'd like to share my favourite poem. It became my favourite 20 years ago when I was a student at the University and it is still one of my favourites in English today. I just came across it in an Anthology of English and American verse, published in Moscow in 1972. it penetrated through the walls of my heart then. Actually it played a major role in the process of me becoming a Christian out of an atheist. And now it still makes my heart pound faster with its vivid images and light, but breathtaking form of a sonnet.
    
     Charles Causley (written in the 1960s)
     From "A Normandy Crucifix of 1632"
     I am the Great Sun
    
     Algaude

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Tanguene (219 posts) June 26th, 2008, 03:34 PM

Dear Aglaude,
    
     This poem is interesting! and one most impressive thing in it is the form. All the lines except the last set out with "I am your" or "I am the" and the rhyme "me" and "y" and the ". " and ","alternate at the end of each line. And if you look at where he places "not" (or "you do not") one has to wonder, this is artistic! It's been long time I've last read a poem with rhyme! And this is beautiful, I calculate how much might have been of a challenge to have it read, I sincerely praise, and praise the author of this.
    
     The end is also impressive, is like saying you deny what I am, so than "forsake! leave me alone!" - Seal up your soul with tears, and never blame me."
    
     Who to blame, if the world we live in is not perfect? It takes bravery to say it in 14 lines of a poem.
    
     Tanguene

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Tanguene (219 posts) June 30th, 2008, 10:44 AM

Dear All
    
     I personally have chosen literature as my hobby for one thing: It's all creativity, any name, object similar to any living or real thing is simply coincidence. For example, if you write in a book a name similar of a country whatsoever, this continues concidence.
    
     This poem I made for my Zimbabwean friend, who after briefly visited his home country came sweating and had a sigh of relief when he finally got to not his home country. We talked about the situation at home, he said it's TENSE. What are HIS (We meant by HIS HIM) friends doing?
    
     I finally made this poem for my friend:
    
    
     Good Friends
    
     No blame,
     Nothing did
     Instead, bought him drinks
     And more drinks him bought.
    
     Today,
     His house in ruins falls!
    
     And,
     Their hearts,
     They,
     They’re falling in laughter!
    
     Tanguene

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Tanguene (219 posts) July 2nd, 2008, 10:12 AM

This is also from my collection on readersarena@blogspot.com. I was born in an area where nearby is a railway (50 metres or so), and my father could always tell us he wakes up at the train whistle and got ready for work:
    
     Night and Day
    
     There were two risings,
     The moon rising at night
     The sun rising at dawn
    
     And,
     The train is whistling
     Time for toil,
     Time you’d wake up
    
     Wish there were no risings at all
     There’d be no time for sleeping at all
     For in sleeping, nothing you achieve at all.
    
     Tanguene

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Sanghita (44 posts) July 2nd, 2008, 04:07 PM

Dear Algaude
     Thanks for your kind words. You know what - we have a similar tradition in Bengal - i.e. of singing poetry. we have "gitika" - i.e. a whole narrative to be sung, much like ballads thought not exactly the same. we have "tushu" and "bhadu" songs sung by women as part of a festival. the theme of these songs is always a woman's life, her growing up and inevitable isolation from her dear ones. they are so sad but real.
     This is a part of our oral literary tradition. do the "poems" you mention are published before they are sung? in our context these poems are never printed. this orality is so amazingly powerful.
    
     With love
     Sanghita

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Sanghita (44 posts) July 2nd, 2008, 04:13 PM

Dear Tanguene
     our contexts are so similar! you know what - I was born in a small town near a railway station and we used to know the time by passing long-distance train. with "Black Diamond" Express passing our home we used to start studying - with "PH 002 - Panduah Howrah" Passanger we used to get ready for school and the dinner would be served after the "return Black Diamond" express crosses home at 9:45 pm! In a day of Strike we knew that the life stands still as their was no whistle of the train to remind us what time of the day or night it is.
    
     I feel I know you Tanguene as a neighbour :)
    
     love
     Sanghita

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Tanguene (219 posts) July 4th, 2008, 08:49 AM

Dear Sanghita,
    
     Thanks for we unexpectedly we find out we're neighbours somehow.
    
     The following poem I adress to all the "Yankos" in "Amy Foster" and everywhere, those like "birds caught in snares" in persuing the dream of living in places where "gold" can be picked up from the ground. Just picked up!
    
    
    
    
     Lost
    
     In his dream,
     The parents waiting
     For the dream of their children
     Witness something better in life.
    
     Such is life
     Like in a misty morning
     Thick mist that
     Swallowing all the horizon
     The people and their dreams
     All the same, nothing better
     From yesterday, today, tomorrow!
    
     It’s all human blindness
     The cross bending their backs!
    
     Tanguene

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Algaude (5 posts) July 5th, 2008, 10:55 PM

Dear Sanghita,
     It is lovely to know that you are from Bengal :)and that you have the oral tradition of 'sung poems or ballads'. In our culture we use only written texts now.Most of the texts sung are written by modern poetss or by the singer him/herself. But it wasn't so about 200 years ago, most of life then was described by women spinning wheels or men making hay on the fields orally. Most of those have turned into folksongs and are nowadays written down by scholars and literature students and once in a while unwritten ones are discovered.
     The Lithuanian language is the oldest Indoeuropean language and has its roots in Sanskrit, and some words are similar with modern Hindu. We have a strange word for'thank you' which no other neighbouring European country has, that is 'aciu', pronounced 'achoo'. I was told that in Hindu a very frequently used word is 'acha', which also means something positive, like 'OK'. Is that right, do you know? Do you have a similar word in Bengalese?

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Sanghita (44 posts) July 6th, 2008, 05:34 PM

Dear Algaude
     Thanks for your mail. I know that there are Lithuanian words that sound very similar to some of our Indian languages - like "un, divi, tri" (is it how you say "1, 2, 3" in your language? or may be I've written it wrong) - your "divi" is very close to bangla "dui" (two), Hindi "do" and Sanskrit "dwi" for "two".
    
     Yes in Hindi we have a word "accha" to mean "good" and "OK" among several other. In Bengali also we have a word "accha" to mean "OK," or "alright."
    
     could you please send me Lithuanian words for "1 to 20?"
    
     The Bengali goes as follows
     1 = Ek
     2 = dui
     3 = tin
     4 = char
     5 = paanch
     6 = chOe
     7 = shaat
     8 = aaT
     9 = nOe
     10 = dOsh
     11 = Egaro
     12 = baaro
     13 = tEro
     14 = choddo
     15 = ponero
     16 = sholo
     17 = shotero
     18 = aThero
     19 = unish
     20 = kuri
    
     In Hindi the words are similar.
    
     Love
     Sanghita

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Tanguene (219 posts) July 7th, 2008, 09:00 AM

Dear All,
    
     It was after my friend and countryman, a Modern Artist actually studying in "China Central Academy of Fine Arts", Beijing. He sent an email to tell me he and his girlfriend read and enjoy my poems and I found myself offering him one, which I would like to share at our board, the wonderful encompass reading group:
    
     The Two Birds
    
     My sister in law,
     Care for our brother
     The one beloved brother you've taken him
     Along the secrets of life, and made him happy.
    
     With joy,
     The two birds can
     Achieve what only humans can:
     You be his pillow-mate
     Him be your pillow-case!
    
     Tanguene

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MON AMI (45 posts) July 8th, 2008, 02:21 AM

tanguene, although this poem is for your sister in low, iam allowed to read it. i hope she enjoys and treats your brother in a positive way, in and outside the pillow.
    
     iam late for sanghita, but i need to say the "resolution" is my favorite, and i dont need to write about how to change the world, how to get all i want, iam going to aks sanghita, whenever i have no solution... and she is going to tell me:

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MON AMI (45 posts) July 8th, 2008, 02:36 AM

Oh, I was saying: I ll toss the world to my way
     yet unseen.
    
     thats wonderful, Sanghita!
    
     Iam sorry to ask, where are you from?
    
     OK, i used to talk to my candle whenevr i wasnt happy, but now, i know what to do: "I ll toss the world to my way yet unseen"! read my past, sanghita! now i no longer talk to my candle!
    
     Well, i know Sanghita is smart, so, only for you, i can tell a secret, iam not talking to a candle, iam sure you will find out!
    
     TALKING TO A CANDLE
    
     how long have we been
     taking care,
     your light always shining
     on my pillow
     and your shadow
     always braking and breakin'
     my horizon!...
    
     my poor candle,
     sometimes is the wind
     shaking your light,
     sometimes raindrops
     blessing the ground,
    
     the time you forget yourself
     and live a dream!,
     feeling lost in the endless
     winds of change,
    
     no matter where you are,
     my hands are the
     shelter of your light!
    
     with my hands,
     I will carry you
     around the world
     and praise your name like
     a crazy man talking
     to his candle:
    
     why are you fading away?
     why are you getting blind?
     why are you becoming a stupid?
     why are you going astray?
     why don’t you stick
     to my hands?...
    
     tell me,
     why are you always
     unsatisfied?!
    
     MON AMI

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ChrisL (210 posts) July 8th, 2008, 04:58 AM

Dear Usha
    
     First of all, welcome to the group and I'm glad you are enjoying the poems here.
     Sorry for this late reply but I was trying to figure out what you meant by 'all the replies to the post.'
    
     Actually, all the replies are here in the order they are posted. The numbers you see after the name of the poster refer to the number of posts that person has written in the whole forum and not the number of replies to each specific message.
    
     I'm not sure if I have asnwered to your question. Please, let me know if I can help you in any other way to navigate in smooth waters here :)
    
     Welcome once again!
     Cheers - Chris

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ChrisL (210 posts) July 8th, 2008, 05:08 AM

Hi all
    
     Wonderful to see so much creativity and poetic inspiration being shared here. Thanks a lot for this!
    
     For the ones like me who don't have a poetic vein and are happy enough being able to appreciate what others write, there is the consolation of having you and so many other talented people writing poetry.
    
     I'd like to share one of my favourite poems and which means a lot to me.
    
     SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE (III)
    
     by: Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)
    
     Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
     Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore
     Alone upon the threshold of my door
     Of individual life I shall command
     The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand
     Serenely in the sunshine as before,
     Without the sense of that which I forbore--
     Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land
     Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine
     With pulses that beat double. What I do
     And what I dream include thee, as the wine
     Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue
     God for myself, He hears that name of thine,
     And sees within my eyes the tears of two.
    
    
     I would also like to renew the invitation to all of you to share here the poems that touch you.
     Looking forward to reading your choices.
     Cheers - Chris

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Sanghita (44 posts) July 8th, 2008, 08:21 AM

Dear Mon Ami
     Thanks so much for your inspiring observations. This forum has been extremely helpful in my growth as a reader and writer.
    
     I am from West Bengal, India. I teach English Language and Literature in a College in West Bengal.
    
     I liked your poem. Here's another poem for you to read. I wrote it after reading your poem.
    
     INCUBATION
    
     Its long since we’ve been taking care
     Its very long since we’ve been taken care of
     my lights are mostly overshadowed
     by bigger lights.
     am stripped off my shadows
     for I was made a shadow of the Other
     My horizons are receding beyond my reach
     with advances made by the Other
    
     the taper of my flame is fluttering
     with strong wind
     raindrops bless me too
     for I have fire hidden in my bosom
     Fire, that can overpower all bigger lights.
     Fire that tends future lives
    
     I cannot forget my self
     Am not allowed to forget my meager self
     the lesser sex
     the mother of the bigger sex
     the mother of the bigger lights
    
     From churchbells to market squalor
     Remind me of my sacred duty
     Of tending my “flame”
     Despite bigger lights
     Despite bigger shadows
     Despite strong winds.
    
     I’m waiting for my flames to go bigger
     To grow bigger into pyre fire
     To emanate a phoenix
     From ashes of burnt out life.

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Usha (6 posts) July 8th, 2008, 12:27 PM

Dear Chris
    
     Thank you for the warm welcome:) And yes, that answers my query quite fully!
    
     This is one of the most interesting forums of discussion I have visited, and there is much to glean and enhance oneself with, not to mention share oneself too! I would like to echo Sanghita here, about the help this forum gives on perspectives and expressions.
    
     Thanks again.
    
     Regards
     Usha

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Usha (6 posts) July 8th, 2008, 12:32 PM

Dear Sanghita
    
     I am moved by the poem you have shared here: Incubation.
    
     There is a subtle intensity in the tone, a self assuredness, and yet strangely a hint of poignancy! I find the articulation of the voice and expression go beyond the personal, to perhaps a socio cultural level too; where I would like draw a comparison on this being related in sense to the beliefs that Hinduism holds on whereby the soul is freed at birth to meet a greater destiny!
    
     The closing stanza, especially, is a revelation.
    
     I know I have missed much, not having spent time to go through the poem that instigated this response in verse from you:) but I hope you will excuse me!
    
     I did enjoy this poem immensely. Thank you.
    
     Regards
    
     Usha

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MON AMI (45 posts) July 8th, 2008, 01:36 PM

and okeee, now I know, from India. Iam from Tanguene's land, Mozambique.
    
     and oh, you are my teacher! my bachelor was in Linguistics and Literature and I love Languages and Literature in general. I write in Portuguese, English and Italian. Iam now doing English Teaching in Australia, so uau, something in common here. good!
    
     and you know, in my Literature I was comparing myths from India, Africa and Genisis (the Bible). Many things in common, but hidden there. I have an image of India now, and its really a good place, although I dont know if you believe in Brama (maybe you dont call this way, this is Portuguese).
    
     You are so strong, or maybe you have strong feelings him. all your poems have something deep and powerful. Iam one of those men fond of Gender Equality and I would like to see a poem about Women Strength, in general. What women think is good for them, in your society? Just a feeling! Write it and post it here.
    
     Incubation: iam sure your flame is already big, at least I can feel the heat now!, the fire in your bosom is getting all men cool! you are so BIG, Sanghita! I liked your poem, and iam sure you are an happy teacher!

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Sanghita (44 posts) July 8th, 2008, 02:52 PM

Dear Usha
     Thanks so much for your kind words and observation. We are happy to have you here. Why don't you post some of your poems here for us to read and "know" you?
    
     you know what - I've been writing for looooooong but never thought of showing to anybody. This forum, particularly Chris, inspired me to show it to my friends in the forum. I'm enjoying sharing my poems and feelings with you. I'm so greatful for your time and your support.
    
     Looking forward to read your poems :)
     love
     Sanghita

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Sanghita (44 posts) July 8th, 2008, 03:06 PM

Dear Mon Ami
     My god! you are a polyglot - you know so many languages so well that you can create literature through them. I must tell I'm feeling envious :)
    
     "Brama" - do you mean "Brahma" - "the formless divine soul" ? I do.
    
     I know what you mean when you say "What women think is good for them, in your society?"
     Here's a small response
    
     What is the best for me….
    
     The fire inside
     Burns my flesh outside
     The charred body moves about
     From well-wisher to whale-wisher.
    
     I loved you
     You told you loved me!
     Your words touched my untouched mind.
     Your eyes touched my yet untouched body.
     I wanted your hands to touch me.
    
     Your hands touched someone else
     Someone whom your father chose for you.
     Someone who wanted somebody else.
    
     Our fathers did what was best for us.
     Our father did what was best for OUR life.
     You, the father will do the best for your girl.
     All the girls will wait for the best to happen to them
     Decided by somebody else.
    
     Please let me know what do you think about it.
     Love and regards
     Sanghita

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pilar (40 posts) July 8th, 2008, 06:09 PM

Dear Sanghita,
     your flames have gone bigger despite bigger lights. They have reached Argentina. When my students and I read about your inspirational flame, we experienced the feeling of that which will never die out. Thanks for your poetry.

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Sanghita (44 posts) July 9th, 2008, 05:01 AM

Dear Pilar
     Thanks so much for your kind words. I feel privileged to be a part of this group of extremely encouraging friends and accomplished readers.
     I love Argentina because I love the football artist called Maradona.
     with love
     Sanghita

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Usha (6 posts) July 9th, 2008, 09:44 AM

Dear Sanghita
    
     I do know what you mean, when you speak of this forum being such a wonderful insipiration, simply to share and encourage, and be encouraged!
    
     And so, I have decided to take that step forward, with your kind invitation, and Chris' too, to post one of mine. Though I have been blogging and posting on a couple of other forums, the comfort and insight that this forum is indeed very different. Thanks and gratitude for this must, I am sure, go to the forum and its moderator, along with all the members here, who are consistent with their suggestions, expressions appreciation, and encouragement.
    
     This is one of my personal favourites, which, at this moment, holds very true for me.
    
     ***
    
     The Liminal
    
    
     To look at life
     beyond that distant horizon
     is something I love to do-
    
    
     In the liminal spaces abounding.
    
     Of your gaze, in which
     I see times past, and
     The promise of future.
    
     Of that child’s laughter
     pulling me along in its wake-
     A delight, sheer joy in innocence,
     Back to a time, when nothing soured.
    
     In that bolt of lightning
     which rips apart the sky.
     and gives a glimpse, being a window
     To power and beauty, incomparable, of nature!
    
     In that word on a page
     which in itself opened up
     a thousand possibilities-
     of use, abuse and experience!
    
     Of a friend, or maybe a stranger,
     who takes you places,
     knowingly, unknowingly
     On to that threshold
     you never knew was there.
    
     Through the ink
     that is the medium
     for the soul to express itself-
     bare and raw, in all its glory.
    
     But most of all, the Liminal Space
     of finally not being-
     when the eyes close, deeper into the self
     flying above all earthly bonds-
    
     When I am the Liminal
     for my own soul.
    
    
     (15 August ‘07)
    
     ***
     The word "Liminal" was a concept I came across while reading a link shared by a friend, meaning, "threshold".. to open spaces which take us forward into other dimensions, perhaps of thought, or action. The blog that I read belonged to Cate Kerrdelune. It makes for very interesting reading too!
    
     This forum in particular has brought me a threshold again, where fresh insights and new perspectives make the Written Word all the more exciting! Thank you again for this opportunity to post and share a slice of it here:)
    
    
     Regards
    
     Usha

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Usha (6 posts) July 9th, 2008, 09:50 AM

Dear Sanghita
    
     You new post, on "What is best for me..." is such a statement of fact, for so many of us, here in India. The girl child will, I fear, for some more years, perhaps decades, still have someone else decide for her... However, there is a sense of universality too, in the sense that it speaks of relationships, and the all pervading loyalty to family decisions that still are ingrained in the psyche of a lot of us, anywhere we belong!
    
     The irony is subtle and is ever present, each stanza of the poem! More to chew upon and ingest, the injustice (?) one perpetrates, even upon oneself, either as a Father, or an Offspring...
    
     And finally, "What is best for me..." I truly wonder even if we know:)
    
     A thought provoking poem, Sanghita; thank you for sharing it!
    
    
     Regards
    
     Usha

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Tanguene (219 posts) July 9th, 2008, 12:27 PM

Dear All,
    
     How wonderful and artistic answer Sanghita gives Mon Ami for the question "what women think...?" In exchange we got a poem which seems to bring the vision of all a society, in reading it you get image of tears, fears, desapointments and challenges awaiting women (or must be for all the youth, as it sounds even men go for that "someone whom your father chose for you"). Is it about arranged marriage? Are chlidren happy with what "our father did waht was best for OUR life? (why OUR in capitals?)
    
     Too much in one poem
    
     Tanguene

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MON AMI (45 posts) July 9th, 2008, 01:53 PM

oh... well, i can admit somehow... but I still have to learn more languages to be a real polyglot.
    
     I mean Brahma yes, thats it.
    
     The poem is really a good picture of women feelings, strong feelings... not only in your country, but in many, now that there are things which are done because of cultural beliefs, you know!...
    
     but iam sure nowadays not everybody waits for someone else to Decide for them. things are changing, anyway, iam sure in a positive way, to enable women to be free... to be what they are, equal...
    
     and yeah, once more, a wonderful poem, Sanghita!
    
     MON AMI

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Tanguene (219 posts) July 9th, 2008, 03:51 PM

Dear All,
    
     I've been reading Villon this week. The poem I share now may not be his best, but the most sharable from his work and I enjoy the "contrasts" and despair and mocking style. Most of his works you see him like he belongs to the world of the dead (while expecting his hanging to come, he asked "us" not to laugh at his (and friends) hanging bodies). His style is touching and is like he wrote from the dead to and for the living. his most striking biography places him beetwen buglars and great poets.
    
    
     Ballade: Du Concours De Blois
    
     I’m dying of thirst beside the fountain,
     Hot as fire, and with chattering teeth:
     In my own land, I’m in a far domain:
     Near the flame, I shiver beyond belief:
     Bare as a worm, dressed in a furry sheathe,
     I smile in tears, wait without expectation:
     Taking my comfort in sad desperation:
     I rejoice, without pleasures, never a one:
     Strong I am, without power or persuasion,
     Welcomed gladly, and spurned by everyone.
    
     Nothing is sure for me but what’s uncertain:
     Obscure, whatever is plainly clear to see:
     I’ve no doubt, except of everything certain:
     Science is what happens accidentally:
     I win it all, yet a loser I’m bound to be:
     Saying: ‘God give you good even!’ at dawn,
     I greatly fear I’m falling, when lying down:
     I’ve plenty, yet I’ve not one possession,
     I wait to inherit, yet I’m no heir I own,
     Welcomed gladly, and spurned by everyone.
    
     I never take care, yet I’ve taken great pain
     To acquire some goods, but have none by me:
     Who’s nice to me is one I hate: it’s plain,
     And who speaks truth deals with me most falsely:
     He’s my friend who can make me believe
     A white swan is the blackest crow I’ve known:
     Who thinks he’s power to help me, does me harm:
     Lies, truth, to me are all one under the sun:
     I remember all, have the wisdom of a stone,
     Welcomed gladly, and spurned by everyone.
    
    
     Merciful Prince, may it please you that I’ve shown
     There’s much I know, yet without sense or reason:
     I’m partial, yet I hold with all men, in common.
     What more can I do? Redeem what I’ve in pawn,
     Welcomed gladly, and spurned by everyone.
    
     Francois Villon
    
    
     http://www.tonykline.co.uk/PITBR/French/Villon.htm#_Toc71176000
    
     Tanguene

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Sanghita (44 posts) July 10th, 2008, 09:47 AM

Dear Mon Ami
    
     What you say about the change in the world is partially true - in the sense that this change affects only those privileged with education, job, strength and consequent self-confidence. How can I say that the world is chaging in a big way since we still have honour killing in the world mostly affecting women!
    
     I'm not negative about the reality my friend. I do believe that this world will change "one of these days" but as a member of the group of recepients of partial/no justice I feel our decisions and desires are still largely moderated by the patriarchal expectations of women's role in a society. Those who dare to go beyond this norm are nearly treated as outcasts and therefore undesirable.
    
     Love
     Sanghita

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Sanghita (44 posts) July 10th, 2008, 09:56 AM

Dear Tanguene
     Yes the exsplicit theme of the poem is a broken relation and arranged marriage - though i was thinking of most contexts in a woman's life where her decisions are not volitional but imposed.
    
     Yes you are right - apparently even men are not beyond this helplessness. But I always wonder whether men can be compelled into doing something completely without their cognizance!
    
     what do you think?
    
     Love
     sanghita

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Tanguene (219 posts) July 10th, 2008, 04:02 PM

Dear Sanghita
    
     I enjoy the vision in "The Da Vinci Code" which promotes the idea of women being powerful, inteligent and born for leadership as well as men, but the historical, religious and cultural manipulations have brought the wrong picture we now hane - of women being not what they really are (Mary was to replace Jesus in the leadership!). Through reading we learn to challenge our views, and I would like to suppose you're not one of those women supposed to be weaker than men.
    
     In our cultural contex it sounds like that, for men parents seek to compell them into what they (men) can nod their agreement, accept and understand. Even if one chooses to follow a different way from the one the parents chose, it can be settled down any time in future, but it's not the same for women. If a man becomes rebelious against his parents choices he can make them change their minds through time for they fear losing his support as the "backbone" of the family, while if it's a woman they can even chase her away from home.
    
     There's a lot of partiality, but this picture have been changing slowly. Our Prime Minister is a woman (which would be insultous at that time) and we've a couple of women as ministers, MP's, Directors and in so many leading positions.
    
     The truth about the HOLY GRAIL will one day be revealed - women powerful as men!
    
     Tanguene

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MON AMI (45 posts) July 11th, 2008, 11:42 AM

ok, you've got it: EDUCATION and JOB. those are the tools all over the world, in my opinion!
    
     But iam sure the 3rd objective of this millennium is that, women empowerment, and iam sure after 10 or more years, things will be settled down.
    
     So, no worries women, men are now your fighters... for the better of your life! mainly educated man!
    
     this is a secret: the only difference between man and woman is physical! the rest is all the same! and maybe men use their physical power to hide the HOLY GRAIL (as Tanguene said)
    
     Tanguene, you enjoyed "the da vinci code" hum!? you are right man! its amazing... its like waking up from a long long night... you know, when in the morning you kick the blankets and wash your face... and go to the window and say to yourself: what a wonderful sunrise!...
    
     In short, Sanghita, We just need to be patient, just this!...
    
     everything is gonna be alright (nice song)!
    
     MON AMI

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MON AMI (45 posts) July 11th, 2008, 11:52 AM

Sanghita, dont worry about everything you hear ok, just tell all women this: no fears... no tears. and the poem bellow is senseless maybe, but i just want you to read the title. just the title. here we go:
    
     no fears… no tears…
    
     words and worlds
     in the world
     of meaningless
     words,
    
     one says I love you
     and throws a sarcastic
     look,
     you fake you don’t see
     and you kiss away…
    
     one cries I hate you
     in a bright
     laughter,
     you miss yourself and wish
     you were not the same,
    
     one swears I love peace and freedom
     and the next day
     is another… shit!,
    
     one says goodbye
     and then follows
     your lonely way,
    
     one shares your bed
     and the next morning
     becomes bad,
    
     one carries commandments
     in the right hand
     and red wine
     in another,
    
     … and now that you
     have seen the one!,
     don’t shed tears
     in this endless world
     of words…
    
     MON AMI

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dibyadyutir (2 posts) July 12th, 2008, 04:47 PM

This is something for everybody..I am definitely not a poet but your posts really gave me a lot of breathing space..I dont know whether I can really explain the phrase "breathing space" but essentially I felt at peace with myself reading all your beautiful creations..thank you sanghita di, Mon ami,Tanguene..

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Tanguene (219 posts) July 14th, 2008, 03:30 PM

Dear Mon Ami,
    
     I love the piece your share with us, No fear...No tears, and it's like I would ask who are those holding commandments in one hand and wine...
    
     I would like to share the following peice:
    
    
     Fraternity of Words
    
     The sky
     is an m'benga
     where all the arms of the mamanas
     tread again on the pellets of stars.
    
     Friends:
     however strange the words
     if they contain real music
     only need someone to play them
     to those same rhythm to be
     united in sisterhood.
    
     And I believe that in a spasm
     of harmony with all things
     ronga and algarvian words gang together
     in this satanhoco paper
     and constitute the poem.
    
    
     By: Jose Craveirinha.
    
     From: forum-cidadania.blogspot.com
    
     I can tell some of the meanings from ronga language to help understand the poem: "m'benga" traditional instrument for grinding soft corn to make thick poridge. It's like half-moon instrument made by clay, women sit around it and singing they stir up the soft corn with a timber-pole untill is ready for cooking - and fantastic he uses the word "pellet of stars". "Mamanas" actually means "mothers" or women. "Satanhoco" is something or someone bad, hateful. The rest is in English. Tough I don't simpaphise with the translation (the original is in portuguese) but it worths sharing. This poet (Craveirinha) his works are not easy to translate and keep the full meanings he brings in his works. I've been looking for his poetry for sharing, but unnofortunately (for the encompass board) his work is in portuguese.
    
     Tanguene

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Sanghita (44 posts) July 14th, 2008, 06:17 PM

Dear Mon Ami
     Such a wonderful poem! thanks so much for sharing this with us. You r right the world is full of opposites and may be that's what makes lkife worthy of all tears. Tears purifies and brings back equilibrium by letting out one's pent up emotions. This tear is not for those who carries commandments in one hand and the red wine (also blood???) in the other. This tear is for one'w own self - celebrating the fearlessness. I loved the tender but reassuring touch of the poem.
    
     Lots of love
     Sanghita

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Sanghita (44 posts) July 14th, 2008, 06:22 PM

Dear Tanguene
    
     Is this translation done by you for us? Thanks for taking this trouble and sharing this poem with readers in the Forum. Have you noticed - how many new poems we have been reading! Its really amazing!
    
     I liked this poem very much - short but with a beautiful fragrance of wet mud after the first shower of rain! I can smell the wet mud!
    
     Love
     Sanghita

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MON AMI (45 posts) July 15th, 2008, 03:24 AM

actually when i wrote this i was not thinking its a poem, it was a revenge. because someone said something and even swore it was true, and then did something else.
    
     commandments are all good things and wine represents, not the "Jesus blood", which is a positive thing, but war and every bad things that makes the world crazy.
     it can be blood as well, every naughty things! so, from now on, when someone tells you something, try to understand what s/he is really really saying deep inside... its not easy, but for me, as a Psycholinguistics lecturer, its quite easy and funny (to read someone's mind)
    
     in short, its all about "false promisses".
    
     have a nice day!

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MON AMI (45 posts) July 15th, 2008, 03:36 AM

hum Tanguene.
    
     thanks for your mistake! ah ah ah ah...
     you think this is a poem? its a revenge mon ami. iam sorry, i gave you my name, but thats why i got this name. i call all my friends as mon ami, to show more friendship. but hei, its my name hum!
    
     those who carry commandments in one hand and red wine in another are all those who fake the truth and obey the lies. just these people, with which the world is fraughty.
    
     iam not talking about commandments in the Bible, because all people in Australia are blessed now, our Papa is here in Sydney, for the world youth day. i dont know if he drinks wine, i ll buy him vodka! Noooo... aham... ok, Fanta!
    
     Tanguene, u know man, how many rules and laws we have in the world? how many people follow them, among those who give us those commandments?, i mean, rules and laws? crazy world! everything just to mess our eyes "in the satanhoco papers".
     no tears... no feras.
    
     God bless everybody in the encompass!
    
     Mon Ami

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Tanguene (219 posts) July 16th, 2008, 06:41 AM

Dear Mon Ami,
    
     Blessed be you that with Australians will enjoy Papa's visit.
     Amen!
    
     My dear, I'd ask where are your spirits when talking about revenge? The piece you shared with us is beautiful and I loved you. Cheer up, cheer up..., please, the sun will shine again.
    
     Tanguene
    
     PS:
    
     Sorrow
    
     In my bed,
     Nothing bad
     You still say no,
     How much pain
     Pain for that!
    
     Peace peace,
     Keep it for tomorrow
     It hotter than this
     It's for thyself
     You'll enjoy it all!
     All!
    
     Tanguene

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Tanguene (219 posts) July 16th, 2008, 09:36 AM

Dear Sanghita,
    
     Very pleased if you loved the poem by Craveirinha. In fact, his posterity seems to have brought his work to sublimity. I havn't translated the poem, but found it in English already and brought to the forum. You cannot imagine how happiness and joy it is to read his poems, in the context he wrote it or even beyond.
    
     Look at this one:
    
     Three Dimensions
    
     In the cabin...
     the go of the machine
     in cap and overalls
     holds in his han the secret of the pistons.
    
     In the carriage...
     the first-class god
     elaborates his scheme in regulated air.
    
     And on the branch-line
     - feel flat against the steel of the coaches
     bursting his lungs
     the god of trolley.
    
     By Jose Craveirinha
    
     From: Penguin book of modern african poetry, at http://books.google.com
    
     I've always wished to bring this poet to the forum, but the dificulty is still that of the language, he writes in portuguese and his poems are more powerful in the original by the author. You can get some in English, but you don't feel happy.
    
     He writes against colonialism and racism in a hot context when his people were still under colonial rule. You can imagine how brave he needed to be for opening up his emotions to the world around.
    
     This poem is in three verses/strophes, different in writing and message. It's like three poems in one...and you can see the THREE DIMENSIONS in full, and that's the name of the poem.
    
     Tanguene

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Tanguene (219 posts) July 17th, 2008, 09:29 AM

Dear All,
    
     I've made typing mistakes on the poem, I wish I could correct for a better understanding of the "story" there, interesting story in a single poem.
    
     Would you please note the following:
    
     Three Dimensions
    
     In the 3rd line written <> read <>
    
     In the 4th line written <> read <>
    
     In the last line written <> read <>
    
     I read this poem like a short story, a good short-story with 3 characters (The god of the machine, the first-class god and the god of the trolley) which evolve in a partinioned setting in movement (the train) and the three characters each in his partition (the god of the machine - in the cabin, the first-class god - in the carriage and the god of the trolley-in the branch-line) is what makes the THREE DIMENSIONS!
    
     And look, each god is busy with its own concern, in different partitions while one "elaborates his schemes... another care for the "pistons" while another "... against the steel of the coaches/ bursting is lungs". Their difference in places, emotions, attitudes and concerns make this poem unique and sublime.
    
     The length of the story is universal, the poem rings the bell at any time and generations, past-present-and the generations still to come.
    
     Long live Craveirinha.
    
     Tanguene

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Tanguene (219 posts) July 23rd, 2008, 08:52 AM

Dear All,
    
     Just for sharing:
    
     The Sun of God
    
     And,
     The moon,
     Three days before His resurrection,
     Poured water over the King's head.
    
     Then,
     Darkness fell all over ...
     Tough it was not for too long.
    
     Again,
     With His crown before his waiting followers,
     Scattering all around them His warm rays,
     Like the heir of the throne used to!
    
     Tanguene

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ChrisL (210 posts) July 28th, 2008, 02:33 AM

Hi all
    
     Just thinking how many poets may make part of our lives and we don't even know...Tanguene and Sanghita are just two examples :)
    
     These are some questions to all of you:
     Who are your favourite poets?
     Is there one you come back to quite often?
     If so, is there a poem by this particular poet that you like above the others?
    
     Really curious and looking forward to reading your replies.
     Cheers - Chris

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Tanguene (219 posts) July 28th, 2008, 09:37 AM

Dear All,
    
     My favourite poets are: Jose Craveirinha (please, carefully read the two peoms I shared before: ´Fraternity of Words´ and ´Three Dimensions´), François Villon, William Wordsworth (´The expulsion from Eden´ is Eternal) Dante Alighieri, Kalungano (Marcelino dos Santos from Mozambique) Calane da Silva... , the thing is, I can always taste authors I haven´t had the chance to before and read their works to find out they are great. I bilieve every author has at least one piece you can always enjoy, it makes me love a number of authors, or better, some of their works.
    
     I go back often to ´The Expulsion from Eden´ by wordsworth and ´A Civilazaçâo´by Craveirinha. I now particularly go back to Craveirinha, for since the day I searched his work in English for sharing in this forum I´ve become enfactuated. It´s true, I reread the poems on the Poets´Corner, those which can bring me strength to face the day, each day of my being!
    
     Tanguene
    
     PS:
    
     The Rainbow
    
     It ruled the nature,
     After it raining heavily,
     The sun having not surrendered it,
     It Brightly shone!
    
     Then,
     The way was still long,
     Mixed feelings troubling them!
    
     Beyond the horizon,
     The rainbow stood up
     Not frighteningly like the lightning,
     To raise appreciation on the nature.
    
     Showing off its colours!
    
    
     Tanguene

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ChrisL (210 posts) August 7th, 2008, 01:15 AM

Hello Tanguene & all
    
     Indeed, it's hard to single out one poet, however, I'm not really sure I agree with you when you say that 'every author has at least one piece you can always enjoy'. I think in principle you are right but I confess that there is nothing I can really appreciate in Pope, for instance. His stiffness and classicisms just put me off.
    
     On the other hand, there so many poets we can discover, perhaps in special moments, and that you had never stopped to read more carefully - I'm currently rediscovening Blake. Here is one for you all..
    
    
     Never seek to tell thy love
     Love that never told can be;
     For the gentle wind does move
     Silently, invisibly.
    
     I told my love, I told my love,
     I told her all my heart,
     Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears -
     Ah, she doth depart.
    
     Soon as she was gone from me
     A traveller came by
     Silently, invisibly -
     O, was no deny.
    
     Cheers - Chris

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ChrisL (210 posts) August 7th, 2008, 01:18 AM

Hi Tanguene
     I loved 'The Rainbow'! Is it yours?
     I have sweet memories and a photo that would match it. May the sun never surrender after heavy showers!
     Cheers - Chris

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Tanguene (219 posts) August 8th, 2008, 01:12 PM

Dear Chris
    
     "May the sun never surrender after heavy showers", and may the rainbow keep on "showing off it´s colours".
    
     Happy you loved the poem, it's mine written after being under a heavy rain one of those days, which came to stop even before I could get a shelter. The rainbow showed before our sight and for celebrating to having witnessed such wonder from nature, I made the verse.
    
     You raise a good point when you say not all authors bring readable and enjoyable works, but I don´t think it applies to Pope. In fact, he´s one of my favourites.
    
     By reading his biography you learn Pope was a phisically deformed person, who couldn´t look at the world the same way like the "perfect" people. His phisical status was the driving force behind his poetry, which enabled him have an audience of all the social, emotional and phisically crippled, and those who are not. It´s a matter of understanding his contex, I think, to understanding his genius. He´s quotted saying "life is a blague" and in his work he´s not selfish for he describes the good and then, humbly bring the picture of himself being at the dark. His stiffeness seems doesn´t appear voluntarilly, it´s a result of his effort made to undestanding the two sides of the same coin, which lies in human heart: the good, and the bad. And he did it using poetry, satiric poetry.
    
     The differnce I find between Pope and Blake is that: While blake seems to bring (in the poem above) the imbalances, uncertainties and even fears of "telling" love for like wind moves "silently, invisibly", Pope brings the bravery, certainties to speak up about challenges behind human life and for those who are "not blessed", those without "attire" in their lives:
    
    
    
     Solitude
    
     Happy the man, whose wish and care
     A few paternal acres bound,
     Content to breathe his native air
     In his own ground.
    
     Whose herds with milk, whose fields with bread,
     Whose flocks supply him with attire;
     Whose trees in summer yield shade,
     In winter, fire.
    
     Blest, who can unconcern'dly find
     Hours, days, and years, slide soft away
     In health of body, peace of mind,
     Quiet by day.
    
     Sound sleep by night; study and ease
     Together mixed; sweet recreation,
     And innocence, which most does please
     With meditation.
    
     Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;
     Thus unlamented let me die;
     Steal from the world, and not a stone
     Tell where I lie.
    
     Alexander Pope
    
     http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/solitude-2/
    
     Tanguene

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MON AMI (45 posts) August 10th, 2008, 09:38 AM

Chris, is that your poem? oh, how deep it is, i like poems like this, although i cant write like that. i like this style of Tanguene, its like a bomb. keep writing Chris, we d like to read more from you.
     the topic under is also good, love. i have many poems like that, now that love has been my inspiration since when i was in love...
    
     i can share one of my poemas here, the one i wrote when i was feeling lonely! Remember this, Tanguene?
    
     waiting for an angel
    
     the wind shakes my roof
     and the silence grows in my room
     like a beast in my hopeless eyes
     spread over the open door!
    
     I peep at the window
     and see birds flying away… and
     back inside nobody breaks the silence
     rolling like a stone in my heart;
    
     I fall down on my knees
     and crawl to the door
     like a lost child looking for a breast
     in the empty wild air!
    
     I wait, wait and wait…
     and I fall asleep
     waiting someday in my dreams
     an angel will come and take me in
     a long flight to paradise!
    
    
     MON AMI

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ChrisL (210 posts) August 12th, 2008, 07:24 AM

Hi Tanguene
     Thanks for bringing your rainbow here :)
     As for Pope, I can understand your point of view and respect your personal taste; fortunately different people appreciate different things and this is what makes the whole discussion so interesting. :)
    
     You mention that it is important to understand the context to be able to appreciate a poem or a text. I would agree to a certain extend. I think it all depends on what sort of reading you are doing at a particular moment and for which specific purpose. Sometimes I choose to disregard authorial intentions and the context of creation to respond to the text as it appeals to me - my own background speaks loudly and *interpretation* is bound to my personal context.
    
     Even new historicists, who regard contextualisation as a major issue, now recognise that such readings of the context and of the author's biography are never devoid of a reader's personal response to them, which in turn will colour his/her reception of the text.
    
     Debate is open:)
     Cheers - Chris

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ChrisL (210 posts) August 12th, 2008, 07:28 AM

Hi Mon Ami
     Oh, the poem is not mine - it's Blake's. I wish I could write like him and like you!!
     I leave love to the ones like you both - l'm more used to the lack of it :)
    
     Thanks for sharing your poem!
     Cheers - Chris

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pilar (40 posts) August 12th, 2008, 07:35 PM

My favourite Poem:
     Mother
    
    
     You,
     And my being so much like
     Gone with the Wind
     And You,
     In my dreams,
     In my life.
     So like me,
     So like you in
     Your Wuthering Heights,
     So much like Maria
     In Isaacs.
     So much you, So much I.
     So much mother
     So much I.
     So much You,
     In my dreams.
     So much you.
     So much Me.

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ChrisL (210 posts) August 15th, 2008, 07:35 AM

Hi Pilar.
     Is this poem yours? Fascinating how books are woven into it...
     Cheers - Chris

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SoahamM (4 posts) August 16th, 2008, 08:34 PM

Hi Everyone,
    
     This would be my first post right here. Am a new guy in this territory. A student, preferably of all of your's and specially of Ma'am Sanghhita(Di). I am a lover of poetry, songs, and to cover it all up at once, of music. So I was beckoned by this room.
    
     Lovely fragrances of poems still fresh in my eyes. I dare not comment on any of these, but I'd surely like to mention that I'm honored to have read these. really lovely ones, painful ones, jarring ones. Especially, the ones by Sir Tanguene, Ma'am Mon Ami and of course our own professor Sanghita Didi, and all.
    
     The ones like "Talking to a Candle" and (as if its counterpart) "Incubation" really touched me. For their reply to each other felt like, I am conversing to myself, when I am in college enjoying my time with my friends and the me, when I am sitting still,waiting for something to write in my diary, just before I go to sleep. Even "The Liminal" found a reason to think me for half an hour and again after that.
    
     This was what I felt at my first glance,(alas! The first glance remains so little always).And I must say, that all of you have inspired me to such an extent, that I promise I shall return with something from my own kitchen.
    
     With love & regards,
     Soaham

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Tanguene (219 posts) August 19th, 2008, 01:16 PM

Dear Soaham and everyone
    
     Thanks for your kind appreciation on my creative writing (poetry). In fact, I've been using the forum as a growth tool which has enabled me tap on my talent (whatever it's called the passion about writing for pleasure). Before I joined the forum my interest was only on short story writing (I first accessed the forum when I was researching for Romesh Gunesekera's work as we were reading his short story "Independence" at our Book Club programme. it happened the forum was reading "Ullswater" and over Internet I joined the group ). This is simply to say that I've produced most of the poems when I felt I needed something for sharing in the forum and the experience really pays off. I enjoy this.
    
     Tanguene
    
     PS:
    
     From the dark nights,
     To Waxing Crescent,
     First Quarter,
     Waxing Gibbous,
     Half Moon
     Up to the Full Moon tonight
    
     The night is clear
     We carrying over our shadows,
     She dressed like a queen.
     And She,
     Like the Queen of the Earth,
     Full of beauty
     She kept shining brightly!
    
     To you notice
     She doesn’t care if you enjoy her
     For even if you don’t.
     And She,
     Like the Queen of the Earth
     Full of beauty
     She kept shining brightly!
    
     Tanguene.

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SoahamM (4 posts) August 20th, 2008, 06:16 PM

Hi Everyone,
    
     This would be my second post here. So, I guess there'll be causes of little mistakes of approach.
    
     But no matter what, I must be replying to get through, right? Besides, I have already promised to
    
     post something of my own kitchen...
    
     Though, this is not a place to raise political issues, yet I am very much pained to mention about
    
     the turmoil in the North-Western part of India, more specifically, its the "Kashmir Issue", and a
    
     little more precisely, its Srinagar.
    
     Why did I mention such? No, not because I didn't find any other topic, but in the last few days,
    
     I was going through some War Poetry's, Movies(Children of Men, The Pianist, A Bridge too Far,
    
     etc. among the few)etc. This "Kashmir Issue" and even some of the traces of the Tibet
    
     events(pre-olympics) influenced me to re-think about an all time favourite poet of mine. Its
    
     Wilfred Owen(1893-1918).
    
     Wilfred Owen, as we know, was not the kind of War Poet who just wrote about the consequences of
    
     War being "just" a poet, but he was a soldier and ultimately a victim too, of the World War-I.
    
     Its pity for us that we circulate his poems in print, as quotes, but nevertheless end up in the
    
     same conclusion on peace. What a satire by itself! "We 'fight' for 'peace'".
    
     So we must think it over our friendship..."I am the enemy you killed, my friend."
    
     So here we Go...
    
    
     Strange Meeting
    
     It seemed that out of battle I escaped
     Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped
     Through granites which titanic wars had groined.
    
     Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned,
     Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred.
     Then ,as I probed them, one sprang up, and stared
     With piteous recognition in fixed eyes,
     Lifting distressful hands, as if to bless.
     And by his smile, I knew that sullen hall, -
     By his dead smile I knew we stood in Hell.
    
     With a thousand pains that vision's face was grained;
     Yet no blood reached there from the upper ground,
     And no guns thumped, or down the flues made moan.
     'Strange friend,' I said, 'here is no cause to mourn.'
     'None,' said that other, 'save the undone years,
     The hopelessness. Whatever hope is yours,
     Was my life also; I went hunting wild
     After the wildest beauty in the world,
     Which lies not calm in eyes, or braided hair,
     But mocks the steady running of the hour,
     And if it grieves, grieves richlier than here.
     For by my glee might many men have laughed,
     And of my weeping something had been left,
     Which must die now. I mean the truth untold,
     The pity of war, the pity war distilled.
     Now men will go content with what we spoiled,
     Or, discontent, boil bloody, and be spilled.
     They will be swift with swiftness of the tigress.
     None will break ranks, though nations trek from progress.
     Courage was mine, and I had mystery,
     Wisdom was mine, and I had mastery:
     To miss the march of this retreating world
     Into vain citadels that are not walled.
     Then, when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels,
     I would go up and wash them from sweet wells,
     Even with truths that lie too deep for taint.
     I would have poured my spirit without stint
     But not through wounds; not on the cess of war.
     Foreheads of men have bled where no wounds were.
    
     I am the enemy you killed, my friend.
     I knew you in this dark: for so you frowned
     Yesterday through me as you jabbed and killed.
     I parried; but my hands were loath and cold.
     Let us sleep now...'
    
     [http://users.fulladsl.be/spb1667/cultural/owen/strange-meeting.html]
    
     The ultimate conclusion..."Let us sleep now...'"...seems so ironic!
     -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
    
     Truly speaking, I didn't quite find any inspiration! It was a smothering experience. And as we
    
     always do, I too have tried to produce a personal notion about peace. And here it goes...
    
     PEACE(?)
    
     Fresh forms.
     Fickle possesions.
     Nowhere near the horizon,
     That she casts her shadow.
     Washed by rain, kissed by pain,
     Look baffled, in patient flight.
     Free from shackles...
     Free from Freedom.
     Clappeting round my window shade
     Until she fades away by the sunset.
     Novice paradise
     Of the Wild Dove.
    
     [Note: Please forgive the word "clappeting". I used this to describe the sound of flapping of
    
     wings]
    
     Love and Best Wishes,
     Soaham.

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SoahamM (4 posts) August 20th, 2008, 06:48 PM

Dear Sir Tanguene,
    
     Good for you though. I mean to say, the experience. Am a novice, you see, in this field. So every time I go through the poems, feels like the dazzles leaving me wonderstruck.
     How do you keep this so simple yet deep reaching...?
     Well I am looking forward to it. Thank you very much sir, to have allowed me see through your writings and the history behind them.Thanks a lot.
    
     Best wishes and Regards,
     Soaham

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Tanguene (219 posts) August 22nd, 2008, 08:43 AM

Dear Soaham,
    
     I must confess I love "Strange Meeting", she's a beautifull satire, I'm sure to bring it into my collection. I was most impressed by the frankness beetwen the characters at their "second!" meeting, in a place where "here in no cause to mourn" "save the undone years" for it seems they knew or learned that in fighting they both lost and fell together in the darkeness. They come from a hopeless situation of war to the hopelessness of the "hell".
    
     When he says "it seemed that out of battle I escaped" one's compelled to think this character had saved his life while then, he says "I parried, but my hands were loath and cold" just to let us know that the contrary was true.
    
     I wonder at how he captured the image of "his friend" frown of yesterday which made him learn at once that wasn't their first meeting and this wasn't a strange friend at all, for they had met somewhere else before. There's a display of humanity, forgiveness in inviting the "friend" to come and rest (let us sleep now), like saying I don't blame you, and please, don't blame me for "when much blood had clogged their chariot-wheels/I would go up and wash them from sweet wells/ even with truths that lie too deep for taint", like saying before peace come, you and me can do the same thing again, even if we (they) didn't know the reasons for such.
    
     I was marvelled at the contrast: Your favourite is a war poem, and you shared in the forum your PEACE poem bringing the image of the Wild Dove "Free from shackles/Free from Freedom". Enlightining, isn't it?!
    
     Thanks
    
     Tanguene

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SoahamM (4 posts) August 22nd, 2008, 06:26 PM

Dear Ma'am Tanguene,
    
     I am really really very much apologetic for the mistake that I have done, i.e. I have mistaken you to be 'Sir'. But, well my professor Ma'am Sanghita just notified me about my mistake today. So I thought the matter must really be sorted out.
    
     Please forgive me for this stupid deed.
    
     With Love & Regards,
     Soaham

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vmc (4 posts) August 26th, 2008, 04:27 PM

Dear Jayashri,
     I enjoyed the poem very much.I think it is not the "poor people" of that lane who keep their eyes shut. Some times all of us keep our eyes,ears and even heart shut.

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Sanghita (44 posts) August 27th, 2008, 03:56 PM

Dear all
     I want to share this with you.
    
     Good deeds
    
     My ma said someone keeps a record of one's good deeds
     My ma said these good deeds free one from bondage
     My ma said I must do some good deeds
    
     I believed my ma.
    
     I found chains all around me
     shackles all over me.
     I was born with chains.
     I was born with shackles.
    
     I remembered my ma
     I tried believing I lacked in good deeds.
    
     I remember all the drops of tear from ma's eyes
     every time she was beaten up.
     I remember every drop of blood
     black rings around her eyes
     a broken finger in her left hand.
    
     I asked her - had she not any good deed to her credit?
     she kept mum.
    
     I don't ask such questions anymore.
     I try to believe i'm a body
     a body that should give pleasure
     that should bear child
     but should not ache when beaten up black and blue
     and definitely should not bleed.
    
     this is our good deed
     that is recorded -
     that is applauded -
     that is encouraged.
    
     anything else is a bad deed
     a cry loud
     a protest aloud
     an undesirable refusal to sex.
    
     all good deeds are recorded
     all bad deeds are recorded.
    
     one must be punished for the bad deed.
     good deeds are norms
     no prize for good deeds.
    
     I count my bad deeds.

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Tanguene (219 posts) September 2nd, 2008, 06:53 AM

Dear Sanghita,
    
     Your poem 'Good Deeds' is really great and I most enjoyed the ending of it: No prize for good deeds/I count my bad deeds. That's the record one might have if the teachings and reality are in contrast. This comes like a sort of formula, as it's been like this even in our cultural beckground.
    
     As a child we were happy if a minute passed without a whipping of some kind for some "bad" deed. It was like this as a child, we could always count our bad deeds like we knew who among us had "crossed" the line and the other were happy to immediately speed up to report to our parents -Childhood conspiracy.
    
     We couldn't care about the good deeds besides all the teachings from our parents to perform the good. I can now look back my childhood and wonder what might have been a challenge to go through it.
    
     might it be 'cause there were no prizes for the good?
    
     Thanks for the happy reading you provided.
    
     Tanguene

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Sanghita (44 posts) September 2nd, 2008, 05:10 PM

Dear Tanguene
     I'm happy that you liked the poem. Since the time we started our encounter with this world we are being perpetually reminded of the necessity of good deed - I always wondered about those suffering without even knowing the nature of their deeds - or may this suffering is for someone else' some kind of deed. Its so ironical - one is punished for one's bad deed (are everyone punished for their bad deeds - were people involved in genocides or bombing a place into ruins or completely eliminating a culture from the face of earth ever punished? No idea!) but one's good deed often remains unnoticed.
    
     Here's a poem for you, my friend
    
     THE HUNTER
    
     tick tack toe - going high, going low
     with a bow and an arrow
     with an eye keen to know
     its prey.
    
     prey doesn't know,
     that a bow
     that an arrow
     will mow
     the heart in hart
     the prey is smart.
    
     predator
     no matter
     whether or not
     prey does rot
     in a great tension.
     predator's attention
     pointed at a mention
     of the smart prey.
    
     When the sky is grey
     come what may
     hunter's prey
     is the game.
     none to blame
     at all.
    
     no story
     happy or gory
     Not to worry
     fate jittery -
     Prey lies.
    
     shame shame!
     None to blame
     hunter's prey.
     hunter's gay
     trophy in trey
     on display.
    
     Do not hate
     let's celebrate
     the good fate
     of our mate
    
     at least
     in gist
     she leads to feast.

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Tanguene (219 posts) September 3rd, 2008, 07:37 AM

Dear Sanghita,
    
     Thank you for the poem and all the sharing. not everybody in this world have been offered a poem today, a very special gift for the passionate about creative thinking. I keep the image of the hunter and the prey in their game (though I think it hard for the prey to take it like a game, when even our lives sometimes I played like games) and reading your poem is my celebration.
    
     I wonder how the poet could shift from hunter to prey position simulteneously and peacefully accept the three different positions and feelings (of the hunter, prey and poet) possible to notice in the poem. I, then, would like to share the poem you offer me with colleagues at the forum (I can't be selfish, we all deserve the best). Thank you again.
    
    
     Tanguene
    
    
     PS:
    
     The Hunter
    
     And the prey
     While in their game
     Before the arrow mowed
     They stopped for a while
     For the prey kneeled on its knees
     Like praying, praying and praying:
     Lord! Save us, Lord!
    
     It was the instant the hunter
     Could give in his feeling for an instant
     To allow the preying some praying time.
    
     And,
     That was before one knew
     The peril is for all us
     The living ones on the earth
     For no one is ever safe
     When behind coming is
     The beast of prey!
    
     Then,
     They all cleared off
     Leaving behind but the rising dust.
    
    
     Tanguene

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Sanghita (44 posts) September 4th, 2008, 05:01 AM

My dear friend
     your poem is very intense. You are right - "the peril is for all us" - the trick is we often don't recognise how all of us sucked into this dangerous and damaging web. We think ourselves to be safer while we all share the same vulnerable space. The hunters wait for the prey to yield!
    
     I felt like continuing your poetic argument - mine is the twin of your thought. Tell me how do you like it. Here it goes:-
    
     The Rising Dust
    
     The rising dust hence from the leftover
     leftover of our meagre existence as prey
     for from the dust we emerged
     dust being our final destination.
    
     as wanton boys....
     deleting our face from the dusty earth
     smashing erected figures to dust
    
     For them it is victory
     for us an routine end.
    
     the rising dust makes
     the Great Mushroom
     Mushroom of destruction
     Mushroom of Victory
     The two sides of a catastrophe.

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Tanguene (219 posts) September 5th, 2008, 07:02 AM

My Dear Friend
    
     Very teaching your message. It's like you could take my heart there into the depths of reality and help me even recognise how much of a vulnerable space we all share. My poem was only for raising appreciation on creative writing and in a way of showing that out of somebody's else work (your poem "The Hunter", in this case) it's possible to draw inspiration for creating another good thing ("The Hunter" poem of mine) which would be the continuation like a mother brings life for the continuation of life in this world.
    
     In sharing there's a lot for learning. And you caught the tail of my "The Hunter" (which seems to have given bitrh to "The Rising Dust", I suppose) and this is a marvelous and to stick to mind quite a great poem.
    
     "The hunters wait for the prey to yield" that's one of the most genial thought I ever heard of, and a lesson to me.
    
     Thank you for making my day a good day.
    
     Tanguene
    
     PS:
    
     The Two Sides
    
     Of a catastrophe
     Like the sides of the same coin
     They belong to the same world.
     Without recognising the perils of living,
     Of being and not being,
     They belong to the same coin.
    
     The two sides,
     With no care for the perils,
     To enjoy the differences of the living,
     Of being and not being,
     They belong to the same coin.
    
     The two sides,
     Prevent the catastrophe,
     For the sake of all the living,
     Of being and not being,
     They belong to the same coin.
    
     And even share the same perils!
    
     Tanguene

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Sanghita (44 posts) September 7th, 2008, 07:49 AM

Oh wow! oh wow! I simply love this thread. I look forward to your post and our poetic venture together. Here’s my share
    
     They even share the same peril
     the predator and the prey
     the predator inflicts it
     when the prey's at the receiving end
    
     yes, it is the peril
     that is perilous
     to all the prey
     to all the predators
     on the day
     when predators turn the prey
     and the prey predator
    
     and I watch it
     and you watch it
     unaware of our sides
     whether the prey
     whether the predator
    
     The peril remains the same
     the same remains the peril
     for you in watch
     for me in watch
    
     the coin has a third side
     neither black
     nor white
     it is gray
     it is the silver line
    
     the silverline in the storm
     after the mushroom cropped
     after the mayhem stopped
     it is not of predator's
     not of prey's
    
     This site is ours
     of your and mine
     of everyone's
     that is not prey
     nor predator
    
     the world is ours
     full of flower
     full of love
     full of resistance
     full of pride
     for each and other

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Tanguene (219 posts) September 9th, 2008, 09:19 AM

Thanks for your creation, I really loved the idea of a coin having a THIRD SIDE, that's an original thought. I like it when in reading a piece of art and come across an original thoughts I have't had before. Quite inspiring. It's a style I most enjoy bringing a poem title (name) which doesn't fall down at the first line, like you poem doesn't bring a title but one has to read only. It makes the threads beautiful.
    
     Tanguene
    
     PS:
    
     The Third Side
    
     Of a coin
     Wonder if there’s
     In gray or silver
     As the poetess dreams
     As children yesterday did.
    
     Silver is
     Your creation
     Like the mushroom
     Which the ant, child ant
     That climbs over, caring not,
     For no peril there’s
     In sharing the beauty in my thoughts
    
     Yes,
     The world is ours,
     I don’t see you,
     You don’t see I
     But toil shall we have
     To keep on riding
     In sharing the beauty in my thoughts
    
     Born in the savannah
     Towards the Oasis,
     With bravery,
     Love,
     Resistance,
     Pride,
     Of a true son of Africa
     To understand the beauty in your thoughts
     In sharing the beauty in my thoughts
    
    
     Tanguene

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Sanghita (44 posts) September 10th, 2008, 09:02 AM

Here's my reply to my poetess friend who lives far off in the globe but who lives here too, close to my heart.
    
     Celebration
    
     In sharing the beauty of your thought
     I share your world
     your heritage
     your inheritance of Africa
    
     Africa is mine too
     for I share the earth with you
     My India is yours
     for you share the earth with us
    
     This world is ours
    
     the world that is owned by
     forced boundaries
     Is not the world that is one through
     communion of hearts
    
     Some say 'tis imagined
     I say boundaries are imagined
     therefore forced.
    
     Let's join hands
     Let's break the imagined boundaries
     Let's celebrate union
     Let's celebrate cultures
     languages
     loves, faiths and dreams.
    
     With lots of love
     Sanghita

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Maria do Céu Costa (138 posts) September 10th, 2008, 06:07 PM

This is my 1st post here, you see. Firstly, I would like to thank you for sharing with us your creativity.
     Dear Sanghita, I think each of us is a flexible "thread" on this site. Neither a prey nor predator, you are right! And how wonderful it is the stretching power of each "thread" across the site!
     By the way, here we can find flowers, love, probably here and there some resistance... and very often pride. Particularly for the ones, like you, who are so sensitive and thoughtful.
     I promise to share with everyone here soon one of my few... poems.
    
     Mª do Céu

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pilar (40 posts) September 10th, 2008, 07:37 PM

Dear Sanghita and Tanguene,
     Thanks for your message: We live in one world huge embrace and the Word is what makes this happen, Thanks!
     Sanghita,
     get ready, my students have already taken the challenge: they are reading The God of Small Things and your paper and they just can´t believe that they can ask you about the novel. This chance means a lot to them. Being so far apart geographically and culturally speaking, and having the chance to talk to YOU does really empowers them. Your unselfishness does teach them a lesson difficult to forget. I do not know what they are going to ask you.
     But I do know that your answers wil mean the world to them, THANKS!!!

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Tanguene (219 posts) September 11th, 2008, 06:47 AM

Dear Sanghita,
    
     "Africa is mine too
     for I share the earth with you
     My India is yours
     for you share the earth with us"
    
     This is simply beautiful and sublime, I mean the way you move subjects and settings in just 4 lines and bring the earth in its round form as it is, to raise awareness of us all belonging to the same world (this world is ours). And there's no crisis of identity (My India is...).
    
     It is not easy to achieve that in poetry, I think. I never was happy in sharing my passion for creative writing.
    
     Thank you very much.
    
     Tanguene
    
     PS:
    
     Faiths and Dreams
    
     And loves,
     Building a dynamic triangle,
     In the heart of the poetess,
     Breaks boundaries,
     Imagined shackles,
     For the freedom of mankind.
    
     Like I in your heart
     I feel,
     Like you in my heart
     You feel.
    
     Hands waving up, and up
     From India to Mozambique,
     In peace and harmony,
     In the poetess celebration’s
     Dynamic triangle of
     Loves, faiths and dreams
     For all the living.
    
    
     Tanguene

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Maria do Céu Costa (138 posts) September 11th, 2008, 01:38 PM

Hello, Chris & Poetry lovers!
    
     Thank you for inviting us to share our thoughts, feelings, emotions throughout this "Poets' Corner".
     Despite knowing the site and having read some poems here, this is my first post. (I think my words related to the latest post by Sanghita haven't reached you...)
     I've been writing poems (a few), some of them related to professional contexts and others focusing on social issues.
     e.g. (These lines were written when we were at a colleagues gathering, having lunch after the school term was over.)
    
     TOGETHER
    
     The time has come for us to get together again.
     On this day we want to talk and live without pain.
     Great colleagues keep being around us.
     Enchanting words, wise thoughts, fond memories,
     Turn our mind to something worth living.
     Here we are apparently relaxed and happy enough,
     Enjoying every moment even if the food is tough ...
     Recalling other friends and days full of meaning!
    
     (July 2002)
    
     Warm regards,
     Maria do Céu

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vmc (4 posts) September 12th, 2008, 02:34 AM

Dear Mon Ami,
     A wonderful piece of advice that is very necessary for these days. It was a real eye opener. Thank you.
     Velu.

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vmc (4 posts) September 12th, 2008, 02:42 AM

Dear friends,
     I would like to post a poem .Please go through it and say your comments. - A TEACHER’S MUSINGS
     All the world is a school!
     W We are the students, as a rule.
     The great universe sprawling vast
     Is our campus to the last.
    
     From the cradle to deathbed
     Stretches the curriculum - He said.
     Struggling with problems in life
     Shall be the exams in strife.
    
     A queer school, it is, indeed;
     Through each and every deed,
     All teach others in gad
     Something good or bad!
    
     Folks! Is it not a wonder?
     When one commits a blunder,
     None can really punish
     To get out of the campus.
    
     God, our universal teacher
     Guides every creature,
     Towards perfection and peace,
     To keep the world in a piece.
    
     Shouldn’t we follow Him,
     In our classes to the brim?
     Just be the guide by their side,
     And make their knowledge wide!

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Sanghita (44 posts) September 12th, 2008, 04:05 AM

Dear Maria
     Welcome to the group. It's a fantastic thread I tell you. I love it. Sharing has never been such a pleasure. Thanks to Chris Lima, our leader and coordinator for providing us with such a beautiful forum.
    
     I'm sure all of us, the co-sailors on board, are looking forward to your poems.
    
     Love and regards
     Sanghita

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Sanghita (44 posts) September 12th, 2008, 04:08 AM

Dear Pilar
     Thanks for your message. I'm sorry I couldn't reply to your earlier msg. Am so busy with pre-vacation work in the College where I teach.
     To be able to share my thought on reading an excellent novel is empowerment for me too. I'm looking forward to Talking to your students and my new friends from Argentina. I'm sure the communication is going to open up a new vista of possible meaning making of the text for me.
     Love
     Sanghita

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Sanghita (44 posts) September 12th, 2008, 04:21 AM

Dear Tanguene
     Thanks for your observation on our poem and also on my poem.
     I like the idea of the triangle of love in your poem very much. Usually love triangle is associated with complications but in our case it is empowerment!
    
     Golden Triangle
    
     Dynamic triangle of love
     Never have I felt so powerful
     Never have I felt so proud.
    
     Triangle binds
     you are a side
     I am a side
     the third out there binding us
     through common points
     'Tis a human chain
    
     Hands held together,
     tight and sure
     to form a world pure
     bound by a common faith
     in celebration of the difference.
    
     Love
     Sanghita

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Maria do Céu Costa (138 posts) September 14th, 2008, 09:20 PM

Dear Sanghita,
    
     Thank you very much for your kind words.
     I was very glad to have your very first motivational thread.
     Here you all can find another poem, as I have promised. (I've been inspired on reading an article from an issue of "Current" magazine .)
    
     The Rainbow Gathering
    
     We were not there,
     But we really hope our impression can be fair...
     We simply got a view from a read on "The Rainbow Gathering".
     Now we'd like to share
     How they joined that community
     For some days of cooperative living.
    
     They all came from different States,
     Made their way across thousands of miles,
     Joining people of all ages and styles,
     Just wanting to celebrate The Independence Day-
     Focusing on mutual learning,
     Cooperating in a friendly way.
    
     Volunteers moved to and fro...
     After cooking their tasty food ,
     They served it, and everyone whooped: "Oh!"
    
     It was a huge human circle of thousands,
     Devoted people feeling the power of meditation,
     Then thanking God for their (multi) national commemoration!
    
     The event was coming to its end...
     They cared for the state of the land,
     Clearing it from all litter.
     The bare earth they decided to re-seed
     To guarantee a better life to every KID!
    
     (June 2007)

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Maria do Céu Costa (138 posts) September 16th, 2008, 01:02 PM

Dear Velu,
    
     I've enjoyed your thoughts and imagery across the poem.It has a spiritual dimension, indeed. It invites us to reflect on how much humble a teacher should be towards "our Universal teacher".
     Moreover, your lines remind us of how much we all can learn in the "School of Life"!
     I do agree on your recommendations:"Just be the guide by their side , And make their knowledge wide!"
     Cheers!
     Maria

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Tanguene (219 posts) September 17th, 2008, 07:17 AM

Dear All,
    
     I'd like to say thank you to madam Sanguita, for I've been enlightned for sharing her work (poems) and all the poems I posted in this forum are powerful poems. I've been tempted to print out all the discussion in a booklet, it's my celebration.
    
     I love the Rainbow Gathering, and it was hard to push on it, but the landing is good:
    
     "The bare earth they decided to re-seed
     To guarantee a better life to every KID!
    
     KID in capital, it left me it a question and inspired me to share with you a news I listened to radio, of an African woman, in Inhambane-Mozambique, my country of course, the journalist was telling the story of this woman who is celebrating 108 years old, 25 children, 92 grandchildren and number of great-grand children (if this is the way to say it, and hope I got the nembuers right). She doen't walk with a stick, takes cold shower, and..., the journalist said. I made this for celebration:
    
     The Revelation
    
     Of the truth
     Shall not be
     In so many
     Similar ways
     For in life
     Each
     Marks the difference
    
     Proud mother
     Like that tree
     Tree of life
     With so many branches
     Which bear fruit
     True fruit.
    
     Tanguene

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Sanghita (44 posts) September 19th, 2008, 06:28 AM

Dear all and Tanguene
     That is so wonderful. This forum has been such a great experience and inspiration. All of has contributed in a unique way in other's growth and development. I'm particularly indebted to all of you and surely Chris for conceptualising such a sharing forum. It was like a gush of fresh air when we are stressed out and trouble tossed with our encounters with life, profession, appointments and disappointments. The postings here always refreshed me - kept my creative self alive. By encouraging for something I was never sure of, for your generosity of spending your time to read posts and sending out your kind words. I feel the world is so beautiful because ordinary people like us make it so beautiful by our empathy for others, our love and care which showered in abundance through this forum. I feel so proud that now I have friends all over the world!!! literally!!!!
    
     Tanguene - as usual came up with a brilliant poem and also a great suggestion to publish poems in a booklet. That's great. go ahead.
    
     In gratitude and love to all of you
     Sanghita

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Tanguene (219 posts) September 19th, 2008, 12:28 PM

Dear All,
    
     I was not happy after I read my last post where it comes "all the poems..." I mean all the poems posted in this forum, the poems of the great poets and those of our own creation (I'm an adventure in poetry, just because I love it) are powerful, I mean all the poem are powerful and I've printed out the "poets's corner" discussion for my reading. I love reading really hardcopy or printed material and I love reading sitting in the morning sun.
    
     I would like correct my spelling or might it be a thought I didn't mean. It's something true that we're at lucky moment when we can share even our mistakes!
    
     Tanguene
    
    
    
     PS:
    
     Mother
    
     You’re a tree
     A tree of wisdom
     In your hands
     You fold it,
     In your breast
     You feed it,
     In your womb
     You bear it:
     The fruit of life
    
     The cleverest is your fruit
     The richest is your fruit
     The poorest is your fruit
     I’m your fruit mother,
     You’re the beginning
     As it told in the Genesis!
    
     Tanguene

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Tanguene (219 posts) September 26th, 2008, 08:10 AM

Dear All,
    
     I would like to share this thread:
    
     Denial
    
     From my love
     After pleading
     I pleaded and no door open
    
     Yet pleading,
     Pleading
     And pleading and no door open
    
     Yet pleading
     My heart, please go for no testing
     For like building your own house
     Slowly slowly
     One step then another
     Go and plead,
     For no pleading no door opens!
    
     I’m sorry my love,
     Very sorry for all this!
    
     Tanguene
    
    
     I've made it from some deep feelings of mine, when like I wanted to move on and bring something for sharing. I was in somewhere (relantionship) where pleading was the only way left to choose, and I've chosen it. And from the experience I was enlightened to bring this only for sharing.
    
     Tanguene

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Tanguene (219 posts) September 30th, 2008, 09:01 AM

I was discussing poetry writing with Mon Ami, starting from the idea of choosing themes like Leadership, Africa, Peace, Freedom and love and see if we can publish. The idea is to bring new poems not the one we've already shared in any forum. Sine we talk while working we've come up with new thoughts like keeping few verbs as we can, few subjects as we can, but leaving as much meanings as we can. "Simple words, strong meanings" was the final agreement, and I thought we can share this at this forum.
    
    
     Simple words
    
     And strong meanings
     In the poet's heart
     The Oasis for the reader
     In which dance and sing
     Words of wisdom
     To bring strong meanings
     In simple words
     Simple like this!
    
    
     Tanguene.

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Maria do Céu Costa (138 posts) September 30th, 2008, 06:35 PM

Dear Tanguene & All poetry lovers,
    
     I've appreciated your sincerity and your view on my poem "The Rainbow Gathering", in which you have highlighted the 2 last lines. Precisely, when we wrote KID(using capital letter), we thought of children from around the world.
     I confess it's wonderful how you immediately have got inspiration and created "The Revelation".
     Now I do feel you have positively influenced my mind.
     Let me try (with "simple words and few verbs") and dedicate the following to you, Tanguene:
    
     Your words are simple
     Your thoughts are deep
     Your heart is a gem
     Always open to welcome them!
    
     You look so kind
     And fruitful is your mind
     Never leaving a happy note behind!
    
    
     God bless you & your family
    
     Maria

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Tanguene (219 posts) October 1st, 2008, 08:26 AM

Thank you for the gift you offer me, you can’t imagine how much value it has to me having as a gift a poem. I do spend my time enjoying poetry. Deep are my feelings at learning that a poem is dedicated to me with love. I must be the luckiest kid of the world today.
    
     I would like to dedicate the following poem to you, and you’ll notice I try my best to bring it like a thank you from every kid to you. That’s the reason for choosing to name it KIDS. And notice that KIDS is not a title, but the beginning of the poem and I enjoy reading it down with no pause like in other poems if you ever noticed.
    
     The line “the one heart of every kid” is the image I could bring of every kid deserving the best for the better of mankind. The “one” word in the line is the way I've had to make children of the world come as one. The poem rhymes with combinations like: Yesterday & today, Father & mother, around & round, Love & true love, make it rhyme only to say thank you again.
    
    
     KIDS
    
     Of yesterday
     As well as of today
     Been waiting for
     The little gift from father
     Like that one
     With love
     True love
     From you,
     Mother!
    
     No gift ever melted their heart
     One heart of every KID
     Children from all around
     Round world you care for
     With love
     True love
     From you,
     Mother!
    
     Tanguene

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MON AMI (45 posts) October 1st, 2008, 02:36 PM

Hum Tanguene, i liked your KIDS. anyway, all human beings are KIDS of a mother who is a kid as well, another kid's kid...
    
     the thing i am like believing is that everlasting love is the one we get from our mothers.
    
     anyway... sometimes we can get it from someone who is not our mother, we just need:
    
    
     our time
    
     time goes by
     and I’m late again, you say!
     footprints away
     you fake you forgot
     I love you like
     the last sunset and
     the morning beats
     you danced and broke my bed!
    
     and so, why
     humans stick to blindness
     fierce smiles and
     stupid kindness?...
    
     here we are… spending our time
     and dreaming of lands
     Kings and Queens
     stepping triumphantly
     and flying without wings
     above the clouds
     in children nightmares…
    
     ah ah ah…
     there’s nothing sweeter than
     such a thing called time!,
     and now that there’s no time,
     we know every time
     can be the first time!
    
     MON AMI

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Tanguene (219 posts) October 2nd, 2008, 07:13 AM

Dear Mon Ami
    
     "Our time" is good (time) as I read it down I suspect it's a celebration poem. But your last lines at each verse are:
    
     You danced and broke my bed
     Stupid kindness?...
     In children nightmares...
     Can be the first time!
    
     And then think there're some "kicks" going on there. But the idea of we being in a time when "there's no time" make it virtual and good experience reading it.
    
     Tanguene
    
     PS:
    
     From the Heavens
    
     Mary with the golden angels
     Asked praying hard: Lord,
     Rescue the heir of the throne, Lord!
     In following the scripts
     And then he shone like
    
     The sun of god was!
    
     Tanguene

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Tanguene (219 posts) October 3rd, 2008, 07:02 AM

Dear All,
    
     As humans sometimes we find pleasure in explaining what make us happy in each piece we enjoy. The poem "From the heavens" is something with emotional story to me, which I would like to share.
    
     It was a game I was playing with myself the toiloring of this poem, wher my intention was to Write "MARIA" in vertical line of the first words and then toilor the poem. I was unsuccesful but then I got somowhere.
    
     It reads "Mary" in the second line (consider "From the Heaven" the 1st line) and reads "MARIAT" in vertical from the Word "Mary" and I play with the warmth of the sun! It was the time Maria do Ceu offered me a poem, and my mother's name is Maria de Lurdes and she gave me back a shirt I once wanted to give away to somebody and she held it. Now she said my shirts were not good, she prefered to see me with the one she kept for some years.
    
     Thanks mother!
    
     Tanguene

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Maria do Céu Costa (138 posts) October 3rd, 2008, 08:25 PM

Dear Tanguene,
    
     Many thanks for your nice words!
     You've been so generous sending me a "thank you from every kid". And today you have praised your dearest Mother who happens to share with me her very first name: Maria...
    
     Following your words I couldn't help writing this:
    
     May you always be surrounded
     By golden angels
     Protecting your ways,
     As well as your Mother's,
     Every moment brightening your days!!
    
     Take care!
     Warmest regards
    
     Maria

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adolatkal (44 posts) October 10th, 2008, 08:32 AM

Dear Chris !
     Now we are at Halima's place ,even sharing her computer ,but have some difficulties with joining our Online English Reading Club!
     Dear Chris!
     Halima announced about our club at UzTEA meeting. Now we've got 2 new READERS.
     Could you,PLS, send the Accounts to them!
     My friends ROBIYA and VASILYA vill be so HAPPY!
     To the e-mail addresses:
     gafurdjanova@yahoo.com
     vasilya42@mail.ru

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adolatkal (44 posts) October 12th, 2008, 08:33 AM

Dear Chris!
     How are you? I hope that God blessed you and you are well!I am well too.
     Dear Chris!
     I and Vasilya prepared a report for our Annual UzTEA conference to be held on November 28-29,2008 under the slogan:"Professional Development opportunities for ELT" as following:
    
    
    
    
     Dear Online English Readers!
     I and Vasilya from TSIOS(Tashkent State Institute of Oriental Studies) prepared a report for our Annual UzTEA conference to be held on November 28-29,2008 in Tashkent, the Capital of Uzbekistan,Central Asia under the slogan: "Professional Development opportunities for ELT" as following:
     Exploring the National Gallery Byte by Byte
    
     3 Uzbek universities and International educational NGO: "Strategy- civilization, gender, stability" discuss lessons learnt from recently implemented Online English Reading Project. Presenters share their findings, recommendations for improving In-service training at TSIOS.Speakers focus on issues as material development, adaptation, Googling, mentoring, peer support, encouraging intercultural dialogue in classroom.
     Presenters themselves try to be a virtual part of the National Gallery of Cosmopolitan Capital, where every painting tells a story. The symbiosis manner of presentation via London sightseeing, architecture, paintings, the short story "In the National Gallery" of Doris Lessing, the Nobel Prize Winner in Literature 2008 will foster reading and writing skills.
     Dear English Online Readers !
     I will appreciate if you can make some remarks!BTW: it was a nice idea of Chris Lima to Google me and Vasilya! We try to use this her posting at GOOGLE and promote at UzTEA conference.
     With love from Uzbekistan
     Halima

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Maria do Céu Costa (138 posts) October 13th, 2008, 07:29 PM

Dear Halima & Vasilya,
    
     Firstly, I'd like to congratulate you for this innovative Project.
     The strategies chosen to develop this Project, and focusing on relevant issues e.g. Encouraging Intercultural Dialogue, sound very relevant. The idea of including readings from the two outstanding Nobel Prize Winners(2007 and 2008) are excellent and they perfectly fit into this Project, I think.
     By the way, I've read about Jean-Marie Gustave Le Clezio and I've learnt that he has lived wonderful, unique experiences while contacting different cultures. Someone has referred to him as a "Nomad Writer".His different journeys have inspired much of his work.
     I look forward to hearing from you as you are developing your interesting Project.
     Cheers!
     Best regards,
     Maria

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vmc (4 posts) October 19th, 2008, 02:29 PM

Dear Maria,
     I would like to join you in this. What should I do?
     The poems posted here are so..oo.. oo. nice.Please guide me.
     Bye for now.
     Velu.

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Maria do Céu Costa (138 posts) October 19th, 2008, 07:43 PM

Dear Velu,
    
     Thank you for reading and enjoying my poems posted here.
     Did you mean you'd like to join me when it comes to poem writing? Would you be interested in some guidelines aimed at writing poetry? Well, dear Velu, I'm not a prolific poet, you see. I've just written some of them in English, because I find this language fascinating and I've been working in the ELT profession.Beyond it, our voice/ feelings can be shared with people from other cultures as it happens here.
     Occasionally I also write in my mother tongue, I confess.
     But, if I'm allowed to do so, I could recommend you the www.PoemHunter.com and there you can develop through reading fine poetry along with simple lines... There's also some links for poetry workshops .
     Best regards,
     Maria

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ChrisL (210 posts) October 26th, 2008, 11:30 PM

Hi Maria
    
     I hope one day we can read one of your poems here :)
    
     I like the Romantics but sometimes you get tired of so much death and sadness. Can't poems write about love anymore? I'm in sonnet mood today but since I'm hopeless as a poet so I let others speak for me. Passing the word to Mr. Shakespeare :)
    
     Sonnet 113
    
     Since I left you mine eye is in my mind,
     And that which governs me to go about
     Doth part his function and is partly blind,
     Seems seeing, but effectually is out;
     For it no form delivers to the heart
     Of bird, of flower, or shape which it doth latch.
     Of his quick objects hath the mind no part,
     Nor his own vision holds what it doth catch;
     For if it see the rud’st or gentlest sight,
     The most sweet favour or deformed’st creature,
     The mountain or the sea, the day or night,
     The crow or dove, it shapes them to your feature.
     Incapable of more, replete with you,
     My most true mind thus makes mine eye untrue.
    
    
     Cheers - Chris

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Tanguene (219 posts) October 28th, 2008, 10:58 AM

Thanks Chris for reminding us about love, and this sonnet is one of the pieces with a lot of human interconnectivity and feelings (but please, group the lines in a sonnet form you’ll see it looks different with the rhymes grouped)
    
     It seems we don’t love poems of love, but I think many of us have been running away from the responsibility of loving each other. Love as brought in this poem is painful, and I try to comment on the poem:
    
     As I was reading I felt the incapability of the eye for capturing the images which bring happiness to the heart. In the beginning you see a good connection of the eye and the mind, but there’s failure in the connection between the eye and the heart (“for it no form delivers to the heart”) and this seems to never recover along the poem therefore disappointing the poet or the subject "I" in this poem. As consequence, the connectivity between eye and mind which was excellent now begins to fail too.
    
     By reading the first line you can learn there’s a cause for all the poets’ status of mind, mood and feelings (”since I left you…”) which make the poem complete.
    
     It’s funny that at the end the connection between eye and mind not only begins to fail, but ends in a deep and illusory contrast (“My most true mind thus makes mine eye untrue”) like the poet was saying ‘the truth in my mind is not the truth I that see’!
    
     (And we can play with combinations: <> or <> – though the last hypothesis is not brought by the poet, but the reader can suspect!)
    
     Tanguene

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Tanguene (219 posts) October 29th, 2008, 07:42 AM

Dear All,
    
     I'd like to share this piece inspiration from the sonnet in celebrating love:
    
     From the sonnet 113
    
     I see with my mind
     And my eye agrees;
    
     I see with my heart
     And my eye agrees;
    
     Blinding features of you in me
     Oh Lord,
     How can I see better, Lord!
    
     Tanguene

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Maria do Céu Costa (138 posts) October 29th, 2008, 08:07 PM

Hello, CHRIS!
    
     Many thanks for addressing me as well as for this precious "gift": W. Shakespeare's sonnet 113.
     I am far from being a poet!! I just love poetry because I do think it's a unique way of voicing feelings and emotions whatever the circumstances.
     Interpreting Shakespeare's lines is not an easy job, I think.
     Now I'm venturing as it follows:
     Whenever I read the 1st line I think the poet starts trusting his mind which holds the images he wants to treasure! But, gradually, he hesitates abot the true effect of those images, because they don't have the same impact in his heart... Somehow there's a disappointment, and the poet's mind prevents him from distinguishing the real sights.
     His mind/thoughts just lead him into the lover's "feature". Sometimes love can distort "eye" and "mind", we mean it is blind!!
    
     Warm regards,
    
     Maria

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ChrisL (210 posts) November 30th, 2008, 12:34 PM

Hi Tanguene & All
    
     Thanks a lot for your responses to the Sonnet. Indeed, as Maria says, Shakespeare knew that love is blind :) but perhaps he was also the first one of the deconstructivists since he apparently knew that experiences and words depend not on their intrinsic nature but on how we see them and that what we take for reality is just our reading of things heavily influenced by our emotions and perceptions. The more I read him, the more I'm amazed by his powerful intellect and his profund understanding of what it is to be human.
    
     As for the sonnet on the page, I'm sure you know that the Shakespearean Sonnet is formed of three quatrains but there are no blank lines between them and the turn is the last couplet, which is simply indented - no blank line between the last quatrain and the coda. Unfortunately, it is not possible to indent, or underline or write in italics here for technical reasons. My sincere apologies for that.
    
     Just a bit of bibliography:
    
     Wells, S. and Taylor, G.(eds) 'William Shakespeare.' The Complete Works. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1988)

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Maria do Céu Costa (138 posts) December 3rd, 2008, 01:07 PM

Hi Chris, Sanghita, Tanguene & All poetry lovers
    
     Thank you,Chris, for the bibliography about William Shakespeare.
     This time, if you don't mind, I feel like posting something simple and easier to read.
    
     A Brief , Encouraging Note
    
     It surely was a hard time
     for you to have to say "goodbye"!
     Did she really care about your plans,
     your talks, your efforts, your dreams?
     Tell us what happened, honey, and why?
     Try and overcome it by all means.
     Keep your faith, live your days wisely,
     face your plight,
     and things will certainly end up getting right!!
    
     Maria do Céu
    
     Warm regards,
     Maria
    
     P.S. Very soon, I hope to return to W. Shakespeare or another British poet

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Tanguene (219 posts) December 4th, 2008, 11:02 AM

Dear Maria,
    
     This is excelent! A poem that could pierce into my heart. It's very touching and encouraging.
    
     Thanks for
     All your wise words
     That can change one's heart
     That can change one's day,
     And change darkeness into light.
    
     Tanguene

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mvrmoorthy (2 posts) December 19th, 2008, 06:49 AM

A poem that pierces the heart like this one by Theodore Rothke:
    
     I remember the neckcurls,limp and damp as tendrils;
     And her quick look,a sidelong pickerel smile;
     And how,once startled into talk,the light syllbles leaped for her ,
     And she balanced in the delight of her thought,
     A wren,happy,tail into the wind,
     Her song trembling the twigs and small branches,
     The shade sang with her;
     The leaves, their whispers turned to kissing,
     And the mould sang in the bleached valleys under the rose.
    
     Oh, when she was sad, she cast herself down into such a pure depth,
     Even a father could not find her;
     Scraping her cheek against straw, Stirring the clearest water.
    
     My sparrow, you are not here,
     Waiting like a Fern, making a spring shadow.
     The sides of wet stones cannot console me,
     Nor the moss, wound with the last light.
    
     If only I could nudge you from this sleep,
     My maimed darling, my skittery pigeon.
     Over the damp grave I speak the words of my love:
     I with no rights in this matter,
     Neither father nor lover.

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fgn (1 post) December 22nd, 2008, 12:38 PM

That's a really beautiful poem. One can just illustrate the idea of questioning the destiny, being independent and at the same time being responsible of what's been done.
    
     Especially that last couple:
     I took the one less traveled by,
     And that has made all the difference.
    
     This part is really the peak point where at the edge of ending the poem it totally captures the reader. And this feeling is like that it will never loose you again.
     Thanks ...

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Maria do Céu Costa (138 posts) December 22nd, 2008, 08:30 PM

Dear Tanguene,
    
     Many thanks for your generous words of appreciation.