Only got into writing poetry after I wrote a poem for my babe called 'The feeling of being on clouds above'. Im an easy going laid back chillin sort of person. I mostly like writing funny stuff, but there is a dark side to me which I find easy to put to paper. Anyway, Im not going to bore you with anymore of this...just enjoy! Here's is my fav poem, it's by W.H. Auden:
Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public
doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
Funeral Blues
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public
doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
- Last seen on Nov 26 3:26 PM 2005. Member since January 5, 2005.
- I'm a carnelian hope poet for 112 comments.
- My mood is , and quote is "Just chill".
- I am a 23 year old girl (Scotland)
- I have 112 comments, 21 poems
My Poetry
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Midnight stalks me with its cloak and dagger
awaiting to prey on my unconscious14 lines, 1 comment, June 17, 2005. In Dark -
You know when you get that voice in the back of your mind......?
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