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How about a Poetry Thread?

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prr2freya

Super Member
ECF Veteran
Wow..great stuff everyone. Keep em coming! :thumb:


Some people show their love and pain
In short, but violent bursts
Others try to hold it all in
The weight, an accumulating curse


We suffer through day by day.
Tribulations by fire is the lover’s way


Maybe they prefer you feel as they feel?
And you refuse to be coerced
Some just do as they think expected
Life’s “manuscript” rehearsed


Feeling too much all the caring and hate
The pain and the love this world creates


With little logic and a lot of passion
On the surface and submersed
What we feel is not always expressed
In some known predictable verse


Through a million minds all reaching out
Still most of it I could do without



~freya (july 2008)
 

prr2freya

Super Member
ECF Veteran

Said Hamlet to Ophelia,
I'll draw a sketch of thee,
What kind of pencil shall I use?
2B or not 2B?

Spike Milligan RIP.


Poetry can be created in many ways including sketches!!!!! yays!

I have a bit of poetry I made but the words/song do not belong to me.. Visual and auditory.. it was expressing my feelings at the time. Music flow and lyrics can drive me to tears (happy and sad ones all in the same song. then I am compelled to internalize it and build on it with whatever i can get my hands on to make the feeling.... Gaaah! OK.. anyway.. poetry:

 

Letzin Hale

Moved On
Dec 28, 2008
542
0
75
The_Lion_and_Albert_NAltMusicBanner.gif



There's a famous seaside town called Blackpool,
That's noted for fresh air and fun,
And Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom
Went there with young Albert, their son.

A grand little lad was young Albert
All dressed in his best; quite a swell
With a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle
The finest that Woolworth's could sell.

They didn't think much to the Ocean
The waves, they were fiddlin' and small
There was no wrecks and nobody drownded
Fact, nothing to laugh at, at all.
So, seeking for further amusement
They paid and went to the zoo
Where they'd lions and tigers and camels
And old ale and sandwiches too.

There were one great big lion called Wallace
His nose were all covered with scars
He lay in a somnolent posture
With the side of his face on the bars.

Now Albert had heard about lions
How they was ferocious and wild
To see Wallace lying so peaceful
Well, it didn't seem right to the child.

So straight 'way the brave little feller
Not showing a morsel of fear
Took his stick with its 'orse's 'ead 'andle
And shoved it in Wallace's ear.
You could see the lion didn't like it
For giving a kind of a roll
He pulled Albert inside the cage with 'im
And swallowed the little lad 'ole

Then Pa, who had seen the occurrence
And didn't know what to do next
Said "Mother! Yon lions 'et Albert"
And Mother said "Well, I am vexed!"

Then Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom
Quite rightly, when all's said and done
Complained to the Animal Keeper
That the lion had eaten their son.

The keeper was quite nice about it
He said "What a nasty mishap
Are you sure it's your boy he's eaten?"
Pa said "Am I sure? There's his cap!"
The manager had to be sent for
He came and he said "What's to do?"
Pa said "Yon lion's 'et Albert
And 'im in his Sunday clothes, too."

Then Mother said, "Right's right, young feller
I think it's a shame and a sin
For a lion to go and eat Albert
And after we've paid to come in."

The manager wanted no trouble
He took out his purse right away
Saying "How much to settle the matter?"
And Pa said "What do you usually pay?"

But Mother had turned a bit awkward
When she thought where her Albert had gone
She said "No! someone's got to be summonsed"
So that was decided upon.
Then off they went to the Police Station
In front of the Magistrate chap
They told 'im what happened to Albert
And proved it by showing his cap.

The Magistrate gave his opinion
That no one was really to blame
And he said that he hoped the Ramsbottoms
Would have further sons to their name.

At that Mother got proper blazing
"And thank you, sir, kindly," said she
"What waste all our lives raising children
To feed ruddy lions? Not me!"
 

Letzin Hale

Moved On
Dec 28, 2008
542
0
75
I think this is my favourite rendition and was the one that introduced me to Stanley Holloway, the narrator, and to Marriott Edgar, the author.
See the next post for another Holloway classic.


YouTube - Albert and the Lion - Stanley Holloway


The_Lion_and_Albert_NAltMusicBanner.gif



There's a famous seaside town called Blackpool,
That's noted for fresh air and fun,
And Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom
Went there with young Albert, their son.

A grand little lad was young Albert
All dressed in his best; quite a swell
With a stick with an 'orse's 'ead 'andle
The finest that Woolworth's could sell.

They didn't think much to the Ocean
The waves, they were fiddlin' and small
There was no wrecks and nobody drownded
Fact, nothing to laugh at, at all.
So, seeking for further amusement
They paid and went to the zoo
Where they'd lions and tigers and camels
And old ale and sandwiches too.

There were one great big lion called Wallace
His nose were all covered with scars
He lay in a somnolent posture
With the side of his face on the bars.

Now Albert had heard about lions
How they was ferocious and wild
To see Wallace lying so peaceful
Well, it didn't seem right to the child.

So straight 'way the brave little feller
Not showing a morsel of fear
Took his stick with its 'orse's 'ead 'andle
And shoved it in Wallace's ear.
You could see the lion didn't like it
For giving a kind of a roll
He pulled Albert inside the cage with 'im
And swallowed the little lad 'ole

Then Pa, who had seen the occurrence
And didn't know what to do next
Said "Mother! Yon lions 'et Albert"
And Mother said "Well, I am vexed!"

Then Mr and Mrs Ramsbottom
Quite rightly, when all's said and done
Complained to the Animal Keeper
That the lion had eaten their son.

The keeper was quite nice about it
He said "What a nasty mishap
Are you sure it's your boy he's eaten?"
Pa said "Am I sure? There's his cap!"
The manager had to be sent for
He came and he said "What's to do?"
Pa said "Yon lion's 'et Albert
And 'im in his Sunday clothes, too."

Then Mother said, "Right's right, young feller
I think it's a shame and a sin
For a lion to go and eat Albert
And after we've paid to come in."

The manager wanted no trouble
He took out his purse right away
Saying "How much to settle the matter?"
And Pa said "What do you usually pay?"

But Mother had turned a bit awkward
When she thought where her Albert had gone
She said "No! someone's got to be summonsed"
So that was decided upon.
Then off they went to the Police Station
In front of the Magistrate chap
They told 'im what happened to Albert
And proved it by showing his cap.

The Magistrate gave his opinion
That no one was really to blame
And he said that he hoped the Ramsbottoms
Would have further sons to their name.

At that Mother got proper blazing
"And thank you, sir, kindly," said she
"What waste all our lives raising children
To feed ruddy lions? Not me!"
 

Letzin Hale

Moved On
Dec 28, 2008
542
0
75
If you enjoyed these, just look up Stanley Holloway on youtube.

YouTube - The Battle of Hastings - Stanley Holloway

The Battle of Hastings - 1066
by​

Stanley Holloway

I'll tell of the Battle of Hastings,
As happened in days long gone by,
When Duke William became King of England,
And 'Arold got shot in the eye.

It were this way - one day in October
The Duke, who were always a toff,
Having no battles on at the moment,
Had given his lads a day off.

They'd all taken boats to go fishing,
When some chap t'Conqueror's ear
Said 'Let's go and put breeze up the Saxons;'
Said Bill - 'By gum, that's an idea.

Then turning around to his soldiers,
He lifted his big Norman voice,
Shouting - 'Hands up who's coming to England.'
That was s**** 'cos they hadn't no choice.

They started away about tea-time -
The sea was so calm and so still,
And at quarter to ten the next morning
They landed at place called Bexhill.

King 'Arold came up as they landed -
His face full of venom and 'ate -
He said 'If you've come for t'Regatta
You've got here just six weeks too late.'

At this William rose, cool but 'aughty,
And said - 'Give us none of your cheek;
You'd best have your throne re-upholstered,
I'll be wanting to use it next week.'

When 'Arold heard this 'ere defiance'
With rage he turned purple and blue,
And shouted some rude words in Saxon,
To which William answered -'And you.'

'Twere a beautiful day for a battle;
The Normans set off with a will,
And when both sides was duly assembled,
They tossed for the top of the hill.

King 'Arold he won the advantage,
On the hill-top he took up his stand,
With his knaves and his cads all around him,
On his 'orse with his 'awk in his 'and.

The Normans had nowt in their favour,
Their chance of a victory seemed small,
For the slope of the field were against them,
And the wind in their faces and all.

The kick-off were sharp at two-thirty,
And soon as the whistle had went
Both sides started banging each other
Till the swineherds could hear them in Kent.

The Saxons had best line of forwards,
Well armed with both buckler and sword -
But the Normans had best combination,
And when half-time came no-one had scored.

So the Duke called his cohorts together
And said - 'Let's pretend that we're beat,
Once we get Saxons on t'level
We'll cut off their means of retreat.'

So they ran - and the Saxons ran after,
Just exactly as William had planned,
Leaving 'Arold alone on the hill top
On his 'orse with his 'awk in his 'and.

When the Conqueror saw what had happened,
A bow and an arrow he drew;
He went right up to 'Arold and shot him.
He were off-side, but what could they do?

The Normans turned round in a fury,
And gave back both parry and thrust,
Till t'fightin' were all over bar shouting,
And you couldn't see Saxons for dust.

And after the battle were over
They found 'Arold so stately and grand,
Sitting there with an eye full of arrow
On his 'orse with his 'awk in his 'and.
 

Letzin Hale

Moved On
Dec 28, 2008
542
0
75
Aaaahh, what a lovely trip down memory lane, haven't heard that since I was a whipper snapper.:D

All I can say is.............Will Hay, George Formby, Old Mother Riley, Laurel & Hardy........Saturday morning at the Picture Playhouse in Gerrard's Cross (later renamed Essoldo like my favourite in Blackburn although we had Odeon & Essoldo at same time!, then Classic - boring, then eventually Odeon - never did like the name Gaumont!)......ah happy days!
Alan....rambling:)
 

Grandma Cas

Senior Member
ECF Veteran
Feb 10, 2009
156
6
Chesham UK
www.womens-words.com
All I can say is.............Will Hay, George Formby, Old Mother Riley, Laurel & Hardy........Saturday morning at the Picture Playhouse in Gerrard's Cross (later renamed Essoldo like my favourite in Blackburn although we had Odeon & Essoldo at same time!, then Classic - boring, then eventually Odeon - never did like the name Gaumont!)......ah happy days!
Alan....rambling:)

Oooh!... now you're showin' your age... my saturday mornings were spent just up the road in the Astoria at Ruislip... Cas following----> Alan... ramble... ramble... ramble...:p
 

e-pipeman

Vaping Master
Supporting Member
ECF Veteran
Oct 16, 2008
5,430
5,594
Brown Edge, England
LEAF-FALL

Leaf-fall: the trees
make a blanket for their feet.
Winter is coming, like a light
at the end of a long road,
the grass long dead in the middle.
Do you hear that bird?
Its thin grey call echoes the cloud.

Morning – the mist
hugs the climbing-frame
and makes it vague.
The trees are vague.
They drop leaves
casually.
The blanket is already made.

The grass stops growing.
Slowly now, slowly

the park moves gently forward.
Is it a fall?
More a gradual slippage,
a loss of grip.
Still, the world turns
while the birds grow quiet,
the bats roost in a loft.
 

e-pipeman

Vaping Master
Supporting Member
ECF Veteran
Oct 16, 2008
5,430
5,594
Brown Edge, England
GRIT

Sand, pouring from a folded
Sheet of paper, moving, spilling
Down, forms a mound of grit that is
Sterile and pointless. It grows
And has a form, accumulates
Into a heap that has the weight
Of a pyramid yet has no
Purpose. In the street a little
Dog runs in a circle chasing
His tail, then chasing his tail, all
Panting, slobber and excitement.
A brilliant spark is in his eye:
Urgency, almost being there,
A hand whose fingers stretch and al
most touch the object of desire
Which remains out of reach. Can I
Fight my way through this accretion
Of action? Is it, in the end,
Just the human condition?
Hope, the last great invertebrate,
Flourishes where nothing else lives.
 

prr2freya

Super Member
ECF Veteran
I have read this over and over again. It's quite beautiful.

GRIT

Sand, pouring from a folded
Sheet of paper, moving, spilling
Down, forms a mound of grit that is
Sterile and pointless. It grows
And has a form, accumulates
Into a heap that has the weight
Of a pyramid yet has no
Purpose. In the street a little
Dog runs in a circle chasing
His tail, then chasing his tail, all
Panting, slobber and excitement.
A brilliant spark is in his eye:
Urgency, almost being there,
A hand whose fingers stretch and al
most touch the object of desire
Which remains out of reach. Can I
Fight my way through this accretion
Of action? Is it, in the end,
Just the human condition?
Hope, the last great invertebrate,
Flourishes where nothing else lives.
 

prr2freya

Super Member
ECF Veteran
gray matter senselessness
inflamed quintessence
intuition damning me
knowing with full certainty
looking will just testify
the discounted approbation
or innocent indifference
to the layers of injury
this fascination’s wrought
eyes upturned to
imaginary sunshine
the grace of fingertips
an unseen pantomime
of ten digits intertwined
Melancholy devilment
Surrender to the muse

Put away the toys and listen to the silence...
my back is bruised


~freya (Nov 2008)
 
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