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The {{Sadly}} Still Nameless JC Poetry Club

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J'ai une ame solitaire. [Jul. 19th, 2004|08:23 pm]
The {{Sadly}} Still Nameless JC Poetry Club

[How does that make you feel? |disappointeddisappointed]
[Listen! There is music playing! |The Pixies, Bone Machine]

Ok, so I must share this poem quickly until I'm off again. Mr. Frost is a dear friend of mine, probably the FIRST poet I EVER enjoyed, besides Ms. Plath. Also, he's a home-boy: San Fran in the house. WOT WOT. Oh yes.

Acquainted With the Night

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

-- Robert Frost
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just another random poem [Jul. 19th, 2004|03:40 pm]
The {{Sadly}} Still Nameless JC Poetry Club
[How does that make you feel? |indescribable]

here's just another random poem that i enjoy.


Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remeber me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remeber me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

-Christina Georgina Rossetti
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This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody but my own confusion. [Jul. 17th, 2004|11:55 pm]
The {{Sadly}} Still Nameless JC Poetry Club

[How does that make you feel? |exhaustedexhausted]
[Listen! There is music playing! |The Decemberists, The Legionnaire's Lament]

Now, I have to type this poem out on my own, and I've had a rough, long day and I've slept 4 hours in the past 2 days, but I'm running on this. Artscape, lovers and parties will do this to you, kids. So, bear with me, and any possible typos. But I love this one. Don't ask me why, because I wont answer you. I read it for the first time in a library on the floor and I have stumbled across it in my sleep-deprived stupor. Yes.

As For Poets by Gary Snyder (Nature BOYYY!!! Wehaw!)

As for poets
The Earth Poets
Who write small poems,
Need help from no man.

The Air Poets
Play out the swiftest gales
And sometimes loll in the eddies,
Poem after poem,
Curling back on the same thrust.

At fifty below
Fuel oil won't flow
And propane stays in the tank.
Fire Poets
Burn at absolute zero
Fossil love pumped back up.

The first
Water Poet
stayed down six years.
He was covered with seaweed.
The life in his poem
Life millions of tiny
Different tracks
Criss-crossing through the mud.

With the Sun and Moon
In his belly,
The Space Poet
No end to the sky--
But his poems
Like wild geese
Fly off the edge.

A Mind Poet
Stays in the house.
The house is empty
And it has no walls.
The poem
Is seen from all sides,
At once.

Note to Club-homies: I want to start with personal work soon, and I'm working on a method of something people wont hate. Because I know that most of you don't like to write on your own, but like poetry, and so I like what we have now, but I want everyone to enjoy helping those who want to write on their own too. For kicks, hell, I dunno. ;D Hah, I'm a dork. I want to send this site to Wojo.
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peace attack [Jul. 16th, 2004|11:05 pm]
The {{Sadly}} Still Nameless JC Poetry Club

[i]peace attack[/i] by thurston moore

3 feb 03 peace
peace attack
early book whistling
whistling earth
whistling earth day off
nature sex
nature sex the only winking
of the great empty hate
the great anti-hate
springtime is wartime
all eyes to the crimeboss
electric guitar string
belly flowers
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If you fix me up girl, you'll go a long way. [Jul. 15th, 2004|03:36 pm]
The {{Sadly}} Still Nameless JC Poetry Club

[How does that make you feel? |lonelylonely]
[Listen! There is music playing! |Bright Eyes, Puella Quam Amo Est Pulchra]

by Lola Haskins

She tries it on, like a dress.
She decides it doesn't fit,
and starts to take it off.
Her skin comes, too.
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my contribution [Jul. 14th, 2004|09:44 pm]
The {{Sadly}} Still Nameless JC Poetry Club
[How does that make you feel? |worriedworried]

here's my contribution to today's "poetry club meeting"

when i am dead my dearest
sing no sad songs for me
plant thou no roses at my head
nor shady cyprss tree

be the green grass above me
with showers and dew drops wet
and, if thou will, remember
and, if thou will,forget.

sowwie. i don't remember who wrote this. i know that is terribly bad of me. but this is the best i can do right now.
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I'm going to be using the community for my own enjoyment if no one else will-- [Jul. 14th, 2004|06:24 pm]
The {{Sadly}} Still Nameless JC Poetry Club

[How does that make you feel? |lethargiclethargic]
[Listen! There is music playing! |Interpol, Stella Was A Diver And She Was Always Down]

Now, a few of you have been forced into joining. That is good. I need to get Nico, Gregoire, and Caitlin. They will be able to join up, and things will be better. This may just prove to be a complete waste of internet-space (if that is an actual measurement). The main point of this entry is this poem-- Struck me this morning, as I try and read at least 7 poems daily (7 being my lucky number, poetry being my obsession...it makes sense to me :-/. So, I came across this and I want to share it. Voila~

from "Contradictions: Tracking Poems"
Adrienne Rich


Dear Adrienne:
I'm calling you up tonight
as I might call up a friend as I might call up a ghost
to ask you what you intend to do
with the rest of your life. Sometimes you act
as if you have all the time there is.
I worry about you when I see this.
The prime of life, old age
aren't what they used to be;
making a good death isn't either,
now you can walk around the corner of a wall
and see a light
that has already blown your past away.
Somewhere in Boston beautiful literature
is being read around the clock
by writers to signify
their dislike of this.
I hope you've got something in mind.
I hope you have some idea
about the rest of your life.
In sisterhood,

Heh. Ah, I am off with that. Please, just shove your own favorite poems out here. Justin, I know you have some. Post them. I'm a bossy crow, I say POST POST!
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[Test try for the new community! Well, I'm excited!!] [Jul. 13th, 2004|12:50 am]
The {{Sadly}} Still Nameless JC Poetry Club

[How does that make you feel? |lonelylonely]
[Listen! There is music playing! |Commander Venus, Peppermints]

Yes, so. I'm a nerd with nothing better to do, but I'm sure we all knew that already. Being president of my beloved poetry club at JC, under the Great Wojo, I decided to create this to extend the club to new bounds. I've been missing the readings and the learning, and decided that I needed to do something. I might just go insane. And here it is: The JC Poetry Club LiveJournal Blog. We have moved up in the world--I'm sure none of the other JC clubs have a community! HA! Ahem. So. I suppose I'm closing this off with a poem. Click the link to read I Sit by the Window by Joseph Brodsky. It's good, in my opinion, at least... which isn't worth a great deal, but you should read it nonetheless.

Read more...Collapse )

I am off and running again, I hope I can get this started so we actually use it. I've adopted him, he's just a baby... Help him? :D
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