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# two has some good bits. Especially the line ‘A Schizophrenic Fifteen-Four’.
True Poems, with a Morrissey flavour
- Thread starter goinghome
- Start date
# two has some good bits. Especially the line ‘A Schizophrenic Fifteen-Four’.
Optimistic Fool
off-topic
Thank you!!# two has some good bits. Especially the line ‘A Schizophrenic Fifteen-Four’.
Optimistic Fool
off-topic
Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
I can't make out some of the words, but what I could is interesting.
Optimistic Fool
off-topic
Could you point out which ones?
Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
The line after "You're not even trying".
Optimistic Fool
off-topic
Ohh, ya, this was a part I was considering rearranging-
Don't even think of him crying
You're not even trying
Just stop trying
Don't even think
Just stop crying
Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
It's been a long time since I've had a good cry.
Optimistic Fool
off-topic
It'll come soon, don't worry
goinghome
you must not tamper with arrangements
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♫ Nightingale - song / call / voice / sound.
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goinghome
you must not tamper with arrangements
Also, that last trio all include the unusual word 'darkling'.
goinghome
you must not tamper with arrangements
Not an entirely woke limerick! Startling though. and zany like limericks are intended.
Edward Gorey, The Listing Attic (1954)
goinghome
you must not tamper with arrangements
Wild Broom, or The Flower of the Desert, is considered by some to be Italy's national poem, by one of its greatest writers, Giacomo Leopardi, (born June 29, 1798, Recanati, Papal States—died June 14, 1837, Naples) "Italian poet, scholar, and philosopher whose outstanding scholarly and philosophical works and superb lyric poetry place him among the great writers of the 19th century" - https://www.britannica.com/biography/Giacomo-Leopardi
It's very long so I'll give the first section and this link to the rest, where other poems by him are found too: https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Italian/Leopardi.php#anchor_Toc38684164
Fragrant broom,
content with deserts:
here on the arid slope of Vesuvius,
that formidable mountain, the destroyer,
that no other tree or flower adorns,
you scatter your lonely
bushes all around. I’ve seen before
how you beautify empty places
with your stems, circling the City
once the mistress of the world,
and it seems that with their grave,
silent, aspect they bear witness,
reminding the passer-by
of that lost empire.
Now I see you again on this soil,
a lover of sad places abandoned by the world,
a faithful friend of hostile fortune.
These fields scattered
with barren ash, covered
with solid lava,
that resounds under the traveller’s feet:
where snakes twist, and couple
in the sun, and the rabbits return
to their familiar cavernous burrows:
were once happy, prosperous farms.
They were golden with corn, echoed
to lowing cattle:
there were gardens and palaces,
the welcome leisure retreats
for powerful, famous cities,
which the proud mountain crushed
with all their people, beneath the torrents
from its fiery mouth. Now all around
is one ruin,
where you root, gentle flower, and as though
commiserating with others’ loss, send
a perfume of sweetest fragrance to heaven,
that consoles the desert. Let those
who praise our existence visit
these slopes, to see how carefully
our race is nurtured
by loving Nature. And here
they can justly estimate
and measure the power of humankind,
that the harsh nurse, can with a slight movement,
obliterate one part of, in a moment, when we
least fear it, and with a little less gentle
a motion, suddenly,
annihilate altogether.
The ‘magnificent and progressive fate’
of the human race
is depicted in this place.,,
It's very long so I'll give the first section and this link to the rest, where other poems by him are found too: https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Italian/Leopardi.php#anchor_Toc38684164
13. Wild Broom (XXXIV)
(or The Flower of the Desert)Fragrant broom,
content with deserts:
here on the arid slope of Vesuvius,
that formidable mountain, the destroyer,
that no other tree or flower adorns,
you scatter your lonely
bushes all around. I’ve seen before
how you beautify empty places
with your stems, circling the City
once the mistress of the world,
and it seems that with their grave,
silent, aspect they bear witness,
reminding the passer-by
of that lost empire.
Now I see you again on this soil,
a lover of sad places abandoned by the world,
a faithful friend of hostile fortune.
These fields scattered
with barren ash, covered
with solid lava,
that resounds under the traveller’s feet:
where snakes twist, and couple
in the sun, and the rabbits return
to their familiar cavernous burrows:
were once happy, prosperous farms.
They were golden with corn, echoed
to lowing cattle:
there were gardens and palaces,
the welcome leisure retreats
for powerful, famous cities,
which the proud mountain crushed
with all their people, beneath the torrents
from its fiery mouth. Now all around
is one ruin,
where you root, gentle flower, and as though
commiserating with others’ loss, send
a perfume of sweetest fragrance to heaven,
that consoles the desert. Let those
who praise our existence visit
these slopes, to see how carefully
our race is nurtured
by loving Nature. And here
they can justly estimate
and measure the power of humankind,
that the harsh nurse, can with a slight movement,
obliterate one part of, in a moment, when we
least fear it, and with a little less gentle
a motion, suddenly,
annihilate altogether.
The ‘magnificent and progressive fate’
of the human race
is depicted in this place.,,
Lucifer Sam
الموت لأمريكا
Just a minor slice of trivia, but Leopardi was Arthur Schopenhauer’s favorite poet. And there are several commonalities between Schopenhauer and Morrissey: conflicted views about sex, concern for animals, deliberately childless, misanthropic, and mistakenly considered cranky miserabilists despite being supremely witty.
goinghome
you must not tamper with arrangements
This is for Ballerina Out of Control, with whose poems I see a likeness with this one and the realist style. Regarding its author: "With the publication of his book Paroles in 1945, Jacques Prévert (1900–1977) became France's most popular [realist] poet of the twentieth century. He was also an innovative screenwriter who helped create some of the most influential French films of the 1930s and 1940s, including the beloved Les Enfants du paradis (The Children of Paradise)." - https://www.notablebiographies.com/supp/Supplement-Mi-So/Pr-vert-Jacques.html
into the cup,
he put the milk
into the cup of coffee,
he put the sugar
into the coffee
with milk with a small spoon,
he churned,
he drank the coffee
and he put down the cup
without any word to me.
He emptied the coffee with milk
and he put down the cup
without any word to me.
He lighted
one cigarette,
he made circles
with the smoke,
he shook off the ash
into the ashtray
without any word to me,
without any look at me.
He got up,
he put on
a hat on his head,
he put on
a raincoat
because it was raining
and he left
into the rain
without any word to me,
without any look at me.
And I buried
my face in my hands,
and I cried.
Breakfast
He poured the coffeeinto the cup,
he put the milk
into the cup of coffee,
he put the sugar
into the coffee
with milk with a small spoon,
he churned,
he drank the coffee
and he put down the cup
without any word to me.
He emptied the coffee with milk
and he put down the cup
without any word to me.
He lighted
one cigarette,
he made circles
with the smoke,
he shook off the ash
into the ashtray
without any word to me,
without any look at me.
He got up,
he put on
a hat on his head,
he put on
a raincoat
because it was raining
and he left
into the rain
without any word to me,
without any look at me.
And I buried
my face in my hands,
and I cried.
goinghome
you must not tamper with arrangements
And a familiar lyric poem, for Light Housework. This was written by John Mercer, for music by Henry Mancini. Mercer co-founded Capitol Records. https://www.billboard.com/lists/joh...ord-tying-four-oscars-for-best-original-song/
From what I'v heard of Light Housework's music, creative talent further developed could maybe get a deal. It'd beat getting trolled by saddos around here anyway. Just a thought : )
Moon river, wider than a mile
I'm crossing you in style some day
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker
Wherever you're going, I'm going your way
Two drifters, off to see the world
There's such a lot of world to see
We're after the same rainbow's end, waiting, round the bend
My Huckleberry Friend, Moon River, and me
Moon river, wider than a mile
I'm crossing you in style some day
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker
Wherever you're going, I'm going your way
Two drifters, off to see the world
There's such a lot of world to see
We're after that same rainbow's end, waiting, round the bend
My Huckleberry Friend, Moon River, and me
From what I'v heard of Light Housework's music, creative talent further developed could maybe get a deal. It'd beat getting trolled by saddos around here anyway. Just a thought : )
Moon river, wider than a mile
I'm crossing you in style some day
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker
Wherever you're going, I'm going your way
Two drifters, off to see the world
There's such a lot of world to see
We're after the same rainbow's end, waiting, round the bend
My Huckleberry Friend, Moon River, and me
Moon river, wider than a mile
I'm crossing you in style some day
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker
Wherever you're going, I'm going your way
Two drifters, off to see the world
There's such a lot of world to see
We're after that same rainbow's end, waiting, round the bend
My Huckleberry Friend, Moon River, and me
Light Housework
I’m willing to feel pretty good.
Thanks, goinghome! I don't think my voice is as good anymore, but I will keep your idea in mind.
goinghome
you must not tamper with arrangements
There's an online poetry reading tomorrow, US daytime, with the theme of confronting empire, for anyone interested -
"Out of the wreckage of war and imperialism, artists often present us with arresting and life-affirming insights. This event features four distinguished, award-winning poets whose work has been deeply influenced by U.S. wars in Vietnam, Central America, and Iraq. Carolyn Forché, Yusef Komunyakaa, Dunya Mikhail, and Ocean Vuong will each read a selection of their poems and respond to questions posed by moderator Ru Freeman." - https://blogs.umass.edu/feinberg/the-poetry-of-war-and-resistance/#post-inner
"Out of the wreckage of war and imperialism, artists often present us with arresting and life-affirming insights. This event features four distinguished, award-winning poets whose work has been deeply influenced by U.S. wars in Vietnam, Central America, and Iraq. Carolyn Forché, Yusef Komunyakaa, Dunya Mikhail, and Ocean Vuong will each read a selection of their poems and respond to questions posed by moderator Ru Freeman." - https://blogs.umass.edu/feinberg/the-poetry-of-war-and-resistance/#post-inner
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