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Bec's Poetry Corner
I've wanted to start a poetry journal for sometime now. I don't write that much or that often, but the pieces I've done are all very personal and I'm pretty attached to some of them. At least maybe some of my writing will help people get to know me a little better.
I also plan to post some of my favorites by other people, and I hope everyone will feel free to add their own stuff. I'm very fond of love sonnets, especially the sapphic and erotic variety. If you repost anything you see here, always give appropriate credit out of respect other people's intellectual property! To get things started, here's a little something I wrote to the love of my life. You should feel jealous, but you don't Because you know I'd never hurt you You should feel mad, but you don't Because you know I didn't mean to You should feel smothered, but you don't Because you know how I crave your touch You should feel slighted, but you don't Because you know I love you so much You know me too well You shouldn't do all those little things, but you do Because you know they melt my heart You shouldn't accomodate me so, but you do Because you know I hate being apart You shouldn't even have given me a chance, but you did Because you'd been hurt so bad before You shouldn't have loved me back, but you did Because you knew my soul was yours You know me too well by Becky P. |
Nice poem but the only issue I see is with your tenses in the last two lines. You used past tense then the next line should be past tense as well.
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In other words, I am speaking to her in the present about something that happened in the past. She was a tough nut to crack because I caught her on the rebound (long story). That's what 4 of the last 5 lines of the poem refer to. Guess maybe it makes a little more sense if you know that. |
Posted this earlier on Katsy's thread but I wanted to include it here too. It's not mine.
Love's Acolyte Many have loved you with lips and fingers And lain with you till the moon went out; Many have brought you lover's gifts! And some have left their dreams on your doorstep. But I who am youth among your lovers Come like an acolyte to worship, My thirsting blood restrained by reverence, My heart a wordless prayer. The candles of desire are lighted, I bow my head, afraid before you, A mendicant who craves your bounty Ashamed of what small gifts she brings. Elsa Gidlow |
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Just giving constructive criticism. I used to have issues with switching tenses often throughout my work. |
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The catch phrase (or hook I guess you could call it) of the poem which is used at the end of both stanzas, represents how I've shown her more of myself than I've ever shown anyone else. Anyway, guess from my point of view maybe I never realized how obfuscated my intent was, but the change of tense you see was done consciously and on purpose. Quote:
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Boo, I hate your kind! lol My high school English teachers made me hate English. |
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Don't feel too bad though...sometimes I'm not too fond of English myself. ;) |
Something with a little more spice?
Dance with me by Becky P. Dance with me Our warmth intertwined Breast to breast Our hearts beat in time Cheek to cheek My lips find your neck Thigh to thigh Our hot souls connect Dance with me Our mouths gently kiss Lips to lips We both feel the bliss Tongue to Tongue My knees just went weak Skin to skin Your dampness I seek Dance with me Our passion is keyed Sigh to sigh My kiss finds your need Breath to breath You find your release We begin again Now it's your turn to please |
wow i like the sexual nature of that and i would read part 2 for sure
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Glad you enjoyed it. I've got a few like that. I like to think that they're sensual without being graphic, but I guess some of them get pretty borderline. ;)
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Snow Angel by Karen Godson (aka Sapphos_Poet) My eyes trickle over your sculpted hips like cool spring water caressing sun-warmed river rocks. I marvel at the purity of your ivory skin. Your body, so long untouched is flawless like the landscape after a midnight snowfall. I want to walk across it with feather-light fingertips; careful to leave no blemish, no sign I was ever here. Only, we would know. |
I like your work, CB. It's very pretty language, especially the last one you posted. A lovestruck, sensual poem is pretty much classic no matter how you look at it, but do you have anything on any other topics? I'd like to see what you can do with another idea beside love.
(Not that your work on love is bad, it's not, I just like to see a variety of work from writers.) |
^ Well, I'm ashamed to admit that I'm pretty much a one trick pony when it comes to writing poetry. My muse only works when I'm writing about something that moves me emotionally, and most of my stuff is very personal.
I really should try to branch out though shouldn't I? Maybe you've inspired me! :) |
Here's something a little different. I prefer poetry with some kind of structure to it, but there are ways to give structure to a verse besides just rhyming, like haiku for example. I'm intrigued with coming up with unique ways to give a poem structure.
It's still a love sonnet though...kinda :) The Lifeboat Sequestered by the waters of life, trapped on an island of despair my horizon barren of hope going nowhere... Stripped of the clothing of contentment, naked on a cay of anguish my days barren of expectation it comes to me! Shrouded in moralistic servitude...had it been there all along? my heart barren of perception? Love is my lifeboat! (Becky P. 2013) |
I found this one on the web and really loved it. There was no author listed.
Morning sunlight cascaded onto golden tresses hypnotic, inviting. I watched the sway of her hips as she sauntered past old woodland trees beneath now leafy canopies. They swung… they swayed…. calling me; calling to my senses, …..come this way. Eyes darkly dilated with lustful dreams and fantasies I captured her and sought sweet lips beneath my own, exploring…. tasting…. Our tongues entwine dancing to loves melody…. beneath old leaves and vine. One finger trailed deftly between her breasts and I felt her heart ... …it quivered ..it fluttered and beckoned me, so I pushed her back gently palms pressed flat between her knees. and forced her wide…. (undenied). The flower of my dreams opened and my gaze now settles on her bud of fragrant petals ...swollen .....pulsing ......wanting… and her moist nectar gleamed like a rainbow beneath a stray sunbeam. I teased her , softly.... gently... then firm and fast (she would not last) and eased my fingers deep inside her velvet heat.... encased … graced… I relished her honeyed taste… ….so sweet. Her legs weighed heavy on my shoulders as I rose and held her pinned, my amour undimmed, and gently took her on my fist. Sweet torture… she rode me harder (with ardour) Our bodies now sun-kissed… So… my concerto was composed when I played a song of love beneath natures veils (my adoration prevails) and as my lady sang old woodland trees rang with her cries of wanton pleasure (my treasure... my treasure). ~Author unknown |
I see it in your eyes a struggle to understand this gift that I must give of myself unto your loving hands. A demon inside fires my devient need that though you long to please you're reluctant to feed. You see it in my eyes... my longing gaze, never avert as you tend my desire. If you love me, make it hurt (Becky P. 2013) |
Needless to say, song lyrics often make very good poetry.
In 1883, French composer Leo Delibes wrote what is today a fairly famous opera named "Lakme". But more famous than the opera itself, is a very beautiful duet from the piece which has come to be know as "The Flower Duet". Though it is known for the beauty of it lovely and lilting melody, unbeknownst to those who don't speak French it also has a very moving lyric. Even in a rough translation, the words still stir the soul. Under the dense canopy where the white jasmine blends with the rose On the flowering bank, laughing with the morning, come let us drift down together Let us gently glide along it's enchanting flow and follow it's fleeing current On the rippling surface with a lazy hand Come let us go to the shore where the spring sleeps and the birds sing Under the white jasmine, let us drift down together ================================================== =========== Here's what it sounds like. Even if you're not an opera fan, give this a chance. It's quite lovely! |
Some experiences are life changing...
============================================== Innocence Lost by Becky P. What made me want this...where's my self-worth? A life of moral dogma preached daily since birth My own private men's club in a cheap motel. Shouting to my brain, "You're surly going to hell!" The first one up I didn't know from a thief He was in me in an instant, his knife into my sheath A daggar thrust deep into the naive soul Of the innocent girl I used to know One after another, I was used to completion An endless assault of carnal contrition Would I miss the girl that walked through this door? My mind screamed "No!...this is you...to the core " |
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Aw thanks..glad you liked it. Finding the right person to spend my life with really did pull me out of a dark time in my life, so that's what it's about.
If you have any of your own please post something. Btw..I'm really enjoying your journal. As a piano player who also plays a little guitar now, I can relate. And your festival tips brought back fond memories of SXSW. |
This is a popular piece by Robert Frost. It's about a person who loves nature and the outdoors and longs for more time in their busy life to enjoy it. I can so relate!!
============================ Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening` Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound’s the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep |
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======================================== Flower of Love by Becky P. The perfume of your arousal heightens my sense. I want not wine; your fragrance looms in the moment, rare...tense Your flower blooms Its petals tempt my amorous lips Its crimson heart is radiant now with dew Touched gently with fingertips O flower of love! I give myself to you |
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Another favorite nature poem(or it is for me):
When I Heard the Learn’d Astronomer By Walt Whitman When I heard the learn’d astronomer, When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me, When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them, When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room, How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick, Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself, In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars. |
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That's the poem ugh. |
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The sonnet, historically speaking, was written by a man for an unobtainable woman. While many have played with this form (think Donne's Holy Sonnets or even Anne Bradstreet's poems for her husband, children, and grandchildren), this poem, I would be hard-pressed to say, is anything near a sonnet. This poem really doesn't convey any sort of meaningful rhetoric, isn't written in meter, and doesn't have a volta that segues into a resolution. This poem falls closer in line to being a free verse poem. Yours in Christ, Dr. Boo Bear |
Hence the "kinda"
You're of course technically correct. But the term "sonnet" has also come to be fairly generic in its contemporary usage, especially in an informal context. |
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People tend to believe that poetry is just a willy-nilly construct since they've heard, somewhere, from the preface to Lyrical Ballads that poetry was the "spontaneous overflow of emotion recollected in tranquility," as though no craft or technique or thought was ever put into a piece of writing. I mean, that's probably true for bad poetry, but good poetry is not just words thrown down on a page (not suggesting that yours is of this ilk). I teach literature and I'm very frustrated with my student coming out of high school believing that there are no rules to poetry. There are. |
^ I don't have to look it up, I know full well what a sonnet is thank you very much. As I've said, I was using the term in a very generic and informal context, so we'll just have to agree to disagree...m'kay?!
(Btw...I also call all copier machines Xerox's, which is also technically incorrect) ;) |
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I call all facial tissue "Kleenex" and all cotton swabs "Q-tips" too. But when a brand name becomes completely synonymous with an entire product type is hardly the same as just calling something by the wrong name. If I called a villanelle a sonnet, it would be wrong. |
Hey...dude!! I know what a freekin sonnet is just as well as you do!!!!
I acknowledged that you were correct and that my usage was technically incorrect and my reasons for said usage! Twice!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now how bout you pull your fukin panties out of your g'dam a$$ crack and go use someone else's journal to try to impress us with your self-perceived superior knowledge!!!! |
CoolBec, do you do any songwriting? Or just poetry? Just curious...
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Just poetry Drak. I've never really tried, but I think to do song lyrics I'd have to have some music first.
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I always write lyrics before music. You should give it a shot.
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