The world records all the deeds you have done
Spits out the seeds of your wrath just for fun
Tactical engagements, friendly fire
Fields of wheat
Tred on a tire
Ground by the street
Oh the ire
The world records all the deeds you have done
Spits out the seeds of your wrath just for fun
Tactical engagements, friendly fire
Fields of wheat
Tred on a tire
Ground by the street
Oh the ire
Invictus - William Ernest Henley
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
Fire And Ice - Robert Frost
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
It is growing
Fattening quietly
And stretching outwards
Industriously building walls
Which bound each side of its domain
A puddle on the chilling board it freezes
Statuesque – silently marking its maker’s hopes
I’d like to play
To have a go
You know
Maybe one day
I’ll get a board
And bowls of stones
My own
Or even more
Some easy book
That I could read
You see
And then I’d look
For another
Enthusiast
At last
Sat together
You know, @Mulsiphix1, I felt that Invictus wasn’t irate enough for this thread, but I think you really hit the spot now; the kind of verses that one could recite while feeling angrier than thou, like this stanza of a Brazilian poem:
De repente direi tudo,
mas com tanta veemência,
e com tamanha aspereza
de expressão e sofrimento,
que terás minha demência
no coágulo sangrento
desabado sobre a mesa.
Suddenly I will say everything,
but with so much vehemence,
and such harshness
of expression and suffering,
that you will have my dementia
in the bloody clot
collapsed over the table.
Beats that other feeling that can go with the cigarette @Napster’s included in the title:
Acabei de dar um check-up na situação,
o que me levou a reler Alice no País das Maravilhas;
já chupei a laranja mecânica
(e lhe digo mais: plantei a casca na minha cabeça);
acabei de tomar meu Dienpax, meu Valium 10
e outras pílulas mais;
duas horas da manhã, recebo nos peitos
um Tryptanol 25
e vou dormir quase em paz.
E a chuva promete
não deixar vestígios.
I’ve just done a check-up of the situation,
which led me to reread Alice in Wonderland;
I’ve already eaten the clockwork orange
(and I tell you more: I planted the peel in my head);
I’ve just taken my Dienpax, my 10mg Valium and
some other pills besides;
two in the morning, I get a 25mg Tryptanol in my chest
and go to sleep almost in peace.
And the rain promises
not to leave vestiges.
What you’re about to read is an idea I had some time ago, which I’ve called “goetry”. The idea is that this poem represents a game of Go: to be precise, the first twelve moves. So, if you want a hint to understanding the poem then you can convert it to moves and put them into Waltheri. The cypher is this:
– At the start of each line is a number. This specifies which quarter of the board the move is to be played in: 1. is the top right and the numbers then increase as you go clockwise until you reach 4., the top left.
– Each line is split into two parts by a slash. The amount of syllables in the first part represents how many lines the move is horizontally inwards from the edge of the board, the first line counting as one syllable. The amount of syllables in the second part, as you no doubt guess my now, indicate how many lines the move is vertically inwards from the edge of the board. This format always refers to the two edges of the quarter specified.
1: Departing / from my country
1: In a rusting old / iron ship
4: I looked from the side / over the waves
2: Past circling gulls / to the shore.
4: The land of / my childhood
1: Was slowly shrinking as we left the bay / and just then
3: I thought of my / mother’s eyes
3: And of her laugh / And of sweet spring mornings,
3: And watched the faint white surf / beat the seawall.
3: I stared at / the tumbling ocean breaking beneath
1: And let a drop / of salty water
2: Fall into / the crying wind.