Final Faith by Yevgeny Yevtushenko

[acreofbones.livejournal.com]

Is it possible that we are so twisted
there is no salvation for any of us,
and that ideas have become wingless
in an age of winged rockets?

Is it possible that a crippled birch,
bending over to the last river,
will see the last man
in its boiling water?

Is it possible there’ll be no Big Ben,
Saint Basil’s, or Notre Dame
and that neutron foam will gush
over our final steps?

But that planet, cherry trees,
birds, and children will perish,
I don’t believe. This disbelief
is my final faith.

( Skull after skull will not be piled up in towers again... )

"Yellow Tulips" by James Fenton & Request

[takhys]

Fruit! I love it. I also love poems about fruit. Apples, peaches, pears and plums? If you've got any good poems about fruit, I'd love to have a link to them. Heckers, I'll even make you a snazzy icon as a thank-you present.

"Yellow Tulips" by James Fenton
Looking into the vase, into the calyx, into the water drop,
Looking into the throat of the flower, at the pollen stain,
I can see the ambush love sprung once in the summery wood.
( I can see the casualties where they lay, till they set forth again. )

Anonymous

[emmmjay.livejournal.com]

This poem was given to me by a friend a long time ago. It is originally written in Cajun French, but I have posted the translation here. I'm labeling it anonymous, b/c I have searched in vain for the author. But I wanted to share it anyway. Maybe someone here will recognize it and bring to light the poet.

I do not know what it is which torments me thus.
I can not tell what it is that makes my heart beat so.
O god! what torture! what pains I have suffered so long!
It is worse than the pain of fetters; I had rather die at once.

Do you remember the pretty little brook that ran through the banana trees
Where you used to have such fun?
When you used to bathe?

That water has ceased to run;-
Since the time it stopped all at once-
It seems to me it died of regret
That its wavelets could not embrace you forever.

You’re beautiful

[binahboy.livejournal.com]

Bit like pop lyrics , but comes in handy during early days of courting. ;)

You’re beautiful

because you’re classically trained
I’m ugly because I associate piano wire with strangulation

You’re beautiful

because you stop to read the cards in newsagents’ windows
about lost cats and missing dogs.
I’m ugly because of what I did to that jellyfish
with a lolly-stick and a big stone.

You're beautiful because for you, politeness is instinctive, not a marketing
campaign.
I’m ugly because desperation is impossible to hide.

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.

You’re beautiful because you believe in coincidence and the power of thought.
I’m ugly because I proved God to be a mathematical impossibility.

You’re beautiful because you prefer homemade soup to the packet stuff.
I’m ugly because once, at a dinner party,
I defended the aristocracy and wasn’t even drunk.

You’re beautiful because you can’t work the remote control.
I’m ugly because of satellite television and twenty-four hour rolling news.

Ugly like he is,
Beautiful like hers,
Beautiful like Venus,
Ugly like his,
Beautiful like she is,
Ugly like Mars.

( Read more... )

~Simon Armitage