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LiveJournal for When these dead leaves were green.

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Sunday, August 1st, 2004

Subject:happiness by w.owen
Posted by:alexrjones.
Time:1:05 am.
Ever again to breathe pure happiness,
So happy that we gave away our toy?
We smiled at nothings, needing no caress?
Have we not laughed too often since with Joy?
Have we not stolen too strange and sorrowful wrongs
For her hands' pardoning? The sun may cleanse,
And time, and starlight. Life will sing great songs,
And gods will show us pleasures more than men's.

Yet heaven looks smaller than the old doll's-home,
No nestling place is left in bluebell bloom,
And the wide arms of trees have lost their scope.
The former happiness is unreturning:
Boys' griefs are not so grievous as our yearning,
Boys have no sadness sadder than our hope.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Sunday, May 9th, 2004

Subject:Secrets Of My Heart by Uwo Kiss
Posted by:alexrjones.
Time:1:58 am.
Why does my heart still hold on to you
At every waking moment, in everything I do
Why do I have to see your face all day
And if you knew, what would you say?

My heart breaks in two when I see him with you
And I think to myself, what didn't I do
I wish I could somehow turn back the time
And relive one second when you were nearly mine.

I wish no one ever had to know
The feeling of lovesick pain from head to toe
Like someone rips out your heart and tears it in two
And sit back and watch is all you can do.

In my dreams you say those words I long to hear
And when I look in your eyes, I know you're sincere
So I'll see you later, when the day is through
When I'm asleep in my bed, dreaming of you.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Friday, April 2nd, 2004

Subject:What did you think I was gonna do, curl up and die just because of you?
Posted by:julietlovestory.
Time:10:19 am.
Quotes on Letting Go.

Maybe some people just aren’t meant to be in our lives forever. Maybe some people are just passing through. It’s like some people just come through our lives to bring us something: a gift, a blessing, a lesson we need to learn, and that’s why they’re here... you’ll have that gift forever. - The Gift

The hardest part of anything is the beginning, and the second hardest part is letting go when it's the end. - E. Fritz

As I started to picture the trees in the storm, the answer began to dawn on me. The trees in the storm don't try to stand up straight and tall and erect. They allow themselves to bend and be blown with the wind. They understand the power of letting go. Those trees and those branches that try too hard to stand up strong and straight are the ones that break. Now is not the time for you to be strong, Julia, or you, too, will break. - Julia Butterfly Hill

" Letting go doesn't mean giving up... it means moving on. It is one of the hardest things a person can do. Starting at birth, we grasp on to anything we can get our hands on, and hold on as if we will cease to exist when we let go. We feel that letting go is giving up, quitting, and that as we all know is cowardly. But as we grow older we are forced to change our way of thinking. We are forced to realize that letting go means accepting things that cannot be. It means maturing and moving on, no matter how hard you have to fight yourself to do so."

"There are people in our lives that we're supposed to love, and people that we'll always love. Unfortunately, the people that we'll always love aren't always the people we're supposed to love."
Comments: Add Your Own.

Saturday, March 6th, 2004

Subject:'Light and Dark' by Sandi L Schraut
Posted by:alexrjones.
Time:12:11 am.
I walk under the moons glow
Half in silver light
Half in shadow
Each half wants to own me
The darkness grips me in its power
Binds me to its dim paths
And sad outcomes
The light beckons me to its glow
Its joy, and its promises
I will have to fight to free myself
From the black sad grip
And reach for the lights glad joy.
The battle between the comforting blanket of the dark
And the vulnerability that the light reveals
Weighs heavy in the thought wells of the mind
But the choices must be decided
Between the dark and the light
Each with its pitfalls and its rewards
For now the struggle wages
To and fro
In the end there shall be a victor
I pray it is me….
Comments: Add Your Own.

Monday, March 1st, 2004

Subject:Allen Ginsberg - Father Death Blues
Posted by:julietlovestory.
Time:10:02 am.
Father Death Blues
by Allen Ginsberg (bookmark) (print) (next)
Author Category: Americas. Show lines.

Hey Father Death, I'm flying home
Hey poor man, you're all alone
Hey old daddy, I know where I'm going

Father Death, Don't cry any more
Mama's there, underneath the floor
Brother Death, please mind the store

Old Aunty Death Don't hide your bones
Old Uncle Death I hear your groans
O Sister Death how sweet your moans

O Children Deaths go breathe your breaths
Sobbing breasts'll ease your Deaths
Pain is gone, tears take the rest

Genius Death your art is done
Lover Death your body's gone
Father Death I'm coming home

Guru Death your words are true
Teacher Death I do thank you
For inspiring me to sing this Blues

Buddha Death, I wake with you
Dharma Death, your mind is new
Sangha Death, we'll work it through

Suffering is what was born
Ignorance made me forlorn
Tearful truths I cannot scorn

Father Breath once more farewell
Birth you gave was no thing ill
My heart is still, as time will tell.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Wednesday, February 25th, 2004

Subject:"Teen Anguish Poem" by Rick
Posted by:alexrjones.
Time:9:38 pm.
oh god,
am I so much more sensitive than everybody else ?
do I feel things so much more acutely than them,
and understand so much more.
I bet I'm the first person who's ever felt as rotten as this.
could it be
that I'm going to grow up
to be a great poet and thinker, and all those other wankers in my
class are going to have to work in factories or go on the dole?
yes, I think it could.
Comments: Add Your Own.

Tuesday, February 24th, 2004

Subject:A Girls' Grave by Patrick Edward Quinn
Posted by:julietlovestory.
Time:6:55 pm.
A Girls' Grave
Patrick Edward Quinn

What story is here of broken love,
What idyllic sad romance,
What arrow fretted the silken dove
That met with such grim mischance?

I picture you, sleeper of long ago,
When you trifled and danced and smiled,
All golden laughter and beauty's glow
In a girl life sweet and wild.

Hair with the red gold's luring tinge,
Fine as the finest silk,
Violet eyes with a golden fringe
And cheeks of roses and milk.

Something of this you must have been,
Something gentle and sweet,
To have broken your heart at seventeen
And died in such sad defeat.

Hardly one of your kinsfolk live,
It was all so long ago,
The tale of the cruel love to give
That laid you here so low.

Loving, trusting, and foully paid --
The story is easily guessed,
A blotted sun and skies that fade
And this grass-grown grave the rest.

Whatever the cynic may sourly say,
With a dash of truth, I ween,
Of the girls of the period, in your day
They had hearts at seventeen.

Dead of a fashion out of date,
Such folly has passed away
Like the hoop and patch and modish gait
That went out with an older day.

The stone is battered and all awry,
The words can be scarcely read,
The rank reeds clustering thick and high
Over your buried head.

I pluck one straight as a Paynim's lance
To keep your memory green,
For the lordly sake of old Romance
And your own, sad seventeen.
Comments: Read 1 orAdd Your Own.

Subject:A Child's Grave - Sarah Orne Jewitt
Posted by:julietlovestory.
Time:5:14 pm.
A Child's Grave
Sarah Orne Jewitt

More than a hundred years ago
They raised for her this little stone;
"Miss Polly Townsend, aged nine,"
It says, is sleeping here alone.

'Twas hard to leave your merry mates
For ranks of angels robed and crowned,
To sleep until the judgment day
In Copp's Hill burying-ground.

You must have dreaded heaven then—
A solemn doom of endless rest,
Where white-winged seraphs tuned their harps—
You surely liked this life the best!

The gray slate headstones frightened you,
When from Christ Church your father brought
You here on Sunday afternoon,
And told you that this world was nought;

And you spelled out the carven names
Of people who beneath the sod,
Hidden away from mortal eyes,
Were at the mercy of their God.

You had been taught that He was great—
You only hoped He might be good—
An awful thought that you must join
This silent neighborhood!

Did you grow up to womanhood
In Heaven, and did you soon lose sight,
Because you are so happy there,
Of this world's troubles infinite?

No one remembers now the day
They buried you on Copp's Hill-side;
No one remembers you, or grieves
And misses you, because you died.

I see the grave and serious men
And pious women, meek and mild,
Walk two by two in company,
The mourners for this little child.

The harbor glistened in the sun;
The bell in Christ Church steeple tolled;
And all her playmates cried for her—
Miss Polly Townsend, nine years old.
Comments: Read 3 orAdd Your Own.

Subject:Obligatory Welcome Post
Posted by:julietlovestory.
Time:5:13 pm.
Poetry community;

This is a place to post other peoples poetry and poetic lyrics. Please don't post your own there are other communities for that.

If you know who the poet is then please tell us, you can just post the poem, or you could write about why you like the poem, how it relates to you, how it makes you feel, or what you think it means.

If you are going to write about the poem or want to make an introductory post then please either lj cut your comments or make them as a reply to your post. (See this post for an example.)

You don't have to post the whole poem if you only feel that a section is relevant, or you could bold the parts that you like the most.

Thanks, Juliet.
Comments: Add Your Own.

LiveJournal for When these dead leaves were green.

View:User Info.
You're looking at the latest 9 entries.