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Leave me a poem.

M.A.R.

M.A.R.

Well-Known Member
Messages
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Type of diabetes
Prediabetes
Treatment type
Diet only
It could be a poem or the lyrics to a song you like. Here is a song from the 70s by Moris: "El oso" (The Bear).

I lived in the forest, so happy
I walked and walked without ceasing
The mornings and afternoons were mine
At night, I would lie down to rest

But one day, a man came with his cages
He locked me up and took me to the city
In the circus, they taught me acrobatics
And just like that, I lost my beloved freedom

"Just settle for it," an old tiger told me
"You'll never lack a roof or food
They only ask us to perform our tricks
And bring joy to the children"

Four years of this life have passed
I traveled the world with the circus like that
But I could never quite forget
My forests, my afternoons, or myself

In a small, remote town
Someone failed to lock the padlock
It was a moonless night
And I left the city

Now, I tread the soil of my forest
Once again, the green of freedom
I am old, but the afternoons are mine
I return to the forest; I am truly happy
 
One of my very favourites:

His Apologies - Rudyard Kipling

Master, this is Thy Servant. He is rising eight weeks old.
He is mainly Head and Tummy. His legs are uncontrolled.
But Thou has forgiven his ugliness, and settled him on Thy knee ...
Art Thou content with Thy Servant? He is very comfy with Thee.

Master, behold a Sinner! He hath committed a wrong.
He hath defiled Thy Premises through being kept in too long.
Wherefore his nose has been rubbed in the dirt, and his self-respect has been bruised,
Master, pardon Thy Sinner, and see he is properly loosed.

Master - again Thy Sinner! This that was once Thy Shoe,
He has found and taken and carried aside, as fitting matter to chew.
Now there is neither blacking nor tongue, and the Housemaid has us in tow.
Master, remember Thy Servant is young, and tell her to let him go!

Master, extol Thy Servant, he has met a most Worthy Foe!
There has been fighting all over the Shop - and into the Shop also!
Till cruel umbrellas parted the strife (or I might have been choking him yet)
But Thy Servant has had the Time of his Life - and now shall we call on the vet?

Master, behold Thy Servant! Strange children came to play,
And because they fought to caress him, Thy Servant wentedst away.
But now that the Little Beasts have gone, he has returned to see
(Brushed - with his Sunday collar on) what they left over from tea.

Master, pity Thy Servant! He is deaf and three parts blind.
He cannot catch Thy Commandments. He cannot read Thy Mind.
Oh, leave him not to his loneliness; nor make him that kitten's scorn.
He hath had none other God than Thee since the year that he was born.

Lord, look down on Thy Servant! Bad things have come to pass.
There is no heat in the midday sun, nor health in the wayside grass.
His bones are full of an old disease - his torments run and increase.
Lord, make haste with Thy Lightnings and grant him a quick release!
 
Mrs Redboots said:
One of my very favourites:

His Apologies - Rudyard Kipling

Master, this is Thy Servant. He is rising eight weeks old.
He is mainly Head and Tummy. His legs are uncontrolled.
But Thou has forgiven his ugliness, and settled him on Thy knee ...
Art Thou content with Thy Servant? He is very comfy with Thee.

Master, behold a Sinner! He hath committed a wrong.
He hath defiled Thy Premises through being kept in too long.
Wherefore his nose has been rubbed in the dirt, and his self-respect has been bruised,
Master, pardon Thy Sinner, and see he is properly loosed.

Master - again Thy Sinner! This that was once Thy Shoe,
He has found and taken and carried aside, as fitting matter to chew.
Now there is neither blacking nor tongue, and the Housemaid has us in tow.
Master, remember Thy Servant is young, and tell her to let him go!

Master, extol Thy Servant, he has met a most Worthy Foe!
There has been fighting all over the Shop - and into the Shop also!
Till cruel umbrellas parted the strife (or I might have been choking him yet)
But Thy Servant has had the Time of his Life - and now shall we call on the vet?

Master, behold Thy Servant! Strange children came to play,
And because they fought to caress him, Thy Servant wentedst away.
But now that the Little Beasts have gone, he has returned to see
(Brushed - with his Sunday collar on) what they left over from tea.

Master, pity Thy Servant! He is deaf and three parts blind.
He cannot catch Thy Commandments. He cannot read Thy Mind.
Oh, leave him not to his loneliness; nor make him that kitten's scorn.
He hath had none other God than Thee since the year that he was born.

Lord, look down on Thy Servant! Bad things have come to pass.
There is no heat in the midday sun, nor health in the wayside grass.
His bones are full of an old disease - his torments run and increase.
Lord, make haste with Thy Lightnings and grant him a quick release!
Click to expand...
I love that poem and never read it before!
 
Antje77 said:
I love that poem and never read it before!
Click to expand...
I know that many of Kipling's views are outdated and not what we care to think today, but he did write some really glorious poetry! And, indeed, some wonderful stories - he wasn't all White Man's Burden!
 
M.A.R. said:
Thank you, Mrs Redboots. This is beautiful and deeply moving. It made me think of the love and loyalty our dogs give us throughout their whole lives.
Click to expand...
I grew up with dogs, although we aren't allowed them in our block of flats, so haven't ever had a dog of my own. But they are wonderful animals. And that poem - I prayed those last two lines for my father when he lay dying; he had loved his dogs so much (I never did ask him which one he was looking forward most to meeting again in heaven!)...
 
Now I'll leave you with one of my poems, but it's written in Spanish and I don't have much faith in the translator:
Suburban Photographs

They go up and down the night's stairs,
the timid blinking of a million eyes,
stars in the sky,
thorns in the field,
and a can of sardines the cat ate.

Orphan of the air that tastes like a pizzeria,
he takes a drink and doesn't fall off his chair.

Human tongue-swallower,
with a wind in a salad,
an endless cigarette,
with lungs in the air...
¿Mi Buenos Aires, querida?


Another poem of mine, it has no title.

I looked at the clock and fell asleep instantly.

Then I began to walk along the ceiling,
I dreamed I was barking,
as if wanting to explain to the world my profound desolation.

Yes, two o'clock, it's two in the afternoon and I still remember it,
like a hunter I can follow my tracks on the ceiling.

My first naked image before the world, there it is,
I point to it, I point to it and I stop for all eternity.
 
Mrs Redboots said:
I grew up with dogs, although we aren't allowed them in our block of flats, so haven't ever had a dog of my own. But they are wonderful animals. And that poem - I prayed those last two lines for my father when he lay dying; he had loved his dogs so much (I never did ask him which one he was looking forward most to meeting again in heaven!)...
Click to expand...
Wait for me in heaven, my love,
if you go first.
Wait for me, for I will soon go
where you are.
Wait for me in heaven, my love,
if you go first.
Wait for me in heaven, my love,
so we can start anew.
(Francisco "Paquito" López Vidal)
 
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This is a favourite of mine, especially when I am feeling a bit lazy

Dust if you must,
By Rose Milligan

Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better
To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed;
Ponder the difference between want and need?

Dust if you must, but there's not much time,
With rivers to swim, and mountains to climb;
Music to hear, and books to read;
Friends to cherish, and life to lead.

Dust if you must, but the world's out there
With the sun in your eyes, and the wind in your hair;
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain,
This day will not come around again.

Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
Old age will come and it's not kind.
And when you go (and go you must)
You, yourself, will make more dust.
 
Pipp said:
This is a favourite of mine, especially when I am feeling a bit lazy

Dust if you must,
By Rose Milligan

Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better
To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed;
Ponder the difference between want and need?

Dust if you must, but there's not much time,
With rivers to swim, and mountains to climb;
Music to hear, and books to read;
Friends to cherish, and life to lead.

Dust if you must, but the world's out there
With the sun in your eyes, and the wind in your hair;
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain,
This day will not come around again.

Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
Old age will come and it's not kind.
And when you go (and go you must)
You, yourself, will make more dust.
Click to expand...
This poem makes me reflect on one of the things Stoicism says: "Think about your death, not to be sad, but to value the present more. It doesn't matter how long you live, it's the quality of the days you live that matters." Cheers!
 
Disorder by Chris Loos

have ADHD
And ADD
And OCD
And a,b,c,d,e,f,g,h,I,j,k,l,m,n,o,p,o,p,o,p,
Oh my God I'm doing it again,
That was so fun!
Let's try it again backwards.
Maybe,
Just maybe,
I'll remember it
the first time,
Because last time
The world said I was mentally disabled.
Am I disabled?
An I disabled?
Am I disabled because I'm not able to be stable sitting at the labeled table.
Oooooohhhhhjh that rhymed.
Am I bipolar to?
Or am I just funny? Because everybody else is laughing.
HAHAHAHAHA HILARIOUS.
Laughing because mom was in the hospital
And I forgot to take my medicine.
I've had all kinds of medication,
Antidepressants,
anti anxiety medication,
Ritalin,
straterra,
vyvance,
concerta,
adderall,
add em all up,
60 milligrams
Used to be
80 milligrams.
I'm hungry!
I haven't ate ALL day!
Can we go to McDonald's?
I want a large sprite
And a bigmack
Bigmack
Bigmack
Big stack of prescriptions that aren't telling me
the side effects are worse
than the disorder.
OH MY GOD!!! SHE IS CUTE.
Sometimes I shout
the most obvious things,
Sometimes I can't sit still,
Sometimes I daydream,
Sometimes I,
Sometimes I,
All the time they give me pills
Filled with the daily routine of
not eating
Not sleeping,
Not talking,
No distractions what so ever.
And everyday I'm faced with the decision
Of taking these pills,
Small capsules injected with who knows what,
And shoving them down my throat.
It's like
It's like
It's like
"My mind is telling me no.
But by mommy, my mommy is telling me yes" and so are my doctors,
Brothers,
Sisters,
Family,
Friends,
And I'm crazy because
I'd rather let my mind temple run through time
Back to 99
When I became a statistic.
Back when I was
1 in every 4 boys taking medicine every morning.
But now.
Now,
The medicines we take are
Nationally classified with cocaine and meth.
Now,
2.7 million children like me take mind altering drugs
Every morning.
Now,
Straterra and antidepressants
Are linked to thoughts of death,
0 to 5 year olds
taking these medicines
could fill 6 football stadiums,
1 out of every 5 high school boys are diagnosed with ADHD
And 67% of them take medication,
Medication,
Medication.
Are we there yet?
I like that movie!
The acting was
Flawless.
His daughter was.
Ok ok, stay on task.
I know I have alot of disorders,
Yes, I do.
But I'm still taking
AP and IB classes.
I'm on honor roll again.
I can control my adhd,
I write poetry
Poetry
Poetry
baby,
Courtesy of disorders,
Courtesy of statistics,
Compliments of months alone sitting in my bedroom
Thinking of ways to be normal,
Because apparently.
I'm mentally disabled.
 
M.A.R. said:
This poem makes me reflect on one of the things Stoicism says: "Think about your death, not to be sad, but to value the present more. It doesn't matter how long you live, it's the quality of the days you live that matters." Cheers!
Click to expand...
Or
What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.
(William Henry Davis)

And there are many others.
 
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