Poems for lilyayl

[cinaed]

This week our prompt was actually Sheppard's team and poetry. As in, we would choose four poems, one for each team member, and then the other would get to guess which one's for which. :) Here we go!

"Outlook" by Archibald Lampman

Not to be conquered by these headlong days,
  But to stand free: to keep the mind at brood
  On life’s deep meaning, nature’s altitude
On loveliness, and time’s mysterious ways;
At every thought and deed to clear the haze
  Out of our eyes, considering only this,
  What man, what life, what love, what beauty is,
This is to live, and win the final praise.

Though strife, ill fortune and harsh human need
  Beat down the soul, at moments blind and dumb
  With agony; yet, patience—there shall come
    Many great voices from life’s outer sea,
Hours of strange triumph, and, when few men heed,
    Murmurs and glimpses of eternity.

*

"Unusual Gravitation" by Marcella Durand

If my distance from you were doubled,
the attractive force would be quartered;
your speed is sufficient to prevent your
falling, and just enough to keep you
from flying away -- such orbit enables

me, speaking of bodies, to invent telescopes
and keep after you, explaining that motion
is an instrument fine and honed. Watch here
this diagram: a balanced reflector can detect
a planet through its disc-like appearance
or its motion against a background of stars.

A wandering star, then, is closer than a fixed
wallpaper of points, linked, your orbit
to my orbit. What seems still is farther away
and oblivious to me. Against such spiralling
away and repellent movement, is response,

circular as it is, and then each planet is
discovered, and hidden bodies, opaque
against such matter, in delicate calculation
appear, and whether fragment or sphere,
each casts its influence upon the other,
each orbit moves slightly, each moved.

*

"Refugee Blues" by W. H. Auden

Say this city has ten million souls,
Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes:
Yet there's no place for us, my dear, yet there's no place for us.

Once we had a country and we thought it fair,
Look in the atlas and you'll find it there:
We cannot go there now, my dear, we cannot go there now.

In the village churchyard there grows an old yew,
Every spring it blossoms anew:
Old passports can't do that, my dear, old passports can't do that.

The consul banged the table and said,
"If you've got no passport you're officially dead":
But we are still alive, my dear, but we are still alive.

Went to a committee; they offered me a chair;
Asked me politely to return next year:
But where shall we go to-day, my dear, but where shall we go to-day?

Came to a public meeting; the speaker got up and said;
"If we let them in, they will steal our daily bread":
He was talking of you and me, my dear, he was talking of you and me.

Thought I heard the thunder rumbling in the sky;
It was Hitler over Europe, saying, "They must die":
O we were in his mind, my dear, O we were in his mind.

Saw a poodle in a jacket fastened with a pin,
Saw a door opened and a cat let in:
But they weren't German Jews, my dear, but they weren't German Jews.

Went down the harbour and stood upon the quay,
Saw the fish swimming as if they were free:
Only ten feet away, my dear, only ten feet away.

Walked through a wood, saw the birds in the trees;
They had no politicians and sang at their ease:
They weren't the human race, my dear, they weren't the human race.

Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors,
A thousand windows and a thousand doors:
Not one of them was ours, my dear, not one of them was ours.

Stood on a great plain in the falling snow;
Ten thousand soldiers marched to and fro:
Looking for you and me, my dear, looking for you and me.

*

"The Aliens" by Charles Bukowski

you may not believe it
but there are people
who go through life with
very little
friction or
distress.
they dress well, eat
well, sleep well.
they are contented with
their family
life.
they have moments of
grief
but all in all
they are undisturbed
and often feel
very good.
and when they die
it is an easy
death, usually in their
sleep.
you may not believe
it
but such people do
exist.
but I am not one of
them.
oh no, I am not one
of them,
I am not even near
to being
one of
them
but they are
there
and I am
here.

Comments

[lilyayl.livejournal.com]

I thought for sure the first was John's until I read the third, which describes how John must feel on Earth so very perfectly.

The second is Rodney's. :)

So process of elim...

Ronon
Rodney
John
Teyla (the last two lines sealed this one for me)

[cinaed.livejournal.com]

*laughs* Rodney's was obvious, I know, but I had to use it. And yes for the rest of them. :)