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Poem on your mind

A platform to express and share your enthusiasm and passion for poetry. What are your treasured poems and poets? Don't hesitate to showcase the poems you've penned yourself!
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Penelope

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Re: Poem on your mind

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Oooh let's tell each other what we bought with our very own money. What a lovely subject. I'll try and make it poetic.

I did get pocket money from my Mum. It was one shilling a week, the first I remember, but I mostly bought sweets.
I used to steal empty bottles from behind the pub...and take them back to the shop in the village, and get threepence for three.
With which threepence I bought black and white mints. They were layered liquorice and white fondant cream cut into squares and I called them intermittent mints, because I liked words and I had asked my Mum what 'intermittent showers' meant whilst listening to the weather forecast on the radio.

When I grew older I got five shillings a week. I mostly bought nylon stockings with seams up the back from the market. My Mum bought my clothes, but nylon stockings were so prone to laddering, that I had to subsidise my supplies by buying my own. They cost three shillings and ninepence and were called 'London Bronze'. With the remainder of the money I bought makeup because I was one of those girls who was quite a plain child but suddenly became very pretty in my early teens. So I was really very vain.

Then I fell in love with Tommy Steele, and Elvis Presley and all of my money went on gramophone records, 78rpm bakelite. So I fluttered my eyelashes and gave a seductive smile, and was given the job of helping the man on the market to pack up his records after I finished school, and I even used to go with him in his van to other markets at the weekends and sell records. So I used to get a special discount on any I wanted to buy. That's when I bought all the records of Gerry Lee Lewis at the same time as I was buying records of the London Philharmonic orchestra, Tchaikovsky, Chopin, and Beethoven. Opera by Owen Brannigan, and Mario Lanza. Jazz by Chris Barber and Acker Bilk. I thought I was a beatnik - much more left bank of Paris, than hippy flower child.

When I started work and earned a wage - I had already met Norman (we met when I was fourteen and still at grammar school). So then, with my wages, I gave one third to my Mum for my keep, I saved one third for my wedding, and I had the last third as pocket money and I bought books mainly (Dennis Wheatley) and 'things' for my bottom drawer. Plates and pots and pans.......

And now, I still buy books mainly, but I work with them so get them at discount prices, as I did the Elvis records.

Manipulative...moi?
Only those become weary of angling who bring nothing to it but the idea of catching fish.

He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....

Rafael Sabatini
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realiz

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I always received a small allowance when I was young which I probably spent on penny candy. When I turned 12, I was given a $25 a week clothing allowance which I also supplemented with babysitting money. I was a careful shopper and saved up until the sales were on to get more for my money. I did not spend my money on records, but just listened to the ones my older sisters bought, or the radio, as I preferred to save my money. I did not buy books either as I had a great public library just a block from my house that I visited regularly. The only thing that I did spend (waste) my money on was cigarettes for the few years that I picked up that terrible habit (epidemic in my neighbourhood at that time). Glad I was able to kick that habit before it became too ingrained...smoke free for 34 years!
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Penelope

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realiz said:

Glad I was able to kick that habit before it became too ingrained...smoke free for 34 years!
Oh, good for you. I didn't start to smoke until I was 21! How stupid is that??

I stopped whilst I was having babies, then started again....Even more stupid.

But I haven't smoked for three years now. I sometimes dream that I am smoking and am so upset with myself, then, when I wake up I'm so happy that it is only a dream.
Only those become weary of angling who bring nothing to it but the idea of catching fish.

He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....

Rafael Sabatini
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giselle

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Penelope wrote: Oooh let's tell each other what we bought with our very own money.
When I was kid I attended a summer program at the local YMCA, there was swimming and gym and arts .. most of us boys were keen on swimming and gym but would slip away when it was time for arts. Next door to the Y was a shop, Tom Munro Sports, which carried mostly hockey gear and skis. It was an old fashioned sports store, the kind that have largely disappeared, packed from floor to ceiling with hockey gear, and it was dark and cool and smelled of new gear. I was lucky to have a quarter in my pocket at the time, so there was nothing I could afford in Tom Munro Sports. But I loved going in there, ducking off the hot sidewalk and wandering about in the store, bumping up against the gear and joking with my friends.

Later, in my early teens, when I had a paper route and I was still doing the Y program (only the swimming part because I was doing my lifeguard certification), I recall wandering into Tom Munro’s while I was waiting for mom to pick me up. I knew that there were cheaper places to buy hockey gear and that I shouldn’t spend money here but I wanted, just this once, to buy something at Tom Munro’s .. I had only $10 in my pocket so I couldn’t buy much but I picked out a couple of small items and went to the counter. The guy was friendly, he knew me from all those summers of hanging out in his store, maybe he was Tom Munro? I don’t know, but he was a nice guy .. he rang me through and gave me a free hockey puck!

I think Tom Munro’s went out of business, its not there anymore and everybody shops at the big box sports stores anyhow, but I did go back before it closed and bought my first pair of skis. I had a part time job by then and had saved up for this big purchase (over $100!). I drove myself to Tom Munro’s that day, in my mom’s car.
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Penelope

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giselle, you always were a very sporty type, weren't you? I know you are still a runner.

I liked horse riding but other than that I wasn't ever interested in competitive sport. They say we British only like 'sitting down' sports, like horse riding, cycling, rifle shooting, canoeing and toboganning.

What a lovely story about Tom Munro's. Of course, I would never have been found in such a place, but it is lovely to visualise.
But I loved going in there, ducking off the hot sidewalk
We don't have many days of 'hot sidewalk'. We have wet, tepid pavements. LOL We would go into shops to get out of the rain.

he rang me through and gave me a free hockey puck!
and even the most sporting of schoolboys wouldn't have known what to do with a hockey puck. I did play hockey for my school team for a little while, as goal-keeper, but we used a ball.....and, hockey is a GIRL'S game here. LOL....
Only those become weary of angling who bring nothing to it but the idea of catching fish.

He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....

Rafael Sabatini
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realiz

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I sometimes dream that I am smoking and am so upset with myself, then, when I wake up I'm so happy that it is only a dream.
Even though it has been many years for me, I still sometimes smoke in my dreams. Just goes to show you how well your brain hangs onto addictions.
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Penelope

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Mystical moments:

The loveliest of love poems:


I think I shall stop startled
If ever we meet after our next birth,
Walking in the light of a far away world.
I shall know those dark eyes then as morning stars,
And yet feel that they have belonged
To some unremembered evening sky of a former life.
I shall know that the magic of your face is not all its own,
But has stolen the passionate light that was in my eyes
At some immemorial meeting,
And then gathered from my love
A mystery that has now forgotten its origin.

Lay down your lute, my love
Leave your arms free to embrace me.
Let your touch bring my overflowing heart
To my body's utmost brink.
Do not bend your neck
And turn away your face,
But offer up a kiss to me,
Which has been like some perfume
Long closd in a bud.
Do not smother this moment under vain words
But let our hearts quake
In a rush of silence
Sweeping all thoughts to the shoreless delight.

You have made me great with your love,
Though I am but one among many,
Drifting in the common tide,
Rocking in the fluctuant favour of the world.
You have given me a seat,
Where poets of all time bring their tribute,
And lovers with deathless names
Greet one another across the ages.
Men hastily pass me in the market,
Never noting how my body
Has grown precious with your caress,
How I carry your kiss within,
As the sun carries in its orb
The fire of the divine touch
And shines for ever.
[Rabidranath Tagore]
Only those become weary of angling who bring nothing to it but the idea of catching fish.

He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....

Rafael Sabatini
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giselle

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Thanks for this great Tagore love poem Penny, I'm posting one that I like as well, its of love that has run its course, at least that's how I read it, but I think its quite sensual and beautiful:

The Lost Mind

You are standing outside the doorway, screened by the curtain,
wondering whether to come into my room.
Just once I heard the faint tinkle of your bangles.
I can see a bit of your sari-end, pale brick red,
stirring in the wind
without the door.
I can't see you,
but I can see that the western sun
has stolen your shadow
and cast it on the floor of my room.

Below your sari's black border I see
your creamy golden feet hesitating
on the threshold.
But I won't call you today.
Today my light-weight awareness has scattered itself
like stars in the deep sky of the moon's waning phase,
like white clouds surrendering themselves
to the blue of the post-rains.

My love
is like a field long abandoned by the farmer,
its boundary-ridges in ruins,
on which absent-minded primal nature
has re-asserted her rights
without giving so much as a thought.
Grass has grown over it,
weeds without names have sprung.
It has merged with the wilderness around it,
as at the end of night the morning star
lets its own light's pitcher sink
into the light of the morning.

Today my mind's not hemmed in by boundaries,
so you might misunderstand me.
All the old signs are wiped out.
You won't be able to hold me together anywhere
tight in any trussing.

Rabindranath Tagore
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Penelope

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Wasn't he great? Especially at elucidating one's deeper emotions.

I feel as though I understand this poem so completely. When one first falls in love and that love is all-consuming, but, unless it is unrequited, it eventually becomes companionable rather than passionate.

We sometimes want to be alone with our 'big' thoughts and our life's chosen partner should not feel abandoned, it is just the way we are fashioned. In the poem, it sounds as though her gentle presence is making him feel neglectful of their love, but she is wise in hesitating because, I hope, she knows that he will come back to her when he needs to, and of course, it must work both ways. What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander, as it were. 8)
Only those become weary of angling who bring nothing to it but the idea of catching fish.

He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world is mad....

Rafael Sabatini
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realiz

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Wasn't he great? Especially at elucidating one's deeper emotions.
Yes, he is. I like both of these. The first one is totally consumed with love, a love that will never end, in this life or the next. The second about a waning or perhaps lost love, or as Penny suggested merely a natural period in a life-long love. Here is another by Togore about being free from wanting or needing, or maybe finding what you need inside instead of outside?

The Last Bargain

"Come and hire me," I cried, while in the morning I was walking on the stone-paved road.
Sword in hand, the King came in his chariot.
He held my hand and said, "I will hire you with my power."
But his power counted for nought, and he went away in his chariot.


In the heat of the midday the houses stood with shut doors.
I wandered along the crooked lane.
An old man came out with his bag of gold.
He pondered and said, "I will hire you with my money."
He weighed his coins one by one, but I turned away.


It was evening. The garden hedge was all aflower.
The fair maid came out and said, "I will hire you with a smile."
Her smile paled and melted into tears, and she went back alone into the dark.


The sun glistened on the sand, and the sea waves broke waywardly.
A child sat playing with shells.
He raised his head and seemed to know me, and said, "I hire you with nothing."
From thenceforward that bargain struck in child's play made me a free man.
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