Posts Tagged ‘Poetry’

When your Heart Turns Cold – Tupac Shakur

cold heart

When your heart turns cold
it causes your soul 2 freeze
It spreads throughout your spirit
like a ruthless feeling disease
The walls that once were down
now stand firm and tall
Safe from hate/love, pain/joy
until u feel nothing at all
When ure heart turns cold
a baby’s cry means nothing
A dead corpse is trivial
Mothers neglecting children is daily
Loneliness becomes your routine friend
Death seems like tranquility
Sleeping is never pleasant
if u even sleep at all
u forget ideals and turn off the reason
2 make sure the product gets sold
You don’t understand how I behave
Just wait till your heart turns Cold!

timbo!!

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An Arundel Tomb – Philip Larkin

Philip Larkin

Philip Larkin

Poetry focus : Philip Larkin.  Whatever they may have said about him – the man wrote good poems.  Here’s An Arundel Tomb..

Side by side, their faces blurred,
The earl and countess lie in stone,
Their proper habits vaguely shown
As jointed armour, stiffened pleat,
And that faint hint of the absurd –
The little dogs under their feet.

Such plainness of the pre-baroque
Hardly involves the eye, until
It meets his left-hand gauntlet, still
Clasped empty in the other; and
One sees, with a sharp tender shock,
His hand withdrawn, holding her hand.

They would not think to lie so long.
Such faithfulness in effigy
Was just a detail friends would see:
A sculptor’s sweet commissioned grace
Thrown off in helping to prolong
The Latin names around the base.

They would not guess how early in
Their supine stationary voyage
The air would change to soundless damage,
Turn the old tenantry away;
How soon succeeding eyes begin
To look, not read. Rigidly they

Persisted, linked, through lengths and breadths
Of time. Snow fell, undated. Light
Each summer thronged the grass. A bright
Litter of birdcalls strewed the same
Bone-riddled ground. And up the paths
The endless altered people came,

Washing at their identity.
Now, helpless in the hollow of
An unarmorial age, a trough
Of smoke in slow suspended skeins
Above their scrap of history,
Only an attitude remains:

Time has transfigured them into
Untruth. The stone fidelity
They hardly meant has come to be
Their final blazon, and to prove
Our almost-instinct almost true:
What will survive of us is love

In 2 seconds 3o minutes..

timbo!!