Im opening this thread for anyone who writes or enjoy poetry, so you can share your poems or poems you like.
I have seen some poems scattered in the forum so maybe is time to start placing them in the same thread
Sorry mine are in spanish
But I think it will be lovely to have poems in all their original languages
Anyway first a fragment of a poem by Linda Goodman in her book Gooberz
The porm is called: While the Soul Slumbers
I would love to read poems of occultists. Will share mine soon.
Now here is one of mine an astrological poem
In spanish im hoping the automatic translator do not ruin it XD
Ancha
Los dioses beben en cantaros
Servidos a tope con el lĂquido
Que fluye desde el gran ánfora de su copero
Y su funciĂłn
Sostiene también la luz de un misterio
La manipulaciĂłn de las aguas
Que mueven incluso el firmamento
Agua que nos compone y recompone
Que nutre a la misma tierra
Para que nos pueda dar sustento
Y la fuente de este misterio
Que vierte gotas, torrentes y arroyos fluyentes
En el subsuelo
La tierra
Y en los cielos
Es sostenida
Sobre la cadera del copero
La misma cadera en la que el sol se posĂł gentilmente
En el momento de mi nacimiento
En ese entonces el portador del gran jarro
Con el sol sobre su cuerpo
me otorgĂł
Como regalo de nacimiento
una semilla para plantar
Bajo los sedimentos
Que decantaban
en los remansos de sus cataratas
Aquel dia
Las aguas vertidas
FluĂan en la frecuencia exacta
Para que sus ondas
Dibujaran el retrato preciso de PoseidĂłn
como rey de los océanos
Y ante la imagen
Como dirigidos por Triton el heraldo
Los peces multicolores
Del lago fueron guiados
A indicarme el modo
De cuidar de mi obsequio
La semilla creció como un gran árbol
De jugosas frutas doradas
Y durante cada cosecha
Puedo presentir a ganimedes
Mirando desde lo alto
Con una sonrisa en sus labios.
Here is another one hellenic poems in spanish xdd
Hope the translator wont ruin them
Estoy volando
Dentro y fuera de mi
navego en el espacio
Y me fundo en la via lactea espiralada
Y la gravedad de la tierra
Planta personas
Como bosques de abedules
Y martires que lloran
Con lágrimas q sacian la sed
De las raĂces de la cordura
Alimento inutil
Veneno en el agua
Venenosa también es la sangre servida en copas
Para las masas
Abedules de Gaia
Y estrellas de Urano
Canten al unisono acerca de la distopia
glorifiquemos las ruinas
Del abandono
En las costas del naufragio humano
Levanten estrellas amigas
De mármol blanco los antiguos pilares
Y dejenme reposar estas alas cansadas.
Wake up lion,
Awaken Wolf,
Awaken Eagle
inside you.
Awaken the fire,
awaken the Starlight,
awaken the mountains
that hasn´t moved since that eternal night.
Awaken the lovers
Awaken the truth
Awaken the posibility of new,
new me, new you.
Awaken ancient oak,
Awaken the mammoths of old,
Awaken the elephant who longs for the plains of Africa.
Awaken mice, rodents and squirrels
Awaken the Rhinoceros of Iron.
Awaken yourself whatever your spirit may be.
Me?
I have been hibernating for eons and centuries,
and what did i wake up to see?
Greed, lust and poverty.
So wake up the lions,
Awaken the wolves,
Wake up the eagles
and wake up the sun inside you.
What am i?
The Great Golden Dragon of Old,
Here to breath fire into your swords, hearts and souls.
I have been hibernating for eons and centuries,
but now i´m awake,
and those who brought this evil upon the world will burn.
So wake up!!
Wake up the bones of your Ancestors.
Wake up your DNA,
Wake up after you woke up and started your day.
For i have been hibernating for eons and centuries,
and all i woke up to see,
was greed lust and poverty.
And so it all must end now!
The second,
you,
wake,
up.
-KAE 
Square, splatted square on the wall,
Paint a picture, of times past,
Then stare, that portrait, to scan the room,
And fill all with your silent gloom.
Cut the moon blood with me babe,
By the dogs, on the floor,
Ripping and tearing the freshest meal,
Vivisection, a carcass,
Ghost eyes stare towards the sky,
Of our event horizon
Where the pond calls,
In shade still whispers,
Veiled faintly,
Red hair blues.
A couple short ones
(OC pls no steal you will regret)
Bookmarked and will be visiting this thread often.
I will share a poem now.
I Felt a Funeral in my Brain
I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading – treading – till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through –
And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum –
Kept beating – beating – till I thought
My Mind was going numb –
And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space – began to toll,
As all the Heavens were a Bell,
And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race
Wrecked, solitary, here –
And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down –
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing – then –
(wasn’t she simply lovely)
Spirit of the Dead
Thy soul shall find itself alone
'Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone –
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy:
Be silent in that solitude
Which is not loneliness – for then
The spirits of the dead who stood
In life before thee are again
In death around thee – and their will
Shall then overshadow thee: be still.
For the night – tho’ clear – shall frown –
And the stars shall look not down,
From their high thrones in the Heaven,
With light like Hope to mortals given –
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever :
Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish –
Now are visions ne’er to vanish –
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more – like dew-drop from the grass:
The breeze – the breath of God – is still –
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy – shadowy – yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token –
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries! –
(mmmm. dreamy)!
Such a character like out of time I mean Emily Dickinson, she was ahead of her time 
And obvious respect to Allan Poe
I feel really connected with his poem “Alone”
I will leave it here:
Alone by Edgar Allan Poe
From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d— I lov’d alone—
Then —in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—
also love the musical interpretation of Anna Barney In Sopor Aeternus
I think the art of Anna has been quite missundertood
as she refers to herself as the Goddess of Beatuy and presents herself as a widowd in mourning pain and sorrow
In a way I feel she addresses how humanity has forgotten real beauty in life
we have magazine models, plastic surgery and reallity television “hotties” as a standart of beauty
when in fact real beauty passes trough our eyes been unnoticed
I feel “Sopor Aeternus” name is referred to the long sleep of humankind
not noticing the real beauty of life
and whatching the worldly things as if they even matter, but never connecting to real beauty of life itself
Here is one of her versions of the pOem:
ALL BEAUTY SLEEPS…
Is this her? Her eyes! 
. She’s also got a cupid bow lip, like mine. The essence of a person can be captured in a picture, which in turn, can be a silent poem of a thousand words.
Lovely reading/singing of this poem. As a former dancer, I would love to see something choreographed to this. My heart is happy. 
The video you provided definitely puts a different twist on the poem. And what you’ve stated is on point! People never really understand why Beauty and the Beast is one of my favorite stories.
But you reminded me of Sleeping Beauty, too!
She Walks in Beauty
By Lord Byron (George Gordon)
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
As I search for what is ment to be,
I search for the sight of truth,
I search the truth of what I’ve seen.
I search to know how to remain clean,
To be seen by only those who know true sight,
The ones who know my heart’s delight.
And they keep me forever within there sight.
~
What it is that remains hidden
I seek this knowledge no knowing
If it would change the world or just myself
I seek to know and to show
The masses what had been secret
But if it somthing I must keep to my self
I know not if I can be a keeper
What would it bring to me
If I could not sing it’s glory
Which must be the reason why I have not found
This which is always around
This secret knowledge
That which is forbidden from being written
~
What if I awake to find out it all fake.
Only to realize it was a mistake
And the world can only remain if we dream
My efforts to awaken the masses and myself
Bring only the urge to stab my eyes out
When it’s finally realized the truth of our being
I’d rather not see my hideous self
That formed from deeds I’d never imagine doing
But yet I do them with regret
So oubtoo don’t live seeking only to forget.
Btw just writting I’m not scurred of waking just went that way with that poem.
I looooooove it!
And even if you were the tiny bit scared, it would be okay.
Sometimes, when we write, it can be our subconscious bringing things into the light.
Please share more!
Lovely!
feel very sincere and honest
Yes that is her, I always want to dance to her tunes, sometimes when I party at home, I invite my friends, and I usually have a special moment of the night, with a special friend of mine, we play one of her songs, and my friend and I try to pretend we dance, like in baroque times, with reverences and all that.
I feel my moves are not worthy of her art, but I guess to disrupt the night for just a moment playing that scene for all the guess is worth the while.
Just trying to add more beauty to life
Was just letting random out. Some was real feels like this one below. If you haven’t tried use darkness to cleanse negativity.
I guese I fear when I wake up my image of myself won’t be as great as I imagined.
I seek the light but yet the darkness
Is what gives me joy
what answers my call
Willing to be seen
The image at first that just of the void
But when I got closer out chose
An image I could understand
An image that seems to demand
Only my affection and respect
In it I find not neglect
I do not know what to offer
But in time I will, I love
The way you make me want to stay
And play or just simple be
I welcome you to my dreams
And in them there will be no screams
For you are friend I invite you,
Not those that dwell within you.
In you I know ones negativity
In an instant, can be purged
Just by letting you in.
Trusting you
We all have movements like this!
Any type of dancing is a form of beauty. The lyrics and dance combined bring beauty. I’ll share something I love in the way of dancing. I’m stuck watching YouTube videos until the art world opens up.
(The pole dancing one is definitely different!)
And why people think I’m a little weird, men who can country swing dance. Gimme!
And for you @Teodoro_Fortunato. 
I have used before.
Definitely a way with words. Ever joined a writing group in your area, @Vaynord?
WOWOWOWOWWOOWOWOWOW
Just flipping out with the baroque dancing XDDD
It defenetely suits me when somebody asked me to describe myself briefly
I would say: BAROQUE concupiscent and quite entropic XDD
And I really love the exageration and twisted like intrincations of baroque art, they are like the opposite of minimalism, like why would you like things to be simple if you can complicate them to the top I just love that.
I hope you get the nerdy joke of the meme , if not I will explain it to you
Thank you and it’s cool you’ve used darkness to cleanse befor
No I’ve never joined a writting group or anything like that I’ve had friends a long time ago where we would all show each other our work like 16 years ago, I’m just getting my way with words back when I put an intent on the poem it hasn’t seemed o one out as nicely.
Its feels just nessesary to place this hymn here:
Thrill with lissome lust of the light,
O man ! My man !
Come careering out of the night
Of Pan ! Io Pan .
Io Pan ! Io Pan ! Come over the sea
From Sicily and from Arcady !
Roaming as Bacchus, with fauns and pards
And nymphs and styrs for thy guards,
On a milk-white ass, come over the sea
To me, to me,
Coem with Apollo in bridal dress
(Spheperdess and pythoness)
Come with Artemis, silken shod,
And wash thy white thigh, beautiful God,
In the moon, of the woods, on the marble mount,
The dimpled dawn of of the amber fount !
Dip the purple of passionate prayer
In the crimson shrine, the scarlet snare,
The soul that startles in eyes of blue
To watch thy wantoness weeping through
The tangled grove, the gnarled bole
Of the living tree that is spirit and soul
And body and brain -come over the sea,
(Io Pan ! Io Pan !)
Devil or god, to me, to me,
My man ! my man !
Come with trumpets sounding shrill
Over the hill !
Come with drums low muttering
From the spring !
Come with flute and come with pipe !
Am I not ripe ?
I, who wait and writhe and wrestle
With air that hath no boughs to nestle
My body, weary of empty clasp,
Strong as a lion, and sharp as an asp-
Come, O come !
I am numb
With the lonely lust of devildom.
Thrust the sword through the galling fetter,
All devourer, all begetter;
Give me the sign of the Open Eye
And the token erect of thorny thigh
And the word of madness and mystery,
O pan ! Io Pan !
Io Pan ! Io Pan ! Pan Pan ! Pan,
I am a man:
Do as thou wilt, as a great god can,
O Pan ! Io Pan !
Io pan ! Io Pan Pan ! Iam awake
In the grip of the snake.
The eagle slashes with beak and claw;
The gods withdraw:
The great beasts come, Io Pan ! I am borne
To death on the horn
Of the Unicorn.
I am Pan ! Io Pan ! Io Pan Pan ! Pan !
I am thy mate, I am thy man,
Goat of thy flock, I am gold , I am god,
Flesh to thy bone, flower to thy rod.
With hoofs of steel I race on the rocks
Through solstice stubborn to equinox.
And I rave; and I rape and I rip and I rend
Everlasting, world without end.
Mannikin, maiden, maenad, man,
In the might of Pan.
Io Pan ! Io Pan Pan ! Pan ! Io Pan !
by Aleister Crowley “Hymn to Pan”
"The great beasts come, Io Pan ! I am borne
To death on the horn
Of the Unicorn. "
You’ll need to clue me in on this nerdy joke, sometimes my brain doesn’t understand complex things.
