Do they still write poetry like this these days?

Oscar Wilde (1854–1900). Poems. 1881.





38. In the Gold Room: a Harmony











HER ivory hands on the ivory keys


Strayed in a fitful fantasy,


Like the silver gleam when the poplar trees


Rustle their pale leaves listlessly,


Or the drifting foam of a restless sea


When the waves show their teeth in the flying breeze.





Her gold hair fell on the wall of gold


Like the delicate gossamer tangles spun


On the burnished disk of the marigold,


Or the sun-flower turning to meet the sun


When the gloom of the jealous night is done,


And the spear of the lily is aureoled.





And her sweet red lips on these lips of mine


Burned like the ruby fire set


In the swinging lamp of a crimson shrine,


Or the bleeding wounds of the pomegranate,


Or the heart of the lotus drenched and wet


With the spilt-out blood of the rose-red wine.

Do they still write poetry like this these days?
sounds like porn to me





Oscar Wilde was gay I think





a great author





"we may all be in the gutter but some of us are looking up at the stars" loosely quoted
Reply:hm.........I really dont know but that is a good poem!!





Great!! 10/10
Reply:I sort of do poetry, here's one of mine:





Gudfar had hoped for another visit from Odin for the funeral, but somehow the magic seemed to have departed with Halfdan. Gudfar noticed an old scruffy raven that flew down and perched in a tree. It seemed to be in attendance on the funeral ceremony. He thought that maybe it was a sign from Odin but he was not sure. The raven sat there in the tree all day. After the death ritual was over, and the all-night drinking party at Stein Hall was at an end, Gudfar went out to get some fresh air early in the morning. It was still dark out. He was surprised to see the big old raven still sitting in the tree. He called to it, now thinking that perhaps it was indeed a sign. “Oooooooooodin,” he called softly to the strange bird. It just sat there in the tree. Disappointed, Gudfar turned to go back inside Stein Hall. Just as he turned his back on the bird, he heard the flapping of wings. He turned around to see the raven heading right for him. He waited. The raven landed on the steps above Gudfar. It ****** its head from side to side like birds do. Its eyes glittered strangely.


“Do you have something to say to me old friend?” asked Gudfar with amusement.


The raven flew right at him, and landed on his right shoulder. It sat there silently facing forward, as if it were looking at what Gudfar was looking at. Gudfar remained quiet, waiting. After a few minutes the old bird leaned close to Gudfar’s ear, and plainly said, “Glemme Ne, Gudfar.”


Gudfar turned his head to look at the raven but it had lifted off, and was flying away. As it flew off Gudfar heard it say again, “Glemme Ne, Gudfar, “Glemme Ne.” (Forget not)


Odin had come after all. He decided to tell no one but his wife Freydis.


During the days after the funeral, everyone relied on Gudfar and Olaf for comfort. Harald was especially lost, and he stayed close to Bjorn and the old wizard. The boy was now king after his father. And as had been agreed upon beforehand, Guthorm would rule as Harald’s regent until Halfdan’s son was old enough to rule on his own. No one else ever found out who Gudfar really was. Halfdan was missed sorely, and his people remembered him always. All of his devoted warriors swore their undying loyalty to his son of the noble blood, King Harald Halfdansson.


And now I have come to the end of my story since there is nothing more to say. It was indeed true that when Halfdan passed out of this life, much of the magic went with him. I, who was once Gudfar in a past life long ago, have now fulfilled my solemn promise to my king and brother. I remember him well. There has never been anyone like Halfdan the Black, either before or since. Forgive me if I have left anything out or gotten anything wrong. It has after all been a very long time.


Harald went on to become a famous and powerful king in his own right but that is another story for another time. As you may have guessed, I’ve promised to tell his story too. May the Great Spirit Overlord assist me.


May Odin the All-Father bless and keep you always.


Until next time, I bid you SKOAL!





From Halfdan the Black


Copyright 2003 by Carl Thompson