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i was hoping for some clues on foot and rhythm and maybe some turns of phrase or imagery to help pin down the subject matter sounded vaguely preraphaelite to me-- you know, old myths and legends and what not. some sort of lancelot shit. so i though rossetti and took a cursory look but didn't look like it. i've never read the cavaliers. anyway im now resorting to brute force---google searches, etc. pathetic! if it was a dream you should write it. poems that come from dreams are the best. just say no to visitors. |
The description's too vague to say for sure but it sounds something from Tennyson's Idylls of the King.
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I don't know much about poetry, but I was thinking Keats as well. But it's not Keats, so way am I saying anything?
Anyway, I would need way more information to even Google this, but of the pre-20th century poems I know, I wonder... Could it be "Porphyria's Lover?" |
there once was a man from Nantucket?????
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But that's a gargantuan freaking cycle of Arthurian legend! It's like 20 poems. Which one do you think it might be specifically? I remember the one about the jealousy of Geraint. That one has some traveling and some hemming and hawing and fear of death and whatnot, but it's not a perfect fit by any means. Goddammit this is infuriating. |
i did check for lancelot and elaine but that wasn't quite it
she dies and he ain't coming and this morning he said short poem aghh wish he was more helpful-- i hate these fucking mysteries eh, who am i kidding, they're highly entertaining |
I'm really not trying to fuck with anyone.
I have a friend who gets very anxious whenever I don't return a call/text right away. She assumes I've died. This brought up a vague memory of a poem I read a long time ago. I tried searching through books, then google, then asked here. It's no big deal. No one panic. Enjoy your day. |
noooooooo! don't take our toys awayyyyy!!!
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FOUND IT!
I'm an idiot. Strange fits of passion have I known. Wordsworth. My horse moved on; hoof after hoof He raised, and never stopp’d: When down behind the cottage roof, At once, the bright moon dropp’d. What fond and wayward thoughts will slide Into a lover’s head! ‘O mercy!’ to myself I cried, ‘If Lucy should be dead!’ |
Keats was really close. I'll split the non-existent prize.
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ahhhhhh... satisfaction!
it's great to close those open loops and it's great fun trying we should make like, a game ha ha ha ha |
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Between whom? I totally said before we knew Keats was close that I thought of Keats. So... y'know... for your consideration and whatnot. Bah, I'm borderline poetry illiterate, so whatever. Except with the classless Beat hearhens :cool: |
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I was going to say, if we all need more distractions (which I sure as hell do), this could be something we obsessively flip out over all the time! :) But would it be 20-questions style, or more of this incidental business of someone trying to remember something and having next to no information about what it is? Eh? |
20 questions nah, that's a goofy game
guess the poem--that's it speaking of "close", and keats, my scattershot was so near, i was scanning coleridge last evening, and of course no luck ps- because of the unwanted visitor who interrupted the dreamed poem (kubla khan) (im crazy i know) |
Easy peasy:
Falconer Rough beast Bethlehem Go! |
"god I hate poetry." - The Dead MIlkmen
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lolyeats
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That's the motherfuckin' second coming. Er... what is "The Second Coming?" |
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