dammit

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.

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?????

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!!!

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.

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

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:

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

lolyeats

what's that widening gyre again

religioso y filisteo

That's the motherfuckin' second coming.

Er... what is "The Second Coming?"