Inspirational poetry
Discussion
If you work hard and do your best, you'll get the sack like all the rest.
But if you laze and mess about, you'll live to see the job right out.
The work is hard, the pay is small, so take your time and sod '
em all.
And on your headstone neatly lacquered, these three words,
JUST BLEEDING KNACKERED.
But if you laze and mess about, you'll live to see the job right out.
The work is hard, the pay is small, so take your time and sod '
em all.
And on your headstone neatly lacquered, these three words,
JUST BLEEDING KNACKERED.
John Hegley makes me laugh, Larkin inspires.
John Hegley;
That's Entertentment
While I was gone away
down to the spray
of the ocean,
leg bent
the dog went
in my tent,
it was a small wet
and yet
it meant
more to me
than all the sea did.
Smothering Sunday
To a wonderful mother
with wrinkly skin,
this card was concocted
by one of your kin.
I hope that you like it
it's specially for you,
Iv'e sprinkled some glitter
on top of some glue.
I don't like the bought ones
I thought you should know,
they're too superficial
and two quid a throw
some of them.
On the bus
for a while I was a bus conductor
and one day my Dad got on my bus
and sat on the long seat next to my cubbyhole
he was proud to see me in a uniform and a job
and in a loud voice he said to everyone
do you remember the bus conductor's outfit you had
when you were a boy John?
and I said no Dad
but I remember how you used to enjoy beating me
Philip Larkin ;
First Sight
Lambs that learn to walk in snow
When their bleating clouds the air
Meet a vast unwelcome, know
Nothing but a sunless glare.
Newly stumbling to and fro
All they find, outside the fold,
Is a wretched width of cold.
As they wait beside the ewe,
Her fleeces wetly caked, there lies
Hidden round them, waiting too,
Earth's immeasurable surprise.
They could not grasp it if they knew,
What so soon will wake and grow
Utterly unlike the snow.
Cut Grass
Cut grass lies frail:
Brief is the breath
Mown stalks exhale.
Long, long the death
It dies in the white hours
Of young-leafed June
With chestnut flowers,
With hedges snowlike strewn,
White lilac bowed,
Lost lanes of Queen Anne's lace,
And that high-builded cloud
Moving at summer's pace.
Days
What are days for?
Days are where we live.
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days?
Ah, solving that question
Brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running over the fields.
John Hegley;
That's Entertentment
While I was gone away
down to the spray
of the ocean,
leg bent
the dog went
in my tent,
it was a small wet
and yet
it meant
more to me
than all the sea did.
Smothering Sunday
To a wonderful mother
with wrinkly skin,
this card was concocted
by one of your kin.
I hope that you like it
it's specially for you,
Iv'e sprinkled some glitter
on top of some glue.
I don't like the bought ones
I thought you should know,
they're too superficial
and two quid a throw
some of them.
On the bus
for a while I was a bus conductor
and one day my Dad got on my bus
and sat on the long seat next to my cubbyhole
he was proud to see me in a uniform and a job
and in a loud voice he said to everyone
do you remember the bus conductor's outfit you had
when you were a boy John?
and I said no Dad
but I remember how you used to enjoy beating me
Philip Larkin ;
First Sight
Lambs that learn to walk in snow
When their bleating clouds the air
Meet a vast unwelcome, know
Nothing but a sunless glare.
Newly stumbling to and fro
All they find, outside the fold,
Is a wretched width of cold.
As they wait beside the ewe,
Her fleeces wetly caked, there lies
Hidden round them, waiting too,
Earth's immeasurable surprise.
They could not grasp it if they knew,
What so soon will wake and grow
Utterly unlike the snow.
Cut Grass
Cut grass lies frail:
Brief is the breath
Mown stalks exhale.
Long, long the death
It dies in the white hours
Of young-leafed June
With chestnut flowers,
With hedges snowlike strewn,
White lilac bowed,
Lost lanes of Queen Anne's lace,
And that high-builded cloud
Moving at summer's pace.
Days
What are days for?
Days are where we live.
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days?
Ah, solving that question
Brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running over the fields.
If by Inspirational you mean to waken you to thoughts, feelings and basic ideas, try Kim Addonizzio, my current read for modern poetry.
'What do Women Want'
https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/what-do-women-...
'For Desire'
https://genius.com/Kim-addonizio-for-desire-from-p...
Powerful stuff eh ?
'What do Women Want'
https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/what-do-women-...
'For Desire'
https://genius.com/Kim-addonizio-for-desire-from-p...
Powerful stuff eh ?
B17NNS said:
BryanC said:
Love thatsleepera6 said:
Wilfried Owen - "Dulce et Decorum Est"
Our English teacher at school was actually history teacher who took an English class as well. So our class was on Dulce et Decorum Est, The Soldier and In Flanders Fields while the other sets were doing far less interesting poems. Probably not inspirational in the way the OP means, but they're stirring stufft
t - John Cooper Clarke
Like a Night Club in the morning, you’re the bitter end.
Like a recently disinfected st-house, you’re clean round the bend.
You give me the horrors
too bad to be true
All of my tomorrow’s
are lousy coz of you.
You put the Shat in Shatter
Put the Pain in Spain
Your germs are splattered about
Your face is just a stain
You’re certainly no raver, commonly known as a drag.
Do us all a favour, here... wear this polythene bag.
You’re like a dose of scabies,
I’ve got you under my skin.
You make life a fairy tale... Grimm!
People mention murder, the moment you arrive.
I’d consider killing you if I thought you were alive.
You’ve got this slippery quality,
it makes me think of phlegm,
and a dual personality
I hate both of them.
Your bad breath, vamps disease, destruction, and decay.
Please, please, please, please, take yourself away.
Like a death a birthday party,
you ruin all the fun.
Like a sucked and spat our smartie,
you’re no use to anyone.
Like the shadow of the guillotine
on a dead consumptive’s face.
Speaking as an outsider,
what do you think of the human race
You went to a progressive psychiatrist.
He recommended suicide...
before scratching your bad name off his list,
and pointing the way outside.
You hear laughter breaking through, it makes you want to fart.
You’re heading for a breakdown,
better pull yourself apart.
Your dirty name gets passed about when something goes amiss.
Your attitudes are platitudes,
just make me wanna piss.
What kind of creature bore you
Was is some kind of bat
They can’t find a good word for you,
but I can...
tt.
t - John Cooper ClarkeLike a Night Club in the morning, you’re the bitter end.
Like a recently disinfected s
t-house, you’re clean round the bend. You give me the horrors
too bad to be true
All of my tomorrow’s
are lousy coz of you.
You put the Shat in Shatter
Put the Pain in Spain
Your germs are splattered about
Your face is just a stain
You’re certainly no raver, commonly known as a drag.
Do us all a favour, here... wear this polythene bag.
You’re like a dose of scabies,
I’ve got you under my skin.
You make life a fairy tale... Grimm!
People mention murder, the moment you arrive.
I’d consider killing you if I thought you were alive.
You’ve got this slippery quality,
it makes me think of phlegm,
and a dual personality
I hate both of them.
Your bad breath, vamps disease, destruction, and decay.
Please, please, please, please, take yourself away.
Like a death a birthday party,
you ruin all the fun.
Like a sucked and spat our smartie,
you’re no use to anyone.
Like the shadow of the guillotine
on a dead consumptive’s face.
Speaking as an outsider,
what do you think of the human race
You went to a progressive psychiatrist.
He recommended suicide...
before scratching your bad name off his list,
and pointing the way outside.
You hear laughter breaking through, it makes you want to fart.
You’re heading for a breakdown,
better pull yourself apart.
Your dirty name gets passed about when something goes amiss.
Your attitudes are platitudes,
just make me wanna piss.
What kind of creature bore you
Was is some kind of bat
They can’t find a good word for you,
but I can...
t
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