Little potato when it is born
Spreads its branches on the ground
Little girl when she sleeps
Puts her hand on her heart
I am tiny
The size of a button
I carry daddy in my pocket
And mommy in my heart
The pocket got a hole
And daddy fell on the ground
Mommy who is the dearest
Stayed in my heart
this post was submitted on 07 Jun 2024
94 points (97.0% liked)
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Heh, my lemmy client is formatting this poem like it’s SQL code
lighght
because it messes with my brain just righght
The Charge Of The Light Brigade by Alfred, Lord Tennyson!
Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die. Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.
It's been my mantra and my battlecry for the past few years now. Love it.
"The Chaos"
Because English will fuck you up.
So wie die Ordnung stets in Chaos geht,
wenn keine Kraft dagegen steht,
so herrscht das Chaos nie allein:
Es braucht die Ordnung, um zu sein.
Das Chaos, das sich selbst bezwingt,
indem es langsam Ordnung bringt,
gebiert aus Dunkelheit und Dreck
schön langsam, aber stetig, Form und Zweck,
kurz: Leben, das sich selbst erhält,
und auch im Sturme Kraft behält,
um nach dem Regen neu zu blühn,
so wie auch wir es alle tun.
I like these two a lot. Mainly because they're the only two that stuck with me.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/L(a
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Love_Song_of_J._Alfred_Prufrock
London
By William Blake
I wander thro' each charter'd street,
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow.
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every Man,
In every Infants cry of fear,
In every voice: in every ban,
The mind-forg'd manacles I hear
How the Chimney-sweepers cry
Every blackning Church appalls,
And the hapless Soldiers sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls
But most thro' midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlots curse
Blasts the new-born Infants tear
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse
How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood.
How much shit could a dipshit dip if a dipshit could dip shit.
Here I sit, same as ever. Took a dump, pulled the lever. The toilet clogged. The water flowed. Look out world, it's a motherload!.
Why is it my favorite? I have no idea... Probably because I'm awful.
There was a young lady from Venus, Whose body was shaped like a - DATA!
-Star Trek TNG & Picard
Billy Connolly's "Mary Rose"
Mary Rose
Sat on a pin
Mary rose