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Title: Your favorite poem
Post by: Etaeb OLC on January 02, 2006, 04:55:21 am

I like reading love poems and I'm interested if there are others who like to share their favotite poem?

This one is mine

He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
from "The Wind Among the Reeds"

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

--W.B. Yeats, 1888

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Elijahs Impact on January 02, 2006, 02:01:52 pm

I found this one friendship:

"I wrote your name in the sand but the waves washed it away,
I wrote your name on my hand but washed it the next day,
I wrote your name on a piece of paper but accendentaly threw it away,
I wrote your name in my heart and forever it will stay."

I forget where I found and who wrote it.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: BabyBee on January 14, 2006, 02:20:04 pm

The Eagle
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

He clasps the crag with crooked hands;
Close to the sun in lonely lands,
Ring’d with the azure world, he stands.

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;
He watches from his mountain walls,
And like a thunderbolt he falls.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Joanna on January 15, 2006, 07:23:42 pm

Mine is one out of FotR... the one about Beren and Luthien. It's really long so I'll just write the first two stanzas....

The leaves were long
The grass was green
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair
And in the glade a light was seen
Of stars in shadow shimmering.
Tinuviel was dancing there
To music of a pipe unseen
And light of stars was in her hair
And in her raiment glimmering.

There Beren came from mountains cold
And lost he wandered under leaves
And where the elven river rolled
He walked alone and sorrowing.
He peered between the hemlock-leaves
And saw in wonder flowers of gold
Upon her mantle and her sleeves
And her hair like shadow following...

It goes on and on - 'tis a really sad poem :'(

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Etaeb OLC on January 16, 2006, 08:16:22 am

Those poem s are lovely :-* :-*

Thanks for posting. I loved reading them...

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: littlehafling on January 19, 2006, 10:40:44 pm

I have two favorites. The first one is...

The Road Not Taken
Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. 20

Aaand....

Sonnet 116
William Shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Elijahs Impact on January 27, 2006, 01:42:54 pm

"Love is like a delicate flower,
Cared for it will grow,
But left unnurished it will flaunder,
No seeds will remain
From this awesome flower domain."

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Rose on January 31, 2006, 11:24:43 pm

[quote author=Lumos link=board=17;threadid=29394;start=0#msg967084 date=1137728444]

[/quote]

Lumos, that is my favorite poem, too. I had to memorize it for seventh grade English class and I fell in love with it back then and it is still my favorite poem.

Thanks so much for posting your poems, everyone. I love poetry and have kind of let that love go by the wayside in favor of being a wife, Mom, LOTR, A&F, etc, etc. Thank you, Estaeb, for starting this thread and reawakening my love of poetry again for a few minutes. :)

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: mayadeprei on February 01, 2006, 02:34:00 pm

[quote author=Rose link=board=17;threadid=29394;start=0#msg972668 date=1138767883]
[quote author=Lumos link=board=17;threadid=29394;start=0#msg967084 date=1137728444]

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Elijahs Impact on February 05, 2006, 04:59:59 am

[quote author=Lumos link=board=17;threadid=29394;start=0#msg967084 date=1137728444]

[/quote]

My home tutor made me read that! I liked it then and still do. I had to answer questions about it.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Miss ANna on February 05, 2006, 08:44:52 am

It is a really fantastic poem, and i think its probably something no one can read without being effected. I always found it really inspirational.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Elijahs Impact on February 05, 2006, 09:18:54 am

When I read it for the first ever time I couldn't help but think of Hobbits and Elves!

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Nutella Sister on February 06, 2006, 04:44:55 pm

My favorite Poem is " She Walkes in Beauty" :-*

:D

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: jubeth on October 13, 2006, 02:30:05 pm

I love so many poems here are just a few of my favourites.

Song of Myself - Walt Whitman
Not Waving but Drowning - Stevie Smith
The love Song of J Alfred Prufrock- T.S Eliot
Ballad of Reading Gaol - Oscar Wilde
Stop all the Clocks - W H Auden
Do not go Gentle into that good night - Dylan Thomas
Sonnet 20 - William Shakespeare
The Stolen Child - W B Yeats
Break of Day in the Trenches - Isaac Rosenberg
Pretty much everything by John Donne but particularly Elegy 20: To his Mistress going to bed.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: delusional on October 13, 2006, 04:18:44 pm

For some reason, I just love this one:

TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

THE TIGER - WILLIAM BLAKE

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: jubeth on October 13, 2006, 04:25:37 pm

Well no surprise you like that because William Blake is a brilliant poet and artist, so you obviously have good taste. ;)

I loved the Songs of Innocence and Experience when I read them but have forgotten most of it to my shame, must add that to the pile of poems to re-read.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: delusional on October 13, 2006, 04:28:55 pm

Yay, I was hoping that someone else knew his work.

What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

That might just be my favorite line of poetry ever, hmm.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: jubeth on October 13, 2006, 04:36:47 pm

Oh this is reminding me how much I also loved 'The Marriage of Heaven and Hell', I've got an edition of the complete poems of Blake knocking around somewhere so I have no excuse not to revisit him.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: delusional on October 15, 2006, 11:15:07 pm

Yes, you have no excuse! I would love to get one of his books somewhere, I wonder how much they are?

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: jubeth on October 16, 2006, 03:06:44 pm

I bet you could pick up a cheaper 2nd hand copy somewhere quite easily, and the usual places like Amazon will stock them if on line shopping is better for you.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Hyper_gurl on November 10, 2006, 08:41:41 pm

They're all by e.e.cummings, because i'm a nerd, and i love that man.

i have found what you are like

i have found what you are like
the rain,

(Who feathers frightened fields
with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields

easily the pale club of the wind
and swirled justly souls of flower strike

the air in utterable coolness

deeds of green thrilling light
with thinned

newfragile yellows

lurch and.press

-in the woods
which
stutter
and

sing

And the coolness of your smile is
stirringofbirds between my arms;but
i should rather than anything
have(almost when hugeness will shut
quietly)almost,
your kiss

[somewhere i have never travelled]

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands

anyone lived in a pretty how town
by E. E. Cummings

anyone lived in a pretty how town

(with up so floating many bells down)

spring summer autumn winter

he sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men(both little and small)

cared for anyone not at all

they sowed their isn't they reaped their same

sun moon stars rain

children guessed(but only a few

and down they forgot as up they grew

autumn winter spring summer)

that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf

she laughed his joy she cried his grief

bird by snow and stir by still

anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones

laughed their cryings and did their dance

(sleep wake hope and then)they

said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon

(and only the snow can begin to explain

how children are apt to forget to remember

with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess

(and noone stooped to kiss his face)

busy folk buried them side by side

little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep

and more by more they dream their sleep

noone and anyone earth by april

wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men(both dong and ding)

summer autumn winter spring

reaped their sowing and went their came

sun moon stars rain

my sweet old etcetera, e. e. cummings

my sweet old etcetera
aunt lucy during the recent

war could and what
is more did tell you just
what everybody was fighting

for,
my sister

isabel created hundreds
(and
hundreds)of socks not to
mention shirts fleaproof earwarmers

etcetera wristers etcetera, my
mother hoped that

i would die etcetera
bravely of course my father used
to become hoarse talking about how it was
a privilege and if only he
could meanwhile my

self etcetera lay quietly
in the deep mud et

cetera
(dreaming,
et
cetera, of
Your smile
eyes knees and of your Etcetera)

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: delusional on November 10, 2006, 08:43:53 pm

Beautiful, I am a fan of that as well! There's just something about the words that make me shiver, in a good way of course :)

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: JordanRiver12881 on November 11, 2006, 12:04:08 am

I love middle English poetry (Shakespeare, Tennyson, Blake, etc.). However, my black poetry class has really gotten me into a lot of African-American poetry. I love this one from Bob Kaufman (1965), "Grandfather Was Queer, Too".

EDIT: This isn't my FAVORITE poem, but I really like it. :) I'll post more later.

Grandfather Was Queer, Too

He was first seen in a Louisiana bayou,
Playing chess with an intellecual lobster,
They burned his linoleum house alive
And sent him off to jail.
He wrote home every day, to no avail.
Grandfather had cut out, he couldn't raise the bail.

Next seen, skiing some dusty Texas road,
An intellectual's soul hung from his ears,
Discussing politics with an unemployed butterfly.
They hung that poor butterfly, poor butterfly.
Grandfather had cut and run, he couldn't raise the bail.

Next seen on the Arizona desert, walking,
Applying soothing poultices to the teeth
Of an aching mountain.
Dentist all over the state brought gauze balls,
Bandaged the mountain, buried it at sea.
Grandfather had cut and run, he couldn't raise the bail.

Next seen in California, the top part,
Arranging a marriage, mating trees,
Crossing a rich redwood and a black pine.
He was exposed by the Boy Scouts of America.
The trees were arrested on a vagrancy charge.
Grandfather had cut and run, he couldn't raise the bail.

Now I have seen him here. He is beat.
His girl friend has green ears;
She is twenty-three months pregnant.
I kissed them both;
Live happily ever after.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Cristiel on November 11, 2006, 04:36:23 am

This is one of my favorites. It's called "Eternity" and is written by Arthur Rimbaud (English translation from the original French version):

It has been found again.
What ? – Eternity.
It is the sea fled away
With the sun.

Sentinel soul,
Let us whisper the confession
Of the night full of nothingness
And the day on fire.

From humain approbation,
From common urges
You diverge here
And fly off as you may.

Since from you alone,
Satiny embers,
Duty breathes
Without anyone saying : at last.

Here is no hope,
No orietur.
Knowledge and fortitude,
Torture is certain.

It has been found again.
What ? – Eternity.
It is the sea fled away
With the sun.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: JordanRiver12881 on November 16, 2006, 05:12:48 pm

:o :o :o :o 8)

I went to a poetry reading last night ( a required attendance for that Black Poetry class of mine). It was a benefit for the Katrina Hurricane victims of New Orleans, Louisiana, US from last year. :'( My Black Poetry professor read. It. Was. The. Best. 8) 8) *double cool*

I wanted to post one of my professor's poems. It's titled elocation (or, exit us), and to give her credit, her name is Evie Shockley. :D

the city is american, so she
can map it. train tracks, highways slice through, bleed
only to one side. like a half-red sea
permanently parted, the middle she’d

pass through, like the rest, in a wheeling rush,
afraid the divide would not hold and all
would drown – city as almighty ambush –
beneath the crashing waves of human hell.

the city’s infra(red)structure sweats her,
a land(e)scape she can’t make, though she knows
the way. she’s got great heart, but that gets her where? egypt’s always on her right (it goes

where she goes), canaan’s always just a-head,
and to her left, land of the bloodless dead.

Here's her picture. :D She cut her twists to about shoulder length though. :)

[IMG]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v208/jordanriver12881/EvieShockley.jpg[/IMG]

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: x...sara...x on December 28, 2006, 09:01:11 pm

I love Bécquer... I don't know poetry in English... :)

RIMA LIII

Volverán las oscuras golondrinas
en tu balcón sus nidos a colgar,
y otra vez con el ala a sus cristales
jugando llamarán.

Pero aquellas que el vuelo refrenaban
tu hermosura y mi dicha a contemplar,
aquellas que aprendieron nuestros nombres...
¡esas... no volverán!.

Volverán las tupidas madreselvas
de tu jardín las tapias a escalar,
y otra vez a la tarde aún más hermosas
sus flores se abrirán.

Pero aquellas, cuajadas de rocío
cuyas gotas mirábamos temblar
y caer como lágrimas del día...
¡esas... no volverán!

Volverán del amor en tus oídos
las palabras ardientes a sonar;
tu corazón de su profundo sueño
tal vez despertará.

Pero mudo y absorto y de rodillas
como se adora a Dios ante su altar,
como yo te he querido...; desengáñate,
¡así... no te querrán!

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Nutella Sister on December 29, 2006, 12:47:01 pm

[quote author=Elijahs Impact link=board=17;threadid=29394;start=0#msg959128 date=1136228512]
I found this one friendship:

"I wrote your name in the sand but the waves washed it away,
I wrote your name on my hand but washed it the next day,
I wrote your name on a piece of paper but accendentaly threw it away,
I wrote your name in my heart and forever it will stay."

I forget where I found and who wrote it.
[/quote]

my friends write that for me in my Diery and my Year book ;D

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Elijah Love on January 30, 2007, 10:27:29 pm

[color=Pink]The Highwayman

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees
And the moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas
The road was a ribbon of moonlight across the purple moor
And the Highwayman came riding, riding, riding
The Highwayman came riding up to the old inn door.
He’d a French cocked hat on his forehead and a bunch of lace at his chin
A coat of the scarlet velvet and britches of brown doe skin
They fitted with never a wrinkle his boots were up to the thigh
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle his pistol butts a-twinkle
His rapier hilt a-twinkle under the jewelled sky

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark Inn yard
He tapped with his whip on the shutters but all was locked and barred
He whistled a tune to the window and who should be waiting there
But the landlords black eyed daughter, Bess the landlords daughter
Plaiting a dark red love knot into her long black hair.

But deep in the dark old Inn yard a stable wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened and his face was white and peaked
His eyes were hollows of madness his hair like mouldy hay
But he loved the landlords daughter, the landlords red lipped daughter
And dumb as a dog he listened and he heard the robber say.

One kiss my bonny sweetheart for I’m after a prize tonight
But I will return with the yellow gold before the morning light
Yet if they press me sharply and harry me through the day
Then look for me by moonlight watch for me by moonlight
I’ll come to thee by moonlight though hell should bar the way.

Up he stood in his stirrups he scarce could reach her hand
But she loosened her hair in the casement his face burned like a brand
As the black cascades of perfume came tumbling over his breast
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight oh sweet black waves in the moonlight
He tugged on his rein in the moonlight and galloped away to the west.

He did not come in the dawning and he did not come at noon
And out of the tawny sunset before the rise of the moon
When the road was a gypsy’s ribbon looped across the moor
The redcoat troop came marching, marching, marching
King George’s men came marching up to the old Inn door

They said no word to the landlord they drank his ale instead
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed
And two of them knelt at her casement with their muskets by their sides
There was death at every window and hell at one dark window
For Bess could see from her casement the road that he would ride.

They had bound her up to attention with many’s a sblack personing jest
They had bound a musket beside her with the muzzle beneath her breast
Now keep good watch and they kissed her she heard the dead man say
O look for me by moonlight watch for me by moonlight
I’ll come to thee by moonlight though hell should bar the way.

She twisted her hands behind her but all of the knots held good
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood
She stretched and strained in the darkness the hours crawled by like years
Till now on the stroke of midnight cold on the stroke of midnight
The tip of one finger touched it the trigger at least was hers.

The tip of one finger touched it she strove no more for the rest
She stood up straight to attention with the muzzle beneath her breast
She would not risk their hearing she would not strive again
For the road lay bare in the moonlight blank and bare in the moonlight
And the blood in her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love’s refrain.

Tlot tlot tlot had they heard it ? The horses hooves rang clear
Tlot tlot tlot tlot in the distance were they deaf that they did not hear?
Then down the ribbon of moonlight and over the brow of the hill
The Highwayman came riding, riding, riding
the redcoats looked to their priming she stood up straight and still.

Tlot tlot in the frosty silence tlot tlot in the echoing night
Nearer he came and nearer her face was like a light
Her eyes grew wide for a moment she drew one last deep breath
Then her finger moved in the moonlight her musket shattered the moonlight
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him with her death.

He turned and rode to the westward he did not know who stood
With her head bowed over her musket drenched in her own red blood
‘Twas dawn before he heard it and he slowly blanched to hear
How Bess the landlords daughter the landlords black eyed daughter
Had watched for her love in the moonlight and died in the darkness there.

O back he rode like a madman shrieking a curse to the sky
The white road smoking behind him his rapier brandished high
Blood red were his spurs in the golden noon wine red was his velvet coat
When they shot him down on the highway down like a dog on the highway
He lay in his blood on the highway the bunch of lace at his throat.

Still of a winter’s night they say when the wind is in the trees
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor
A highwayman comes riding, riding, and riding
A highwayman comes riding up to the old inn door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark Inn yard
He taps with his whip on the shutters but all is locked and barred
He whistles a tune to the window and who should be waiting there
But the landlords black eyed daughter Bess the landlords daughter
Plaiting a dark red love knot into her long black hair.

I just love this one. It is SOOOOOOOOO romantic[/color]

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Emmi on April 04, 2007, 06:10:03 am

[I] I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,
dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix;
Angel-headed hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection
to the starry dynamo in the machinery of the night. [/I]

~the opening of Howl by Allen Ginsberg

One of my favorite poems written.

I've also been really in to Keats lately. "Eve of St. Agnes" and "When I have fears that I may cease to be" in particular.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Lyla on April 07, 2007, 11:20:13 am

Mine is an Irish Blessing -short, but I like it :

>May your day be touched by a bit of Irish luck,
brightened by a song in you heart,
and warmed by the smiles of the people you love!!!<

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: kissed_by_an_anel on April 16, 2007, 03:02:35 pm

i have no idea who wrote this or where its from, i read it once when i was 12 and iv always remembered it for some strange reason, its kinda dark.
plz let me know if anyones heard of it

On the wings of death the soul takes flight
into the land where there is no light
for those who believe what the saviour said
will rise in glory for they be dead
so death comes to us just to open the door
to the kingdom of god and life ever more

???

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Storyteller on July 02, 2007, 09:31:05 am

Goodness This is a difficult one. There are SO MANY....

Robert Frost's "Mending Wall" is on the list. The thing I love best is the way most people misinterpret it, thinking it says that walls between us are good when he is actually, in my humble opinion, saying exactly the opposite. My favorite lines are:

"Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence."

Something we need to remember today, but that's what makes it a great poem. It stays relevant.

Another is "American Tune" by Paul Simon, a poem he put to music like so many others. My favorite bit of it is.

"And I don't know a soul who's not been battered
I don't have a friend who feels at ease
I don't know a dream that's not been shattered or driven to its knees
But it's alright, it's alright, for we lived so well, so long
Still, when I think of the road we're traveling on
I wonder what's gone wrong, I can't help it I wonder what's gone wrong"

Those aren't all but they're enough to be going on with.

Hugs,
Rach

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: elizabeth coffey on July 05, 2007, 05:42:38 am

'o wet pet

ode to a goldfish, short but sweet, to the point.

;D

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: maryd on July 16, 2007, 05:34:33 am

Sorry I don't remember for the life of me who wrote this...

'The owl and the p*ssycat
sailed through space
On an intergalactic ship
They kept hunger at bay
With three pills a day
And drank through a protein drip
The owl dreamed of mince
And slices of quince
And remarked about how life had gone flat:
"It might be alright
To fly faster than light,
But I prefer the boat and the cat!"'

And I love 'The Camels Complaint' by, I think, Charles Causley?

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: bacon on July 16, 2007, 12:28:39 pm

WB Yeats' He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven (Equilibrium, anyone?)

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread carefully because you tread on my dreams.

That last sentence kills me every time. I LOVE it.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: bacon on July 16, 2007, 12:32:32 pm

I was also quite struck by this line from Viggo's "Hillside" (1994): We underestimate damage done to the sky when we allow words to slip away into the clouds.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: maryd on July 17, 2007, 04:54:43 am

Oh yes, I love 'He Wishes For the Clothes of heaven'. We read that in school as a class and I ended up copying it out and sticking it on my wall, its just so beautiful.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Storyteller on August 21, 2007, 01:41:20 pm

So many of the poems I love are listed here already. But here's another favorite of mine. Its entitled There Will Come Soft Rains and the author is Sara Teasdale.

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground,
And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pools singing at night,
And wild plum trees in tremulous white;

Robins will wear their feathery fire,
Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one
Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree,
If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn
Would scarcely know that we were gone.

Kind of puts it all in perspective, doesn't it?

Hugs,
Rach

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: elizabeth coffey on September 05, 2007, 02:38:03 am

whats the poem in the hobbit again please post someone cos love that one..bilbo wrote it :)

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Haru on September 23, 2007, 03:58:01 am

I love poetry ;D My most loved writers would be Auden, Milton, Blake, Shakespeare, Byron and the list goes on!
My two fave poems at the moment are 'Stop all the Clocks' by Auden and 'The Night has a Thousand Eyes' by Francis William Bourdillon.

Stop all the Clocks - WH Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

I read that one out at a friends funeral.

The Night has a Thousand Eyes - Francis William Bourdillon

The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one:
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Billswife on April 02, 2008, 10:36:09 pm

The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe. It was written so long ago and its still so classic and has such a good rythm.

Once upon a minight dreary
While I pondered weak and weary
Overy many volume of old forgotten lore.

Awsome.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Chrysanthemus on April 08, 2008, 10:32:49 pm

My favourite poets are Sylvia Plath, Alvaro de Campos (Fernando Pessoa), Eugenio de Andrade, Alexander Blok, Dylan Thomas, T.S.Eliot.

i don't know which poem to post here...

i would post one from alvaro de campos but you wouldn't understand :-\

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: raquel19 on May 16, 2008, 04:44:52 pm

Frodo's Lament for Gandalf
(sung by Frodo)
from Fellowship of the Ring

When evening in the Shire was grey
his footsteps on the Hill were heard;
before the dawn he went away
on journey long without a word.

From Wilderland to Western shore,
from northern waste to southern hill,
through dragon-lair and hidden door
and darkling woods he walked at will.

With Dwarf and Hobbit, Elves and Men,
with mortal and immortal folk,
with bird on bough and beast in den,
in their own secret tongues he spoke.

A deadly sword, a healing hand,
a back that bent beneath its load;
a trumpet-voice, a burning brand,
a weary pilgrim on the road.

A lord of wisdom throned he sat, swift in anger, quick to laugh;
an old man in a battered hat
who leaned upon a thorny staff.

He stood upon the bridge alone
and Fire and Shadow both defied;
his staff was broken on the stone,
in Khazad-dum his wisdom died.

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Billswife on February 06, 2009, 11:47:43 am

I love that poem RL Star...!
Tolkien really created a nice visual..ie: "When the Shire was gray"
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Here's another fun one for Tolkien fans. But it's not Tolkien :oit's Edda.
The poem is called "Lokasenna" and was about the norse gods.

1. "Speak now, Eldir, | for not one step
Farther shalt thou fare;
What ale-talk here | do they have within,
The sons of the glorious gods?"

Eldir spake:
2. "Of their weapons they talk, | and their might in war,
The sons of the glorious gods;
From the gods and elves | who are gathered here
No friend in words shalt thou find."

Loki spake:
3. "In shall I go | into Ægir's hall,
For the feast I fain would see;

{p. 154}

Bale and hatred | I bring to the gods,
And their mead with venom I mix."

Eldir spake:
4. "If in thou goest | to Ægir's hall,
And fain the feast wouldst see,
And with slander and spite | wouldst sprinkle the gods,
Think well lest they wipe it on thee."

Loki spake:
5. "Bethink thee, Eldir, | if thou and I
Shall strive with spiteful speech;
Richer I grow | in ready words
If thou speakest too much to me."

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: Lanta the Gemstar on March 04, 2009, 10:52:02 pm

Just need to get this one out there...

It's by Thomas Wolfe, and isn't strictly poetry, but the opening lines of one of his novels, Look Homeward, Angel:

A stone, a leaf, an unfound door;
of a stone, a leaf, a door.
And of all the forgotten faces.

Naked and alone we came into exile.
In her dark womb we did not know our mother's face;
from the prison of her flesh we come into the unspeakable and
incommunicable prison of this earth.

Which of us has known his brother?
Which of us has looked into his father's heart?
Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent?
Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone?

O waste of loss, in the hot mazes, lost,
among bright stars on this most weary unbright cinder, lost!

Remembering speechlessly we seek the great forgotten language,
the lost lane-end into heaven,
a stone, a leaf, an unfound door.
Where? When?
O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again

Title: Re:Your favorite poem
Post by: maryd on March 06, 2009, 11:55:55 am

I like that, Gem. It sounds like it could be read as poetry.

Recently I'm revisiting Emily Dickinson's 'Death' and Andrew Marvell's 'To His Coy Mistress' - they both are beautiful poems and I intend to use lines from them in my art project.

Emily Dickinson - Death

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

Or rather, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

Andrew Marvell - To His Coy Mistress

Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day;
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood;
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow.
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.

But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long preserv'd virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust.
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none I think do there embrace.

Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may;
And now, like am'rous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour,
Than languish in his slow-chapp'd power.
Let us roll all our strength, and all
Our sweetness, up into one ball;
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life.
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.