Favorite poem

[quatorze 1]

Invictus
by William Ernest Henley

OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

and

An Irish Airman Forsees His Death
- by W. B. Yeats

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan's Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.

I'm not afriad of dying, I'm afraid of never really living- Erin Engle

[Lizard 0]

Not my favorite, but still a classic.

Kill My Landlord by Tyrone Greene.

Dark and lonley on a summer night.
Kill my landlord, Kill my landlord.

Watchdog barking, Do he bite?
Kill my landlord, Kill my landlord.

Through the window, break his neck.
Then the house I start to wreck.
Got no reason, what the heck.
Kill my landlord, kill my landlord.

C-I-L-L, My landlord.

[VanillaSkyGirl 6]

Quote

Read any PABLO NERUDA!!!!!!!!!!!

If you like poetry, u will fall in love with Neruda, esp. if you speak spanish. He was a Chilean poet exiled by the govt. All of his poems are written in spanish and translated.

READ! ENJOY! TRUST ME!

Poetry written in Spanish is sooooo incredibly beautiful, especially if it is read aloud in Spanish. The ryhthms and meanings within some Spanish poems that I have read (especially love poems...swoon) are unparalleled in English. Paige, if possible, try to have someone that speaks Spanish well read some of that poetry aloud to you in Spanish and translate it to you. It is just angelic to hear spoken out loud...just so beautiful!

[jdthomas 0]

Not sure that it is a poem, but I dig it anyway.

Such is the power of literature: it speaks of joy and makes one dance; it speaks of sarrow and makes one weep; it speaks of retirement and makes one detached; it speaks of love and makes one tender; it speaks of danger and makes one shiver; it speaks of pent up anger and makes one cautious; it speaks of indignation and makes one lay one's hand on the sword; it speaks of incitment to action and makes one throw down the pen; it speaks of the high and makes one soar up to the clouds; it speaks of the low and makes one roll down the rocks.
It shakes our hearts and dazzels our eyes, but this has nothing to do with stylistic embellishments.

www.greenboxphotography.com

[kallend 2,146]

The day she moved out was terrible--
That evening he went through hell.
Her absence wasn't a problem
But the corkscrew had gone as well.

...

The only sure way to survive a canopy collision is not to have one.

[JRock 0]

THAT IS AWESOME!!!!!

I totally forgot about Mr. Robinson's Neighborhood!!!

back when SNL was funny

[MochaSkyChick 0]

"Impeccable Conception"

I met a Lady Poet
who took for inspiration
colored birds, and whispered words,
a lover’s hesitation.

A falling leaf could stir her.
A wilting, dying rose
would make her write, both day and night,
the most rewarding prose.

She’d find a hidden meaning
in every pair of pants,
the hurry home to be alone
and write about romance.

- Maya Angelou

PMS #62
Zarza R[red

[Paige 0]

Quote

Quote

Read any PABLO NERUDA!!!!!!!!!!!

If you like poetry, u will fall in love with Neruda, esp. if you speak spanish. He was a Chilean poet exiled by the govt. All of his poems are written in spanish and translated.

READ! ENJOY! TRUST ME!

Poetry written in Spanish is sooooo incredibly beautiful, especially if it is read aloud in Spanish. The ryhthms and meanings within some Spanish poems that I have read (especially love poems...swoon) are unparalleled in English. Paige, if possible, try to have someone that speaks Spanish well read some of that poetry aloud to you in Spanish and translate it to you. It is just angelic to hear spoken out loud...just so beautiful!

Neruda is all about the rhythm and spoken word. I had an ex who was fluent in spanish. Didn't take much of that before I was ready to go

Tunnel Pink Mafia Delegate
www.TunnelPinkMafia.com

[rocketdog 0]

IT'S NOT SO MUCH A POEM, BUT ELOQUENT LIKE 1 NONETHELESS:

"For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin, real life, but there was always some obstacle in the way. Something to be got through 1st; some unfinished business; time still to be served; a debt to be paid; Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life."
-- Frank Souza

see the world! http://gorocketdog.blogspot.com

[VanillaSkyGirl 6]

Quote

Neruda is all about the rhythm and spoken word. I had an ex who was fluent in spanish. Didn't take much of that before I was ready to go

EXACTLY...I was reading some by myself once, and I was SWOONING. I needed to find my BF...fast...

[kallend 2,146]

Quote

Kallend inspired me to write this thread. Post your favorite poem.....here is one of mine:

Glad to be of service.
This is not quite so inspiring.

...

The only sure way to survive a canopy collision is not to have one.

[alcarterra 0]

Two of my favorite poems by Robert Frost:

Rose Pogonias

A Saturated meadow,
Sun-shaped and jewel-small,
A circle scarcely wider
Than the trees around were tall;
Where winds were quite excluded,
And the air was stifling sweet
With the breath of many flowers,--
A temple of the heat.

There we bowed us in the burning,
As the sun's right worship is,
To pick where none could miss them
A thousand orchises;
For though the grass was scattered,
Yet every second spear
Seemed tipped with wings of color,
That tinged the atmosphere.

We raised a simple prayer
Before we left the spot,
That in the general mowing
That place might be forgot;
Or if not all so favored,
Obtain such grace of hours,
That none should mow the grass there
While so confused with flowers.


A Peck of Gold

DUST always blowing about the town,
Except when sea-fog laid it down,
And I was one of the children told
Some of the blowing dust was gold.

All the dust the wind blew high
Appeared like gold in the sunset sky,
But I was one of the children told
Some of the dust was really gold.

Such was life in the Golden Gate:
Gold dusted all we drank and ate,
And I was one of the children told,
'We all must eat our peck of gold'.




alyson

team swooo
swooo #2

[DJatLarge 0]

Here is one I wrote a couple years ago, and it is actually published at poetry.com. I know I'm freaking famous. I was drunk and a bit depressed when it was written. Enjoy!

Ten years and 70lbs later

10 years and 70lbs later,
Fall still smells the same.
The Sting of the cold bites at the trees,
Holding as best as they can to all of their
leaves. Yet change always comes as they
crash to the ground, Blowing in the wind
like memories never found.
10 years and 70 lbs later,
Memories of love gained and later lost bite
at my nose and sting my eyes, Like daggers
of dust in the cool fall air.
But change always comes, and the leaves
crash down, leaving no impression but a
memory on the ground.
10 years, 70 lbs, and 8 addresses later,
The smell of youth and living like tomorrow
will never come. But tomorrow comes,
memories fade, and regret arrives in the
fall on the brisk winter wind

I have a few others, linked off of my website. Most of them really blow chunks!