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Favorite Poems

   Discussion: Favorite Poems
Gordondon son of Ethelred · 18 years, 11 months ago
We had a favorite poets thread, How about one for favorite poems. A nice format for long poems would be to quote part of it and give a link to the entire poem.
goovie is married! Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
"We had a favorite poems thread, How about one for favorite poems."

*blink* how about we proof what we write before we post it? :)
Gordondon son of Ethelred Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
I have no idea what you are talking about :-)
It's a girl! Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
um... I take it you corrrected it before I read it just now? Cos it does say "favorite poets"  *looks confused*
goovie is married! Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
he edited it after i bugged him about it. :)
It's a girl! Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
ahh... that would explain it!
Shelly Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
nice icon, ell  ;)
Gordondon son of Ethelred Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made:
Our times are in His hand
Who saith "A whole I planned,
Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!"
full text
Jºnªthªn Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
How can goovie grow old with you when you're old already?
Lisa Kay Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
LMAO
goovie is married! Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
dude, i'm not growing old with him. i'm convincing myself that i'm going to be young forever while making fun of him for being older than dirt. :)
Rachel Beck Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
My grandma used to quote that, then say, "Browning didn't know a darn thing about being old."
Sara Woodward · 18 years, 11 months ago

OFT I had heard of Lucy Gray:
And, when I crossed the wild,
I chanced to see at break of day
The solitary child.

No mate, no comrade Lucy knew;
She dwelt on a wide moor,
--The sweetest thing that ever grew
Beside a human door!

You yet may spy the fawn at play,
The hare upon the green;
But the sweet face of Lucy Gray
Will never more be seen.

...

http://www.bartleby.com/145/ww158.html

First read this one when I was 11. We had to do a collection of original poetry and others poetry centering around a theme. I chose a theme of death for mine.

Misch · 18 years, 11 months ago
^kat^ had a TMBG Song Title Poetry contest on her radio show, The Eclectic Cafe.

here's my entry.
goovie is married! · 18 years, 11 months ago
I love you, I love you, I do
But don't get excited
I love monkeys, too
It's a girl! Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
word.
Jºnªthªn · 18 years, 11 months ago
I always loved the line from Ars poetica by Archibald MacLeish, "a poem should not mean, but be."
Gordondon son of Ethelred · 18 years, 11 months ago
`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"
Check out the poem with the Tenniel Illustration.
Steph Strenger · 18 years, 11 months ago

This has been one of my favorites since I first read it 3 years ago.  Yes, it's slightly disturbing, but sometimes distrubing is a good thing.

 

Farm boys wild to couple
With anything         with soft-wooded trees
With mounds of earth         mounds
Of pine straw         will keep themselves off
Animals by legends of their own:
In the hay-tunnel dark
And dung of barns, they will
Say         I have heard tell

That in a museum in Atlanta
Way back in a corner somewhere
There's this thing that's only half
Sheep         like a woolly baby
Pickled in alcohol         because
Those things can't live         his eyes
Are open         but you can't stand to look
I heard from somebody who ...

Read the whole thing here.

A girl named Becca · 18 years, 11 months ago

Today in Spanish class, we read a poem by Bcquer that I really liked.  As it's in Spanish, I won't bore you with the whole thing (unless you ask :)), but the lines that first caught my attention were:
Podr no haber poetas, pero siempre
                 habr poesa.

There could be no poets, but always
                 there will be poetry.

(That may not be the best possible translation, but it's fairly literal, and it was the meaning of the words that seemed important to me.  :))

Gordondon son of Ethelred Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
I really like that.
A girl named Becca Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
Any guesses as to why my font changes halfway through the first sentence?
Gordondon son of Ethelred Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
I checked the source code and there isn't anything there, it shouldn't have changed. Intersting.

There could be no be HTML coders but always there will be HTML coding errors.
nate... Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
My guess is the special character in the name.
A girl named Becca Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
Hmm, probably....I couldn't remember the alt+ code to get those characters, so I just typed them in Word and pasted....that's probably the problem.  Anyone want to give me/tell me where to find the code things so I can fix it?  :)
nate... Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
http://www.asciitable.com/
A girl named Becca Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
Thank you!  :)
A girl named Becca Back · 18 years, 11 months ago
Hmm...doesn't seem to have helped, though.....ah well.
Gordondon son of Ethelred · 18 years, 11 months ago
This was what I read at my father's funeral.

Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that ofttimes hath
Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.


Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is famed to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:-do I wake or sleep?

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