Favorite Poems

Books Matter.

Re: Favorite Poems

Postby Aquila89 » Fri Jan 22, 2016 1:24 am

W. H. Auden: Funeral Blues

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 forever: 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.
  • 5

As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.
--Carl Jung
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Re: Favorite Poems

Postby jbobsully11 » Tue May 24, 2016 3:25 pm

So I haven't posted here in a while, and also I just found out that an old XKCD comic was referring to this poem.

"Fire and Ice" by Robert Frost

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
  • 5

Crimson847 wrote:In other words, transgender-friendly privacy laws don't molest people, people molest people.

(Presumably, the only way to stop a bad guy with a transgender-friendly privacy law is a good guy with a transgender-friendly privacy law, and thus transgender-friendly privacy law rights need to be enshrined in the Constitution as well)
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Re: Favorite Poems

Postby Nikkict » Tue May 24, 2016 3:38 pm

I love fire and ice! My all time favorite poem is:

Lord Byron

"She walks in beauty, like the night"

SHE walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meets in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress
Or softly lightens o'er her face,
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,—
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent.
  • 6

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Re: Favorite Poems

Postby Piter Lauchy » Tue May 24, 2016 8:56 pm

Do song lyrics count? I'm in a kinda emo-y phase right now and these lyrics really speak to me.

Avatar - New Land

A new world awaits
I'm flying without an escape plan
Break through the gate
Take off, take me on
Break through the sky
I will save you

I woke up too late
Danger ahead and behind us
Become and create
Here comes the dawn,
Crossing the canyon

Fly beyond the oceans
Trying to find a place
Home is somewhere out there
Somewhere you'll be safe
Sleep my child and dream of the new land

You won't be alone
Remember, you've all got each other
Crack through the stone
There's silver inside
We'll all be alright

Fly beyond the oceans
Trying to find a place
Home is somewhere out there
Somewhere you'll be safe
Sleep my child and dream of the new land

New born,
Promise
Soon will be departed
Sleep until we reach the new land

Fly beyond the oceans
Trying to find a place
Home is somewhere out there
Somewhere you'll be safe
Sleep my child and dream of the new land

Fly beyond the oceans
Trying to find a place
Home is somewhere out there
Somewhere you'll be safe
Sleep my child and dream of the new land
  • 4

The Oatmeal wrote:Live life passionately and love everyone like they are family, because Jesus is always with you. Jesus loves you seriously bigtime. He'd hug you until your eyeballs exploded out of your skull if he ever met you. He'd windsurf across oceans of dead Nazis which he personally slaughtered just to tell you that your new haircut is the bee's knees. [...]
Praise Jesus, especially when it's sunny outside because Jesus would totally be cool with you praising while you get a nice tan.
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Re: Favorite Poems

Postby Nikkict » Tue May 24, 2016 9:18 pm

Nice Piter! Who sings it? It reminds me of an Arthur C Clarke story, "Out of the Cradle, Endlessly Orbiting"
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Re: Favorite Poems

Postby Piter Lauchy » Tue May 24, 2016 9:48 pm

Nikkict wrote:Nice Piter! Who sings it? It reminds me of an Arthur C Clarke story, "Out of the Cradle, Endlessly Orbiting"

Avatar's the band, New Land the song title. If you're into playful metal, you should check them out.
I don't know anything by Clarke, unfortunately. Gah, so much literature I still have to check out!

Also, today I learned... wrong thread.
  • 3

The Oatmeal wrote:Live life passionately and love everyone like they are family, because Jesus is always with you. Jesus loves you seriously bigtime. He'd hug you until your eyeballs exploded out of your skull if he ever met you. He'd windsurf across oceans of dead Nazis which he personally slaughtered just to tell you that your new haircut is the bee's knees. [...]
Praise Jesus, especially when it's sunny outside because Jesus would totally be cool with you praising while you get a nice tan.
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Re: Favorite Poems

Postby Nikkict » Tue May 24, 2016 9:53 pm

OHHH is that what the TIL thread is about?!?
If you like science fiction, I would highly recommend anything of his.
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Re: Favorite Poems

Postby Malfeasinator » Wed Jun 29, 2016 5:49 pm

jbobsully11 wrote:What are everyone's favorite poems? Epic poems, really short poems, serious poems, silly poems, love poems, hate poems, indifference poems, whatever. I took a seminar on poetry this past semester (with an awesome professor) to finish off my humanities requirements, and I found it all a lot more interesting than I ever thought it could be.

A few of my favorites:
"Introduction to Poetry" by Billy Collins, about people who over-analyze poetry
"Annabel Lee" by Edgar Allen Poe, about a woman the narrator loved
"Proverbs of Hell" by William Blake, designed to challenge commonly accepted notions of right and wrong
"Lines on the Antiquity of Microbes" by Strickland Gilliland, officially the shortest poem ever published (sometimes mis-titled "Fleas"):

Adam
Had 'em


"Introduction to Poetry" isn't about people who overanalyze poetry. It's about a poetry teacher trying to convey their love for poetry to his students. The title itself sounds like the name of a class. Billy Collins was a poetry teacher and even a Poet-Laureate. The poem brings up using the senses to figure out what a poem means, so it's not about "over" analyzing anything, and treating the poem like fun, but all the students do is try to get to the bottom of the poem's meaning as fast as possible so they can complete the assignment.

It's a bit late to bring that up, maybe, but yeah.
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Re: Favorite Poems

Postby jbobsully11 » Tue Jul 12, 2016 3:17 am

Malfeasinator wrote:"Introduction to Poetry" isn't about people who overanalyze poetry. It's about a poetry teacher trying to convey their love for poetry to his students.

Huh. I always thought it was about what English teachers do to poetry (especially some of the ones I had), compared to how poets want people to read their work. Anyway, here's a sad one I just found a few minutes ago.

"Pictures of Memory" by Alice Cary

Among the beautiful pictures
That hang on Memory’s wall,
Is one of a dim old forest,
That seemeth best of all:
Not for its gnarled oaks olden,
Dark with the mistletoe;
Not for the violets golden
That sprinkle the vale below;
Not for the milk-white lilies
That lean from the fragrant hedge,
Coqueting all day with the sunbeams,
And stealing their shining edge;
Not for the vines on the upland
Where the bright red berries be,
Nor the pinks, nor the pale, sweet cowslip,
It seemeth the best to me.

I once had a little brother,
With eyes that were dark and deep –
In the lap of that old dim forest
He lieth in peace asleep:
Light as the down of the thistle,
Free as the winds that blow,
We roved there the beautiful summers,
The summers of long ago;
But his feet on the hills grew weary,
And, one of the autumn eves,
I made for my little brother
A bed of the yellow leaves.

Sweetly his pale arms folded
My neck in a meek embrace,
As the light of immortal beauty
Silently covered his face:
And when the arrows of sunset
Lodged in the tree-tops bright,
He fell, in his saint-like beauty,
Asleep by the gates of light.
Therefore, of all the pictures
That hang on Memory’s wall,
The one of the old dim forest
Seemeth the best of all.
  • 5

Crimson847 wrote:In other words, transgender-friendly privacy laws don't molest people, people molest people.

(Presumably, the only way to stop a bad guy with a transgender-friendly privacy law is a good guy with a transgender-friendly privacy law, and thus transgender-friendly privacy law rights need to be enshrined in the Constitution as well)
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Re: Favorite Poems

Postby cmsellers » Wed Jul 13, 2016 5:50 am

I just discovered this on the Wikipedia page for acrostics. I think it's brilliant.

A Calendar Acrostic wrote:JANet was quite ill one day.
FEBrile trouble came her way.
MARtyr-like, she lay in bed;
APRoned nurses softly sped.
MAYbe, said the leech judicial
JUNket would be beneficial.
JULeps, too, though freely tried,
AUGured ill, for Janet died.
SEPulchre was sadly made.
OCTaves pealed and prayers were said.
NOVices with ma'y a tear
DECorated Janet's bier.
  • 4

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Re: Favorite Poems

Postby jbobsully11 » Tue Sep 20, 2016 4:52 am

Man Was Made To Mourn: A Dirge
by Robert Burns

When chill November's surly blast
Made fields and forests bare,
One ev'ning, as I wander'd forth
Along the banks of Ayr,
I spied a man, whose aged step
Seem'd weary, worn with care;
His face furrow'd o'er with years,
And hoary was his hair.

"Young stranger, whither wand'rest thou?"
Began the rev'rend sage;
"Does thirst of wealth thy step constrain,
Or youthful pleasure's rage?
Or haply, prest with cares and woes,
Too soon thou hast began
To wander forth, with me to mourn
The miseries of man.

"The sun that overhangs yon moors,
Out-spreading far and wide,
Where hundreds labour to support
A haughty lordling's pride;-
I've seen yon weary winter-sun
Twice forty times return;
And ev'ry time has added proofs,
That man was made to mourn.

"O man! while in thy early years,
How prodigal of time!
Mis-spending all thy precious hours-
Thy glorious, youthful prime!
Alternate follies take the sway;
Licentious passions burn;
Which tenfold force gives Nature's law.
That man was made to mourn.

"Look not alone on youthful prime,
Or manhood's active might;
Man then is useful to his kind,
Supported in his right:
But see him on the edge of life,
With cares and sorrows worn;
Then Age and Want-oh! ill-match'd pair-
Shew man was made to mourn.

"A few seem favourites of fate,
In pleasure's lap carest;
Yet, think not all the rich and great
Are likewise truly blest:
But oh! what crowds in ev'ry land,
All wretched and forlorn,
Thro' weary life this lesson learn,
That man was made to mourn.

"Many and sharp the num'rous ills
Inwoven with our frame!
More pointed still we make ourselves,
Regret, remorse, and shame!
And man, whose heav'n-erected face
The smiles of love adorn, -
Man's inhumanity to man
Makes countless thousands mourn!

"See yonder poor, o'erlabour'd wight,
So abject, mean, and vile,
Who begs a brother of the earth
To give him leave to toil;
And see his lordly fellow-worm
The poor petition spurn,
Unmindful, tho' a weeping wife
And helpless offspring mourn.

"If I'm design'd yon lordling's slave,
By Nature's law design'd,
Why was an independent wish
E'er planted in my mind?
If not, why am I subject to
His cruelty, or scorn?
Or why has man the will and pow'r
To make his fellow mourn?

"Yet, let not this too much, my son,
Disturb thy youthful breast:
This partial view of human-kind
Is surely not the last!
The poor, oppressed, honest man
Had never, sure, been born,
Had there not been some recompense
To comfort those that mourn!

"O Death! the poor man's dearest friend,
The kindest and the best!
Welcome the hour my aged limbs
Are laid with thee at rest!
The great, the wealthy fear thy blow
From pomp and pleasure torn;
But, oh! a blest relief for those
That weary-laden mourn!"
  • 2

Crimson847 wrote:In other words, transgender-friendly privacy laws don't molest people, people molest people.

(Presumably, the only way to stop a bad guy with a transgender-friendly privacy law is a good guy with a transgender-friendly privacy law, and thus transgender-friendly privacy law rights need to be enshrined in the Constitution as well)
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Re: Favorite Poems

Postby jbobsully11 » Mon Dec 26, 2016 2:53 pm

I just thought of this one, though I'm two days late:

Spoiler: show
Image
  • 3

Crimson847 wrote:In other words, transgender-friendly privacy laws don't molest people, people molest people.

(Presumably, the only way to stop a bad guy with a transgender-friendly privacy law is a good guy with a transgender-friendly privacy law, and thus transgender-friendly privacy law rights need to be enshrined in the Constitution as well)
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Re: Favorite Poems

Postby IamNotCreepy » Fri Feb 03, 2017 3:26 pm

One of my favorites is "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Robert Frost, which someone else mentioned. Here are my other favorites:

"The Tyger" by William Blake:
Spoiler: show
Tyger Tyger, 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, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & 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?

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


"And Death Shall Have No Dominion" by Dylan Thomas:
Spoiler: show
And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan't crack;
And death shall have no dominion.

And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.


"Ballad of the Goodly Fere" by Ezra Pound
[Note: Fere means companion]
Spoiler: show
Ha’ we lost the goodliest fere o’ all
For the priests and the gallows tree?
Aye lover he was of brawny men,
O’ ships and the open sea.

When they came wi’ a host to take Our Man
His smile was good to see,
“First let these go!” quo’ our Goodly Fere,
“Or I’ll see ye damned," says he.

Aye he sent us out through the crossed high spears
And the scorn of his laugh rang free,
“Why took ye not me when I walked about
Alone in the town?” says he.

Oh we drank his “Hale” in the good red wine
When we last made company,
No capon priest was the Goodly Fere
But a man o’ men was he.

I ha’ seen him drive a hundred men
Wi’ a bundle o’ cords swung free,
That they took the high and holy house
For their pawn and treasury.

They’ll no’ get him a’ in a book I think
Though they write it cunningly;
No mouse of the scrolls was the Goodly Fere
But aye loved the open sea.

If they think they ha’ snared our Goodly Fere
They are fools to the last degree.
“I’ll go to the feast," quo’ our Goodly Fere,
“Though I go to the gallows tree.”

“Ye ha’ seen me heal the lame and blind,
And wake the dead," says he,
“Ye shall see one thing to master all:
‘Tis how a brave man dies on the tree.”

A son of God was the Goodly Fere
That bade us his brothers be.
I ha’ seen him cow a thousand men.
I have seen him upon the tree.

He cried no cry when they drave the nails
And the blood gushed hot and free,
The hounds of the crimson sky gave tongue
But never a cry cried he.

I ha’ seen him cow a thousand men
On the hills o’ Galilee,
They whined as he walked out calm between,
Wi’ his eyes like the grey o’ the sea,

Like the sea that brooks no voyaging
With the winds unleashed and free,
Like the sea that he cowed at Genseret
Wi’ twey words spoke’ suddently.

A master of men was the Goodly Fere,
A mate of the wind and sea,
If they think they ha’ slain our Goodly Fere
They are fools eternally.

I ha’ seen him eat o’ the honey-comb
Sin’ they nailed him to the tree.
  • 3

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Re: Favorite Poems

Postby D-LOGAN » Sun Apr 16, 2017 12:10 am

FAST EDDY.

Fast Eddy got grabbed on a friday night,
He died on Sunday lunch,
I didn’t use much violence,
I didn’t kick or punch,
But we had some fun before he died,
Yes we had some fun,
Played a game called Knee Cap,
Knee Cap nail gun,
I had to keep Eddy fresh,
He spent five days in the fridge,
Until I could arrange his funeral,
Under West Gate Bridge,
Fast Eddy had a heap of gold,
And every ounce of it I sold,
Eddy had a heap of dash,
But not enough to keep his cash,
He made it all from selling dope,
But in the end,
He had no hope,
His mother wonders where Eddy is,
She cries and feels blue,
But don’t cry dear,
this is just a poem
And poems are rarely true.
Ha Ha.


-Mark Brandon "Chopper" Read.
  • 2

Not just yet, I'm still tender from before.
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Re: Favorite Poems

Postby cmsellers » Sat Apr 22, 2017 1:37 am

I recently discovered "The Real White Man's Burden," a 1902 parody of Kipling's most infamous poem by the American Ernest Crosby.

Ernest Crosby wrote:Take up the White Man’s burden.
Send forth your sturdy kin,
And load them down with Bibles
And cannon-balls and gin.

Throw in a few diseases
To spread the tropic climes,
For there the healthy niggers
Are quite behind the times.

And don’t forget the factories.
On those benighted shores
They have no cheerful iron mills,
Nor eke department stores.

They never work twelve hours a day
And live in strange content,
Altho they never have to pay
A single sou of rent.

Take up the White Man’s burden,
And teach the Philippines
What interest and taxes are
And what a mortgage means.

Give them electrocution chairs,
And prisons, too, galore,
And if they seem inclined to kick,
Then spill their heathen gore.

They need our labor question, too,
And politics and fraud—
We’ve made a pretty mess at home,
Let’s make a mess abroad.

And let us ever humbly pray
The Lord of Hosts may deign
To stir our feeble memories
Lest we forget—the Maine.

Take up the White’s Man’s burden.
To you who thus succeed
In civilizing savage hordes,
They owe a debt, indeed;

Concessions, pensions, salaries,
And privilege and right—
With outstretched hands you raised to bless
Grab everything in sight.

Take up the White Man’s burden
And if you write in verse,
Flatter your nation’s vices
And strive to make them worse.

Then learn that if with pious words
You ornament each phrase,
In a world of canting hypocrites
This kind of business pays.
  • 4

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