Do you have a favorite poem? (long post alert)

[browneyes]

Here's mine:


She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that 's best of dark and bright
Meet 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.

 

[WebmasterMaryJo]

<font color=navy>I never forgot this one.... simple, yet eloquent

Por una mirada ....... un mundo
Por una sonrisa ...... un cielo
Por un beso ............ yo no sé .
... que te diera .... por un beso

 

[Judy from Boise]

I love poems, here is one of my faves

Selected Poems of W.H. 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 crêpe 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.

 

[DISJAZZ]

Anything by Robert Frost.
"Nothing gold can stay."
The only poet I know who can make me hear an "understood" sigh.
"And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep."
I swear I hear a sigh every time after that first "sleep".
Great thread.

 

[ibouncetoo]

My favorite is "Ode to Spot" by Data.
It starts out:

Felis catus, is your taxanomic nomenclature
an endothornic quadraped
carnivorous by nature?

I can't type out the whole thing right now, as I'd have to look up the spelling of every other word! And it's bedtime!

 

[Pop Daddy]

I hate this thread

 

[Disney845]

On a Faded Violet by Shelley

The odour from the flower is gone
Which like thy kisses breathed on me;
The colour from the flower is flown
Which glowed of thee and only thee!

A shrivelled, lifeless, vacant form,
It lies on my abandoned breast;
And mocks the heart, which yet is warm
With cold and silent rest.

I weep --- my tears revive it not;
I sigh --- it breathes no more on me:
Its mute and uncomplaining lot
Is such as mine should be.

 

[battricia]

I also like robert frost, nothing gold can stay

Nature's first green is gold;
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour;
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to greif,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

_____________
tricia.

 

[browneyes]

Originally posted by Pop Daddy
I hate this thread

You're welcome.

"To sleep, perchance to dream"

Colorful black and white visage
Tremendous urges and fears all revealed
Peaceful war between slumber and adventure
Many an image our minds have sealed

We think the unthinkable
We know every stranger
We go where we've dreamt of before
And tremendous shock and horror and love
All intertwine, our emotional *

So where to go tonight? We sometimes may ask
"I hope I go back to THAT place....
The last time I was there, I became overjoyed....
I know, because I could see my own face!"

Time doesn't pass... time does pass
Reality is here, but it is inside our minds
They both join and leave our journey
which began the moment we closed our blinds

Prophecies, wonder, understanding we can't remember
And when we awake, the questions arise
As the fog clears, familiarity dusts itself off
Were we even asleep? Did we even close our eyes?

 

[perdidobay]

ROAD LESS TRAVELED

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

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

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 onto way
I doubted if I should ever come back

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


Robert Frost

 

[alabamaalan]

There was a young lady from...


Oh, never mind...

 

[DemonLlama]

God's Lent Child

I'll lend you for a little while
A child of mine, God said.
For you to love the while he lives
And mourn for when he's dead.

It may be six or seven years
or forty-two or three.
But, will you, 'til I call him back,
Take care of him for me?

He'll bring his charms to gladden you
And should his stay be brief,
You'll have his lovely memories
As a solace for your greif.

I can not promise he will stay
Since all from Earth returns,
But there are lessons taught below,
I want this child to learn.

I've looked the whole world over
In my search for teacher's true.
And from the things that crowd life's lane,
I have chosen you.

Now will you give him all your love?
Nor think the labor vain?
Nor hate me when I come to take
This lent child back again?

I fancied that I heard them say
Dear Lord, thy will be done.
For all the joys thy child will bring
The risk of grief we'll run.

We will shelter him with tenderness,
We'll love him while we may.
And for all the happiness we have known
Forever grateful stay.

But should thy angel call for him,
Much sooner than we planned
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes
And try to understand.

Author Unknown

 

[delikado]

You who never arrived
by Ranier Maria Rilke


You who never arrived
in my arms, Beloved, who were lost
from the start,
I don't even know what songs
would please you. I have given up trying
to recognize you in the surging wave of the next
moment. All the immense
images in me- the far-off, deeply-felt landscape,
cities, towers, and bridges, and unsuspected
turns in the path,
and those powerful lands that were once
pulsing with the life of the gods-
all rise within me to mean
you, who forever elude me.

You, Beloved, who are all
the gardens I have ever gazed at,
longing. An open window
in a country house-, and you almost
stepped out, pensive, to meet me.
Streets that I chanced upon,-
you had just walked down them and vanished.
And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors
were still dizzy with your presence and, startled,
gave back my too-sudden image. Who knows?
perhaps the same bird echoed through both of us
yesterday, seperate, in the evening...


Translated by Stephen Mitchell

 

[KristaTX]

Why this poem? Aside from the beauty and the way it flows, I love this poem because for me it paints a picture of all the people in my life who love me and who I love (many of you here on the DIS included)

William Wordsworth:

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

 

[Feralpeg]

The following is my favorite. It was written by my 15 year old DD and recently published in a book called "The Colors of Life". It is a collection of poetry offered by The International Library of Poetry. It is also going to be published in a book in the UK by Noble House Publishing.

Red is the rose given
With the hopes of a kiss
Red is the heart on a valentine
For your dearest friend

Red is the stocking that hangs
From the mantle in hopes that
Santa will arrive soon

Red is the giant shiny cherry that
Sits on top of a giant ice cream sundae

Red are the leaves that
Drift in the wind in the fall
Red is the color of a
Young girl's first blush

Needless to say, I'm a little biased toward this poet!

 

[Pooh67_68]

Actually about ten years ago my sister had six poems published so I am partial to her work.

 

[Keli]

I was doing a search to find this poem because it's my favorite and my dd Ashli walked up just as it came up on the screen. She looked at it and said "Oh, I love that poem!". So I guess you could say it's one of her favorites too.


Oh Captain! My Captain!

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,
The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.


O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You've fallen cold and dead.


My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

Walt Whitman (1819-1892)

 

[lisajl]

This one always makes me smile...I can see an older gentleman remembering his youth...

Jenny kissed me when we met
jumping from the chair she sat in
Time, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your book, put that in.

Say I'm weary, say I'm sad,
Say that health and wealth have missed me
Say I'm growing old, but add
Jenny kissed me.

Leigh Hunt
1784-1859

 

[Grumpylittlesis]

I've always liked The Rubiyat of Omar Khayyam. It's too long to quote entirely here, but this is one of my favorite verses.

A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness--
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!

 

[catsrule]

The End of the Raven
A poem by Edgar Allen Poe's Cat

On a night quite unenchanting,
when the rain was downward slanting,
I awakened to the ranting
of the man I catch mice for.
Tipsy and a bit unshaven,
in a tone I found quite craven,
Poe was talking to a Raven
perched above the chamber door.
"Raven's very tasty," thought I,
as I tiptoed o'er the floor,
"There is nothing I like more"
Soft upon the rug I treaded,
calm and careful as I headed
Towards his roost atop that dreaded
bust of Pallas I deplore.
While the bard and birdie chattered,
I made sure that nothing clattered,
Creaked, or snapped, or fell, or shattered,
as I crossed the corridor;
For his house is crammed with trinkets,
curious and wierd decor -
Bric-a-brac and junk galore.

Still the Raven never fluttered,
standing stock-still as he uttered,
In a voice that shrieked and sputtered,
his two cents' worth - "Nevermore."
While this dirge the birdbrain kept up,
oh, so silently I crept up,
Then I crouched and quickly leapt up,
pouncing on the feathered bore.
Soon he was a heap of plumage,
and a little blood and gore -
Only this and not much more.

"Oooo!" my pickled poet cried out,
"Pussycat, it's time I dried out!
Never sat I in my hideout
talking to a bird before;
How I've wallowed in self-pity,
while my gallant, valiant kitty
Put and end to that damned ditty" -
then I heard him start to snore.
Back atop the door I clambered,
eyed that statue I abhor,
Jumped - and smashed it on the floor.