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Whats Your Fav Poems/Poets?

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Last post 05/03/2011

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      Self Explanetory Again Make Sure There Your Favorite!!!!!!! I Don't Need A Bunch Of Oh I Like This Poet And I Like That Poem But I'd Rather Hear One/My Fav Pems Is/Are....... Or One/My Fav Poets Is/Are.......So Please Keep That In Mind You Don't Have To Say Exactly That But You Get It So Please Comment You Can Make A List Or Whatever You Wish Or Desire So Here Is The Thread Dedicated To All Poem Lovers/Readers/Listeners Mine Are:
      Robert Frost-Like Every Poem He's Ever Made
      Emily Dickenson-Same Deal
      So Start Thinkin And Writing Them Down Because I Know You Have Favorites And You Want To share Them And They Can Be Friends/Familys/Your Own So Start Thinkin Sorry It's Long To I Like To Make Things Clear And Understandable
      Everybody's Friend,
      Paulmusic

        Hey Paulmusic,

        I wish people would answer this one... I really haven't read much poetry at all, so I don't have a favorite poet...sorry... I would like to know some good ones, so I am going to check out your suggestions...

        About a month ago, someone told me about Pablo Neruda, so he is the only poet who's poems I've read... I can't compare them to any others. I tried a few like his...

        I have tried to write a bit in the style of some of the people here on beginnings and endings, for example, I tried to write a bit like Jason Luis Rivera on a couple of poems...

        Then there was Wilhamina who probably got me started because I liked her poems so much... and of course Crossover Genius and Angry Ninja, Kiriwana and Hey_Kittay are the regulars that I always enjoy...

        I then listened to a song from Jason Myraz which I liked and I wrote a few to him and also wrote a few from listening to a song I like from Robbie Williams

        I see Maccalindandme has had some really nice poems here also...

        I hope someone else gives me some ideas here...

          I love Shakespeare's sonnets! But there is one sonnet in particular that I just love!
          I wrote a verse or two here once.. but I can't remember which sonnet it was.
          I'll look it up right now

            Aha! I found it!
            I especially love Sonnet 18! "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
            Thou art more lovely and more temperate:"

            The first verse to the sonnet.
            The whole sonnet is all so lovely and romantic.

              That is absolutely breathtaking...xxlovemccartneyxx I didn't know about this... do you recommend any others?

                Shakespeares sonnets are great!

                One of my fav. poets is William Butler Yeats.

                here is one poem I like alot, "The Secret Rose."

                http://www.onlineliterature.com/donne/806

                he has so many more though...I'll try to find more.

                oh, here is "Rosa alchemica."

                http://www.readbookonline.net/readOnLine/2114/

                oh, and I just found an area just for him:

                http://www.poetry-archive.com/y/yeats_w_b.html

                  Wow, these are really wonderful... It would be so hard to write in that older style of talking now days. I really enjoyed them all so far!!! This is a good thread...

                    Walt Whitman, one of the greatest poets of his time.

                      xxlovemccartneyxx:Walt Whitman, one of the greatest poets of his time.

                      Oh xxlovemccartneyxx... thank you for letting me know about this poet... One of the first few I clicked on:

                      On the Beach at Night
                      http://www.poetry-archive.com/w/on_the_beach_at_night.html

                      Brought me right back to a child with my father... he loved the night sky and sitting on the porch watching storms... this one made me cry

                      Thank you for sharing Walt Whitman

                        love2travel:

                        xxlovemccartneyxx:Walt Whitman, one of the greatest poets of his time.

                        Oh xxlovemccartneyxx... thank you for letting me know about this poet... One of the first few I clicked on:

                        On the Beach at Night
                        http://www.poetry-archive.com/w/on_the_beach_at_night.html

                        Brought me right back to a child with my father... he loved the night sky and sitting on the porch watching storms... this one made me cry

                        Thank you for sharing Walt Whitman

                        Oh, I really loved that poem. It made me feel hopeful.

                          I really am just starting to read poetry...
                          Here's a couple that I like by Pablo Neruda

                          Your Laughter

                          Take bread away from me, if you wish,
                          take air away, but
                          do not take from me your laughter.

                          Do not take away the rose,
                          the lance flower that you pluck,
                          the water that suddenly
                          bursts forth in joy,
                          the sudden wave
                          of silver born in you.

                          My struggle is harsh and I come back
                          with eyes tired
                          at times from having seen
                          the unchanging earth,
                          but when your laughter enters
                          it rises to the sky seeking me
                          and it opens for me all
                          the doors of life.

                          My love, in the darkest
                          hour your laughter
                          opens, and if suddenly
                          you see my blood staining
                          the stones of the street,
                          laugh, because your laughter
                          will be for my hands
                          like a fresh sword.

                          Next to the sea in the autumn,
                          your laughter must raise
                          its foamy cascade,
                          and in the spring, love,
                          I want your laughter like
                          the flower I was waiting for,
                          the blue flower, the rose
                          of my echoing country.

                          Laugh at the night,
                          at the day, at the moon,
                          laugh at the twisted
                          streets of the island,
                          laugh at this clumsy
                          boy who loves you,
                          but when I open
                          my eyes and close them,
                          when my steps go,
                          when my steps return,
                          deny me bread, air,
                          light, spring,
                          but never your laughter
                          for I would die.

                          Pablo Neruda
                          Love, we're going home now

                          Love, we're going home now,
                          Where the vines clamber over the trellis:
                          Even before you, the summer will arrive,
                          On its honeysuckle feet, in your bedroom.

                          Our nomadic kisses wandered over all the world:
                          Armenia, dollop of disinterred honey:
                          Ceylon, green dove: and the YangTse with its old
                          Old patience, dividing the day from the night.

                          And now, dearest, we return, across the crackling sea
                          Like two blind birds to their wall,
                          To their nest in a distant spring:

                          Because love cannot always fly without resting,
                          Our lives return to the wall, to the rocks of the sea:
                          Our kisses head back home where they belong.

                          Pablo Neruda

                          There is something very Spanish that I love about this one...
                          La Reina (The Queen)

                          I have named you queen.
                          There are taller than you, taller.
                          There are purer than you, purer.
                          There are lovelier than you, lovelier.
                          But you are the queen.

                          When you go through the streets
                          No one recognizes you.
                          No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks
                          At the carpet of red gold
                          That you tread as you pass,
                          The nonexistent carpet.

                          And when you appear
                          All the rivers sound
                          In my body, bells
                          Shake the sky,
                          And a hymn fills the world.

                          Only you and I,
                          Only you and I, my love,
                          Listen to me.

                          Pablo Neruda

                            William Blake
                            Arthur Rimbaud
                            Charles Baudeliere
                            Jack Kerouac
                            Walt Whitman
                            Emily Dickinson
                            Sylvia Plath
                            Allen Ginsberg
                            Charles Bukowski
                            Lord Byron
                            Oscar Wilde
                            Edgar Allan Poe

                            You could go on all day really...

                              love2travel:I really am just starting to read poetry...
                              Here's a couple that I like by Pablo Neruda

                              Your Laughter

                              Take bread away from me, if you wish,
                              take air away, but
                              do not take from me your laughter.

                              Do not take away the rose,
                              the lance flower that you pluck,
                              the water that suddenly
                              bursts forth in joy,
                              the sudden wave
                              of silver born in you.

                              My struggle is harsh and I come back
                              with eyes tired
                              at times from having seen
                              the unchanging earth,
                              but when your laughter enters
                              it rises to the sky seeking me
                              and it opens for me all
                              the doors of life.

                              My love, in the darkest
                              hour your laughter
                              opens, and if suddenly
                              you see my blood staining
                              the stones of the street,
                              laugh, because your laughter
                              will be for my hands
                              like a fresh sword.

                              Next to the sea in the autumn,
                              your laughter must raise
                              its foamy cascade,
                              and in the spring, love,
                              I want your laughter like
                              the flower I was waiting for,
                              the blue flower, the rose
                              of my echoing country.

                              Laugh at the night,
                              at the day, at the moon,
                              laugh at the twisted
                              streets of the island,
                              laugh at this clumsy
                              boy who loves you,
                              but when I open
                              my eyes and close them,
                              when my steps go,
                              when my steps return,
                              deny me bread, air,
                              light, spring,
                              but never your laughter
                              for I would die.

                              Pablo Neruda
                              Love, we're going home now

                              Love, we're going home now,
                              Where the vines clamber over the trellis:
                              Even before you, the summer will arrive,
                              On its honeysuckle feet, in your bedroom.

                              Our nomadic kisses wandered over all the world:
                              Armenia, dollop of disinterred honey:
                              Ceylon, green dove: and the YangTse with its old
                              Old patience, dividing the day from the night.

                              And now, dearest, we return, across the crackling sea
                              Like two blind birds to their wall,
                              To their nest in a distant spring:

                              Because love cannot always fly without resting,
                              Our lives return to the wall, to the rocks of the sea:
                              Our kisses head back home where they belong.

                              Pablo Neruda

                              There is something very Spanish that I love about this one...
                              La Reina (The Queen)

                              I have named you queen.
                              There are taller than you, taller.
                              There are purer than you, purer.
                              There are lovelier than you, lovelier.
                              But you are the queen.

                              When you go through the streets
                              No one recognizes you.
                              No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks
                              At the carpet of red gold
                              That you tread as you pass,
                              The nonexistent carpet.

                              And when you appear
                              All the rivers sound
                              In my body, bells
                              Shake the sky,
                              And a hymn fills the world.

                              Only you and I,
                              Only you and I, my love,
                              Listen to me.

                              Pablo Neruda

                              Really enjoyed those L2T. I have never read Pablo Neruda, till now.

                                Don't you know
                                it's your time to grow
                                aren't you inclined
                                2c Paul Mccartney
                                with the finest of lines.

                                  Definitely a Shakespeare hound, here; I started reading the Bard when I was quite small, and it's a taste I've kept through the years.

                                  I also enjoy reading new poets, people who arrive without fanfare but whose gift with words is magical. That's why I belong to poetry.com!

                                    W.B. Yeats and W.H. Auden are two of my favourite poets.

                                      Check out poets Paul knows or knew: Ginsberg, Michael Horowitz, Adrian Mitchell, Roger McGough, Donovan P. Leitch and of course he loves Bob Dylan.

                                        OMG I love Michael He is a AWESOME and I mean AWESOME poet!!!!!!!!And writer in general!!!!!!!!!!

                                          John Donne's "The Triple Fool": He states he is a fool once for loving a woman, a fool twice because he has written a poem about her, yet the love is unrequited. And thrice because someone has then taken his verse and put it to song and shared it with others, thus making his feelings known all over, yet helping people at the same time. (my analysis)
                                          John Donne thought wise men believed themselves to be Fools. I agree.

                                          http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/donne/triplefool.php

                                            hey_kittay - Perhaps only the fool who fears his love is fruitless knows love in its full glory (to quote yet another McCartney tune).

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