Your favorite poem

[Ben_n_austin]

I'm not accusing you guys, but I'm nerdy. So I felt like sharing my favorite poem in the hopes of influencing you guys to share yours. I love literature and have read much poetry, but my favorite one is written by Rudyard Kipling titled If.

I found a youtube clip with Dennis Hopper reciting the poem... If you hate literature or poetry, please do not respond. If you have something to share, please do.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3AJqESdw7xs

Rudyard Kipling's If :

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

--Rudyard Kipling

 

[Hostile]

"If" is one of my favorites. I have it memorized along with several others. Some I can name the authors. Some I can't. As an English Major I have many. I also like...

"Rime of the Ancient Mariner," by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Iron Maiden does a fascinating version of this poem.

"The Raven," by Edgar Allen Poe. Orsen Wells recited this poem on TV one time, and I was mesmerized.

"Gunga Din," by Rudyard Kipling.

"The Road Not Taken," by Robert Frost.

Some of my favorite poets are W. H. Auden, Robert Frost, Edgar Guest, Pablo Neruda, Rudyard Kipling, and Samuel. T. Coleridge. If I had to pick a personal favorite it is probably Edgar Guest. Frost would be a very close second.

As far as poem that I like to share, this is one of me favorites. Good Timber by Douglas Malloch.

Good Timber

The tree that never had to fight
For sun and sky and air and light,
But stood out in the open plain
And always got its share of rain,
Never became a forest king
But lived and died a scrubby thing.

The man who never had to toil
To gain and farm his patch of soil,
Who never had to win his share
Of sun and sky and light and air,
Never became a manly man
But lived and died as he began.

Good timber does not grow with ease:
The stronger wind, the stronger trees;
The further sky, the greater length;
The more the storm, the more the strength.
By sun and cold, by rain and snow,
In trees and men good timbers grow.

Where thickest lies the forest growth,
We find the patriarchs of both.
And they hold counsel with the stars
Whose broken branches show the scars
Of many winds and much of strife.
This is the common law of life.

 

[Ben_n_austin]

"If" is one of my favorites. As an English Major I have many. I also like...

"Rime of the Ancient Mariner," by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Iron Maiden does a fascinating version of this poem.

"The Raven," by Edgar Allen Poe. Orsen Wells recited this poem on TV one time, and I was mesmerized.

"Gunga Din," by Rudyard Kipling.

"The Road Not Taken," by Robert Frost.

Some of my favorite poets are W. H. Auden, Robert Frost, Edgar Guest, Pablo Neruda, Rudyard Kipling, and Samuel. T. Coleridge. If I had to pick a personal favorite it is probably Edgar Guest.

I, too, like The Road Not Taken by Frost. You should post the others. Here is another Frost poem I like....


The Courage To Be New

I hear the world reciting
The mistakes of ancient men,
The brutality and fighting
They will never have again

Heartbroken and disabled
In body and in mind,
They renew talk of the fabled
Federation of Mankind

But they're blessed with the acumen
To suspect the human trait
Was not the basest human
That made them militate

They will tell you more as soon as
You tell them what to do
With their ever breaking newness
And their courage to be new


Beyond Words
That row of icicles along the gutter
Feels ike my armory of hate;
And you, you . . . you, you utter. . . .
You wait!

 

[Hostile]

"Courage to Be New" is one of Frost's that I do like. I also like "Nothing Gold Can Stay."

An Irish Airman Forsees His Death

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above
Those I fight I do not hate
Those 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
No law, nor duty bade me fight
No public man, nor cheering crowds
A lonely impulse of delight
Led to this tumult in the clouds
I balanced all, borught 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.


William Butler Yeats
​

 

[Ben_n_austin]

Care and Feeding by Billy Collins

Care and Feeding

Because I will turn 420 tomorrow
in dog years
I will take myself for a long walk
along the green shore of the lake,

and when I walk in the door,
I will jump up on my chest
and lick my nose and ears and eyelids
while I tell myself again to get down.

I will fill my metal bowl at the sink
with cold fresh water,
and lift a biscuit from the jar
and hold it gingerly with my teeth.

Then I will make three circles
and lie down at my feet on the wood floor
and close my eyes
while I type all morning and into the afternoon,

checking every once in a while
to make sure I am still there,
reaching down
to stroke my furry, vulnerable head.




The Heart by Stephen Crane (1871-1900)

The Heart

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.

I said, "Is it good, friend"?
"It is bitter--bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart"


And, finally, another Frost poem... I love this one.

Mending Wall
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun,
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors'.
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows?
But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me~
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbors."

 

[Yeagermeister]

Behold the duck
He doesn't not cluck
A cluck it lacks it quacks


That's all I can remember from 10th grade English :

 

[Ben_n_austin]

Behold the duck
He doesn't not cluck
A cluck it lacks it quacks


That's all I can remember from 10th grade English :

I like it.

 

[Doomsday101]

There once was a man from Nantucket whose... well you get the drift. :laugh2:

 

[Ben_n_austin]

Dust in the Wind by Kansas

Dust in the Wind

I close my eyes
only for a moment
and the moment's gone
all my dreams
pass before my eyes a curiosity
dust in the wind
all we are is dust in the wind

Same old song
just a drop of water
in the endless sea
all we do
crumbles to the ground
though we refuse to see
dust in the wind
all we are is dust in the wind

Now, don't hang on
nothing last forever
but the earth and sky
it slips away

And all your money
won't another minute buy

Dust in the wind
all we are is dust in the wind
dust in the wind
everything is dust in the wind

 

[Hostile]

The Road Not Taken

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 on to 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-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.


Nothing Gold Can Stay (This is the poem quoted by Ponyboy in S. E. Hinton's The Oustiders)

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 grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

 

[Ben_n_austin]

The Road Not Taken

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 on to 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-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.


Nothing Gold Can Stay (This is the poem quoted by Ponyboy in S. E. Hinton's The Oustiders)

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 grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

...cold poem by Hinton.

I love that poem by Frost. He was torn about what to do, or which road to tak, with his life and he became a poet.... Of course, you know this. But it's still an awesome poem. I could post many many, but that'd be hijacking my own thread and would probably be annoying. Thanks for contributing, though.

I'm waiting for DW and a few others I expect might have something non-prose like.


Not to sound like an axe, but I'm ready for some cuts? You?

 

[Bonecrusher#31]

Roses are Red...

Violets are Blue...


Commander Fans blow...


Oh this is so true.....

 

[WoodysGirl]

Still I Rise


You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Maya Angelou


Phenomenal Woman


Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Maya Angelou

 

[Ben_n_austin]

If I were a football fan, I'd be a Giant
I'd run the ball like a dangerous tyrant
Nothing would stop my quarterback, Romo
He'd make light work of those silly arse hobos

I'd step on the Redkins, and a feather in their hat
I'd tip them my hat as they whined about that
It wasn't nice of me, to step on your feather
But we'll beat your team in any old weather

Like the Eagles swarming around like footballs in the sky
I'd take away your pass by watching your eyes
I'd run down the field in the opposite direction
As you look at my quarterback's girlfriend with a bleeding.... *direction

The Giant I am would shrink down and shrivel
And morph into a Cowboy, the size of a thimble
But we will be quick and we would be nimble
Our Super Bowl victory will be something remembered

BnA

 

[Hostile]

I'm tempted to share one that I wrote in college that I got some kudos for. I no longer have it memorized so I'd have to find it when I get home. It was for an assignment to write a Shakesperean style sonnet in iambic pentameter.

 

[theebs]

It’s easy to grin / When your ship comes in / And you’ve got the stock market beat. / But the man worthwhile, / Is the man who can smile, / When his shorts are too tight in the seat.

 

[Ben_n_austin]

Moderation
In things a moderation keep,
Kings out to shear, not skin their sheep.



TELL ALL THE TRUTH BUT
TELL IT SLANT

Tell all the truth but tell it slant -
Success in Circuit lies
Too bright for our infirm Delight
The Truth's superb surprise
As Lightning to the Children eased
With explanation kind
The Truth must dazzle gradually
Or every man be blind -

Emily Dickenson

 

[Ben_n_austin]

It’s easy to grin / When your ship comes in / And you’ve got the stock market beat. / But the man worthwhile, / Is the man who can smile, / When his shorts are too tight in the seat.

:laugh2:

 

[Ben_n_austin]

I'm tempted to share one that I wrote in college that I got some kudos for. I no longer have it memorized so I'd have to find it when I get home. It was for an assignment to write a Shakesperean style sonnet in iambic pentameter.

Share with the nerds. :chainsaw:

 

[LittleBoyBlue]

See Dlck run. Run Dlck run
See Dlck run. Run Dlck . Run, run, run.
Look, look, look. See, see, see.
See Dlck run. Run, run, run