When I was in high school.......I loved writting and reading poetry!!!

here's one that I wrote a long time ago!!

If words could express
My feelings for you
How would you react
If you truly knew?

Would you laugh, would you cry
Would any emotion show
Or would you shrug it away
And just let it go?

My heart skips a beat
At the sound of your name
I try to calm down...
I try in vain

To me, you're perfect
None even come close
From the tips of your hair
To the tips of your toes

Into your eyes
I could gaze forever
None can surpass
None is better

I could say, "I love you"
But that's just a start
If only words could express
The feelings in my heart

If you have any poems that you have written....or like!!!
please post them!!!!

Back in high school, I wrote the most awful, self-indulgent crap you could imagine. I am so incredibly glad that phase didn't last too long.

As for my favorite poem, I've always been fond of "Leda's Sister and the Geese" by Katharyn Hood Machan:

All the boys always wanted her, so
it was no surprise about the swan-
man, god, whatever he was. That day

I was stuck at home, as usual, while
she got to moon around the lake
supposedly picking lilies for dye. Think I

would have let some pair of wings catch me,
bury me under the weight of the sky?
She came home whimpering, whined out

the whole story, she said was "sore afraid"
she'd got pregnant. Hunh. "Sore"
I'll bet, the size she described, and

pregnant figures: no guess who'll get
to help her with the kid or, Hera forbid,
more than one (twins run in our damned

family). "Never you mind, dear," Mother said.
"Your sister will take on your chores."
Sure. As thought I wasn't already doing

twice as many as my own. So now
I clean, I spin, I weave, I bake,
fling crusts to feed these birds I wish

to Hades every day; while she sits smug
in a wicker chair, and eats sweetmeats,
and combs and combs that ratty golden hair.

• 
  The Ancient Mariner by Samuel Coleridge, its like 8 pages long, so I'm not going to post it. XD but if anyone is interested, go google it ^__^
  

I don't know if its my favorite poem, but I like 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.

I also like Not Waving But Drowning by Smith and a few of e.e. cumming's poems, though he's definitely a bit 'out there.'

Starshine-I read that in...tenth grade. It is good! I had to look it up, but I remembered the Albatross before I did.

• 
  I like Robert Frost's poems too ^__^
  I also like Robert Browning's poems, In particular Pippa Passes
  
  

  The year's at the spring,
  And day's at the morn;
  Morning's at seven;
  The hill-side's dew-pearled;
  The lark's on the wing;
  The snail's on the thorn;
  God's in his Heaven -
  All's right with the world!

  and I totally adore Chinese poetry, I've translated a few of them, but the translation doesn't do it justice.
  

"The wasteland" and "bells II"

Um, theres some others, but I have not really read poetry in a while nor have a bothered writing in ages!

I use to write chees goth poetry, no I'm not rezing it for your amusement.

My favourite poem is a book.

The Odyssey.

The kids version it's like a regular story but the "not-dumbed-down" one is a giant poem :33

Luffs it <3

awwwww. love this thread <3

the leda poem and the robert frost one is so cool <3 and the robert browing one made me go wheeeeeeeeee <3333

Hmmm, I think this thread belongs more in the Literature forum methinks. :mrgreen:

Moving away!

I love Robert Frost in general, and I couldn't just pick one poem of his as a favorite. As a standalone poem, the one coming to mind right now is "The Builders" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

All are architects of Fate
Working in these walls of Time;
Some with massive deeds and great,
Some with ornaments of rhyme.

Nothing useless is, or low;
Each thing in its place is best;
And what seems but idle show
Strengthens and supports the rest.

For the structure that we raise,
Time is with materials filled;
Our todays and yesterdays
Are the blocks with which we build.

Truly shape and fashion these;
Leave no yawning gaps between;
Think not, because no man sees,
Such things will remain unseen.

In the elder days of Art,
Builders wrought with greatest care
Each minute and unseen part;
For the gods see everywhere.

Let us do our work as well,
Both the unseen and the seen;
Make the house where gods may dwell
Beautiful, entire, and clean.

Else our lives our incomplete,
Standing in these walls of Time,
Broken stairways, where the feet
Stumble, as they seek to climb.

Build today, then, strong and sure,
With a firm and ample base;
And ascending and secure
Shall tomorrow find its place.

Thus alone can we attain
To those turrets, where the eye
Sees the world as one vast plain,
And one boundless reach of sky.

Oh, and, Edit: The lines in my signature are from the poem "Sea Fever" by John Masefield.

And, "The Wasteland": Great imagery, sure enough, but omigosh I'll never understand it.

Here's another one that I love!! :D

When I stand up for myself and my beliefs,
they call me a bitch.


When I stand up for those I love,
they call me a bitch.


When I speak my mind,
think my own thoughts, or do things my own way,
they call me a bitch.


Being a bitch means I won't compromise what's in
my heart. It means I live my life MY way. It
means I won't allow anyone to step on me.


When I refuse to tolerate injustice and
speak against it, I am defined as a bitch.


The same thing happens when I take time for
myself instead of being everyone's maid.




It means I have the courage and strength to
allow myself to be who I truly am and won't
become anyone else's idea of what
they think I "should" be.


I am outspoken, opinionated, and determined.
I want what I want and there is
nothing wrong with that!


So try to stomp on me, try to douse my inner flame,
try to squash every ounce of beauty I hold
within me. You won't succeed. And if
that makes me a bitch, so be it.


I embrace the title and am proud to bear it !!!!

"I like 'Do not Stand at my Grave and Weep' By Mary Frye. I had to do a minor project on it in English. I loved all the hidden meanings and symbolism that I found. Short, but full of emotion it had me talking to the teacher without end about all the ideas it gave me. I like it a lot."

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.

Originally Posted by Rukia Kuchiki

"I like 'Do not Stand at my Grave and Weep' By Mary Frye. I had to do a minor project on it in English. I loved all the hidden meanings and symbolism that I found. Short, but full of emotion it had me talking to the teacher without end about all the ideas it gave me. I like it a lot."

We sang an arrangement of this poem in choir two years ago, and I loved it. The lyrics alone are powerful enough, and with the added beauty of the music it added even more dimension for me. Then again, I'm a music student.

Aurora - "It sounds like it would be extremely beautiful in music format. I find emotions are more easily expressed and felt when voiced in choirs. I love the singular voice they make and how it just sounds so clear and pretty. I really want to hear it now ..." TT^TT

My favourite poet may have to be Richard Armitage, if only because I've seen him in the flesh and he cracked us all up. His poems are spectacular as well, of course.

And Shakespeare, "Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea". That sonnet. All the sonnets, in fact.

Um. I like what I've read of Wordsworth...

I don't know much poetry. I have a really good book called "The Thunder Mutters, 101 poems for the planet".

Originally Posted by Rukia Kuchiki

Aurora - "It sounds like it would be extremely beautiful in music format. I find emotions are more easily expressed and felt when voiced in choirs. I love the singular voice they make and how it just sounds so clear and pretty. I really want to hear it now ..." TT^TT

If I find a version of it somewhere online some time soon, I'll link it so you can hear it. But I probably won't... *sniffle*

I found this poem today.. it was written by a swedish writer from the romantic age.

Kepp in mind that this poem was originally written in swedish.. it sounds and looks better in swedish but I thought you wouldnt understand if I only post the swedish version.. thats why I will post both of them!

Here is the swedish version.. I´ll post the english version when I have found it!

Förruttnelse, hasta, o älskade brud,
att bädda vårt ensliga läger!
Förskjuten av världen, förskjuten av Gud,
blott dig till förhoppning jag äger.
Fort, smycka vår kammar -- på svartklädda båren
den suckande älskarn din boning skall nå.
Fort, tillred vår brudsäng -- med nejlikor våren
skall henne beså.

Slut ömt i ditt sköte min smäktande kropp,
förkväv i ditt famntag min smärta!
I maskar lös tanken och känslorna opp,
i aska mitt brinnande hjärta.
Rik är du, o flicka! -- i hemgift du giver
den stora, den grönskande jorden åt mig.
Jag plågas häruppe, men lycklig jag bliver
därnere hos dig.

Till vällustens ljuva, förtrollande kvalm
oss svartklädda brudsvenner följa.
Vår bröllopssång ringes av klockornas malm,
och gröna gardiner oss dölja.
När stormarna ute på världshavet råda,
när fasor den blodade jorden bebo,
när fejderna rasa, vi slumra dock båda
i gyllene ro.

heres the english version:

(I)

Decay, hurry, beloved bride
to make our lonesome stead!
Rejected by World, Rejected by God
but you I entrust my hopes.
Hurry, flower our chamber's – blackish stretch
The sighing lover your dwelling shall reach.
Hurry, make our bridal sweet -- with carnation spring
will her sow.
(II)

Shut tender in your womb my languish body,
Choke with your touch my pain!
In worms thoughts and feelling dissolve,
in ashes my burning heart.
Rich are you, Girl! -- As dowry give
the vaste, the greening Earth for me.
I anguish up here, but happy will be
with you below.

I really like The Faeries by William Allingham

Up the airy mountain,
Down the rushy glen,
We daren’t go a-hunting
For fear of little men;
Wee folk, good folk,
Trooping all together;
Green jacket, red cap,
And white owl’s feather!

(that's just the first stanza)

but I think that my favorite has to be The Tiger by William Blake

TIGER, tiger, 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 and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and 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?

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

Then there is A dream Within a Dream by Edgar Allen Poe. I think though if I posted any of that my post would be a bit to long...

Sadly, I haven't really read English poetry - since I am spanish we focus on spanish or south-american authors - which is, as stated previously, very very sad.

My favourite ones are .. Miguel Hernandez, Pablo Neruda & Luis Cernuda. I am certain Neruda's been translated into English but I am unsure about the other two.

I also like Kavafis 'The City' poem a lot =)

I'll post that one here, I hope it's okay and I am not breaking any rules @@;;

--------------------

You said, "I will go to another land, I will go to another sea.
Another city will be found, better than this.
Every effort of mine is condemned by fate;
and my heart is -- like a corpse -- buried.
How long in this wasteland will my mind remain.
Wherever I turn my eyes, wherever I may look
I see the black ruins of my life here,
where I spent so many years, and ruined and wasted."

New lands you will not find, you will not find other seas.
The city will follow you. You will roam the same
streets. And you will age in the same neighborhoods;
in these same houses you will grow gray.
Always you will arrive in this city. To another land -- do not hope --
there is no ship for you, there is no road.
As you have ruined your life here
in this little corner, you have destroyed it in the whole world.

(Konstantinos Kavafis) , The City.

My favorite piece is an Anonymous work from the 6th Chinese Dynasty:

Our Little Sister is worried.
How long should she wait
To get married?
She has often seen the wind
Blow the peach petals off the trees,
She has never seen it
Blow them back on the branches.

Isn't that just beautiful? If you take the time to read through it and analyze the elements, you'll find more in there than you would imagine at first glance.

Amelie ~ I love Tiger Tiger! (Another poem I've sung...) William Blake is another favorite poet of mine.

One of my favorites, another that I've sung, is "Infant Joy."

"I have no name;
I am but two days old."
What shall I call thee?
"I happy am,
Joy is my name."
Sweet joy befall thee!

Pretty joy!
Sweet joy, but two days old.
Sweet Joy I call thee:
Thou dost smile,
I sing the while;
Sweet joy befall thee!

Originally Posted by AuroraBoreas

Amelie ~ I love Tiger Tiger! (Another poem I've sung...) William Blake is another favorite poet of mine.

Wow, I think I sang that in middle school. I had completely forgotten about it until now.

I wrote this poem just a few days ago!! just thought I should share it!

What More Can I Say


The wish that won't come true,
the song that won't be sung,
the words that won't be spoken-
over, before we've begun.
The feelings we can't express,
the laughs we can't share,
the facts I can't tell you
of just how much I care.

Your lips, I'll never kiss,
your warmth, I'll never know,
holding you close, holding you tight
and never letting go.
Saying, "good morning," as you wake,
watching you in a peaceful sleep,
the way I feel, the love I have
but it's all just a secret I keep.

Your beautiful eyes, the glances exchanged,
the silence or talking all night;
our shared love of music or an old flick,
how you and me feel so 'right.'
Sitting beside you, longing for your touch,
or missing you more everyday.
Spewing my words like a raging volcano,
till I no longer know what to say.

One of my favourite poems is from Alfred Tennyson (I love a lot of him), because it impressed me so much somehow. It is not well-known, for it is one of his supressed works...

=Song=

I

I' the glooming light
Of middle night,
So cold and white,
Worn Sorrow sits by the moaning wave;
Beside her are laid,
Her mattock and spade,
For she hath half delved her own deep grave.
Alone she is there:
The white clouds drizzle: her hair falls loose;
Her shoulders are bare;
Her tears are mixed with the bearded dews.

II

Death standeth by;
She will not die;
With glazèd eye
She looks at her grave: she cannot sleep;
Ever alone
She maketh her moan:
She cannot speak; she can only weep;
For she will not hope.
The thick snow falls on her flake by flake,
The dull wave mourns down the slope,
The world will not change, and her heart will not break.