Favorite poem

paranoid marvin

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I do like the WWI poets (my favourite being Sassoon), with my favourite poem being 'The General', on which I devised a poem of my own for the 75 word Challenge a few years back.

I also like nonsense poems like those by Lewis Carroll; 'You are old Father William' does amuse me'

But my all time favourite poet is William Blake and in particular his poem 'The Clod and the Pebble'.
 

Ray Zdybrow

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James Tiptree Jr's brilliant story "And I Awoke And Found Me Here On The Cold Hill's Side" pointed me to John Keats' "La Belle Dame Sans Merci" - if you haven't read both, do!
Meditations on addiction, and sexual fascination and "othering"
 

BigBadBob141

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Not much for poetry.
However I do enjoy "The Owl And The Pussy Cat" and "You Are Old Father William", both by Lewis Carroll, not to mention his "Jabberwocky" which is a work of genius!
Plus his:
Speak harshly to your little boy,
And beat him when he sneezes,
He only does it to annoy,
Because he knows it teases!

A also I love "Sea Fever" and "Cargos" both by John Masefield.
But the one I like the most is the following by Spike Milligan:

English teeth, English teeth,
Glinting in the sun,
Part of our British heritage,
Aye each and every one.

English teeth, happy teeth,
Always having fun,
Chomping down on roast beef,
And sausages half done.

English teeth, noble teeth,
Hear them click and clack,
Let's sing in praise of English teeth,
Three cheers for the brown, grey and black!

This should be hung up in every dental surgery.
P.S. GT yes "Ozymandias" is pretty damned good!
 
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Bick

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I like Ozymandias, and I like The Second Coming, and I enjoy Betjeman too, for instance Westminster Abbey.

but if I’m to pick one, as I’ve always had a soft spot for Blake, I’ll go with London.


I wander thro' each charter'd street,
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow.
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every Man,
In every Infants cry of fear,
In every voice: in every ban,
The mind-forg'd manacles I hear

How the Chimney-sweepers cry
Every blackning Church appalls,
And the hapless Soldiers sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls

But most thro' midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlots curse
Blasts the new-born Infants tear
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse
 
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Randy M.

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Ala Victoria: Favorite short poem is "Ozymandias" by Shelley, though, like Bick, Yeat's "The Second Coming" is also a favorite.

Long poem: "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" by Samuel Coleridge.

There are others that I might offer on another day, including Yeats' "Easter 1916," Frost's "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening," Dylan Thomas' "Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night" and

My Papa’s Waltz​


By Theodore Roethke

The whiskey on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.

We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother’s countenance
Could not unfrown itself.

The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.

You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.
 

BigBadBob141

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REF: Bick.
Very cheerful, you should try "The Song Of The Shirt", sorry, can't remember who wrote it!
If you like "The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner" you should listen to the Iron Maiden version of this, it's on their "Power Slaves" album, it's very, very good!
P.S. Another poem I like which I've mentioned before is "Tommy Atkins" by the great Rudyard Kipling, plus of course his "Gunga Din" which now days is probably seen as being not PC but what the hell, it's a great poem!
 
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paranoid marvin

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Much of Shakespeare's plays can be read as poetry. Not only for the rhyming couplets, but also the rhythmic timing of the dialogue. The same could be said of many songs as well; this comes across well with many of William Shatner's covers.
 

JunkMonkey

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I'm too am not great poetry reader but there are a few that just love to bits:


-----------------------------------------------
Cargoes by John Masefield

Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,
With a cargo of ivory,
And apes and peacocks,
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.

Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,
With a cargo of diamonds,
Emeralds, amythysts,
Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores.

Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,
Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo of Tyne coal,
Road-rails, pig-lead,
Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.

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

BigBadBob141

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Love the bit about the dirty British coaster, the cheap tin trays, and butting through the channel in the mad March days, absolute genius, the whole poem is a true work of art!
P.S. There is a line from the song "Comfortably Numb" from Pink Floyd's The Wall album, it's part of a description of having a childhood fever, it goes:
"A distant ships smoke on the horizon".
Now to me as a lover of nautical history I find that this line is just so poetic!
 
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Randy M.

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I'm slapping my forehead. I forgot Christina Rossetti's "Goblin Market," which is beautiful and mysterious and something you can read and reread time and again.
 

tobl

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Auguries of Innocence​

BY WILLIAM BLAKE
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour
A Robin Red breast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage
A Dove house filld with Doves & Pigeons
Shudders Hell thr' all its regions
A dog starvd at his Masters Gate
Predicts the ruin of the State
A Horse misusd upon the Road
Calls to Heaven for Human blood
Each outcry of the hunted Hare
A fibre from the Brain does tear
A Skylark wounded in the wing
A Cherubim does cease to sing
The Game Cock clipd & armd for fight
Does the Rising Sun affright
Every Wolfs & Lions howl
Raises from Hell a Human Soul
The wild deer, wandring here & there
Keeps the Human Soul from Care
The Lamb misusd breeds Public Strife
And yet forgives the Butchers knife
The Bat that flits at close of Eve
Has left the Brain that wont Believe
The Owl that calls upon the Night
Speaks the Unbelievers fright
He who shall hurt the little Wren
Shall never be belovd by Men
He who the Ox to wrath has movd
Shall never be by Woman lovd
The wanton Boy that kills the Fly
Shall feel the Spiders enmity
He who torments the Chafers Sprite
Weaves a Bower in endless Night
The Catterpiller on the Leaf
Repeats to thee thy Mothers grief
Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly
For the Last Judgment draweth nigh
He who shall train the Horse to War
Shall never pass the Polar Bar
The Beggars Dog & Widows Cat
Feed them & thou wilt grow fat
The Gnat that sings his Summers Song
Poison gets from Slanders tongue
The poison of the Snake & Newt
Is the sweat of Envys Foot
The poison of the Honey Bee
Is the Artists Jealousy
The Princes Robes & Beggars Rags
Are Toadstools on the Misers Bags
A Truth thats told with bad intent
Beats all the Lies you can invent
It is right it should be so
Man was made for Joy & Woe
And when this we rightly know
Thro the World we safely go
Joy & Woe are woven fine
A Clothing for the soul divine
Under every grief & pine
Runs a joy with silken twine
The Babe is more than swadling Bands
Throughout all these Human Lands
Tools were made & Born were hands
Every Farmer Understands
Every Tear from Every Eye
Becomes a Babe in Eternity
This is caught by Females bright
And returnd to its own delight
The Bleat the Bark Bellow & Roar
Are Waves that Beat on Heavens Shore
The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath
Writes Revenge in realms of Death
The Beggars Rags fluttering in Air
Does to Rags the Heavens tear
The Soldier armd with Sword & Gun
Palsied strikes the Summers Sun
The poor Mans Farthing is worth more
Than all the Gold on Africs Shore
One Mite wrung from the Labrers hands
Shall buy & sell the Misers Lands
Or if protected from on high
Does that whole Nation sell & buy
He who mocks the Infants Faith
Shall be mockd in Age & Death
He who shall teach the Child to Doubt
The rotting Grave shall neer get out
He who respects the Infants faith
Triumphs over Hell & Death
The Childs Toys & the Old Mans Reasons
Are the Fruits of the Two seasons
The Questioner who sits so sly
Shall never know how to Reply
He who replies to words of Doubt
Doth put the Light of Knowledge out
The Strongest Poison ever known
Came from Caesars Laurel Crown
Nought can Deform the Human Race
Like to the Armours iron brace
When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow
To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow
A Riddle or the Crickets Cry
Is to Doubt a fit Reply
The Emmets Inch & Eagles Mile
Make Lame Philosophy to smile
He who Doubts from what he sees
Will neer Believe do what you Please
If the Sun & Moon should Doubt
Theyd immediately Go out
To be in a Passion you Good may Do
But no Good if a Passion is in you
The Whore & Gambler by the State
Licencd build that Nations Fate
The Harlots cry from Street to Street
Shall weave Old Englands winding Sheet
The Winners Shout the Losers Curse
Dance before dead Englands Hearse
Every Night & every Morn
Some to Misery are Born
Every Morn and every Night
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to sweet delight
Some are Born to Endless Night
We are led to Believe a Lie
When we see not Thro the Eye
Which was Born in a Night to perish in a Night
When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light
God Appears & God is Light
To those poor Souls who dwell in Night
But does a Human Form Display
To those who Dwell in Realms of day



Sonnet 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no; it is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
 

CupofJoe

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The Rubaiyat by Omar Khayyam
I find it wonderful to dip in and out of.
It is half poem, half life lessons so I really like verse XLVII
And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press
End in what All begins and ends in--Yes;
Think then you are To-day what Yesterday
You were--To-morrow You shall not be less.
 

paranoid marvin

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I can't say that I have read (or would probably enjoy reading) The Rime of the ancient Mariner, but the lines

Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread
And having once turned round walks on
And turns no more his head
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread

are as chilling as any horror story could produce.
 

hitmouse

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I can't say that I have read (or would probably enjoy reading) The Rime of the ancient Mariner, but the lines

Like one, that on a lonesome road
Doth walk in fear and dread
And having once turned round walks on
And turns no more his head
Because he knows a frightful fiend
Doth close behind him tread

are as chilling as any horror story could produce.
Give it a go. I had similar premonitions, plus the existential dread of reading a really long poem. I was pleasantly surprised. It is accessible and engaging, with good narrative drive and logical plot progession.
 

JunkMonkey

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Give it a go. I had similar premonitions, plus the existential dread of reading a really long poem. I was pleasantly surprised. It is accessible and engaging, with good narrative drive and logical plot progession.


I have a copy published by Dover back in the 1970s. For me the illustrations in it, by Gustaf Dore, are apart of the poem, like the Tenniel illustrations for the Alice books are inseparable from Carroll's words.

mariner14.jpg
 

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