Favorite Poetry

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imnotthere

Honorable member
Joined
Apr 27, 2011
Posts
267
The wealth of English poetry is unimaginable. You could easily spend many lifetimes reading,
enjoying and becoming an advanced specie of humankind.
Shakespeare's Sonnets, John Donne, Shelley, Keats, Wordsworth, Yeats, Pound, and Thomas:
And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.

“”From "And death shall have no dominion"
 

pseudonym

Lapsed Senior Member
Joined
Jun 4, 2011
Posts
136
In my original post months ago I said that "The Lotos-Eaters" was one of my favorites. Here's something I wrote in response to this poem. (I only spent around 5-10 minutes writing this, so have some fun and "Rip it to Shreds" if you want. I won't be offended in any way.)

I don’t want a family or any kids
I want to live as the Lotos-Eaters did.
I don’t wish for a motive, a job, or a career,
I want live, to lie reclined, with drink, or drug, cigarettes or beer.
I wish to while away the next 60 years
Until death does come; I’m waiting: I am here!

Some say that boring it is to make of life nothing,
But I have done so, and found that happiness is the absence of responsibility.
Why must I constantly follow the sound of others’ drumming,
When all things end in death’s futility.

So let’s have a drink and smoke a pipe,
Let’s enjoy the pleasures of this life;
But why must lucre always be
A constant torment to you and me.
It always makes one believe
That better things can be had
Than what is already at hand!
Let us enjoy a walk in the park,
A day of Music and TV,
A day, a week, a month, a year
Let us be as we wish to be
And torment us no more with your so called “career!”

For all things ripen toward the grave,
In time intermediate let happiness be made.
Let it be that we live as we so choose
And have not consequences that we are due.
Let us live the life of the billionaire
With no toil, no action, and no career.
Let us enjoy what we have and leave it to luck to form our lives
As we indeed toward nothing strive.
 

Comfortably Numbed

Lapsed Senior Member
Joined
Apr 15, 2012
Posts
315
I myself Like Charles Baudelaire and Poe among others, my own poetry tends to be on the darker more erotic, morbid side of things too, I love the written word, and would prize a book above reading online. I like books and Poetry that push the boundaries and invoke emotion...I find reading between the lines very interesting.
:)
 

LeopoldBloom

Lapsed Senior Member
Joined
Mar 6, 2015
Posts
79
My favorite changes all of the times, but right now it is: Sonnet 73 - William Shakespeare...
 

totts

Lapsed Senior Member
Joined
Nov 24, 2011
Posts
126
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.

How should we like it if starts were to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.

Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.

Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.

The More Loving One. W.H Auden.
 

Alma

Member
Joined
Jun 15, 2015
Posts
22
My favorite poetry in English are lyrics of songs by Jim Morrison (Doors).

All your love has gone
So sing a lonely song
Of a big blue dream
Seven horses seem
To be on the marque (c)

His lyrics seem beautiful because they are so enigmatic.
 

muser

Lapsed Senior Member
Joined
May 1, 2015
Posts
78
Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: `Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear --
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.'
 

Publius

Lapsed Senior Member
Joined
Jul 16, 2016
Posts
161
You know the parlor trick.
wrap your arms around your own body
and from the back it looks like
someone is embracing you
her hands grasping your shirt
her fingernails teasing your neck
from the front it is another story
you never looked so alone
your crossed elbows and screwy grin
you could be waiting for a tailor
to fit you with a straight jacket
one that would hold you really tight.

~ Billy Collins
 
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