my favourite poem...what's yours?

by ninja 47 Replies latest jw friends

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  blondie

  Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.

  Part Two: Nature XXXIII

  H OW happy is the little stone
  That rambles in the road alone,
  And does n’t care about careers,
  And exigencies never fears;
  Whose coat of elemental brown	5
  A passing universe put on;
  And independent as the sun,
  Associates or glows alone,
  Fulfilling absolute decree
  In casual simplicity.	10

  Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.

  Part One: Life CXVI

  I MEASURE every grief I meet
  With analytic eyes;
  I wonder if it weighs like mine,
  Or has an easier size.
  I wonder if they bore it long,	5
  Or did it just begin?
  I could not tell the date of mine,
  It feels so old a pain.
  I wonder if it hurts to live,
  And if they have to try,	10
  And whether, could they choose between,
  They would not rather die.
  I wonder if when years have piled—
  Some thousands—on the cause
  Of early hurt, if such a lapse	15
  Could give them any pause;
  Or would they go on aching still
  Through centuries above,
  Enlightened to a larger pain
  By contrast with the love.	20
  The grieved are many, I am told;
  The reason deeper lies,—
  Death is but one and comes but once,
  And only nails the eyes.
  There ’s grief of want, and grief of cold,—	25
  A sort they call “despair”;
  There ’s banishment from native eyes,
  In sight of native air.
  And though I may not guess the kind
  Correctly, yet to me	30
  A piercing comfort it affords
  In passing Calvary,
  To note the fashions of the cross,
  Of those that stand alone,
  Still fascinated to presume	35
  That some are like my own.

  Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924.

  Part Three: Love XXV

  W ILD nights! Wild nights!
  Were I with thee,
  Wild nights should be
  Our luxury!
  Futile the winds	5
  To a heart in port,—
  Done with the compass,
  Done with the chart.
  Rowing in Eden!
  Ah! the sea!	10
  Might I but moor
  To-night in thee!
• 

  parakeet

  Spring and Fall: to a Young Child (Gerard Manley Hopkins)
  
  MÁRGARÉT, áre you gríeving
  Over Goldengrove unleaving?
  Leáves, líke the things of man, you
  With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
  Áh! ás the heart grows older
  It will come to such sights colder
  By and by, nor spare a sigh
  Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
  And yet you wíll weep and know why.
  Now no matter, child, the name:
  Sórrow’s spríngs áre the same.
  Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
  What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
  It ís the blight man was born for,
  It is Margaret you mourn for.
• 

  Fleshybirdfodder

  Sitting at the window and looking through the glass

  it's melted sand that birds can't see

  and fly into and crash

  Into a pane from blue skies real

  the last thing that they'll ever feel

  won't be the worms that frame their meal

  with hollow bones and grass

  If birds can live in memory

  and sky and sand and pain are real

  then I am just a memory

  the last thought that the bird could see

  looking through the glass

  FBF
• 

  lonelysheep

  William Shakespeare

  Sonnet 36 Let me confess that we two must be twain

  Let me confess that we two must be twain,
  Although our undivided loves are one:
  So shall those blots that do with me remain
  Without thy help by me be borne alone.
  In our two loves there is but one respect,
  Though in our lives a separable spite,
  Which though it alter not love's sole effect,
  Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love's delight.
  I may not evermore acknowledge thee,
  Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,
  Nor thou with public kindness honour me,
  Unless thou take that honour from thy name:
  But do not so; I love thee in such sort
  As, thou being mine, mine is thy good report.
• 

  poppers

  Stopping By the Woods on a Snowy Evening, by Robert Frost - I'd post it but I can't format. I also like The Highway Man, by Alfred Noyes; A Cup of Christmas Tea, Jabberwocky, and Little Orphan Annie. I have committed all of these to memory and recite them to kids in school - they love it.
• 

  El Kabong

  O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;
  The ship has weathered every rack, the prize we sought is won;
  The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
  While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring.
  But O heart! heart! heart!
  O the bleeding drops of red!
  Where on the deck my Captain lies,
  Fallen cold and dead.

  II.

  O captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
  Rise up! For you the flag is flung, for you the bugle trills:
  For you bouquets and ribboned wreaths, for you the shores a-crowding:
  For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning.
  Here Captain! dear father!
  This arm beneath your head;
  It is some dream that on the deck,
  You've fallen cold and dead.

  III.

  My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;
  My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;
  The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;
  From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won!
  Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!
  But I with mournful tread,
  Walk the deck my Captain lies,
  Fallen cold and dead.
• 

  ninja

  http://www.sendspace.com/file/vesmuy ...last night I forgot to say that the poem was on mp3...oops......btw loving them poems.....fleshy ...did you write that poem yourself?
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  Amber Rose

  I think that I shall never see

  My cataracts are blinding me
• 

  flipper

  Birdie, Birdie in the sky Why'd you do that in my eye? I'm so glad That cows don't fly Sorry - need more caffeine flipper
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  ninja

  aye aye captain ..aye aye skipper...harpoon ready....lets get flipper....he he