The Poetry Appreciation Thread

[Kid Chocolate]

anyone else like poetry here, who are your favourite poets or poems? Post them here. (No homo?)

My Bohemian Life
Arthur Rimbaud

I went off with my hands in my torn coat pockets;
My overcoat too was becoming ideal;
I travelled beneath the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal;
Oh dear me! what marvellous loves I dreamed of!

My only pair of breeches had a big whole in them.

 

[Kid Chocolate]

Is this the Region, this the Soil, the Clime,
Said then the lost Arch-Angel, this the seat
That we must change for Heav'n, this mournful gloom
For that celestial light? Be it so, since he
Who now is Sovran can dispose and bid
What shall be right: fardest from him is best
Whom reason hath equald, force hath made supream
Above his equals. Farewel happy Fields
Where Joy for ever dwells: Hail horrours, hail
Infernal world, and thou profoundest Hell
Receive thy new Possessor: One who brings
A mind not to be chang'd by Place or Time.
The mind is its own place, and in it self
Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.
What matter where, if I be still the same,
And what I should be, all but less then he
Whom Thunder hath made greater? Here at least
We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built
Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:
Here we may reign secure, and in my choyce
To reign is worth ambition though in Hell:
Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav'n.

Paradise Lost Book 1, l.242-263

 

[SafyreSchool**]

I wrote a children's book of poetry.
Here's an excerpt.


A Poem About an Apple that is Sure to Disappoint the Reader
I see an apple.
There it is.

 

[Kid Chocolate]

I wrote a children's book of poetry.
Here's an excerpt.


A Poem About an Apple that is Sure to Disappoint the Reader
I see an apple.
There it is.

Very fitting title at least.

 

[SafyreSchool**]

Very fitting title at least.

Haha, thanks.
It's part of a series.

A Poem About an Apple that is Suspiciously Similar to an earlier Poem
I see an apple.
It is there.


But again, it's for children.
There's like 6 of those apple "poems", haha.

 

[Daverisimo]

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Shut the fuck up,
I hate you

 

[Kid Chocolate]

No one going to give a serious answer? of course I expected those responses but that doesn't really make them funny.

 

[Sdeaf]

I hate poetry! Especially Epics! Especially Greek Epics like the Aenied! Who would even read such things?

 

[Rusk]

i like Joseph Brodsky he is a russian jew, who emigrated to US, most of his best poems is in russian, and about time

 

[Kid Chocolate]

I hate poetry! Especially Epics! Especially Greek Epics like the Aenied! Who would even read such things?

I'm not as fussed on the Aeneid but I love The Odyssey. I'm currently reading Paradise Lost, even though it is hard going. Different strokes for different folks I guess. At least you didn't try and be funny.

 

[Jermei]

Hickory Dickory Dock
This ***** was sucking my kawk
The Clock struck two,
I dropped my Goo
And dumped the ***** off on the next block.

 

[Jermei]

but seriously... this is my favourite poem:

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound

 

[Kid Chocolate]

but seriously... this is my favourite poem:

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
By Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound

 

[Sdeaf]

I'm not as fussed on the Aeneid but I love The Odyssey. I'm currently reading Paradise Lost, even though it is hard going. Different stores for different folks I guess. At least you didn't try and be funny.

Yea the Odyssey is fun, but I liked the Iliad better. Those old stories are surprisingly good.

 

[Kid Chocolate]

Yea the Odyssey is fun, but I liked the Iliad better. Those old stories are surprisingly good.

Yeah, That was meant different strokes as I'm sure you guessed but it auto corrected.

But if you like The Odyssey and Illiad why do you say you don't like epic poems?

 

[Sdeaf]

Yeah, That was meant different strokes as I'm sure you guessed but it auto corrected.

But if you like The Odyssey and Illiad why do you say you don't like epic poems?

You caught me trying to be funny, since my Signature is from the Aeneid. ^^. It's a good one, though, and I'd recommend reading at least the first couple chapters if you haven't before.

 

[Kid Chocolate]

You caught me trying to be funny, since my Signature is from the Aeneid. ^^. It's a good one, though, and I'd recommend reading at least the first couple chapters if you haven't before.

Oh haha, my bad, it would have been funny had I noticed your sig. Yeah I have read and studied both The Odyssey and The Aeneid.

 

[Sdeaf]

Oh haha, my bad, it would have been funny had I noticed your sig. Yeah I have read and studied both The Odyssey and The Aeneid.

Oh cool, glad to hear it ^^. Well since I've wasted so much of everyone's time here I'll add to the poetry part of this. It's not my favorite, and I'm not sure I even understand it completely, but here's some from T.S. Elliot's The Waste Land.

Then spoke the thunder
DA
Datta: what have we given?
My friend, blood shaking my heart
The awful daring of a moment

 

[Fawlty]

Couple of Bukowski's won't hurt anybody



The Genius Of The Crowd

there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at murder are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god
those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach peace do not have love

beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond
like a knife
like a mountain
like a tiger
like hemlock

their finest art

______________________


to the whore who took my poems

some say we should keep personal remorse from the
poem,
stay abstract, and there is some reason in this,
but jezus;
twelve poems gone and I don't keep carbons and you have
my
paintings too, my best ones; it's stifling:
are you trying to crush me out like the rest of them?
why didn't you take my money? they usually do
from the sleeping drunken pants sick in the corner.
next time take my left arm or a fifty
but not my poems;
I'm not Shakespeare
but sometime simply
there won't be any more, abstract or otherwise;
there'll always be money and whores and drunkards
down to the last bomb,
but as God said,
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets
but not so very much
poetry.

 

[A Bird]

I enjoy the occasional poem.

I have trouble finding good contemporary stuff but I enjoy some classic stuff like Shelley, Milton, William Blake, or Samuel Taylor Coleridge.

Slightly more up to date I enjoy the Irish rage of Yeats, the post WWI bitterness of Wilfred Owen, and the pastoral works of Ted Hughes.