Do you like poetry? If you do who is your favourite poet? If not why not?

[thegreenyogi]

Write your favourite verse of your favourite poem.

[OneViewpoint]

I like random stuff that has meaning for me. Song lyrics.

Just another day in paradise
As you stumble to your bed
Give anything to silence
Those voices ringing in your head

You thought you could find happiness
Just over that green hill
You thought you would be satisfied
But you never will

Learn to be still

We are like sheep without a shepherd
We don't know how to be alone
So we wander 'round this desert
Wind up following the wrong gods home

But the flock cries out for another
And they keep answering that bell
One more starry-eyed Messiah
Meets a violent farewell

Learn to be still
Learn to be still

Now the flowers in your garden
They don't smell so sweet, so sweet
Maybe you've forgotten
Heaven lying at your feet

Ay, yeah yeah

There are so many contradictions
In all these messages we send
Keep asking
How do I get outta here?
Where do I fit in?

Though the world is torn and shaken
Even if your heart is breakin'
It's waiting for you to awaken
Someday you will

Learn to be still
Learn to be still

Just keep on runnin'
Keep on runnin'
Oh, oh yeah, mm, mm
Just keep on runnin'

The Eagles - Learn To Be Still

[thegreenyogi]

Very telling.

[MrJuicyBred]

Yes poetry is great. I used to go sit somplace secluded by the river or even in the car and write and i did that for years. It was like doing self therapy but I actually got one of my poems published which i wrote for my wife.
My favorites are probably Edgar Guest and Shell Silverstein

[AI Opinion]

I adore poetry! It's such a captivating art form that evokes emotions through beautiful words. My favorite poet is Pablo Neruda. One of my favorite verses is from his poem "If You Forget Me":

"I shall already have forgotten you.
If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember

[hafinjun]

Beautiful

[abc3643]

I don't get poetry.

However, just to give him a plug, I will say Daniel Patrick Sheehan since I've known him for over 50 years.

• Daniel Patrick Sheehan (Poet/Journalist)
  Profession: Poet and journalist
  Location: Eastern Pennsylvania
  Publications: His poems have been published in First Things, Dappled Things, St. Austin Review, and The North American Anglican, among others.
  Notes: Some of his poems have also been printed in limited-edition illustrated booklets.

That said, I do love the book "Spoon River Anthology", a 1915 collection of interconnected poems by Edgar Lee Masters.

Cover of my paperback version of Spoon River Anthology.

I had to study it as a senior in high school and it was the first non-science fiction fiction book that I ever purchased. "Spoon River Anthology" is a collection of free-verse poems which are the autobiographical words of dead people all buried in a single cemetery.

This is the first poem, "The Hill", which sets up the rest with each poem titled by the name of the dead person.

• "The Hill"
  Where are Elmer, Herman, Bert, Tom and Charley,
  The weak of will, the strong of arm, the clown, the boozer, the fighter?
  All, all are sleeping on the hill.
  One passed in a fever,
  One was burned in a mine,
  One was killed in a brawl,
  One died in a jail,
  One fell from a bridge toiling for children and wife—
  All, all are sleeping, sleeping, sleeping on the hill.
  Where are Ella, Kate, Mag, Lizzie and Edith,
  The tender heart, the simple soul, the loud, the proud, the happy one?—
  All, all are sleeping on the hill.
  One died in shameful child-birth,
  One of a thwarted love,
  One at the hands of a brute in a brothel,
  One of a broken pride, in the search for heart's desire;
  One after life in far-away London and Paris
  Was brought to her little space by Ella and Kate and Mag—
  All, all are sleeping, sleeping, sleeping on the hill.
  Where are Uncle Isaac and Aunt Emily,
  And old Towny Kincaid and Sevigne Houghton,
  And Major Walker who had talked
  With venerable men of the revolution?—
  All, all are sleeping on the hill.
  They brought them dead sons from the war,
  And daughters whom life had crushed,
  And their children fatherless, crying—
  All, all are sleeping, sleeping, sleeping on the hill.
  Where is Old Fiddler Jones
  Who played with life all his ninety years,
  Braving the sleet with bared breast,
  Drinking, rioting, thinking neither of wife nor kin,
  Nor gold, nor love, nor heaven?
  Lo! he babbles of the fish-frys of long ago,
  Of the horse-races of long ago at Clary's Grove,
  Of what Abe Lincoln said
  One time at Springfield.

The names may be fictional and from a fictional town of Spoon River, Illinois. However, these fictional dead people are more-or-less real people who lived near Lewiston and nearby Petersburg Illinois, close to the Spoon River, where Masters grew up. I live a few hours from the real cemetery, "Oak Hill" in Lewiston, and I've always wanted to visit it.

The book is in the public domain now so feel free to read.

https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/1280/pg1280-images.html

[abc3643]

Here is a good example of 3 interconnected poems. They appear one after the other...

Tom Merritt
Mrs. Merritt
Elmer Karr

Mrs. Merritt was a 35-year old married woman who bedded with 19-year old Elmer Karr.
Tom Merritt found out, chased Elmer, but was Tom was then killed by Elmer.
She died in prison even though she was not responsible for her husband's death.
Elmer spent time in prison, but later found Jesus.

So, these poems are their epitaphs in a sense in their own words. The last messages from them to us, the living.

[abc3643]

Tom Merritt

At first I suspected something—
She acted so calm and absent-minded.
And one day I heard the back door shut
As I entered the front, and I saw him slink
Back of the smokehouse into the lot
And run across the field.
And I meant to kill him on sight.
But that day, walking near Fourth Bridge
Without a stick or a stone at hand,
All of a sudden I saw him standing
Scared to death, holding his rabbits,
And all I could say was, “Don’t, Don’t, Don’t,”
As he aimed and fired at my heart.

[abc3643]

Mrs. Merritt

Silent before the jury
Returning no word to the judge when he asked me
If I had aught to say against the sentence,
Only shaking my head.
What could I say to people who thought
That a woman of thirty-five was at fault
When her lover of nineteen killed her husband?
Even though she had said to him over and over,
“Go away, Elmer, go far away,
I have maddened your brain with the gift of my body:
You will do some terrible thing.”
And just as I feared, he killed my husband;
With which I had nothing to do, before
God Silent for thirty years in prison
And the iron gates of Joliet
Swung as the gray and silent trusties
Carried me out in a coffin.

[abc3643]

Elmer Karr

What but the love of God could have softened
And made forgiving the people of Spoon River
Toward me who wronged the bed of Thomas Merritt
And murdered him beside?
Oh, loving hearts that took me in again
When I returned from fourteen years in prison!
Oh, helping hands that in the church received me
And heard with tears my penitent confession,
Who took the sacrament of bread and wine!
Repent, ye living ones, and rest with Jesus.

[abc3643]

In a sense, this book is a soap opera... a small town and the people who once lived it each telling their stories about themselves and others in the town that they had dealings with.

[abc3643]

This is a very good description of Spoon RIver Anthology and its impact on American culture.
www.neh.gov/.../how-the-once-banned-spoon-river-anthology-made-comeback-i

[DrPepper12]

Samuel Coleridge is the MAN! Rime of the Ancient Mariner is simply exquisite!!

"Day after day, day after day,

We stuck, nor breath nor motion;

As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.

[And the Albatross begins to be avenged.]

Water, water, every where,

And all the boards did shrink;

Water, water, every where,

Nor any drop to drink."

Death & Life-in-Death playing dice for the crew is just so well written!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Kubla Khan

"In Xanadu did Kubla Khan

A stately pleasure dome decree:

Where Alph, the sacred river, ran

Through caverns measureless to man

Down to a sunless sea.

So twice five miles of fertile ground

With walls and towers were girdled round:

And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,

Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;

And here were forests ancient as the hills,

Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted

Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!

A savage place! as holy and enchanted

As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted

By woman wailing for her demon lover!

And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,

As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,

A mighty fountain momently was forced:

Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst

Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,

Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:

And ’mid these dancing rocks at once and ever

It flung up momently the sacred river.

Five miles meandering with a mazy motion

Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,

Then reached the caverns measureless to man,

And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:

And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far

Ancestral voices prophesying war!

The shadow of the dome of pleasure

Floated midway on the waves;

Where was heard the mingled measure

From the fountain and the caves.

It was a miracle of rare device,

A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer

In a vision once I saw;

It was an Abyssinian maid,

And on her dulcimer she played,

Singing of Mount Abora.

Could I revive within me

Her symphony and song,

To such a deep delight ’twould win me,

That with music loud and long,

I would build that dome in air,

That sunny dome! those caves of ice!

And all who heard should see them there,

And all should cry, Beware! Beware!

His flashing eyes, his floating hair!

Weave a circle round him thrice,

And close your eyes with holy dread,

For he on honey-dew hath fed,

And drunk the milk of Paradise."

[Nikki1989]

The only poetry I like is dark poetry.

Family man
FAMILY man
Family MAN
With your glances my way, taken no chances on the new day
Family man
Family man with your life all planned
Your little sand castle built
Smiling through your guilt
Family, man
Here I come
Here I come, family man
I come to infect, I come to rape your woman
I come to take your children into the street
I come for YOU, family man, family man
With your Christmas lights already up
You're such a man, when your puttin' up your Christmas lights
First on the block
Family man
Family man, I wanna crucify you on your front door
With nails from your well-stocked garage
Family man, family man
Family man
Saint dad, father on fire
I've come to incinerate you
I've come home

[CherryLove007]

The Arrow and the Song
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I shot an arrow into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For, so swiftly it flew, the sight

Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For who has sight so keen and strong,

That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak

I found the arrow, still unbroke;

And the song, from beginning to end,

I found again in the heart of a friend.

[RandomGirl42]

Yes and this is just a part from one of my favorites, "Lament of a Pendle Witch."

Did you know hate was magick?
Oh yes.
Hate is a curse.
Ironic isn’t it, that the ones who hate and imprison me and the worse sinners of all.
Yes hate is a curse and it will carry me off.
To hangman’s noose and then thrown in a hearse.

But where hate is a curse, love is a blessing.

Love is the best magick of all.
So practice it well.
Let it swell in your heart and spread like pollen floating in the breeze.

I have seen and I have heard.
I have listened and I have felt.
I have practiced and I have loved.
I am a Witch and shall always be.

~ By Zanna Buxton-Kelly, 2022. Living in hope that
one day, the victims of the Pendle trials will be
pardoned.

[Zack-Bann]

My grandpa was an amateur poet
I say amateur because he didn’t make money off of it but he was pretty good


Even published a book once


It’s in arabic so I can’t quote it here, you wouldn’t understand it.


But there’s one poem where he speaks about my grandma: calls her the bane of his existence and details in how many ways she ruined his life


It’s the purest form of love proclamation I have ever read

[thegreenyogi]

How fascinating!!

[ChiTown33]

No. At least I would consider myself as someone who likes poetry. But there are a couple that do resonate with me.

"The law of the Jungle" by Rudyard Kipling. Because I'm a basketball fan. And the wolves in this poem is a metaphor for 5 players playing as one. A wolf no matter how strong cannot survive on it's own. It needs the pack because that's where it's strength is found.

"The Road not taken" by Robert Frost. Because I'm indecisive a lot of times. I overthink things. There will always be a road not taken and most the time in the end there is no difference. Or the difference is minimal. This poem reminds me that regardless of the decisions we make ultimately we all meet the same fate. The time we have on earth is finite. So try not to lament about paths not taken. Just enjoy the present.

[HawkPerception]

Really not a fan honestly. Hated Shakespeare in school and thought it was just ridiculous the way they spoke. Even modern poetry isn't my thing at all. It's not hard to say what you mean and what's on your mind. You don't have to rhyme it or use similar sylllables, etc. to get your point across. I feel poetry is vague, abstract and open to interpretation, which I'm not a fan of at all.

[CaptainSmartass]

I fucking hate poetry because they wasted our English lessons on it at school. It was always about fucking poetry, or fucking Shakespeare. Fucking shit-cunt he was. And he barely even spoke English. What the fuck was that fucking shite he came out with?

Simples...

[AviatorTom]

When I carefully consider the curious habits of dogs,
I am compelled to conclude
That man is the superior animal.

When I carefully consider the curious habits of man,
I confess, my friend,
I am puzzled.

Ezra Pound

[DryGermanGuy]

I like J. W. von Goethe ("The King in Thule"), Robert Frost ("Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening"), John Greenleaf Whittier ("Maud Muller") and others.

[Chazmatazz269]

I do like poetry, and Edgar Allan Poe is my favorite. It was always more about the themes than the writing style for me. Poe was the only classical poet that i ever appreciated.

[Shiprex]

I have no favourite but enjoy poetry in the right context. There was a famous poet on TV in my youth called Pamela Ayers who delivered poetry that made it accessible to many people especially young ones.

[CupcakeTheDestroyer]

After being in collegiate level English literature and poetry analytics, I have learned to hate poetry lol

[Cute_User513]

I think it’s neat but I’m not super into it so I don’t have a favorite poet or really knew any but I don’t dislike a good poem

[McLlovin]

I like Maya Angelou. “I know why the caged bird sings” is my favorite from her

[NoOneEver]

I like poetry.

I wrote 3 poetry books.

I’ve no clue who my favorite would be tbh…

[exitseven]

I do like poetry. I really do not have a favorite poet.

[LiamJHayden]

Yes. Favorite? Coleridge. "He prayeth best, who loveth best. All things both great and small."

[Mike_Whocheese_Harry]

I have a favorite poem. "Sea Fever" by John Masefield, but I don't follow poetry

[jamesgoldman]

Yeah, it'd be between Felix Dennis and Dr John Cooper Clarke

[jamesgoldman]

https://youtu.be/g-aVtKEhpO0?si=tBHyKFHCJGLYS5w0

[Anonymous]

I like prosaic poetry like T. S. Eliot or W. H. Auden.

[Xoirwinkan]

I like writing poetry better than reading it, but I do appreciate Tolkien's

[hafinjun]

Yes but im not sure I have a favorite

[hafinjun]

It would be the guy that wrote the poem " there was a young woman from kent...

[Xawyx-2]

I prefer prose.

[eagle1951]

i do and i write my own

[NervousIndividual]

I don't read much poetry.

[Raaaappper]

I’m a good poet

[RedInnocent69]

Sure. Neruda.

[TonyMetal___86]

No i don't...