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Darlin, I can find In Just, but no luck for the first one you mentioned.
In Just
In Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame baloonman
whistles far and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring
when the world is puddle-wonderful
the queer
old baloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and
it's
spring
and
the
goat-footed
baloonMan whistles
far
and
wee
Subterranean, that is so nice of you! Thank you! I had no luck digging up my favorite poems by him - I'm awful and pulled them from the book I found them in - an old English Lit book that I bought ages ago. I never could find the other poem anywhere else either. Thanks again!
No probs Darl :D
I'm new to Cumming's and feel really excited with them. Am digging his works to get to know them and the poet himself as well.. :nod:
When I find it, though it might take a while I'll post it here. Will look for it over the weekend.
This poem is part of my course work and its nostalgia has really touched my heart:
If Life's a Lousy Picture, Why Not Leave Before the End
Don't worry
One night we'll find that deserted kinema
The torches extinguished
The cornish ripples locked away in the safe
The tornoff tickets chucked
In the tornoff shotbin
the projectionist gone home to his nightmare
Don't worry
that film will still be running
(the one about the sunset)
& we'll find two horses
tethered in the front stalls
& we'll mount
& we'll ride off
_____into
___________our
___________________happy
__________________________ending
-Roger McGough
i like many but most is IMMemoriam by Tennyson
:)i am so old an out of fashion
Well I like Donne too. Like his 'The Flea'. In fact I wrote a poem in reaction to the flea in my blog called 'The Flea's Last Words'. Do read it. Click link below:
http://vidyanjali.blogspot.com/2005/...ast-words.html
Oh my, I could fill a whole thread with nothing but my favorite poems! Here's one...randomly chosen...
CREATIVE WORK (Bryusov)
The shadow of uncreated creatures
Flickers in sleep,
Like palm fronds
On an enamel wall.
Violet hands
On the enamel wall
Drowsily sketch sounds
In the ringing-resonant silence.
And transparent kiosks,
In the ringing-resonant silence,
Grow like spangles
In the azure moonlight.
A naked moon rises
In the azure moonlight...
Sounds hover drowsily,
Sounds caress me.
The secrets of created creatures
Caress me caressingly
And palm shadows gutter
On an enamel wall.
I found this on the internet but it didnt state who the poet was, just who posted it. Its sad but strikes a chord...
TOO LATE
I didn't know I loved you
Until you went away.
I didn't much think of you
Up to that final day.
The music that was you
I only noticed when it stopped.
I didn't take the time to
Tell you that I cared a lot.
My love of life went with you
Too late for me to say
I didn't know how much I loved you
Until the day you went away.
:(
xxx
I've always liked Alfred Lord Tennyson's 'Ulysses'
"....Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."
I don't know if anyone's already posted this one yet, but I love Emily Dickinson's poem "Because I Could Not Stop for Death". My dad, the poetry love he is, always used to say the first couple of lines to me when I was growing up so it kind of has a personal connection.
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labour, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then 'tis centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
I have to say that my favourite poem would be The Love song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot. Other than that Sylvia Plath's Daddy has a profound effect on me :nod:
I know that there has been some discussion about e.e. cummings. This is one of my all time favorite poems:
in the rain-
darkness, the sunset
being sheathed i sit and
think of you
the holy
city which is your face
your little cheeks the streets
of smiles
your eyes half-
thrush
half-angel and your drowsy
lips where float flowers of kiss
and
there is the sweet shy pirouette
your hair
and then
your dancesong
soul. rarely-beloved
a single star is
uttered, and i
think
of you
http://www.users.qwest.net/~mbenjami...es/poetry.html
Oh way too many for me. I love Poe, William Blake, Lord Byron, Neruda and Keats. BUT, lately W.B Yeats has become my addiction. This is my favorite poem in the world.
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under you feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Hello, Monica
Just a couple of more words about the Lermontov poem. In Russian it is not clear who it is addressed to. Some say that it is addressed to God. The translation adds "my dear", which is absent in the original text. If you read it like this, it changes the meaning a lot. By the way, he wrote the poem in 1840 saying (again in the original) in the last two lines that "he hopes to thank you (God) not for long". Again an inaccurate translation. In 1841 at the age of 27 Lermontov is shot to death during a duel. His poem's request was granted.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Monica