#11
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Re: Your favorite poem and why
There are so many, but the one that comes immediately to my mind is.....
Edgar Allan Poe: El Dorado Why? To me it brilliantly reflects the endless search of Man for Meaning. Tell me what you think.......... Gaily bedight, A gallant night In sunshine and in shadow, Had journeyed long, Singing a song, In search of El Dorado. But he grew old -- This knight so bold -- And -- o'er his heart a shadow Fell as he found No spot of ground That looked like El Dorado. And, as his strength Failed him at length, He met a pilgrim shadow -- "Shadow," said he, "Where can it be -- This land of El Dorado?" "Over the Mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride," The shade replied -- "If you seek for El Dorado." |
#12
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Re: Your favorite poem and why
Emily Bronte's The Prisoner
Stuck with me for year's after reading it in college. In my naivety, I was surprised to find the prisoner a woman. I thought of women of that era romantically, and incapable of warranting such treatment. We don't know why she's imprisoned, and it's a fact we can forgo as her faith, will, and spirit take over the poem. Beautiful and tragic. My favorite line: "When Joy grew mad with awe, at counting future tears." Runner-ups include just about anything by A.E. Housman, particularly: With Rue My Heart Is Laden WITH rue my heart is laden For golden friends I had, For many a rose-lipt maiden And many a lightfoot lad. By brooks too broad for leaping The lightfoot boys are laid; The rose-lipt girls are sleeping In fields where roses fade. And Sara Teasdale, particularly: Barter Life has loveliness to sell, All beautiful and splendid things, Blue waves whitened on a cliff, Soaring fire that sways and sings, And children's faces looking up Holding wonder like a cup. Life has loveliness to sell, Music like a curve of gold, Scent of pine trees in the rain, Eyes that love you, arms that hold, And for your spirit's still delight, Holy thoughts that star the night. Spend all you have for loveliness, Buy it and never count the cost; For one white singing hour of peace Count many a year of strife well lost, And for a breath of ecstasy Give all you have been, or could be. |
#13
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Re: Your favorite poem and why
Very nice.
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#14
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Re: Your favorite poem and why
[ QUOTE ]
Emily Bronte's The Prisoner [/ QUOTE ] Hey thanks for the link, I'd never even heard of that before. It's great. |
#15
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Re: Your favorite poem and why
John Clare: I Am
I am: yet what I am none cares or knows, My friends forsake me like a memory lost; I am the self-consumer of my woes, They rise and vanish in oblivious host, Like shades in love and death's oblivion lost; And yet I am, and live - like vapors tossed Into the nothingness of scorn and noise, Into the living sea of waking dreams, Where there is neither sense of life nor joys, But the vast shipwreck of my life's esteems; Even the dearest, that I loved the best, Are strange - nay, rather stranger than the rest. I long for scenes where man has never trod; A place where woman never smiled or wept; There to abide with my creator, God, And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept: Untroubling, and untroubled where I lie, The grass below - above the vaulted sky. -------------------------------------------- I stumbled upon Clare during my first year in college after a friend suggested reading some of his works. "I Am" was the first poem I read by him and still remember having this odd feeling after reading the poem that it was somehow describing myself. |
#16
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Re: Your favorite poem and why
George Herbert's wonderful sonnet:
The Answer My comforts drop and melt away like snow: I shake my head, and all the thoughts and ends, Which my fierce youth did bandie, fall and flow Like leaves about me: or like summer friends, Flyes of estates and sunne-shine. But to all, Who think me eager, hot, and undertaking, But in my prosecutions slack and small; As a young exhalation, newly waking, Scorns his first bed of dirt, and means the sky; But cooling by the way, grows pursie and slow, And setling to a cloud, doth live and die In that dark state of tears: to all, that so Show me, and set me, I have one reply, Which they that know the rest, know more then I. It's the poem of an older man who hasn't forgotten the convictions of his youth. Note how perfectly Herbert uses the three run on lines in the poems (they're the lines without punctuation at the end), pay attention to its lovely rhythm, and feel the force of the final couplet. A perfectly realized sonnet, I think. |
#17
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Re: Your favorite poem and why
Once I would have started this by quoting "It is an ancient Mariner, and he stoppeth one of three" but times have changed, and I with them. Instead, perhaps the least-appreciated Pulitzer prize winner last century: Edna St Vincent Millay.
Despite being the first woman to win the Pulitzer for poetry, and being celebrated (perhaps notorious is a better word - having an open marriage, being publicly bisexual, feminist, pro-America leading up to WWII, and generally scornful of public norms did nothing for her career) in her day, she is almost unknown now. I have trouble picking one, and some are short, so let me quote a couple from A Few Figs from Thistles: FIRST FIG My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends-- It gives a lovely light! SECOND FIG Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand: Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand! THURSDAY And if I loved you Wednesday, Well, what is that to you? I do not love you Thursday-- So much is true. And why you come complaining Is more than I can see. I loved you Wednesday,--yes--but what Is that to me? Sonnet III Oh, think not I am faithful to a vow! Faithless am I save to love's self alone. Were you not lovely I would leave you now: After the feet of beauty fly my own. Were you not still my hunger's rarest food, And water ever to my wildest thirst, I would desert you--think not but I would!-- And seek another as I sought you first. But you are mobile as the veering air, And all your charms more changeful than the tide, Wherefore to be inconstant is no care: I have but to continue at your side. So wanton, light and false, my love, are you, I am most faithless when I most am true. |
#18
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Re: Your favorite poem and why
Being "pro-America" made her less than popular? Pre WW2? OK
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#19
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Re: Your favorite poem and why
Also, I find 'If' by Kipling more inspirational than a dozen bibles.
IF you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!' If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, ' Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch, if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son! |
#20
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Re: Your favorite poem and why
more of a prayer then a poem, but I like it - of all the ones I know, this one came to me right away.
Bless My Enemies O Lord Bp. Nikolai Velimirovich Bp. Nikolai Velimirovich was a Serbian bishop in the last century who spoke out courageously against Nazism until he was arrested and taken to Dachau. Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them. Enemies have driven me into your embrace more than friends have. Friends have bound me to earth, enemies have loosed me from earth and have demolished all my aspirations in the world. Enemies have made me a stranger in worldly realms and an extraneous inhabitant of the world. Just as a hunted animal finds safer shelter than an unhunted animal does, so have I, persecuted by enemies, found the safest sanctuary, having ensconced myself beneath your tabernacle, where neither friends nor enemies can slay my soul. Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them. They, rather than I, have confessed my sins before the world. They have punished me, whenever I have hesitated to punish myself. They have tormented me, whenever I have tried to flee torments. They have scolded me, whenever I have flattered myself. They have spat upon me, whenever I have filled myself with arrogance. Bless my enemies, O Lord, Even I bless them and do not curse them. Whenever I have made myself wise, they have called me foolish. Whenever I have made myself mighty, they have mocked me as though I were a dwarf. Whenever I have wanted to lead people, they have shoved me into the background. Whenever I have rushed to enrich myself, they have prevented me with an iron hand. Whenever I thought that I would sleep peacefully, they have wakened me from sleep. Whenever I have tried to build a home for a long and tranquil life, they have demolished it and driven me out. Truly, enemies have cut me loose from the world and have stretched out my hands to the hem of your garment. Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them. Bless them and multiply them; multiply them and make them even more bitterly against me: so that my fleeing to You may have no return; so that all hope in men may be scattered like cobwebs; so that absolute serenity may begin to reign in my soul; so that my heart may become the grave of my two evil twins, arrogance and anger; so that I might amass all my treasure in heaven; ah, so that I may for once be freed from self-deception, which has entangled me in the dreadful web of illusory life. Enemies have taught me to know what hardly anyone knows, that a person has no enemies in the world except himself. One hates his enemies only when he fails to realize that they are not enemies, but cruel friends. It is truly difficult for me to say who has done me more good and who has done me more evil in the world: friends or enemies. Therefore bless, O Lord, both my friends and enemies. A slave curses enemies, for he does not understand. But a son blesses them, for he understands. For a son knows that his enemies cannot touch his life. Therefore he freely steps among them and prays to God for them. |
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