does anyone have a poem to recommend me?

Question

next week in english class, i have to recite a poem infront of both level 3 and 4 english classes and i'm in level 3 so i'm pretty stressed about it. i'm 14 and i need a poem not too long (not longer than 20 lines) that isn't too childish nor too complicated. examples of poets that i like are edgar allen poe, oscar wild and jim morrison so if you could find a poem with the same style as theirs (a bit) it would really help me! or if you find one of theirs that are good and short too. or another poet - whatever! does anyone have any suggestions please? thanks! ( :

Answer 1

A poem I like by Poe is "The Raven" but it is longer than 20 lines.
I know you didn't say you like Robert Frost but he has a great classic which I am sure you have heard "the Road Not Taken"
It fits into you 20 or less lines.
Robert Frost
The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

"The Raven"

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore -
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping - rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door -
Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
This it is and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly yours forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping - tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you" - here I opened wide the door: -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!" -
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore! -
Merely this and nothing more.

Then into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore - Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above this chamber door -
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before,"
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his Hope the melacholy burden bore
Of 'Never-nevermore.'"

But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he hath sent thee Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this Home by Horror haunted - tell me truly I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? tell me - tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore.
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting - "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting - still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a Demon that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!

Answer 2

I think I do. I love works by Pablo Neruda. See here:

http://www.maxpages.com/sweetlove/Beautiful_Poem_from_Patch_Adam

http://lnstar.com/literature/pablo/

Remember the movie Patch Adams? Patch recited a poem for his sweetheart who was killed by a crazy lunatic.

There is another one. A poem in a movie called A Passionate Princess - where the padre read it to the Princess to calm her down. I do not know the title or the poet, though. Here it is:

"It is worth struggling for Love

Our days are like grass

We bloom like flowers on a meadow

But soon the wind blows and we are gone

And there is no longer any trace of us in the places we knew

Only WHEN WE LOVE... WE ARE ETERNAL!"


Good luck!

Answer 3

Ozymandias by Percy Bysshe Shelley; How do I Love Thee by Elizabeth Barrett Browning; A Passionate Shepherd to His Love by Christopher Marlowe; The Tyger by William Blake; John Donne Death Be Not Proud; She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron

Answer 4

How about 'Home they brought her warrior dead' by Alfred Tennyson

Since you like Poe,I expect you've read Raven.I found this parody of Raven in fanfiction.net.It is from the tv series Buffy the vampire slayer.Buffy's watcher Giles is trying hard to concentrate on some manuscript.But the vampire Spike chained to Giles' bath tub keeps on interrupting.Read it.Its hilarious.

Once upon a morning cheery, while I studied demon theory,
Over many a thick and tedious volume of forgotten lore -
While I noted demon trapping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one fiercely rapping - rapping at my bathroom door.
"'Tis the vampire," I muttered, "tapping at my bathroom door -
Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak November
He, whom I wish to dismember, dropped himself upon my floor.
In his head a chip did fester, and so me he loves to pester,
Makes fun of my polyester - polyester from the store.
For the cigs and booze and blood - For him do I run to the store,
Errand boy for evermore.

Came the angry, frenzied yelling,echoing throughout my dwelling,
Chilled me- filled me with some drastic measures never thought before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"'Tis the vampire a'beating hard upon my bathroom door -
The freeloader there a'beating hard upon my bathroom door -
And he is declaring war!"

My impatience grew much stronger, hesitating then no longer,
"Spike!" yelled I, "be quiet, or your undead body will be sore;
Soldier movements I've been mapping, and so now you'll cease your yapping!
I don't want to hear you smacking-smacking at my bathroom door!
Scar the wood and I will stake you" - here I opened wide the door. -There he glared, chained on the floor.

"Watcher, you are such a wanker! For some smokes I truly hanker!"
Spike did yell, the tub his anchor, anchored fast down on the floor.
"'Passions' will be on the telly! I need blood inside my belly!
Maybe something from the deli? And let me up from off this floor!
If you don't, I will get louder, so let me up from off this floor!"
Cried the vamp, then said no more.

"Afraid that I must disappoint." I pulled a stake to make my point.
He asked, "Could I then get a joint?" I cannot take this anymore!
He's glaring still, all undaunted. This is not a thing I wanted.
Why can't my home just be haunted? Why a vampire on my floor?
From the room, I'm quickly stalking - stalking from Spike upon my floor.
Said The Watcher, "Nevermore."

"I so heard that, you lousy pouf!" I ignored him, my mind aloof.
Anymore, I'll jump from a roof! I make my way towards the door.
"Get back here, you bloody tosser!" I dismiss that lovely offer,
Gather my books from the coffer, then walk quickly out the door.
I can hear him yet still yelling, chains rattling against the floor.
Yelled The Watcher, "NEVERMORE!"

Answer 5

try Thomas Gainsborough, an English poet i like very much, or a fragment from a poem by Poe

Answer 6

Hey what about "Ode to the west wind" by shelly?Its really cool.The last two parts ie part 4 and 5 are really good if you can learn it.

Answer 7

from atom to sun
all is manifestation
eyes of ignorant men
know not where to look..
there dwells a world that bears
illusion upon its back
who among you can comprehend
that even the destination
has taken to the road..

Answer 8

i would recommend anything by allen ginsberg (or other beat poets, especially if you like jim morrison): http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/g_l/ginsberg/ginsberg.htm
carl sandburg: http://www.carl-sandburg.com/POEMS.htm
or william carlos williams:
http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/s_z/williams/williams.htm

good luck w/ your reading! :)