what is your favorite poem?

Question

best answer if you share.......:)

Answer 1

jack and jill went up a hill, each had a buck and a quarter, jill came down with 2.50!

Answer 2

This poem was in a book I read called Poison Season (very good book). I hope you like it.


At Last the Secret is Out

At last the secret is out, as it always must come out in the end,
The delicious story is ripe to tell a intimate friend;

Over the tea-cups and in the square the tongue has its desire;
Still waters run deep, my dear, there's never smoke without fire.

Behind the corpse in the reservoir, behind the ghost on the links,
Behind the lady that dances and man who madly drinks,

Under the look of fatigue, the attack of migraine and the sigh,
There is always another story, there is more than meets the eye.

For clear voice suddenly singing, high up in the convent wall,
The scent of elder bushes , the sporting prints in the hall,

The croquet matches in the summer, the handshake, the cough the kiss,
There is always a wicked secret, a private reason for this.

-W. H. Auden

Answer 3

My favorite poem changes a lot:

I can give you a link to a few recent ones:

http://www.versedaily.org/2006/firepsychotic.shtml
-Sarah Hannah's "Fire Seen as a Psychotic Break"

http://www.versedaily.org/2007/gacelaanimal.shtml
-J. P. Dancing Bear's "Gacela of Animal Theory"

http://www.versedaily.org/2006/blackiris.shtml
-Bruce Bond's "Black Iris"

http://www.versedaily.org/2007/gargoyle.shtml
-Larissa Szporluk's "Gargoyle"

Answer 4

The full poem is 75 verses...but here's several to whet your appetite.

The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam (Edward Fitzgerald)

Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night
Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight:
And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught
The Sultan's Turret in a Noose of Light.

Dreaming when Dawn's Left Hand was in the Sky
I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry,
"Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup
"Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry."

And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before
The Tavern shouted--"Open then the Door!
"You know how little while we have to stay,
"And, once departed, may return no more."

Now the New Year reviving old Desires,
The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,
Where the WHITE HAND OF MOSES on the Bough
Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.

Iram indeed is gone with all its Rose,
And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows;
But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields,
And still a Garden by the Water blows.

And David's Lips are lock't; but in divine
High piping Pehlevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine!
"Red Wine!"---the Nightingale cries to the Rose
That yellow Cheek of hers to incarnadine.

Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring
The Winter Garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To fly---and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.

And look---a thousand Blossoms with the Day
Woke---and a thousand scatter'd into Clay:
And this first Summer Month that brings the Rose
Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad away.

But come with old Khayyam, and leave the Lot
Of Kaikobad and Kaikhosru forgot!
Let Rustum lay about him as he will,
Or Hatim Tai cry Supper---heed them not.

With me along some Strip of Herbage strown
That just divides the desert from the sown,
Where name of Slave and Sultan scarce is known,
And pity Sultan Mahmud on his Throne.

Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,
A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse---and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness---
And Wilderness is Paradise enow.

"How sweet is mortal Sovranty!"---think some:
Others---"How blest the Paradise to come!"
Ah, take the Cash in hand and waive the Rest;
Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum!

Answer 5

Out in the Fields of God

The little cares that fretted me
I lost them yesterday
Among the fields above the sea,
Among the winds at play,
Among the lowing of the herds,
The rustling of the trees,
Among the singing of the birds,
The humming of the bees.

The foolish fears of what might pass,
I cast them all away,
Among the clover-scented grass,
Among the new-mown hay,
Among the hushing of the corn,
Where drowsy poppies nod,
Where ill thoughts die and good are born—
Out in the fields of God.

~ Author Unknown

I like how nature can give me peace of mind.

Answer 6

My favorite poem was told to me by husband just before he died of cancer. As we lay talking about my future alone he said:
When the wind blows, I'll be in the trees
When the birds fly, I'll be with them.
When the water flows, my spirit will be free.
I will never leave you.

Answer 7

Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven."

Answer 8

"The Road Less Traveled" by Robert Frost

Answer 9

"The Boys I Mean" by ee cummings.
http://www.eliteskills.com/analysis_poetry/the_boys_i_mean_are_not_refined_44_by_e_e_cummings_analysis.php


2nd favorite: "Death of a Naturalist" by Seamus Heaney
http://www.diacenter.org/prg/poetry/87_88/heaney1.html

Answer 10

"the wasteland" by t.s. eliot, followed closely by "the lady of shalott" by alfred lord tennyson