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Favourite poem of all time!
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| read 126 reaction(s) |
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@ 12-10-2003 18:21 Masterful_Ally | 15,627 posts
| The title says it all - choose your one favourite poem, and tell us why you like it. Mine is 'London' by William Blake. I know it off by heart, thats how sad I am, hehe!
I love it and his work because it is so brave, he dared to speak out against the Catholic chruch and it's role in the extreme poverty of the time, and of all the socials ills of the terrible time in general....something very few other people had dared to do. He also writes beautifully and creatively, and he is the only person who has ever made me undertstand even slightly why people believe in God 
LONDON
I wander through each chartered street,
Near where the chartered Thames does flow,
A mark in every face I meet,
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every man,
In every infant's cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forged manacles I hear:
How the chimney-sweeper's cry
Every blackening church appals,
And the hapless soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down palace-walls.
But most, through midnight streets I hear
How the youthful harlot's curse
Blasts the new-born infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the marriage hearse.
Ally xxx |
| Showing posts 26-50 of 126 | Page 2 of 6 |
| Discussion |
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 0  @ 13-11-2003 18:06 The_Crow_Reborn | 
334 posts
| "Top Of the world"
You dont know it, but sometimes.
I sit upon a hill.Takeing in a sip of momentary grace.
On this brink of everything I know.
I can gain an eyeful at the lost Atlantis,
and the human soul.
And the breathe that fills my lungs
between the air of two stars.
If you are now to capture the image of this Illation.
Between the framework of your mind.
Then At most you would know nothing of the beauty
your exsistence throws at me.For mine is a love no experience,
no measure,no words could ever degrate into reality by virtue of Degree.
By Shawn Hunter | | 0 @ 15-11-2003 01:56 Jai_Knappster | 7 posts
| Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me,
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea.
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from the boundless deep,
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho' from out our bourne of time and place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.
-Alfred Tennyson, "Crossing the Bar" | | 0 @ 15-11-2003 20:29 radiate86 | 3,311 posts
| Cheech, I really love that happiness poem. | | 0 @ 16-11-2003 21:56 Royall_T | 276 posts
| Anything by Edgar Allan Poe I cant pick just one they are all good! He's the king of all poetry  | | 0 @ 02-12-2003 18:19 Masterful_Ally | 15,627 posts
| I just came across this Ted Hughes poem and remembered how much I love it. It reminds me of the debate we were having a week or so ago about whether animals were inferior to humans or not - reminds me of some of the points I made to prove they are not.
WORK AND PLAY!
The swallow of summer, she toils all the summer,
A blue-dark knot of glittering voltage,
A whiplash swimmer, a fish of the air.
But the serpent of cars that crawls through the dust
In shimmering exhaust
Searching to slake
Its fever in ocean
Will play and be idle or else it will bust.
The swallow of summer, the barbed harpoon,
She flings from the furnace, a rainbow of purples,
Dips her glow in the pond and is perfect.
But the serpent of cars that collapsed on the beach
Disgorges its organs
A scamper of colours
Which roll like tomatoes
Nude as tomatoes
With sand in their creases
To cringe in the sparkle of rollers and screech.
The swallow of summer, the seamstress of summer,
She scissors the blue into shapes and she sews it,
She draws a long thread and she knots it at the corners.
But the holiday people
Are laid out like wounded
Flat as in ovens
Roasting and basting
With faces of torment as space burns them blue
Their heads are transistors
Their teeth grit on sand grains
Their lost kids are squalling
While man-eating flies
Jab electric shock needles but what can they do?
They can climb in their cars with raw bodies, raw faces
And start up the serpent
And headache it homeward
A car full of squabbles
And sobbing and stickiness
With sand in their crannies
Inhaling petroleum
That pours from the foxgloves
While the evening swallow
The swallow of summer, cartwheeling through crimson,
Touches the honey-slow river and turning
Returns to the hand stretched from under the eaves -
A boomerang of rejoicing shadow. | | 0 @ 02-12-2003 18:29 The_Optimist | 
14,651 posts
| Alla sera
Forse perché della fatal quiete
tu sei l'immago a me sì cara vieni
o Sera! E quando ti corteggian liete
le nubi estive e i zeffiri sereni,
e quando dal nevoso aere inquiete
tenebre e lunghe all'universo meni
sempre scendi invocata, e le secrete
vie del mio cor soavemente tieni.
Vagar mi fai co' miei pensier su l'orme
che vanno al nulla eterno; e intanto fugge
questo reo tempo, e van con lui le torme
delle cure onde meco egli si strugge;
e mentre io guardo la tua pace, dorme
quello spirto guerrier ch'entro mi rugge
-Ugo Foscolo- | | 0 @ 06-12-2003 16:31 sleepflower | 13 posts
| Okay... this is a great poem by Baudelaire, a fantastic, and apparently very often drunk guy.
cheers  
Get Drunk!
One should always be drunk. That's all that matters;
that's our one imperative need. So as not to feel Time's
horrible burden one which breaks your shoulders and bows
you down, you must get drunk without cease.
But with what?
With wine, poetry, or virtue
as you choose.
But get drunk.
And if, at some time, on steps of a palace,
in the green grass of a ditch,
in the bleak solitude of your room,
you are waking and the drunkeness has already abated,
ask the wind, the wave, the stars, the clock,
all that which flees,
all that which groans,
all that which rolls,
all that which sings,
all that which speaks,
ask them, what time it is;
and the wind, the wave, the stars, the birds, and the clock,
they will all reply:
"It is time to get drunk!
So that you may not be the martyred slaves of Time,
get drunk, get drunk,
and never pause for rest!
With wine, poetry, or virtue,
as you choose!" | | 0 @ 08-12-2003 03:17 tHeNsH3saYs | 7 posts
| Solitude
Laugh, and the whole world laughs with you;
Weep, and you weep alone.
For the sad and old earth must borrow its mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;
Sigh, and it is lost on the air.
The echos bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;
Grieve, and they turn and go.
They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;
Be sad, and you loose them all.
There are none to decline you nectared wine,
But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and all your halls are crowded;
Fast, and the world goes by.
Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
But no man can help you die.
There is a room in the halls of pleasure
for a long and lordy train,
But one by one we must all file on
Through the narrow aisles of pain.
-----------------------------------------------
it just pretty much sums up how life is | | 0 @ 08-12-2003 03:33 Rass | 5,430 posts
| mine is "Long Corridor" By C---- uh....The KOD  don't know if she wants you all to know her real name (cackles) but here it is, and why do i like it so much? well just read it, it's like so me and then at the end it's like "no, dont worry, it's all good in the end" it makes me cry every time i read it 
Walking down
A long, long corridor
Death awaits you
Behind every closed door.
A woman screams
A child cries
A patient hopes
A doctor lies.
Hearts pound steadily
Here in the gloom
As a young wife waits
For her infants doom.
A man mourns
As his son dies
Alone in a room
Waiting for the sunrise.
An alarm goes off
A teenager will wait
Tomorrow, he knows
Will bring him his fate.
All alone, these poor people
Dying without a hope
Crying, Crying
How will their family’s cope?
…And an angel stands in the lighted window
Watching and waiting
Comforting and soothing
Ready to bring them home…
| | 0 @ 29-12-2003 04:46 BittyBum66 | 64 posts
| My Two favorites are Annabell Lee by Edgar Allen Poe and The Road Less Taken By by Robert Frost. The first one just shows so much love and it flows so well, it's beautiful. And the second one is exactly the way I want to live my life all crammed into a poem. They are both amazing. | | 0 @ 16-01-2004 22:00 BeLLaDoNNaFeMMe | 399 posts
| short and maybe not so sweet, but I absolutely love Dorothy Parker's Resume
Razors pain you
Rivers are damp
Acids stain you
And drugs cause cramp
Guns aren't lawful
Nooses give
Gas smells awful
You might as well live. | | 0 @ 16-01-2004 23:01 Celines1fan5 | 151 posts
| my favorite poem is....
"Somebody should have taught him"
I went to a birthday party
but i remembered what you said.
you told me not to drink at all,
so i had a sprite instead.
I felt proud of myself,
the way you said i would,
that i didn't choose to drink and drive,
though some of my friends said i should.
i know i made a healthy choice and
your advice to me was right
as the party finally ended the kids drove out of sight.
i got into my own car,
sure to get home in one piece,
never knowing what was coming,
something i expected least.
now i'm lying on the pavement.
i can hear the policeman say,
"the kid that caused this wreck was drunk."
his vioce seems so far way.
my own blood is all around me,
as i try hard not to cry.
I can hear the paramedic say,
"this girl is going to die."
i'm sure the guy had no idea,
while he was flying high,
because he chose to drink and drive
that i would have to die.
so why do people do it,
knowing that it ruins lives?
but now the pain is cutting me
like a hundred stabbing knives.
Tell my sister not to be afraid,
tell Daddy to be brace,
and when i go to heaven to
put "Daddy's girl" on my grave.
Someone should have taught him
that it's wrong to drink and drive.
Maybe if his mom and dad had,
i'd still be alive.
My breath is getting shorter,
i'm getting really scared.
These are my final moments
and i'm so unprepared.
i wish that you could hold me, mom,
as i lie here and die.
i wish that i could say
I love you and good-bye.
| | 0 @ 24-01-2004 12:13 maiya666 | 306 posts
| that is the most beautiful and saddest thing i ever heard.
on a lighter note, heres a short limerick that i really like:
God in His wisdom
Made the fly,
Then forgot
To tell us why. | | 0 @ 09-02-2004 17:19 binxy | 16 posts
| I've got 3all time favs and i cant pick between
The first because one of my close friends died last year and he always used to love this poem and it now kinda reminds me of him. The secound because er well..its just great.The 3rd because it was read at my grandads funeral
"When Ure Hero Falls," Tupac Shakur
when your hero falls from grace
all fairy tales are uncovered
myths exposed and pain magnified
the greatest pain discovered
you taught me to be strong
but I'm confused to see you so weak
you said never to give up
and it hurts to see you welcome defeat
when your Hero falls so do the stars
and so does the perception of tomorrow
without my Hero there is only
me alone to deal with my sorrow.
your Heart ceases to work
and your soul is not happy at all
what are you expected to do
when ure only Hero falls
Moonlight Ride
Jenny was so happy about the house they had found.
For once in her life 'twas on the right side of town.
She unpacked her things with the greatest of ease.
As she watched her new curtains blow in the breeze.
How wonderful it was to have her own room.
School would be starting, she'd have friends over soon.
There'd be sleep-overs, and parties; she was so happy
It's just the way she wanted her life to be.
On the first day of school, everything went great.
She made new friends and even got a date!
She thought, "I want to be popular and I'm going to be,
Because I just got a date with the star of the team!"
To be known in this school you had to have a clout,
And dating this guy would sure help her out
there was only one problem stopping her fate.
Her parents had said she was too young to date.
"Well, I just won't tell them the entire truth
They won't know the difference; what's there to lose?"
Jenny asked to stay with her friends that night.
Her parents frowned but said, "All right."
Excited, she got ready for the big event
But as she rushed around like she had no sense,
She began to feel guilty about all the lies.
But what's a pizza, party and a moonlight ride?
Well the pizza was good, and the party was great,
But the moonlight ride would have to wait.
For Jeff was half drunk by this time.
But he kissed her and said that he was just fine.
Then the room filled with smoke and Jeff took a puff.
Jenny couldn't believe he was smoking that stuff.
Now Jeff was ready to ride to the point
But only after he'd smoked another joint.
They jumped in the car for the moonlight ride,
Not thinking that he was too drunk to drive.
They finally made it to the point at last,
And Jeff started trying to make a pass.
A pass is not what Jenny wanted at all
(and by a pass, I don't mean playing football).
"Perhaps my parents were right....maybe I am too young.
Boy, how could I ever, ever be so dumb?"
With all of her might, she pushed Jeff away.
"Please take me home, I don't want to stay."
Jeff cranked up the engine and floored the gas.
In a matter of seconds they were going too fast.
As Jeff drove on in a fit of wild anger,
Jenny knew that her life was in danger.
She begged and pleaded for him to slow down,
But he just got faster as they neared the town.
"Just let me get home! I'll confess that I lied.
I really went out for a moonlight ride."
Then all of a sudden, she saw a big flash.
"Oh God, Please help us! We're going to crash!"
She doesn't remember the force of impact.
Just that everything all of a sudden went black.
She felt someone remove her from the twisted rubble,
And heard, "Call an ambulance! These kids are in trouble!"
Voices she heard...a few words at best.
But she knew there were two cars involved in the wreck.
Then wondered to herself if Jeff was alright,
And if they people in the other car were alive.
She awoke in the hospital to faces so sad.
"You've been in a wreck and it looks pretty bad."
These voices echoed inside her head,
As they gently told her that Jeff was dead.
They said "Jenny, we've done all we can do.
But it looks as if we'll lose you too."
"But the people in the other car!?" Jenny cried.
"We're sorry, Jenny, they also have died."
Jenny prayed, "God, forgive me for what I've done
I only wanted to have one night of fun."
"Tell those people's family, I've made their lives dim,
And wish I could return their families to them."
"Tell Mom and Dad I'm sorry I lied,
And that it's my fault so many have died.
Oh, nurse, won't you please tell them that for me?"
The nurse just stood there ~ she never agreed.
But took Jenny's hand with tears in her eyes
And a few moments later Jenny died.
A man asked the nurse, "Why did you not do your best
To bid that girl her one last request?"
She looked at the man with eyes oh so sad.
"Because the people in the other car were her mom and dad."
This story is sad and unpleasant but True,
So young people take heed, it could have been you.
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone
W. H. Auden
Ê
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
(  )
another good one isDo not stand at my grave and weep...
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awake in the mornings hush,
I am the swift upflinging rush...
of quiet birds in circling flight,
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry...
I am not there... I did not die...
(it was a memorial one for my teacher who died and my great grandad)
| | 0 @ 19-02-2004 10:05 TheNephilim | 87 posts
| I don't know who this is by but its one of my favourites. It's called When I'm Gone
When i come to the end of my journey
And i travel my last weary mile
Just forget if you can that i ever frowned
And remember only the smile
Forget unkind words i have spoken
Remember some good i have done
Forget that i've ever had heartache
And remember i've had loads of fun
Forget that i've stumbled and blundered
And sometimes i've fell by the way
Remember i have fought some hard battles
And won ere the close of the day
Then forget to grieve for my going
I would not have you sad for a day
But in summer just gather some flowers
And remember where i like to stay
And walk in the shade of the evening
When the sun paints the sky in the west
Ponder a moment about me
And remember only my best !! | | 0 @ 04-03-2004 18:12 AstralPhoenix | 779 posts
| I have a great deal of favourite poetry... Here is a gorgeous one that I adore :
Ode To Melancholy
by John Keats
NO, no, go not to Lethe, neither twist
Wolf's-bane, tight-rooted, for its poisonous wine;
Nor suffer thy pale forehead to be kiss'd
By nightshade, ruby grape of Proserpine;
Make not your rosary of yew-berries,
Nor let the beetle, nor the death-moth be
Your mournful Psyche, nor the downy owl
A partner in your sorrow's mysteries;
For shade to shade will come too drowsily,
And drown the wakeful anguish of the soul.
But when the melancholy fit shall fall
Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud,
That fosters the droop-headed flowers all,
And hides the green hill in an April shroud;
Then glut thy sorrow on a morning rose,
Or on the rainbow of the salt sand-wave,
Or on the wealth of globed peonies;
Or if thy mistress some rich anger shows,
Emprison her soft hand, and let her rave,
And feed deep, deep upon her peerless eyes.
She dwells with Beauty--Beauty that must die;
And Joy, whose hand is ever at his lips
Bidding adieu; and aching Pleasure nigh,
Turning to poison while the bee-mouth sips:
Ay, in the very temple of Delight
Veil'd Melancholy has her sovran shrine,
Though seen of none save him whose strenuous tongue
Can burst Joy's grape against his palate fine;
His soul shalt taste the sadness of her might,
And be among her cloudy trophies hung.
It is written so gently, beautifullly and sad... I just love it...
Alexandra
| | 0 @ 05-03-2004 17:43 Masterful_Ally | 15,627 posts
| Right, I just though I'd post my favourite humorous poem of all time, from an Adrian Mole book (anyone read them?) written by Sue Townsend.
It's about an ex-priminster here in Britain, who ruined this country, and destroyed the working classes 'till they has nothing left. She's evil, and disgusting, I hate the fact that she is still alive, and although this poem is funny it is also painfully true.
*********************************************
Do you weep, Mrs Thatcher, do you weep?
Do you wake, Mrs Thatcher, in your sleep?
Do you weep like a sad willow?
On your Marks and Spencer's pillow?
Are your tears molten steel?
Do you weep?
Do you wake with 'Three million' on your brain?
Are you sorry that they'll never work again?
When you're dressing in your blue, do you see the waiting queue?
Do you weep, Mrs Thatcher, do you weep?
| | 0 @ 16-03-2004 00:42 Hogram | 157 posts
| I'm not gonna post some big-ass poem and force you to read it, but if you get a chance, take a look at: The Raven by Edgar Alan Poe. I hate poetry but that poem is some wicked poetry | | 0 @ 16-03-2004 00:44 Masterful_Ally | 15,627 posts
|  hate poetry?!
*faints*
lol
I know that poem but I'm not the biggest Poe fan myself... | | 0 @ 16-03-2004 12:59 Hogram | 157 posts
| Okay, I'll correct. I hate poetry being forced down my throat by teachers and idiots trying to 'express' an opinion with crap sentences with single final words that always rhyme with the final word on the line underneath. I like poems that find me and hit home, yeah? Stuff that puts you in the mental 'place' of the poet at the time they wrote it. And it's gotta be read well. | | 0 @ 16-03-2004 17:22 kurt_lives_on | 163 posts
| this is my alltime fav poem
its from 10 things i h8 bout u
i hate the way you talk to me,
and the way you cut your hair.
I hate the way you drive my car,
I hate it when you stare.
I hate your big dumb combat boots
and the way you read my mind.
I hate you so much it makes me sick,
it even makes me rhyme.
I hate the way you’re always right,
I hate it when you lie.
I hate it when you make me laugh,
even worse when you make me cry.
I hate it when you’re not around,
and the fact that you didn’t call.
But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you,
not even close…
not even a little bit…
not even at all.[/b] | | 0 @ 21-03-2004 01:11 JDisturbed | 122 posts
| I don't know if you'd consider it a poem, but....
"In an age of nothing,
at time when we stand at the brink of our own destruction.
Strengthen your belief in yourself,
in the future of humanity,
in the things of this world which cannot easily be percieved,
awaken that which lies dormant now within your soul.
Re-ignite the flame of your consciousness,
and measure the strength of your conviction.
Reveal the lie,
renounce your hatred.
Seek, find and embrace the truths
you are fortunate enough to discover.
Cherish them,
use them to anchor you in the sea of chaos that is the world we live in.
When twilight draws near,
when you are pushed to the very limits of your soul,
when it seems that all you have left are the dead remnants
of the fabric of your life...
Believe." | | 0 @ 21-03-2004 02:41 AndyFnJ | 5,439 posts
| Ive got two... The Raven has always been one of my fav poems for sure, Poe was really really good 
But my absolute fav is Frost's "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.
| | 0 @ 21-03-2004 02:44 DeathByMonkeys | 24,877 posts
| Here's mine.... The Lady of Shalott.
I love it cause of the fact that she's supposedly a witch...plus she falls in love with Lancelot (Who, according to Phil, was more of a man-whore than (Dek)Matt.) and dies because of it....
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And through the field the road run by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Through the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four grey walls, and four grey towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.
By the margin, willow veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?
Only reapers, reaping early,
In among the bearded barley
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly;
Down to tower'd Camelot;
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers, " 'Tis the fairy
The Lady of Shalott."
There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.
And moving through a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot;
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls
Pass onward from Shalott.
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
And sometimes through the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two.
She hath no loyal Knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.
But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often through the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot;
Or when the Moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed.
"I am half sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shalott.
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.
The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armor rung
Beside remote Shalott.
All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, burning bright,
Moves over still Shalott.
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flashed into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.
She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.
In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining.
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And around about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.
And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance --
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right --
The leaves upon her falling light --
Thro' the noises of the night,
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.
Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darkened wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.
Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and Burgher, Lord and Dame,
And around the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.
Who is this? And what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they crossed themselves for fear,
All the Knights at Camelot;
But Lancelot mused a little space
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott."
| | 0 @ 23-03-2004 00:12 kmt_1989 | 330 posts
| I like Poe's poems the best. The Raven, an all time fav. And of course, Frost's. But I really like the poems my friend and I write when we get so mad/sad/scared/depressed. Here is one, it sounds a little like a rap song, 'cause I was just turned on the radio (I never change the station 'cause I'm lazy) and one was playing, so that is how the poem turned out. It is kind of long, but I hope you like it.
Puddle of Rain
Lies, hate, unfaithfulness
These are things that I’ll never miss
Hearing shouting and screaming
Never believing
I could start healing
Till Now!
Now is my time
I’m finally alive
Able to breathe
Able to bleed
All freely
Never being told
My shit’s getting old
Just going and going
GO!
Just Go!
Leave me hear
Along with my fear
It’s mine to deal with
So I deal with it
As it gets closer and closer
WHAM!
It’s hear!
Embracing, tracing
My roots of life
Prying open
Files I never knew I had
Files that are old
Growing with mold
None that can be told
Without pain
In this game
Of this life
In this world
No matter where I turn
I get burned
Feeling this pain I’m surrounded
Pounded
The pounding of the rain
Never near a drain
It’s filling all around
I’m being drowned
One last second to go
Just on
Then I’m done
Done with you
Done with me
You’ll never have to worry
If I’m alive
Whether I’ll survive
That’s gone
I took it away for you
Your money
Your cars
Their yours
I’ll never need ‘em
Now that I’m leavin’
So Goodbye!
I’ll never have to hide
He’ll be by my side
So I won’t be lonely
Without my homie
‘cause he loves me
More than you ever will
‘cause he cares
He shows it
And I know it
He wants the best for me
Not like you
You took it!
Took all I had
I wasn’t even bad
You just had to have
What you couldn’t
So you took it
Now you have it all
But watch
You’ll fall
From the floor to the ground
It’s where you’ll be found
Not with me at least
You don’t even deserve it
You didn’t earn it
But I’m tryin’
Look at ME!
Now I’m cryin’
I can’t take it!
You’re such a bitch!
I can’t stand you
I hate you
I wished I’d never been born!
I can’t believe I said that!
This ain’t my fault
IT’S YOURS
You did this
You made this mess
So clean it up!
No I won’t help
That’s why I’m leavin’
And it’s for good too
‘cause I ain’t comin’ back
Why would I want to?
What asshole would?
But what choice do I have
Stay here treated like shit
Or go into the real world
With people I love
Not hate
That’s such a strong word anyway
But it works for you
You never loved me either
You brought it upon yourself
These results are yours
You reap what you sow
And that’s how it goes
You put in what you
Get back
And you didn’t much
So you don’t deserve shit
How you got something else
We’ll never know
But it pisses me off
Knowing no matter what
I do how I act
You get it back
But not no more
I’m keepin’ it
This is my reward
It ain’t yours but somehow
You’ll get a piece of it
‘cause with me gone
You’ll be happy right?
Well here goes I couldn’t take it
No more
But before I go
Just know
I would of done better
With a real life
Not this mess of Jumble
But it don’t matter now
‘cause where I’m goin
They don’t care
They love me ‘cause I’m there
Not of what I do
Nor of whom I am
But ‘cause I’m me!
Not of whom you want me to be
And I hope I ain’t
‘cause it just fills me up
Knowin’ I pissed you off
By wearin’ all this shit
And not carein’
It proved a point
That a good girl like me
Could dress bad
Then be bad
Without knowin’ what had
Been done to them!
So here I am
Leavin’
Good bye
As I let loose of my last breath
In a puddle of rain
Without a drain.
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