Passing Stranger
970 QA Reputation18 | awesomefreak said 10 years, 10 months ago: Alone ~by Edgar Allan Poe From childhood’s hour I have not been As others were; I have not seen As others saw; I could not bring My passions from a common spring. From the same source I have not taken My sorrow; I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone; And all I loved, I loved alone. Then- in my childhood, in the dawn Of a most stormy life- was drawn From every depth of good and ill The mystery which binds me still: From the torrent, or the fountain, From the red cliff of the mountain, From the sun that round me rolled In its autumn tint of gold, From the lightning in the sky As it passed me flying by, From the thunder and the storm, And the cloud that took the form (When the rest of Heaven was blue) Of a demon in my view. | |
Passing Stranger
720 QA Reputation45 | itsabank said 10 years, 10 months ago: Like so many others on here, I can’t think of just one poet, or just one poem, that I would call my favorite. Here’s one I really like: The Waking by Theodore Roethke I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I feel my fate in what I cannot fear. I learn by going where I have to go. We think by feeling. What is there to know? I hear my being dance from ear to ear. I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. Of those so close beside me, which are you? God bless the Ground! I shall walk softly there, And learn by going where I have to go. Light takes the Tree; but who can tell us how? The lowly worm climbs up a winding stair; I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. Great Nature has another thing to do To you and me; so take the lively air, And, lovely, learn by going where to go. This shaking keeps me steady. I should know. What falls away is always. And is near. I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow. I learn by going where I have to go. | |
Passing Stranger
335 QA Reputation0 | Therapy Mark said 10 years, 10 months ago: My first poetry: “Doesn’t matter from what part of the world comes the love as long as you are in love for real.” My second one: “I’m addicted to your love.” | |
Newbie
0 QA Reputation0 | Deleted User said 10 years, 10 months ago: “The Moon is distant from the Sea” The Moon is distant from the Sea – And yet, with Amber Hands – She leads Him – docile as a Boy – Along appointed Sands – He never misses a Degree – Obedient to Her eye – He comes just so far – toward the Town – Just so far – goes away – Oh, Signor, Thine, the Amber Hand – And mine – the distant Sea – Obedient to the least command Thine eye impose on me – -Emily Dickinson | |
Familiar Face
2943 QA Reputation22 | blackdog said 10 years, 10 months ago: I have many favorites but a couple in english are If by Kipling 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! And the Tomorrow speech from Macbeth | |
Familiar Face
1739 QA Reputation391 | Chwati:) said 10 years, 10 months ago: Leisure What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare. No time to stand beneath the boughs And stare as long as sheep or cows. No time to see, when woods we pass, Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass. No time to see, in broad daylight, Streams full of stars, like skies at night. No time to turn at Beauty’s glance, And watch her feet, how they can dance. No time to wait till her mouth can Enrich that smile her eyes began. A poor life this is if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare. -William Henry Davies My favourite poem since grade 4. Yes, grade 4!! | |
Passing Stranger
455 QA Reputation0 | Annie. said 10 years, 10 months ago: When my time has come I want none to compliment me Not even you I don’t need that sniveling! I’m but a wild animal From an exiled group Even if bullets pierce my skin I will still enrage and attack Wounds and poison I’ll take running Running Until the pain leaves And I will care even less I want to live a thousand more years Chairil Anwar. It’s actually not an English poetry so it sort of sound weird in English but I have always loved this poetry. | |
Passing Stranger
340 QA Reputation0 | Oblivisci said 10 years, 10 months ago: My favourite poem in the English language, these days, is “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Eliot. It is maybe a bit too long to post in full length here, but you can find it there: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse/6/3#!/20570428/5 The last verse is quite well-known: “I have seen them riding seaward on the waves Combing the white hair of the waves blown back When the wind blows the water white and black. We have lingered in the chambers of the sea By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown Till human voices wake us, and we drown.” | |
Newbie
0 QA Reputation152 | Happy raindrop said 10 years, 9 months ago: Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou Pretty women wonder where my secret lies. I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size But when I start to tell them, They think I’m telling lies. I say, It’s in the reach of my arms, The span of my hips, The stride of my step, The curl of my lips. I’m a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That’s me. I walk into a room Just as cool as you please, And to a man, The fellows stand or Fall down on their knees. Then they swarm around me, A hive of honey bees. I say, It’s the fire in my eyes, And the flash of my teeth, The swing in my waist, And the joy in my feet. I’m a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That’s me. Men themselves have wondered What they see in me. They try so much But they can’t touch My inner mystery. When I try to show them, They say they still can’t see. I say, It’s in the arch of my back, The sun of my smile, The ride of my breasts, The grace of my style. I’m a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That’s me. Now you understand Just why my head’s not bowed. I don’t shout or jump about Or have to talk real loud. When you see me passing, It ought to make you proud. I say, It’s in the click of my heels, The bend of my hair, the palm of my hand, The need for my care. ’Cause I’m a woman Phenomenally. Phenomenal woman, That’s me. | |
Passing Stranger
682 QA Reputation29 | Vollie said 10 years, 9 months ago: This one is my favorite recently :3 Ars Poetica(cocoons) by Dana Levin Six monarch butterfly cocoons clinging to the back of your throat— you could feel their gold wings trembling. You were alarmed. You felt infested. In the downstairs bathroom of the family home, gagging to spit them out— and a voice saying Don’t, don’t— | |