Poetry Thread

[Ben Lehman]

This is a thread to post favorite poems in.  Why?  Because my very favorite is:

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
  Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
  And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
  The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
  The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
  Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
  And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,
  The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
  And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through
  The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
  He went galumphing back.

"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
  Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
  He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
  Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
  And the mome raths outgrabe.



Oh, and

Very fine is my valentine.
Very fine and very mine.
Very mine is my valentine very mine and very fine.
Very fine is my valentine and mine, very fine very mine and mine is my valentine.

[ethan_greer]

This is just to say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

And which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold.

William Carlos Williams

[Clinton R. Nixon]

A short one, from my favorite poet, Leonard Cohen:

"The Reason I Write"

The reason I write
is to create something
as beautiful as you

When I'm with you
I want to be
the kind of man
I wanted to be
when I was six years old

A perfect man, who kills.

[Valamir]

Gaily bedight,  
       A gallant knight,
In sunshine and in shadow,
        Had journeyed long,
        Singing a song,
In search of Eldorado.

        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 Eldorado.

        And, as his strength
        Failed him at length,
He met a pilgrim shadow--
        "Shadow," said he,
        "Where can it be--
This land of Eldorado?"

        "Over the Mountains
        Of the Moon,
Down the Valley of the Shadow,
        Ride, boldly ride,"
        The shade replied,--
"If you seek for Eldorado!"

             POE


This poem was to be the foundation of my western RPG "Ride Boldly Ride", until that durned Vincent released Dogs and made my attempt seem pale and feeble.

The poem still kicks ass though

[Shreyas Sampat]

I thought to pick
the flower of forgetting
for myself,
but I found it
already growing in his heart.

- Yosano Akiko.

[Anonymous]

This is one of my current favorites, mainly because the author was bugshit crazy :)

The Emperor of Ice-Cream

Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

by Wallace Stevens

[Lance D. Allen]

Dreams

Aspirations, far beyond myself
Dreams beyond my means.
I reach for that star, though it lies far,
And imagine the journeys between.

For when the dreamer reaches out a hand,
When the fool cares not for the fall,
Each man who lives, each in turn gives,
For in truth, that yearning is all.


Still Waters Part

When we were young and innocent,
While our days still were long,
Our love was like a burning fire,
And we could do no wrong.

I remember, I remember, I remember those days well,
Oh why did you have to leave me for the fickle oceans swell?
Still Waters Part, Let me go my way,
Let me find my love, and so shall come what may.

You loved me like the man you were,
I loved you like a maid,
But e'en then you felt the sea's allure
and so your fate was laid.

The Sea, she called you away,
away from me and gone,
I've waited forever, and a day,
I still will wait alone.

I remember, I remember, I remember those days well,
Oh why did you have to leave me for the fickle oceans swell?
Still Waters Part, Let me go my way,
Let me join with my love, wherever he may play.

Oh love, I shall see you alive
Every day I pray,
That she who pulled you from my side,
shall release you to me this day.

I stand looking o'er the sea,
My eyes search for your wake,
If I credit what others did see,
I know my heart shall break.

I remember, I remember, I remember those days well,
Oh why did you have to leave me for the fickle oceans swell?
Still Waters Part, Let me go my way,
Let me be joined by my love, only this, I pray.

I seek you now beneath the waves,
I look into the depths,
I know now that you have found your grave,
all my tears have been wept.

I remember, I remember, I remember those days well,
Oh why did you have to leave me for the fickle oceans swell?
Still Waters Part, Your waves no longer crest,
Let me lie now with my love, in his watery peaceful rest.

Both mine, as there was a time when I fancied myself a poet.

[lumpley]

My two favorite poems havn't changed in 15 years, although I can not, at the moment, quote the first one entirely.

Two roads diverged within a yellow wood.....
........and I? I took the one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference.
                                 Robert Frost

The road leads ever on and on
down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the road has gone,
and I must follow if I can.
Pursuing it with eager feet
untill it meets some larger way
where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
                             J.R.R. Tolkein

edit: These are not my poems! I am the haxxord!

-Vincent

[Meguey]

My two favorite poems havn't changed in 15 years, although I can not, at the moment, quote the first one entirely.

Two roads diverged within a yellow wood.....
........and I? I took the one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference.
                                 Robert Frost

The road leads ever on and on
down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the road has gone,
and I must follow if I can.
Pursuing it with eager feet
untill it meets some larger way
where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
                             J.R.R. Tolkein

edit: Hah! I am the accidental haxxor of yoooou! This is what happens when you jump on while I'm in the middle of something. Haxxination for you ^.^

[Jeph]

Habe nun ach! Philosophie,
Juristerei und Medizin
Und leider auch Theologie
Durchaus studiert mit heißem Bemühn.
D steh ich nun, ich armer Tor!
Und bin so klug als wie zuvor;
Heise Magister, heise Doktor gar,
Und ziehe schon an die zehen Jahr
Herauf, herab und quer und krumm
Meiner schüler an die Nase herum—
Un sehe, dass wir nichts wissen können!
Das will mir schier das Herz verbrennen.
Zwar bin ich geschjeiter als allie die Laffen,
Doktoren, Magister, Schreiber und Pfaffen;
Mich plagen keine Skrupel noch Zwiefel,
Furchte mich weder vor Hölle noch Teufel—
Dafur ist mir auch alle Freud entrissen,
Bilde mir nicht ein, was Rechts zu wissen,
Bilde mir nicht ein, ich könnte was lehren,
Auch hab ich weder Gut noch Gelt,
Noch Ehr und Herrlichkeit der Welt.
Es möchte kein Hund so länger leben!
Drum hab ich mich der Magie ergeben,
Ob mir durch Geistes Kraft und Mund
Nicht mansch geheimness würde kund;
Daß ich nicht mehr mit saurem Schweiß
Zu sagen brauche, was ich nicht weiß;
Daß ich erkenne, was die Welt
Im Innersten zusammenhält,
Schau alle Wirkenskraft un Samen
Und tu nicht mehr in Worten kramen.

[Lance D. Allen]

My two favorite poems havn't changed in 15 years, although I can not, at the moment, quote the first one entirely.

Two roads diverged within a yellow wood.....
........and I? I took the one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference.
                                 Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
and sorry was I not to travel both,
and be one traveller; long I stood,
and looked down one as far as I could,
then took the other as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim,
for it was grassy and wanted wear,
though as for that the passing there,
had trod them both as just the same,
but I took the one less traveled by,
and that has made all the difference.

The best I can do, from memory, Vincent.. or... Meguey? Whoever's poems they were.

[TonyLB]

Ulysses[/u], Alfred, Lord Tennyson.  

Too big to quote in its entirety, but that's okay, because the opening is (for me) just build-up to this, the poem's end:

... Old age hath yet his honor and his toil.
Death closes all; but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with gods.

The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks;
The long day wanes; the slow moon climbs; the deep
Moans round with many voices.  Come, my friends,
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.

Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.

It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

[efindel]

Here's one that's been on my mind lately:

They nailed my shadow to the ground there
So I left it in that place
There's nothing left but a shell here
That sometimes wears my face.

[greyorm]

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

- Dylan Thomas

That about sums it all up for me. In fact, you could burn that stanza into the cover of Orx and tattoo it on me, as well.

[joshua neff]

That's one of my all-time favorite poems, Raven. Good call.

Another favorite of mine:

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
--the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

--e.e. cummings