Whats your favorite poem?

my favorite poet is Ady Endre.I love his poetry.

In front of Good Prince Silence

I walk the forest in the moonlight
and whistle through my chattering teeth
stalking behind me ten feet tall
Good Prince Silence -
"mercy" - I tremble, dare not turn.

"Mercy" - I tremble, dare not turn,
and dare not gaze up, up to the moon:
one false movement, one needless sound -
and Good Prince Silence
would step on me and tread me down.

This is my fav.Do you have a favorite poem?

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32 replies since 16th January 2010 • Last reply 16th January 2010

That's a lovely poem Violetta

My favorite poem is from Oodgeroo Noonuccal. She's an Indigenous Australian and was a Poet, Childrens Author, Political Activist and Artist. As I am an Indigenous Australian too, her poems seem to sing how I'm feeling.

Song of Hope

Look up, my people,
The dawn is breaking,
The world is waking,
To a new bright day,
When none defame us,
Nor colour shame us,
Nor sneer dismay.

Now brood no more
On the years behind you,
The hope assigned you
Shall the past replace,
When juster justice
Grown wise and stronger
Points the bone no longer
At a darker race.

So long we waited
Bound and frustrated,
Till hate be hated
And caste deposed;
Now light shall guide us,
And all doors open
That long were closed

See plain the promise,
Dark freedom-lover!
Night's nearly over,
And though long the climb,
New rights will greet us,
New mateship meet us,
And joy complete us
In our new Dream Time.

To our father's fathers
The pain, the sorrow;
To our children's children
The glad tomorrow.

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Hello. One of my favourite poems is Warning by Jenny Joseph. I'm growing old disgracefully. Also like John Hegley and Shelley


When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in the shops and press alarms
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes

but now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When I suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple

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Hey Violetta! That's a beautyful poem. I was suprised to see Ady Endre's name here, because I am Hungarian so i knoww his name well Happy

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I have Jenny Joseph's Warning on a postcard lol=)

My tastes in poetry are a bit varied, I like John Donne's poetry, a favourite being The Good-Morrow (I did an altered book on that one)

I wonder, by my troth, what thou and I
Did til we lov'd? Were we not wean'd til then?
But suck'd on country pleasures childishly?
Or snorted we in the seven sleepers' den?
Twas so; but this, all pleasures fancies be
If ever any beauty I did see
Which I desir'd, and got, twas but a dream of thee.

Just the first verse, it's all I can remember off the top of my head lol. I also like nonsense poetry like Lewis Carroll's Jabberwocky or stuff by Edward Lear.
Oh and Albert and the Lion by Ogden Nash=)

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Hi Laurel

Are you following me? LOL

I like Jabberwocky too.....erm I have a copy that I put on my daughter's wall

See what you think to this poem


Come run with me through the fields of my dreams
Rest a while by the cool mountain stream
And under a diamond filled sky
In my arms you can lie
Till the glow of morning light touches our faces
Come with me
I will take you to many places

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That seems really familiar, but I can't place it=/ I am relatively new to "proper" poetry though lol

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Thanks for introducing me with Jenny Joseph,Im deffinetly going to look her poetry up. Happy
And Kata, Im Hungarian too, so thats how i know about him...

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Here is a József Attila poem I also like:

With a pure heart.

Without father without mother
without God or homeland either
without crib or coffin-cover
without kisses or a lover

for the third day - without fussing
I have eaten next to nothing.
My store of power are my years
I sell all my twenty years.

Perhaps, if no else will
the buyer will be the devil.
With a pure heart - that's a job:
I may kill and I shall rob.

They'll catch me, hang me high
in blessed earth I shall lie,
and poisonous grass will start
to grow on my beautiful heart.

Translated by Thomas Kabde

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Hi Laurel
An Invitation is one of mine. Thought you might like to see it. Thanks for calling it 'proper' poetry. I feel really giddy now ;-)

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Lol, I must have imagined it being familiar then, though the first line reminded me slightly of Marlowe (Come live with me and be my love).
I can't write poetry for toffee, I tried when I was younger but it was dire=)

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This is a great thread Happy I've been trying to find a copy of one of my favourite poems but can't remember the title. Its by Christina Rossetti about unrequited love. I also John Hegley too and Stevie Smith and Wendy Cope. I'll post one up a bit later but at the moment I can't make my mind up which one.

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I'm loving Rossetti at the moment- try this site, it has loads of poems, plus biography and context:

I've just finished The Goblin Market, which is fantastically strange and dark:

But my all time fave would be Shakespeare:

My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
I have seen roses damask'd, red and white,
But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
And in some perfumes is there more delight
Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
I grant I never saw a goddess go;
My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground:
And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
As any she belied with false compare.

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Hi Arty KitKat
I've been to writer's workshops with John Hegley & got some stuff he wrote on the day but didn't publish. We made mini poet-tree books. He's a really down to earth guy. Love his audience participation piece Amoeba. Couldn't put it in print as couldn't do it justice x

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Not so much a poem, but my favourite piece of inspirational writing.


Go placidly amid the noise and the haste and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly, and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself to others you may become vain and bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the World is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere is full of heroism.
Be yourself, especially in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture the strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the Universe, no less than the trees and the stars, you have a right to be here, and whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the Universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive him to be; and whatever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul.
With all its shams, drudgery and broken dreams, it’s still a beautiful World.

Be Cheerful, Strive to be Happy…

Max Ehrmann

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