Favorite Poetry

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Favorite Poetry

Post by FeedSpider » Fri Apr 03, 2009 10:07 pm

So, i've been reciting a lot of poetry, recording it, and submitting it on my art site. Actually, they've recieved quite a welcome. Lots of people like listening to them. Apparently i'm pretty good. ^^;

I've done The Walrus and the Carpenter, How Doth the Little Crocodile, The Jabberwocky, and Anabelle Lee. I'm working on The Raven. I'm aaaalmost there.

But
I was wondering, what are your favorite poems, if any? I need new ideas, unless i'm just gonna start reading my own poetry. Which would work okay for me anyway.
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Post by ASDF4President » Fri Apr 03, 2009 10:17 pm

Don't really care for poetry...

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Post by Shai'tan » Sat Apr 04, 2009 12:27 am

Me neither I'm afraid... :|
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Post by FeedSpider » Sat Apr 04, 2009 7:48 am

>__>
This is what I get for hanging out in forums populated by teenage guys.
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Post by keja » Sat Apr 04, 2009 8:27 am

Poem for Axl Rose (not by me)

The Stars in the Sky exist in his Eyes
A Smile full of Mischief... it would seem..
I've Seen Him light up a crowd with This kinda crazy magnetic energy
Some would say he is up to No Good, Selfish and Angry.
Well... There is something that maybe no one knows
And here is what I see..
He has more love and care than any man
bet you never guessed..
He Ain't quite the Dog he Was always Made out to Be
A Man with such a Kind Heart
I don't think he even knows
Just how he really saved me
You Know...
I was once filled with A Deep Sadness
Nothing but Darkness and Pain
In the Moment That I needed Him
There he was...
Then I began to see this light and
Somehow He showed Me Another way
Now I laugh ... I am open
And I see just how good life can be
If I Could have one wish...
It would Be an Honor to show my gratitude
For all the things I know He's done..Just bein' who he is
Oh..If he could only see
How far I've really come
How He Inspires and What it means to Me
I am the son and heir
Of nothing in particular

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Post by FeedSpider » Sat Apr 04, 2009 8:31 am

O.o
Thank you for actually being useful, Keja.
Thats why you're Keja, and everyone else is them.

And i'm FeedSpider. So we're special together. Super special.
In fact.

We're superspecial awesome.
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Post by keja » Sat Apr 04, 2009 8:33 am

yeah, poetry is great...
I am the son and heir
Of nothing in particular

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Post by Shai'tan » Sat Apr 04, 2009 12:36 pm

:|


xD


You could always read some Shakespeare :P
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Post by atomtengeralattjaro » Sat Apr 04, 2009 6:56 pm

József Attila: Szeretném, ha vadalmafa lennék!

Szeretném, ha vadalmafa lennék!
Terebélyes vadalmafa;
S hogy testemből jóllakhatna
Minden éhező kis gyermek
Árnyaimmal betakarva.

Szeretném, ha vadalmafa lennék
S minden egyes árva gyermek,
Ha keserű könnye pereg,
Felkeresné s könnyeivel
Öntözné meg a tövemet.

Szeretném, ha vadalmafa lennék,
Mi ha majd egykor kiszárad
És a tél apó kivágat,
Lángjaival felszárítná
Könnyeit a bús árváknak.

S ha csakugyan vadalmafa lennék,
Volna öröm a földön és
Sehol semmi bú, szenvedés
S a mosolygó fejeket nem
Bántaná az elköltözés.

1921. ápr. 12.
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Post by Shai'tan » Sat Apr 04, 2009 7:15 pm

Google Translate wrote:József Attila: I want you to be vadalmafa!

I want you to be vadalmafa!
Vadalmafa spacious;
And to my body jóllakhatna
All hungry little children
Árnyaimmal betakarva.

I want you to be vadalmafa
And each child is an orphan,
If Pereg bitter tears,
Visit and tears
Watered the tövemet.

I want you to be vadalmafa,
What if I was dehydrated
And the father of winter cut,
Flames felszárítná
Tears of sad orphans.

And if you'd be vadalmafa,
Have joy in the earth and
Nowhere in any sorrow, suffering
And the heads are not smiling
Abuse of the migration.

1921. apr. 12.
:|
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Post by Suntro » Sat Apr 04, 2009 11:06 pm

I always liked the Raven :3

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Post by Shai'tan » Sat Apr 04, 2009 11:42 pm

Edgar Allan Poe wrote: The Raven


Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
[First published in 1845]
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Post by FeedSpider » Sun Apr 05, 2009 12:16 am

*nod*
I'm working on the Raven. I just finished it, but its got some strange pauses in it, so i might do it again.
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Post by Shai'tan » Sun Apr 05, 2009 1:47 am

It's... long...
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atomtengeralattjaro wrote:The Forums of ASDF turn, and Pages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Page that gave it birth comes again. On one Page, called the Six Hundred and Ninety Fifth Page by some, a Page yet to come, a Page long past, a post was made by atomtengeralattjaro. The post was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Forums of ASDF. But it was a beginning.

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Post by FeedSpider » Sun Apr 05, 2009 2:26 am

Very much so.
6 minutes about.
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Post by keja » Sun Apr 05, 2009 10:38 am

that's a good poem. I wish I could have done one like that a school instead of an assortment of poems about nationality.
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Post by Shai'tan » Sun Apr 05, 2009 11:03 am

I had about poems in the English classes recently... We had to make our own :|
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Post by atomtengeralattjaro » Sun Apr 05, 2009 1:02 pm

Shai'tan wrote:
Google Translate wrote:József Attila: I want you to be vadalmafa!

I want you to be vadalmafa!
Vadalmafa spacious;
And to my body jóllakhatna
All hungry little children
Árnyaimmal betakarva.

I want you to be vadalmafa
And each child is an orphan,
If Pereg bitter tears,
Visit and tears
Watered the tövemet.

I want you to be vadalmafa,
What if I was dehydrated
And the father of winter cut,
Flames felszárítná
Tears of sad orphans.

And if you'd be vadalmafa,
Have joy in the earth and
Nowhere in any sorrow, suffering
And the heads are not smiling
Abuse of the migration.

1921. apr. 12.
:|
it's about "I want to be a wild apple tree".. :?
(and no it's not my fav. poem, i just looked it up.)

Looking forward to read some Poe.
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Post by CX gamer » Sun Apr 05, 2009 1:10 pm

I'm not really in to poems, but I think this topic could use a bump... ;)
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Post by patrick2456 » Sun Apr 05, 2009 1:12 pm

me too im not really into poems, but considering it's art i kinda want to learn it
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