Poetry?

[Cassiopiea]

Any of you motha's into poetry. Not like "street poetry" but the real stuff like Blake, T.S Eliot or Gerard Manley Hopkins?

My favourite poem is the Love song of J.Alfred Prufrock by T.S Eliot, and this is the first stanza of it.

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question â?¦
Oh, do not ask, â??What is it?â?�
Let us go and make our visit.

[smoke it]

ya. poetry kicks ass

[Cassiopiea]

Man you guys are unclultured bastards.

j/k.

[Ae...]

I enjoy it very much. Once you get into the story and rythm, it becomes better than radio or televison ever could be. Heh. I envy how they use words to convey such thought. Poets like Blake, Milton, Wordsworth, even Andrew Marvell are unmatched today.

Although I'll admit that I probably miss a lot of biblical references since I am not familiar with Christianity. To me that is part of the fun of reading poetry, I am always finding new things in it everytime I re-read passages.

http://www.pitt.edu/~ulin/Paradise/
http://www.luminarium.org/lumina.htm

[birdgirl73]

My two personal favorites are Emily Dickinson and John Keats.

[Cassiopiea]

Man this is cool, why dont some of us bad-ass motha-poets post our favourite poems, as i intend to get stoned tonight and browse the wonderful English language, here is a good one from the human being with the greatest command of rhyme and rhythym ever born, Gerard Manley Hopkins.

The Windhover


To Christ our Lord


I caught this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird,—the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! And the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times more lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion

By Gerard Manley Hopkins.

EDIT: Fuck thats beautiful.

[BabyFacedAbortion]

I like writing poetry, better than reading it. But e.e cummings is by far my favourite.

[birdgirl73]

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

Or rather, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity

"Because I Could Not Stop for Death" is one of my favorites by Emily Dickinson. Some call it morbid, but I find it beautiful and peaceful.

[Cassiopiea]

I agree with you, it makes death seem mysterious yet reassuring. i have to be honest ive never read and Dickinson but this has piqued my interest.

And babyfaceabortion, why dont you post some of your poetry?

[smoke it]

i cant write poetry at all, but i like emily dickinson and robert frost