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.
Cassiopiea Reviewed by Cassiopiea on . Poetry? 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 Rating: 5