Post Your Favorite Poems Of Your Favorite Poets

[Kishi Uzumaki]

There have been lot of great poets in the world like William Shakespeare, Edgar Allen Poe, Rabindaranath Tagore,Emily Dickinson and Maya Angelou so you may have a favorite poet too then post their poems that's your favorites here so others can read and ones writing poems around here can add somethings to their writing skills as well by reading them .

and it doesn't matter which language it is but if you can try to post a translation with it as well .


If You Forget Me by Pablo Neruda

Spoiler

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Evening Star by Edgar Allan Poe

Spoiler

'Twas noontide of summer,
And mid-time of night;
And stars, in their orbits,
Shone pale, thro' the light
Of the brighter, cold moon,
'Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
Her beam on the waves.

I gazed awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold- too cold for me-
There pass'd, as a shroud,
A fleecy cloud,
And I turned away to thee,
Proud Evening Star,
In thy glory afar,
And dearer thy beam shall be;
For joy to my heart
Is the proud part
Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
And more I admire
Thy distant fire,
Than that colder, lowly light.

Alone by Maya Angelou

Spoiler

Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don't believe I'm wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.


Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.


There are some millionaires
With money they can't use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They've got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.

But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.


Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.


Now if you listen closely
I'll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
'Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.


Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Enjoy these few poems for now and post your favorite poems as well

 

[Reraru]

William Shakespeare, Edgar Allen Poe I like their poems.

I love this part of one.

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

 

[Nyanmaru]

Pablo Neruda

Spoiler

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.​

Edgar Allan Poe​

Spoiler

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my Annabel Lee—
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

SPOKEN WORD POETS​

Sarah Kay​

Spoiler

I had already fallen in love with far too many postage stamps
When you appeared on my doorstep wearing nothing but a postcard promise -
No, appear, is the wrong word…

Is there a word for sucker punching someone in the heart?

Is there a word for when you’re sitting at a bottom of a rollercoaster
And you realize that the climb is coming
And you know what the climb means
And you can already feel the flip in your stomach from the fall before you even moved?

Is there a word for that?
There should be.

You can only fit so many words in a postcard
Only so many in a phone call
Only so many into space
Before you forget that words are sometimes used for things other than filling emptiness.

It’s hard to build a body out of words.
I have tried.
We have both… tried.

Instead of… holding your head to my chest
I tell you about the boy who lives downstairs from me
Who stays up all night long practicing his drumset.
And neighbours have complained… they have busy days tomorrow,
But he keeps on thumping through the night
Convinced, I think, that practice makes perfect.

Instead of holding my hand
You tell me about the sandwich you ate for lunch today.
How the pickles sit so perfectly with the lettuce.
Practice does not make perfect.
Practice makes permanent.

Repeat the same mistakes over and over.
You don’t get any closer to Carnegie Hall.. even I know that.
Repeat the same mistakes over and over.
You don’t get any closer.
You never get any closer.

Is there a word for the moment you win tug of war
When the weight gives
And all that extra rope comes hurtling towards you?
How even though you’ve won
You still wind up with muddy knees and burns on your hands?

Is there a word for that?
I wish there was.

I want to say it
When we’re finally together on your couch
And neither one of us with anything left to say.

Still now, I send letters into space
Hoping that some mailman somewhere will track you down
And recognize you from the description in my poems,
And he will place a stack of them in your hands and tells you,
“There is a girl who still writes you
She doesn’t know… how not to.”​

Phil Kaye (i think i'm in love with him, too xd)

Spoiler

My mother taught me this trick
If you repeat something over and over again it loses its meaning
For example:
Homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework, homework
See, nothing
Our existence, she said, is the same way.
You watch the sun set too often, it just becomes 6 PM
You make the same mistake over and over; you’ll stop calling it a mistake
If you just
wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up,
one day you’ll forget why
Nothing is forever, she said
My parents left each other when I was 7 years old
Before their last argument they sent me off to the neighbor’s house,
like some astronaut jettisoned from the shuttle.
When I came back there was no gravity in our home, beds floating
I imagined it as an accident, that when I left
They whispered to each other “I love you” so many times over
that they forgot what it meant
Family, family, family, family, family, family
My mother taught me this trick
If you repeat something over and over again it loses its meaning
This became my favorite game
It made the sting of words evaporate.
Separation, separation, separation;
see, nothing
Apart, apart, apart;
see, nothing
I am an injured handyman now
I work with words all day
Shut up, I know the irony!
When I was young, I was taught that the trick to dominating language
was breaking it down
Convincing it that it was worthless
I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you;
See, nothing
Soon after my parents’ divorce, I developed a stutter
Fate is a cruel and efficient tutor
There is no escape in stutter
You feel the meaning of every word drag itself up your throat
S-s-s-separation
Stutter is a cage made of mirrors
Every “Are you ok?”
Every “What’d you say?”
Every “Come on kid, spit it out”
Is a glaring reflection you cannot escape
Every terrible moment skips upon its own announcement
Over and over until it just hangs there,
floating in the middle of the room
Mom, Dad,
I am not wasteful with my words anymore.
Even now after hundreds of hours of practicing away my stutter,
I still feel the claw of meaning in the bottom of my throat.
I have heard that even in space;
You can hear the scratching of a
I-I-I-I love you.​

​

These are just some

 

[Ryu Kishi]

i like this
Do not go gentle into that good night
Dylan Thomas, 1914 - 1953

Spoiler

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.​

 

[Kishi Uzumaki]

William Shakespeare, Edgar Allen Poe I like their poems.

I love this part of one.

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

The Raven as i remember, it's a long poem

You must be registered for see links

 

[Ken Kaneki]

I like Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge a lot. I can relate to it sometimes . my fav lines are :-

Water water everywhere,
And all the boards did shrink.
Water water everywhere,
Not a drop to drink

Alone, alone, all, all alone,
Alone on a wide wide sea!
And never a saint took pity on
My soul in agony.

 

[awesomeseimei]

Honestly, they don't translate well - neither the text itself nor the meaning (as they are mostly heavily historical period-inspired).

 

[Waindo]

This thread is like words porn. :x3:
*sits back and waits for someone to quote his poems*

 

[Kishi Uzumaki]

A Song Of Despair by Pablo Neruda

Spoiler

The memory of you emerges from the night around me.
The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea.

Deserted like the wharves at dawn.
It is the hour of departure, oh deserted one!

Cold flower heads are raining over my heart.
Oh pit of debris, fierce cave of the shipwrecked.

In you the wars and the flights accumulated.
From you the wings of the song birds rose.

You swallowed everything, like distance.
Like the sea, like time. In you everything sank!

It was the happy hour of assault and the kiss.
The hour of the spell that blazed like a lighthouse.

Pilot's dread, fury of blind driver,
turbulent drunkenness of love, in you everything sank!

In the childhood of mist my soul, winged and wounded.
Lost discoverer, in you everything sank!

You girdled sorrow, you clung to desire,
sadness stunned you, in you everything sank!

I made the wall of shadow draw back,
beyond desire and act, I walked on.

Oh flesh, my own flesh, woman whom I loved and lost,
I summon you in the moist hour, I raise my song to you.

Like a jar you housed infinite tenderness.
and the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar.

There was the black solitude of the islands,
and there, woman of love, your arms took me in.

There was thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit.
There were grief and ruins, and you were the miracle.

Ah woman, I do not know how you could contain me
in the earth of your soul, in the cross of your arms!

How terrible and brief my desire was to you!
How difficult and drunken, how tensed and avid.

Cemetery of kisses, there is still fire in your tombs,
still the fruited boughs burn, pecked at by birds.

Oh the bitten mouth, oh the kissed limbs,
oh the hungering teeth, oh the entwined bodies.

Oh the mad coupling of hope and force
in which we merged and despaired.

And the tenderness, light as water and as flour.
And the word scarcely begun on the lips.

This was my destiny and in it was my voyage of my longing,
and in it my longing fell, in you everything sank!

Oh pit of debris, everything fell into you,
what sorrow did you not express, in what sorrow are you not drowned!

From billow to billow you still called and sang.
Standing like a sailor in the prow of a vessel.

You still flowered in songs, you still brike the currents.
Oh pit of debris, open and bitter well.

Pale blind diver, luckless slinger,
lost discoverer, in you everything sank!

It is the hour of departure, the hard cold hour
which the night fastens to all the timetables.

The rustling belt of the sea girdles the shore.
Cold stars heave up, black birds migrate.

Deserted like the wharves at dawn.
Only tremulous shadow twists in my hands.

Oh farther than everything. Oh farther than everything.

It is the hour of departure. Oh abandoned one!

This thread is like words porn. :x3:
*sits back and waits for someone to quote his poems*

I had to left out some poems of Pablo Neruda, if not this thread gonna be like your thread while back

and they won't too many good ones, it will confuse them lol