[ SECRET POST #2598 ]

[case]

⌈ Secret Post #2598 ⌋

Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.

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Notes:

Secrets Left to Post: 02 pages, 031 secrets from Secret Submission Post #371.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 1 - broken links ], [ 0 - not!secrets ], [ 0 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 0 - repeat ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.

Comments

What's your favourite poem?

[rubbertea]

Let's ignore the wankbait thread above and focus on pretty things

I don't know enough about poetry to have an all-time favourite but so far I really like Keats's 'A Song about Myself'

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[(Anonymous)]

I've never seen a purple cow
I hope I'll never meet one
But I can tell you anyhow
I'd rather see one than be one.

My dad used to say that one to me all the time when I was little. Yes, he was very silly <3

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[rubbertea]

Aw, that's adorable!

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[vethica]

Oh dang, I like that Keats one! So joyful and bouncy. *_*

I don't have an all-time favorite poem either, but recently I've been very fond of Edna St. Vincent Millay's "The Penitent".

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[sarillia]

Can I say poets instead of poems? Dorothy Parker, Wislawa Szymborska, Billy Collins, Nikki Giovanni, G.K. Chesterton

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[(Anonymous)]

I'm not a big reader of poetry (being an uncultured philistine, heh) but have always had a soft spot for Housman, especially Loveliest of Trees.

LOVELIEST of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.

Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.

And since to look at things in bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.

Not very complex, I know, but I like it :)

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[(Anonymous)]

Tolkien's translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[iceyred]

The Highwayman

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/171940

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[(Anonymous)]

I like Robinson Jeffers a lot. His poems can be kind of unpleasant, and he can definitely be arrogant and even unlikeable - but I find his poems really beautiful, and in a strange way comforting. Probably my favorite poem of his is To The Stone-Cutters:

Stone-cutters fighting time with marble, you foredefeated
Challengers of oblivion
Eat cynical earnings, knowing rock splits, records fall down,
The square-limbed Roman letters
Scale in the thaws, wear in the rain. The poet as well
Builds his monument mockingly;
For man will be blotted out, the blithe earth die, the brave sun
Die blind and blacken to the heart:
Yet stones have stood for a thousand years, and pained thoughts found
The honey of peace in old poems.

Here's a bunch of Youtubes of him reading various poems (he had a fantastic voice):

Hurt Hawks - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UEdoMvh5S6o
Wise Men In Their Bad Hours - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VVkYZzkHiUg
Night - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fGJJogI3Vy0
To The Stone-Cutters - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pT2rtoXq5JY

Yeah. He was cool.

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[ryttu3k]

Prufrock!

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[the_missing_y]

I'm always going on about this one, but I really do love Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and 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 vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with 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 own 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 life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for 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 strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark 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 labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

Desiderata - Max Ehrmann

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[forgottenjester]

I know I mentioned one Shakespeare one I liked a while back so I'll pick another one. Baring the ones I wrote myself I like quite a few. There's one I really wanna post but I've forgotten most of it and I'm not sure I could find it right now. Therefor, I think I'll post this one. I like The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[(Anonymous)]

not big on poetry in general, but for some reason i've always loved The Garden of Proserpine (http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/174555). Particularly:

We are not sure of sorrow,
And joy was never sure;
To-day will die to-morrow;
Time stoops to no man's lure;
And love, grown faint and fretful,
With lips but half regretful
Sighs, and with eyes forgetful
Weeps that no loves endure.

From too much love of living,
From hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no life lives for ever;
That dead men rise up never;
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[(Anonymous)]

I adore Lewis Carroll's Jabberwocky. It's one of the few poems that I have memorized by heart just for fun because I love the use of made up words in that poem. It feels like I am chewing bubble gum in my mouth whenever I say it.

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[(Anonymous)]

She walks in beauty like the night, and also She dwelt among the untrodden ways. I like ines with both meter and rhyme.

We had a book called "best loved poems of the american people"--i think it was based on things people had written to a magazine to have identified? I loved it because it has such a great variety, both great poets and more homely simple poems. Theres one about friendship i love--part of it goes

I never make diagrams of him
No maps of his soul have i penned
I dont analyze--i just love him
Because--well, because hes my friend!

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[(Anonymous)]

Gerard Manley Hopkins' The Windhover:

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 told 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.


I'm also fond of John Donne's Holy Sonnets, Invictus (http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/invictus/) by William Ernest Henley, Noyes' 'Highwayman' which I think someone already mentioned, the nonsense poetry of Edward Lear (my granddad used to read it to us as kids), Robert Service's The Cremation of Sam McGee (http://ingeb.org/songs/thereare.html), parts of "The World Doesn't End" by Charles Simic, Sea Fever (http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/242552) by John Masefield ...

Um. I like poetry. There are lots?

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[diet_poison]

"High Flight" by Gillespie Magee is fo sho my fav

disclaimer: I'm not in any way an experienced poetry connoisseur. I just. REALLY like this poem. It also inspired a song that was one of my favorite concert band pieces in middle/high school.

I have always loved both nature/the outdoors and airplanes/flight, so that, plus the whole music thing, just...I love this a lot. The spiritual aspect really resonates with me as well.

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth...

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[(Anonymous)]

That scientist poem that's all over tumblr is my current favorite, because I'm a hopeless romantic at heart. I'm still not sure where the poem came from.

I am not a poet.
I am a scientist.
I can measure the exact frequency
of your voice when you speak my name,
but I cannot explain how it resonates
with such perfect clarity down my spine.
I can describe the process by which you inherited
your mother’s hair
and your father’s smile,
but I cannot explain where the twinkling galaxies
in your eyes came from.
I am baffled by the apparent gravitational anomaly
that draws me to you
with a force far too great for your size.
I know of no way to quantify
the volume of your presence
in a room.

I am not a poet.
I am a scientist.
Prose is not my specialty.
I will never be able to combine words
to craft sonorous verses
as easily as I combine chemicals in a flask,
but know this — to me, you are every bit as fascinating
as the view through a microscope.
To me, you are a mystery greater
than any cat in a box,
and are fraught with as much uncertainty.
Each day brings new understanding of you,
and the knowledge
that there is still far more
to discover.

I am not a poet.
I am a scientist,
and there is nothing a scientist loves more
than the the pursuit
of discovery.

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[(Anonymous)]

I couldn't find an english translation for my favourite poem, but since I love the author of said poem here's an example of his work

The Dead of Lidice

Homing swallow vainly seeks her loft,
round and round with plaintive tweet she flies.
yet the trees, like giant scepters cleft,
tower silent into leaden skies.

You down there, whose heels the clay bed deepen,
where the path to depthless crater yields,
striding through the darkness, arms flung open,
as though scattering seeds into your fields -

Lark alone on your deep grave attending;
he is nearer you than is our ear,
he hears all that passes understanding,
and in his note you may sometimes hear

song of clay, with stifling burden binding
lips about to utter words of flame,
song of stone, your upright head surrounding,
and the silence which enshrouds your name -

Song of anguish, as your children, weeping,
to the dark grey waiting trucks they led,
when you saw the pit of madness gaping
and for madness time had long fled -

Song of terror that no terror matches,
wild-eyed women gripping door and fence
as drowning man a straw haulm clutches
as salvation's one and only chance -

Song of silence, startling, and still deeper
when last faint breath has died away;
song of all the glory of this people
on whose nameless graves we step today.

Now the lark's song, clear and tranquil, rises
up from the plain like any other day -
But the roses, melancholy roses
trodden underfoot, still dot the day.

J. Seifert

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[(Anonymous)]

So, I can't pick a favorite but the one that I really liked as a kid was "Even This Shall Pass Away" by Theodore Tilton. Another poem I remember liking was "The Blind Men and the Elephant" by John Godfrey Saxe.

I also liked poems that played off each other. So, while "Casey at Bat" is a great poem, I really liked the two sequels to that poem (written by two other poets) that let Casey have a happy ending. Stuff like that was always fun to me.

I also really enjoyed Edgar Allan Poe as a kid. I love gloomy, atmospheric, depressing stuff.

In college, I was introduced to Lewis Carrol and I've kind of been kicking myself for not finding his stuff earlier since I adore words and language and stuff like that, which he plays with so well.

And though I read it in prose form, I really adored the Old English poem "The Wanderer". I just thought it was beautiful. I'm also seconding "Sir Gawain and The Green Knight". I love Tolkien but I haven't read his version. The version I did read was amazing. It's such a wonderful poem.

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[lynx]

I love TS Eliot, and I think Maiakovsky is beautiful. "Alone with Everybody" by Bukowsky also resonates deeply within me. But my favorite poem is the Canto II of Huidobro's Altazor, which I translated into English some years ago here. (This translation is from 2007, so I apologize if my English was too clunky back then). I'll copy-paste only a couple of stanzas because it's damn long >>;;


Woman, the world is furnish'd by your eyes
The sky goes higher in your presence
The earth prolongs itself from rose to rose
And the air prolongs itself from dove to dove

When you leave you place a star instead
You let your lights fall as the passing ship
While my song follows you
As a faithful and melancholic snake
And you turn your head from some star

Which combat is being unleashed in the space?
Those spears of light between the planets

Mirage of unmercyful armors
Which bloodied star won't let you pass?
Where are you, sad nightwalker
Giver of infinity
Who strolls in the forest of the dreams

Here I am, lost between deserted seas
Alone as the feather falling from a night bird
Here I am in a tower of coldness
Warmed by the memory of your maritime lips
By the memory of your surrenders and your hair
Glowing and unleashed as the mountain rivers
Were you going to be blind, so God gave you those hands?
I’m asking you again

[...]

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[tabaqui]

My very favorite poet is Maxine Kumen. I also very much like Robinson Jeffers, W.H. Auden, Byron and Bronte, and Ezra Pound. Most favorite poem is a hard one....

When i was a kid, i would check out the same book from the library over and over, mostly because it had (what i now know to be) a snippet of Byron's 'Mazeppa' in it. I can still recite it to this.

With flowing tail, and flying mane,
Wide nostrils never stretched by pain,
Mouths bloodless to the bit or rein,
And feet that iron never shod,
And flanks unscarred by spur or rod,
A thousand horse, the wild, the free,
Like waves that follow o'er the sea,
Came thickly thundering on,
As if our faint approach to meet;
The sight re-nerved my courser's feet,
A moment staggering, feebly fleet,
A moment, with a faint low neigh,
He answered, and then fell!
With gasps and glazing eyes he lay,
And reeking limbs immoveable,
His first and last career is done!
On came the troop - they saw him stoop,
They saw me strangely bound along
His back with many a bloody thong.
They stop - they start - they snuff the air,
Gallop a moment here and there,
Approach, retire, wheel round and round,
Then plunging back with sudden bound,
Headed by one black mighty steed,
Who seemed the patriarch of his breed,
Without a single speck or hair
Of white upon his shaggy hide;
They snort - they foam - neigh - swerve aside,
And backward to the forest fly,
By instinct, from a human eye.

I was a horse-mad kid, and there was a gorgeous drawing of a horse, and..... Yeah.

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[kryptoncat]

If I ever live in a two storied house, this poem will be framed in the stairway:

Antigonish
by: Hughes Mearns

Yesterday, upon the stair,
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today,
I wish, I wish he'd go away...

Got a couple

[caerbannog]

The Sciences Sing a Lullabye

Physics says: go to sleep. Of course
you're tired. Every atom in you
has been dancing the shimmy in silver shoes
nonstop from mitosis to now.
Quit tapping your feet. They'll dance
inside themselves without you. Go to sleep.

Geology says: it will be all right. Slow inch
by inch America is giving itself
to the ocean. Go to sleep. Let darkness
lap at your sides. Give darkness an inch.
You aren't alone. All of the continents used to be
one body. You aren't alone. Go to sleep.

Astronomy says: the sun will rise tomorrow,
Zoology says: on rainbow-fish and lithe gazelle,
Psychology says: but first it has to be night,
so Biology says: the body-clocks are stopped all over town
and
History says: here are the blankets, layer on layer, down and down


A Precious Human Life by the XIV Dalai Lama
Every day, think as you wake up:

Today I am fortunate to have woken up.
I am alive, I have a precious human life.
I am not going to waste it.

I am going to use
all my energies to develop myself,
to expand my heart out to others,
to achieve enlightenment for
the benefit of all beings.

I am going to have
kind thoughts towards others.
I am not going to get angry,
or think badly about others.

I am going to benefit others
as much as I can.


...and one more

Beyond the palings of the park,
A hare had made her form
Beneath a drooping fern, that gave
A shelter, snug and warm.

She slept until the daylight came,
And all things were awake;
And then the hare, with noiseless step,
Crept softly from the brake.

She stroked her whiskers with her paws,
Looked timidly around
With open eyes, and ears erect
That caught the smallest sound.

The field-mouse rustled In the grass,
The squirrel in the trees;
But the little hare was not afraid
Of common sounds like these.

She frisked and gamboled with delight,
And cropped a leaf or two
Of clover and of tender grass,
That glistened in the dew.

What was it, then, that made her start,
And run away so fast?
She heard the distant sound of hounds,
She heard the huntsman's blast.

Hoy! Tally-ho! Hoy! Tally-ho!
The hounds are in full cry;
Ehew! Ehew! In scarlet coats
The men are sweeping by.

So off she set with a spring and a bound,
Over the meadows and open ground,
Faster than hunter and faster than hound;
And on, and on, till she lost the sound,

And away went the little hare.



....I have many more so one last one, what secret, unrefined fondeness I am not hiding any

The sleeping bag by Herbert George Ponting

On the outside grows the furside. On the inside grows the skinside.
So the furside is the outside and the skinside is the inside.
As the skinside is the inside (and the furside is the outside)
One ‘side’ likes the skinside inside and the furside on the outside.

Others like the skinside outside and the furside on the inside
As the skinside is the hard side and the furside is the soft side.
If you turn the skinside outside, thinking you will side with that ‘side’,
Then the soft side furside’s inside, which some argue is the wrong side.

If you turn the furside outside – as you say, it grows on that side,
Then your outside’s next the skinside, which for comfort’s not the right side.
For the skinside is the cold side and your outside’s not your warm side
And the two cold sides coming side-by-side are not the right sides one ‘side’ decides.

If you decide to side with that ‘side’, turn the outside furside inside
Then the hard side, cold side, skinside’s, beyond all question, inside outside.


Personally I'm partial to my furside inside

Re: What's your favourite poem?

[mimi-sardinia.livejournal.com]

Either "The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner" or "The Man in the Moon Stayed Up Too Late" from FotR (Book version). The song of the latter in The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey EE is a pretty good sung version of it (after all, it's meant to be a song).