The Big Question

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Monday, August 22, 2005

Thirty-seventh Question

What is your favorite poem?

29 Comments:

  • At 11:30 AM, Blogger Sublime said…

    My favorite poem written by someone else is "From an Atlas of the Difficult World", by Adrienne Rich.

    My favorite poem that I wrote can be read by clicking here .

     
  • At 12:10 PM, Anonymous Hale said…

    I love many poems but there's one really special. It's actually a whole book, a story, but individual pages work as individual poems. I hope the author, Arno Kotro, forgives me for doing a rough translation of one page here:

    "in some strange way
    in every love you lose
    the same love
    in every attraction you find
    the same attraction
    but why only with the impossible you believe
    love possible
    that's just the way it is
    the only love is the love lost
    the only love is the impossible love"

    Arno Kotro, "some call it love"

     
  • At 12:47 PM, Blogger Cass said…

    I love "A Song for Occupations" from "Leaves of Grass." That book is great. Everyone should have a copy.

     
  • At 2:06 PM, Blogger David said…

    There once was a man from Nantuket...

     
  • At 2:48 PM, Blogger Blogzie said…

    Anything and everything ever written by Anne Sexton.

     
  • At 2:59 PM, Blogger arcane said…

    Shel Silverstein - Bear In There

    There's a Polar Bear
    In our Frigidaire--
    He likes it 'cause it's cold in there.
    With his seat in the meat
    And his face in the fish
    And his big hairy paws
    In the buttery dish,
    He's nibbling the noodles,
    He's munching the rice,
    He's slurping the soda,
    He's licking the ice.
    And he lets out a roar
    If you open the door.
    And it gives me a scare
    To know he's in there--
    That Polary Bear
    In our Fridgitydaire

    This is my favorite because it was the first poem my daughters learned.

     
  • At 3:22 PM, Blogger nancy =) said…

    well, not sure if they're poems or quotes, but there's that nelson mandela/marianne williamson quote about not playing small...and then there's this one that i love by gerald g. jampolsky:

    prescription for peace

    - forgive our parents totally
    - forgive everyone who has ever been here, who is here now, or who will ever be here, including ourselves, totally
    - forgive god totally
    - take a leap in faith and trust in love, trust in god
    - choose to experience peace rather than conflict
    - choose to experience love rather than fear
    - choose to be a love finder rather than a fault finder
    - choose to be a love giver rather than a love seeker
    - teach only love

     
  • At 3:26 PM, Blogger JB said…

    Shakespears Sonnet 130 is one of my all time faves:

    "My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun;
    Coral is far more red than her lips' red;
    If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;
    If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head.
    I have seen roses damask'd, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks;
    And in some perfumes is there more delight
    Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks.
    I love to hear her speak, yet well I know
    That music hath a far more pleasing sound;
    I grant I never saw a goddess go;
    My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground.
    And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rare
    As any she belied with false compare."

     
  • At 5:20 PM, Blogger scribble said…

    Robert Frost's,
    The road less traveled.

     
  • At 5:27 PM, Blogger 4evergapeach said…

    I'm not much into reading poetry although I enjoy writing my own. But if I have to pick a favorite it is one that my mom taught me as a little girl and it always reminds me of happy times with her -

    The Purple Cow

    I never saw a Purple Cow,
    I never hope to see one,
    But I can tell you, anyhow,
    I'd rather see than be one!

    by Gelett Burgess

     
  • At 6:31 PM, Blogger SassyFemme said…

    Not really sure if it's a poem or not, to be honest. We used this as a reading at our commitment ceremony. It's from The Riverhouse Stories by Andrea Carlisle:

    "She loved loving her.
    Out past the edges of the world's agreement......
    beyond.....
    The rules of her childhood....
    beyond even her own mind,
    she loved her, and loved loving her.
    The loving brought forth in her
    all of her courage, as well as her limitations,
    all of her blind desire to be like the others,
    to melt in, to be invisible.
    It took her out of the roles
    she thought she would grow up to fill.
    It took her away from her automatic stream of pictures
    of what life should be and forced her to create her own version
    of what life could be.
    And beyond all of that
    was the woman she loved,
    living a life made from nothing more than
    her own imagination,
    and she was beautiful."

     
  • At 6:42 PM, Blogger Kris said…

    It is a tossup between "The Lady of Shallot" or "Bendable Twistable Man"

     
  • At 8:36 PM, Blogger Elizabeth Taylor said…

    Toss up between "Living in Sin" by Adrienne Rich and "question and answer" by Charles Bukowski.

     
  • At 10:41 PM, Blogger babyjewels said…

    My Ex used to do slams and his original work was amazing. I used to have a bunch of his stuff, some written for me - I've lost them all. I'd like to be able to read them again. Especially from the ex perspective.

     
  • At 12:55 AM, Blogger HappyKap said…

    I always thought that Sylvia Plath had such a beautiful way of conveying her thoughts....her life was sad in her own personal jail, but I *love* the way she articulated.

     
  • At 9:01 AM, Blogger Sierra said…

    Jabberwocky by Lewis Carroll

    how can you no love Slithy toves or Vorpal Swords

     
  • At 11:28 AM, Blogger Southern Fried Girl said…

    Phenomenal Woman by Maya Angelou.

     
  • At 11:28 AM, Blogger AKH said…

    When I find it, I'll let you know.

     
  • At 2:32 PM, Blogger Oh, that girl. said…

    FANCY DIVE by shell silverstein.

    The fanciest dive that ever was dove
    Was done by Melissa of Coconut Grove.
    She bounced on the board and flew into the air
    With a twist of her head and twirl of her hair.
    She did thirty-four jackknives, backflipped and spun,
    Quadruple gainered, and reached for the sun,
    And then somersaulted nine times and a quarter--
    And looked down and saw that the pool had no water.

     
  • At 9:12 PM, Blogger Valerie said…

    I love ee cummings. Here's my favorite:

    since feeling is first
    who pays any attention
    to the syntax of things
    will never wholly kiss you;

    wholly to be a fool
    while Spring is in the world

    my blood approves,
    and kisses are a far better fate
    than wisdom
    lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
    --the best gesture of my brain is less than
    your eyelids' flutter which says

    we are for eachother: then
    laugh, leaning back in my arms
    for life's not a paragraph

    And death i think is no parenthesis

     
  • At 9:46 PM, Blogger TinaPoPo said…

    There's this poem by Rumi...I saw it in calligraphy and I only remember two lines (and I'm absolutely paraphrasing them here), something about building up pillars of love and then tearing them down again.

     
  • At 8:17 AM, Blogger It's My Life said…

    Annabelle Lee by Edgar Allen Poe

     
  • At 12:34 PM, Blogger Late Edition said…

    gerard manley hopkins:

    NO worst, there is none. Pitched past pitch of grief,
    More pangs will, schooled at forepangs, wilder wring.
    Comforter, where, where is your comforting?
    Mary, mother of us, where is your relief?
    My cries heave, herds-long; huddle in a main, a chief 5
    Woe, world-sorrow; on an age-old anvil wince and sing—
    Then lull, then leave off. Fury had shrieked ‘No ling-
    ering! Let me be fell: force I must be brief’.

    O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall
    Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap 10
    May who ne’er hung there. Nor does long our small
    Durance deal with that steep or deep. Here! creep,
    Wretch, under a comfort serves in a whirlwind: all
    Life death does end and each day dies with sleep.

     
  • At 10:00 PM, Blogger sdk said…

    I don't know...it's not a poem, but I love the lyrics to Kelly Clarkson's Beautiful Disaster...

    sdk

     
  • At 1:29 AM, Anonymous grace said…

    Any "Rummi" for my desire to be with nature. An d that shit is old man!

     
  • At 10:33 PM, Blogger Mr. Incredulous said…

    One that my father made up when he was a lad in high school:
    Intestines are an awful bore!
    They never do anyhting but store
    Your food and your water
    What your stomach oughtter
    Throw up all over the floor!

     
  • At 10:59 PM, Anonymous Tu-tu said…

    I don't know all of the poem or if it is just a quote by Emily Dickinson:
    "Pain...it cannot recollect a time when it began or if there was a time when it was not." "It has no future but itself."

     
  • At 12:12 PM, Blogger Clandestine said…

    little birdie in the sky
    why'd you do that in my eye?
    i'm no baby - i won't cry.
    i'm just glad that cows don't fly.

     
  • At 10:15 PM, Blogger StacyGrrrL said…

    Language has not the power to speak
    Of all that love indites.
    The soul lies hidden, buried
    Deep within the ink that writes.

    -anon.

     

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