What is your favourite poem ?
Published 1 year, 8 months ago in My life.I love poetry. Not the heavy, classical stuff, and not too keen on the so-called blind poetry that doesn’t seem to scan or rhyme. But the light hearted stuff and yes, sometimes, the serious stuff as long as it’s not too complicated. I was forced to do it at school but a little bit rubbed off and since then I have ‘discovered’ Thomas Hardy (much better poet than author), John Betjeman and, of course, Banjo Paterson. I have so many that I return to that I would find it very hard to pick a favourite but here is one I’m fond of (always makes me think of Steve Bracks !).
I wanna be the leader
I wanna be the leader
Can I be the leader ?
Can I ? I can ?
Promise ? Promise ?
Yippee, I’m the leader
I’m the leader
OK what shall we do ?
Any other poets, or poems, that should be be read just for enjoyment ?
29 Responses to “What is your favourite poem ?”
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My two favorite poems are “The Unicorn” by E V Rieu and “The Tarantella” By Hilaire Belloc. - Both have amazing rhythms and melodies - perfect for recitation
Great post!
I know what you mean… call me old fashioned but I much prefer poems to rhyme.
Sadly I don’t read much well-known poetry, but I do enjoy my friends’ poems… I have two very talented poet friends who inspire me a lot. Also, I find that song lyrics are some of the best poems of today, and the rhyming in rap is exceptionally well thought out (no matter what one thinks of the music).
But! To answer the question, I guess Poe is the best poet I know… if a little too cryptic at times… my favourite of his is “Alone”, and my favourite line from it goes like this:
“From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.”
I just love that… it’s like he looked inside my head and wrote it.
William Blake- you dont believe
You dont believe I wont attempt to make ye
You are asleep I wont attempt to wake ye
Sleep on Sleep on while in your pleasant dreams
Of Reason you may drink of Lifes clear streams
Reason and Newton they are quite two things
For so the Swallow & the Sparrow sings
Reason says Miracle. Newton says Doubt
Aye thats the way to make all Nature out
Doubt Doubt & dont believe without experiment
That is the very thing that Jesus meant
When he said Only Believe Believe & try
Try Try & never mind the Reason why
Thanks , guys. I like them all, especailly The Tarantella - what a gift. I think poetry makes you think and I like it because it’s impact is quicker than books. And there’s always something to fit your mood:
For inspiration Rudyard Kipling’s “If” or the last lines of Tennyson’s “Ulysses”:
Though much is taken, much abides; and though we are not now that strength which in old days moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts, made weak by time and fate, but strong in will to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Stirring stuff but if too serious then Mitchell’s “Celia Celia”
When I am sad and weary
When I think all hope has gone
When I walk along High Holborn
I think of you with nothing on
It would have to be The Yarn of the “Nancy Bell”, naturally.
I just love poetry, I collect pieces and have some favorites, but seeing as the theme here seems to be lighthearted, I share a light hearted one also ( by the way, celia, celia recieved a good belly laugh)
” Oh god of new beginnings,
and second chances………..
Here I am again”!!.
nancy speilberg.
I do not like thee, Doctor Fell,
The reason why I cannot tell;
But this I know, and know full well,
I do not like thee, Doctor Fell.
Tom Brown
I’m a bit of a classic poet fan myself…
My two favourites.
John Keats “When I have fears that I may cease to be”
and William Blake “The Poison Tree”
I’ve read quite a lot of poetry through my studying, I did a whole subject on Cavalier and Romantic Poetry periods.
What I love about poetry is the immediacy of it. Since it doesn’t have to be linear, you can write things down as you feel them, without the restrictions of having to have the sentence structure.
My favourite poems change all the time but here is my latest obsession:
Poetry of Departures
Philip Larkin
Sometimes you hear, fifth-hand,
as epitaph:
He chucked up everything
And just cleared off,
and always the voice will sound
Certain you approve
This audacious, purifying,
Elemental move.
And they are right, I think.
We all hate home
And having to be there:
I detect my room,
It’s specially-chosen junk,
The good books, the good bed,
And my life, in perfect order:
So to hear it said
He walked out on the whole crowd
Leaves me flushed and stirred,
Like The she undid her dress
Or Take that you bastard ?
Surely I can, if he did?
And that helps me to stay
Sober and industrious.
But I’d go today,
Yes, swagger the nut-strewn roads,
Crouch in the fo’c’sle
Stubbly with goodness, if
It weren’t so artificial,
Such a deliberate step backwards
To create an object:
Books; china; a life
Reprehensibly perfect.
You will find, hannahsgranpa, that I am quite different from the Dr Fell of children’s nursery rhymes. Quite different !
The indispensable man.
some time when your’e feeling important,
Some time when your ego’s in bloom.
Some time when you take it for granted,
Youre the most competent man in the room:
Some time when you feel that your going,
would leave an unfillable hole
Just follow this simple instruction,
and see how it humbles your soul.
Take a bucket and fill it with water,
Put your hands in it up to the wrists.
Pull them out and the hole that remains,
is a measure of how you’ll be missed.
You may splash all you please when you enter,
You may stir up the water galore.
But stop and you’ll find in a minute,
that it looks just the same as before.
The moral of this is quite simple,
Just do the best that you can,
Be proud of yourself,
but remember………..
There is no indispensable man !!
Another favourite, ‘Do not Stand at my Grave and Weep’ was left in an envelope for his parents by Steven Cummins, a British soldier killed on active service in Northern Ireland, to be opened in the event of his death. Claims were made for nineteenth century magazines and the prayers of Navaho Indian priests but, as far as I know, its origins remain a mystery.
DO NOT STAND AT MY GRAVE AND WEEP
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
i love the old australian bush poems they make me smile or maybe im just a true blue boy from the bush
“Out of evil oft cometh good,”
Is a maxim to my liking;
The blacksmith well the iron beateth,
But ’tis better for his striking.
I do like the “Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep”, its very lovely.
I like poetry too guys!! I don’t read nearly enough of it.
I like John Marsden’s “Prayer for the 21st Century”
May the road be free for the journey,
May it lead where it promised it would,
May the stars which gave ancient bearings,
Be seen, still be understood.
May every aircraft fly safely,
May every traveller be found,
May sailors in crossing the ocean,
Not hear the cries of the drowned.
May gardens be wild, like jungles,
May nature never be tamed,
May dangers create of us heroes,
May fears always have names.
May the mountains stand to remind us, of what it means to be young
May we be outlived by our daughters,
May we be outlived by our sons.
May the bombs rust away in the bunkers,
And the doomsday clock not be rewound,
May the solitary scientists working,
Remember the holes in the ground.
May the knife remain in the holder,
May the bullet stay in the gun,
May those who live in the shadows,
Be seen by those in the sun.
Love that one, its just so nice.
Another one that comes to mind, is Leunig
Poor old lonely Mother Earth,
Was very very sad,
She had a bomb put in her heart
By people who were mad.
She cared for them and fed them,
She taught them to be free,
They put a bomb inside her heart and whispered, ‘cest la vie’.
I must say Lady Chaos, I do agree on another note with your comments on lyrical poetry, including rap. It is pretty amazing!
That one about Isabel and the bear, where she eats the bear up. And (spike milligans ?) man who wasn’t on the stairs, yesterday and today.
. A.A.Milne
The King asked
The Queen, and
The Queen asked
The Dairymaid:
“Could we have some butter for
the Royal slice of bread?”.
The Queen asked the Dairymaid
The Dairymaid
said “Certainly,
I”ll go and tell the cow
Now
before she goes to bed”.
Theshadow
The butter came
which pleased the dame.
She went to bed
feeling fed.
The king was pleased
the queen sneezed.
Sleep came
it did rain.
Day came,
the cow was lame.
No butter for the royals
and the toast was quite spoiled.
NOW AS EVERYBODY KNOWS, THESHADOW IS NOT A POET, BUT HE TRIES. HE IS MUCH BETTER AT CRITICISING OTHER POETS.
theshadow
“Do not stand at my grave and weep”… now THAT is a poem… so moving, simple and beautiful. Curse my easily manipulated emotions, but oh boy, what a great poem.
Ahem (clears throat, taps the micophone)….
Ooey-gooey custard
Green maggot pie
Four dogs’ gizzards
And one cat’s eye
Four blood sandwiches
Coated on thick
All washed down with
A cup of cold sick.
I am dead chuffed with this post. I thought it might be demeaned, derided or sneered at but I’m really pleased with the positive result. It’s good to know I’m not alone in my love of poetry and I must say I’m impressed with the range and breadth of what nookers appreciate. My own tastes are quite eclectic too, so everything from Celia Celia to Do Not Stand At My Grave and everything inbetween, if its good then the quality shines through.
Perhaps the nook should have a poets corner when people can swap favourites ( or is that a bit too far ?)
Anyway, thanks guys - poetry can be uplifting but so can being amongst like minds.
Slow Dance
Have you ever watched kids on a merry go-round?
or listened to the rain slapping on the ground?
ever followed a butterflys eratic flight?
or gazed at the sun into the fading night?
You’d better slow down
Dont dance so fast
time is short
the music wont last……….
Do you run through each day on the fly?
When you ask ” how are you?”
do you hear the reply?
When the day is done, do you lie in your bed?
with the next hundred chores running through your head?
You’d better slow down
Dont dance so fast
Time is short the music wont last………
Ever told your child, we’ll do it tomorrow?
And in your haste, not see his sorrow?
Ever lost touch, let a good friendship die?
‘Cause you never had time, to call and say hi?
You’d better slow down,
Dont dance so fast,
Time is short, the music wont last………
When you run so fast to get somewhere
You miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry through your day,
It is like an unopenend gift
Thrown away,
Life is not a race.
Do take it slower
Hear the music
Before the dance is over.
oh and hannah’sgranpa…………thankyou.. Glad youre chuffed…..love this post Its the first one I look for.
I heard as fly buzz - when I died.
For politicians everywhere.
AMBITION
I am the maid of the lustrous eyes
Of great fruition,
Whom the sons of men that are over-wise
Have call Ambition.
And the world’s success is the only goal
I have within me;
The meanest man with the smallest soul
May woo and win me.
For the lust of power and the pride of place
To all I proffer.
Wilt thou take thy part in the crowded race
For what I offer?
The choice is thine, and the world is wide –
Thy path is lonely.
I may not lead and I may not guide –
I urge thee only.
I am just the whip and a spur that smites
To fierce endeavour.
In the restless days and the sleepless nights
I urge thee ever.
Thou shalt wake from sleep with a startled cry,
In fright upleaping
At a rival’s step as it passes by
Whilst thou are sleeping.
Honour and Truth shall be overthrown
In fierce desire;
Thou shalt use thy friend as stepping stone
To mount thee higher
When the curtain falls on the sordid strife
That seemed so splendid,
Thou shalt look with pain on the wasted life
That thou hast ended.
Thou hast sold thy life for a guerdon small
In fitful flashes;
There has been reward – but the end of all
Is dust and ashes.
For the night has come and it brings to naught
Thy projects cherished,
And thine epitaph shall in brass be wrought –
‘He lived, and perished.’
Banjo Paterson
Ambition is a great poem…
Makes you think. I guess ambition can be for more than money or power.
Hmmm, what am I doing, I should be finding poems for this thread…
Fishermans Lore.
when the wind is in the east,
’tis neither good for man, nor beast.
When the wind is in the north,
the skillful fisher goes not forth.
When the wind is in the south,
It blows the bait in the fishes mouth.
When the wind is in the west……..
Then it is at it’s very best.
for all you fisher “people” haha
Born to fish, forced to work.
Hannahsgranpa you are the undisputed king. I am humbled before your nook. Reminds me of an Emily Dickinson ode:
I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you-Nobody-too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Dont tell! they’d banish us-you know!
How dreary-to be-Somebody!
How public-like a Frog-
To tell your name-the livelong June
To an admiring Bog!
For those of you who don’t know him, Spike Milligan was an Irishman born in India who became one of England’s greatest comedians. He was a founder member of The Goon Show and his anarchic sense of humour is reflected in his novels and poetry, including children’s poems. But he also suffered from severe depression. I believe this was written after his second wife, Patricia (Paddy) Ridgeway, died of cancer in 1978. There are no typing or spelling mistakes, it is produced here verbatim.
HALVED
The essence of true beauty
Lingers in all-encompassing rainbows
Of your joy and laughter
You hold my hand and smile
As we ensconce ourselves in our world of fire
Our love is all there is
I touch your face
Your gentleness astounds me
I’m held in the honour of your love
Then overnight, the wrold truns suor
61 mInnIts past the ELevenTHH HouRR
I’M A L 0 N E
Spike Milligan