I have scanned the list of topics, and have not found this one. So I thought I would ask, who is your favorite poet. You can say why, or simply give a name.
I will start with mine: Rudyard Kipling. I 'found' him while reading a literature book in junior high school; the poem was his "The Ballad of East and West," and I was hooked.
Yes, I like other poets, and other poetry, but Kipling is my overall favorite. How about you?
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Favorite Poet
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- Cattleman
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Favorite Poet
Love what you do, and do what you love. Don't listen to anyone else who tells you not to do it. -Ray Bradbury
Always listen to experts. They'll tell you what can't be done, and why. Then do it. -Robert A. Heinlein
Always listen to experts. They'll tell you what can't be done, and why. Then do it. -Robert A. Heinlein
- Mr A
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Re: Favorite Poet
Well, I would have to pick among my favorite poets: Sara Teasdale, Sylvia Plath, Emily Dickinson.
Sara Teasdale.
Sara Teasdale.
"Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self."
- Cyril Connolly
My seven published books are available for purchase, click here:
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- Cyril Connolly
My seven published books are available for purchase, click here:
http://www.amazon.com/Steven-L.-Sheppard/e/B00E6KOX12
- tbarron
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Re: Favorite Poet
e. e. cummings
anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did
Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain
children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more
when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her
someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream
stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)
one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was
all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.
Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain
anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did
Women and men(both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain
children guessed(but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more
when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her
someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then)they
said their nevers they slept their dream
stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)
one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was
all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.
Women and men(both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain
Tom
- tbarron
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Re: Favorite Poet
Well... when I posted my last message, e. e. cummings *was* my favorite poet. Later in the morning, I was reminded of "Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver and she became my favorite poet.
Wild Geese
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
http://www.panhala.net/archive/wild_geese.html
No telling when I'll think of another favorite poem and poet. Oooh! It's happening! "The Walrus and the Carpenter" by Lewis Carroll! Or "Jabberwocky".
Wild Geese
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
http://www.panhala.net/archive/wild_geese.html
No telling when I'll think of another favorite poem and poet. Oooh! It's happening! "The Walrus and the Carpenter" by Lewis Carroll! Or "Jabberwocky".
Tom