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A Favorite Poem

A platform to express and share your enthusiasm and passion for poetry. What are your treasured poems and poets? Don't hesitate to showcase the poems you've penned yourself!
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DWill

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Re: A Favorite Poem

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Another English poem in the social protest vein that I first read in high school is Oliver Goldsmith's "The Deserted Village. " It's 400 lines, so sometimes the whole poem isn't printed. It's a little melodramatic but still a powerful condemnation of the English Enclosure Acts that brought so much harm to rural life.
Maybe the most famous passage is this one:

Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey,

Where wealth accumulates, and men decay:

Princes and lords may flourish, or may fade;

A breath can make them, as a breath has made;

But a bold peasantry, their country's pride,

When once destroyed can never be supplied.
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Re: The Deserted Village

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You have more patience than I sir. It's funny, if I had to read that in high school it would have seemed like torture. I can't get to the end of it even now. What are ''really'' your favorite poems? The simple beauty of Hoods words hook me from the first line and hold me till the end. He must have given great inspiration to the Women's movements of the time too, I'd imagine.
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Re: A Favorite Poem

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The Way of War

by Jack London
1906

Foeman: A foe in battle; an enemy

Man primeval hurled a rock,
Torn with angry passions, he;
To escape the which rude shock.
Foeman ducked behind a tree.

Man primeval made a spear,
Swifth of death on battle field;
Foeman fashioned other gear,
Fought behind his hidebound shield.

Man mediaeval built a wall,
Said he didn't give a dam;
Foeman not put out at all,
Smashed it with a battering ram.

Man mediaeval, just for fun,
Made himself a coat of mail;
Foeman laughed and forged a gun,
Peppered him with iron hail.

Modern man bethought a change,
Cast most massive armor-plate;
Foeman just increased his range,
Tipped his ball to penetrate.

Modern man, with toil untold,
Deftly built torpedo boats;
Foeman launched "destroyer" bold,
Swept the sea of all that floats.

Future man - ah! who can say? -
May blow to smithereens our earth;
In the course of warrior play
Fling death across the heavens' girth.

Future man may hurl the stars,
Leash the comets, o'er-ride space,
Sear the universe with scars,
In the fight 'twixt race and race.

Yet foeman will be just as cute -
Amid the rain falling suns,
Leave the world by parachute,
And build ethereal forts and guns.

And when the skies begin to fall
The foeman still will new invent -
Into a star-proof world he'll crawl,
Heaven insured from accident.
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Re: A Favorite Poem

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In an earlier post, I said that my favorite poet was Rudyard Kipling, and my favorite poem was 'If.' On reflection, while Kipling is still my favorite poet, there are others whose poetry I enjoy. Below are a few of them, and some of of their respective works. (To include the poems themselves would take up far too much space, or maybe I am just too lazy). The are listed in no particular order.

Rudyard Kipline:
"If"
"The Gods of the Copybook Headings"
"The Balad of East and West"

Robert Frost:
"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening"
"The Road Not Taken"
"Fire and Ice"
"Mending Wall"

Alfred Lord Tennyson:
"The Charge of the Light Brigade"

Dylan Thomas:
"Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night"

T. S. Eliot:
"The Waste Land"

William Butler Years:
"The Second Coming"
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Re: A Favorite Poem

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Out of all those Kiplings If is my favorite too, I also like Cells: pack-drill for me and a fortnight's C.B. For "drunk and resisting the Guard."
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Re: A Favorite Poem

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As I've stated in a previous post, I got my love of poetry from the movie Genius. I also have a love of music, so the other day after watching the movie Star Girl featuring Grace Vanderwaal. I looked her up and downloaded some music. Her bio was promising, a child prodigy with an angelic voice and a natural talent for music and song writing. But I was dismayed to hear her singing of the smell of fresh laid concrete. Made me wonder what Ronnie Van Zant or Joni Mitchell would think. I'm a child of the 70's and a fan to this day of that era's music. I'm sure everyone knows Joni Mitchells ''Yellow Taxi'', and the line: They paved paradise, And put up a parking lot. But I also remember Van Zant's lyrics:
I can't make any changes
All I can do is write em in a song
I can see the concrete slowly creepin
Lord take me and mine before that comes.

So you can imagine what a kick in the dick it was for me to hear this young girl waxing poetically about the smell of fresh laid concrete. Oh my; how the world and it's influencers have changed.
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Re: A Favorite Poem

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Osmond Kelly Ingram
1887 – 1917
Osmond KellyIngram entered the US Navy November 24, 1903. His ship, USSCassin was attacked by the German submarine U-61 off Ireland on October 15, 1917. Gunner's Mate First Class Ingram spotted the approaching torpedo, realized it would strike close by the ship's depth charges, thus dooming the ship, and rushed to jettison the ammunition. He was blown overboard when the torpedo struck, thus becoming the United States' Navy's first enlisted man killed in action in World War I as he attempted to save his ship and shipmates. He posthumously received the Medal of Honor for his actions on that day.



Kelly Ingram
By
Edgar Albert Guest
1918

His name was Kelly Ingram; he was Alabama's son,
And he whistled 'Yankee Doodle,' as he stood beside his gun;
There was laughter in his make-up, there was manhood in his face,
And he knew the best traditions and the courage of his race;
Now there's not a heart among us but should swell with loyal pride
When he thinks of Kelly Ingram and the splendid way he died.

On the swift Destroyer Cassin he was merely gunner's mate,
But up there to-day, I fancy, he is standing with the great.
On that grim day last October his position on the craft
Was that portion of the vessel which the sailors christen aft;
There were deep sea bombs beside him to be dropped upon the Hun
Who makes women folks his victims and then gloats o'er what he's done.

From the lookout came a warning; came the cry all sailors fear,
A torpedo was approaching, and the vessel's doom was near;
Ingram saw the streak of danger, but he saw a little more,
A greater menace faced them than that missile had in store;
If those deep sea bombs beside him were not thrown beneath the wave,
Every man aboard the Cassin soon would find a watery grave.

It was death for him to linger, but he figured if he ran
And quit his post of duty, 'twould be death for every man;
So he stood at his position, threw those depth bombs overboard,
And when that torpedo struck them, he went forth to meet his Lord.
Oh, I don't know how to say it, but these whole United States
Should remember Kelly Ingram—he who died to save his mates.
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Re: A Favorite Poem

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Cattleman wrote: Tue Oct 05, 2021 8:55 am In an earlier post, I said that my favorite poet was Rudyard Kipling, and my favorite poem was 'If.' On reflection, while Kipling is still my favorite poet, there are others whose poetry I enjoy. Below are a few of them, and some of of their respective works. (To include the poems themselves would take up far too much space, or maybe I am just too lazy). The are listed in no particular order.



Robert Frost:
"Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening"
"The Road Not Taken"
"Fire and Ice"
"Mending Wall"

Frost is a personal favorite (not surprising, coming from NH, but I would add "The Death Of The Hired Man" Which contains my favorite quote from him "Home is where when you have to go there, they have to take you"
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