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Share your favorite Poem With Us

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posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 12:52 PM
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I thought this might be a nice change of pace from Bigfoot, Aliens, Trump, Hillary,...and the Illuminati.

It might also be an opportunity for us to get to know another side of our fellow ATSers.

If you have always carried a particular poem with you; one that speaks to your soul, please share it with us.
(Note: let's keep the ones that begin with lines such as "I knew a girl from Nantucket...", for future thread.)

Below are two poems I have always loved and would like to share:

Love After Love

The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

--Derek Walcott


The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.

--Mary Oliver
edit on 21-9-2015 by IAMTAT because: (no reason given)




posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 12:54 PM
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Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

by William Ernest Henley



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 12:56 PM
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a reply to: IAMTAT

Robert Frost off the top of my head...

"Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow."




posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 12:57 PM
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a reply to: 3n19m470

Wow. Thank you. Powerful.



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 01:02 PM
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a reply to: TNMockingbird

"And miles to go before I sleep."



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 01:02 PM
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I don't know if I would say this is my favorite exactly, but I really like it.

I am not I.
I am this one
walking beside me whom I do not see,
whom at times I manage to visit,
and whom at other times I forget;
who remains calm and silent while I talk,
and forgives, gently, when I hate,
who walks where I am not,
who will remain standing when I die.

By Juan Ramon Jimenez



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 01:03 PM
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Yertle the Turtle

On the far-away island of Sala-ma-Sond,
Yertle the Turtle was king of the pond.
A nice little pond. It was clean. It was neat.
The water was warm. There was plenty to eat.
The turtles had everything turtles might need.
And they were all happy. Quite happy indeed.

They were… until Yertle, the king of them all,
Decided the kingdom he ruled was too small.
“I’m ruler”, said Yertle, “of all that I see.
But I don’t see enough. That’s the trouble with me.
With this stone for a throne, I look down on my pond
But I cannot look down on the places beyond.
This throne that I sit on is too, too low down.
It ought to be higher!” he said with a frown.
“If I could sit high, how much greater I’d be!
What a king! I’d be ruler of all that I see!”

So Yertle the Turtle King, lifted his hand
And Yertle, the Turtle King, gave a command.
He ordered nine turtles to swim to his stone
And, using these turtles, he built a new throne.
He made each turtle stand on another one’s back
And he piled them all up in a nine-turtle stack.
And then Yertle climbed up. He sat down on the pile.
What a wonderful view! He could see ‘most a mile!

“All mine!” Yertle cried. “Oh, the things I now rule!
I’m the king of a cow! And I’m the king of a mule!
I’m the king of a house! And, what’s more, beyond that
I’m the king of a blueberry bush and a cat!
I’m Yertle the Turtle! Oh, marvelous me!
For I am the ruler of all that I see!”

And all through the morning, he sat up there high
Saying over and over, “A great king am I!”
Until ‘long about noon. Then he heard a faint sigh.
“What’s that?” snapped the king,and he looked down the stack.
And he saw, at the bottom, a turtle named Mack.
Just a part of his throne. And this plain little turtle
Looked up and he said, “Beg your pardon, King Yertle.
I’ve pains in my back and my shoulders and knees.
How long must we stand here, Your Majesty, please?”

“SILENCE!” the King of the Turtles barked back.
“I’m king, and you’re only a turtle named Mack.”

“You stay in your place while I sit here and rule.
I’m the king of a cow! And I’m the king of a mule!
I’m the king of a house! And a bush! And a cat!
But that isn’t all. I’ll do better than that!
My throne shall be higher!” his royal voice thundered,
“So pile up more turtles! I want ’bout two hundred!”

“Turtles! More turtles!” he bellowed and brayed.
And the turtles ‘way down in the pond were afraid.
They trembled. They shook. But they came. They obeyed.
From all over the pond, they came swimming by dozens.
Whole families of turtles, with uncles and cousins.
And all of them stepped on the head of poor Mack.
One after another, they climbed up the stack.

Then Yertle the Turtle was perched up so high,
He could see forty miles from his throne in the sky!
“Hooray!” shouted Yertle. “I’m the king of the trees!
I’m king of the birds! And I’m king of the bees!
I’m king of the butterflies! King of the air!
Ah, me! What a throne! What a wonderful chair!
I’m Yertle the Turtle! Oh, marvelous me!
For I am the ruler of all that I see!”

Then again, from below, in the great heavy stack,
Came a groan from that plain little turtle named Mack.
“Your Majesty, please… I don’t like to complain,
But down here below, we are feeling great pain.
I know, up on top you are seeing great sights,
But down here at the bottom we, too, should have rights.
We turtles can’t stand it. Our shells will all crack!
Besides, we need food. We are starving!” groaned Mack.

“You hush up your mouth!” howled the mighty King Yertle.
“You’ve no right to talk to the world’s highest turtle.
I rule from the clouds! Over land! Over sea!
There’s nothing, no, NOTHING, that’s higher than me!”

But, while he was shouting, he saw with surprise
That the moon of the evening was starting to rise
Up over his head in the darkening skies.
“What’s THAT?” snorted Yertle. “Say, what IS that thing
That dares to be higher than Yertle the King?
I shall not allow it! I’ll go higher still!
I’ll build my throne higher! I can and I will!
I’ll call some more turtles. I’ll stack ‘em to heaven!
I need ’bout five thousand, six hundred and seven!”

But, as Yertle, the Turtle King, lifted his hand
And started to order and give the command,
That plain little turtle below in the stack,
That plain little turtle whose name was just Mack,
Decided he’d taken enough. And he had.
And that plain little lad got a bit mad.
And that plain little Mack did a plain little thing.
He burped!
And his burp shook the throne of the king!

And Yertle the Turtle, the king of the trees,
The king of the air and the birds and the bees,
The king of a house and a cow and a mule…
Well, that was the end of the Turtle King’s rule!
For Yertle, the King of all Sala-ma-Sond,
Fell off his high throne and fell Plunk! in the pond!

And today the great Yertle, that Marvelous he,
Is King of the Mud. That is all he can see.
And the turtles, of course… all the turtles are free
As turtles and, maybe, all creatures should be.

by Dr. Seuss

Will humanity "burp" one day too?



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 01:04 PM
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a reply to: IAMTAT

'Oh freddled Gruntbuggly...'

'thy micturations are to me, as plurdled gabbleblotchis on a lurgid bee.

Groop I implore thee, my footling turlingdromes. And I will rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurdle cruntcheon, see if I don't!'


Gotta love Vogon poetry, it makes your colon want to strangle your brain.



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 01:07 PM
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Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889)
Spring and Fall:

to a Young Child

Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you will weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What héart héard of, ghóst guéssed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 01:09 PM
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a reply to: IAMTAT

There's also one, I can't remember all of the lines by Chief Tecumseh.
I have to google when I get a minute...
Goes something like:
Love life. Perfect it.
Find the beauty in your life.
If you can find no reason to give thanks, the fault lies with you.
It was really a speech rather than a poem.
Abuse no one and nothing.

Anyway, I remembered it and thought of it often...what I could remember LOL



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 01:09 PM
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originally posted by: ladyinwaiting
Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889)
Spring and Fall:

to a Young Child

Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you will weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What héart héard of, ghóst guéssed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.


Beautiful...and so true.



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 01:13 PM
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originally posted by: TNMockingbird
a reply to: IAMTAT

There's also one, I can't remember all of the lines by Chief Tecumseh.
I have to google when I get a minute...
Goes something like:
Love life. Perfect it.
Find the beauty in your life.
If you can find no reason to give thanks, the fault lies with you.
It was really a speech rather than a poem.
Abuse no one and nothing.

Anyway, I remembered it and thought of it often...what I could remember LOL


Tecumseh Poem...From Act of Valor


So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart. Trouble no one about their religion;respect others in their view, and demand that they respect yours. Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people. Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide.

Always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, even a stranger, when in a lonely place. Show respect to all people and grovel to none.

When you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies only in yourself. Abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools and robs the spirit of its vision.

When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.

www.waynemoran.com...



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 01:21 PM
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These are all some powerful choices. Thank you.
Sometimes it easy to forget how some simple and passionate lines of prose can inspire, guide, define and comfort us.



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 01:27 PM
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a reply to: IAMTAT

How about one from our very own...

Blend57




You dropped me to my knees,
Played havoc with my mind.
You burnt my soul, left huge holes,
and then left me there to die.

You crushed me, held me down,
Why could I have no dreams?
I was to keep my feet on the ground,
While you soared high it seems.

And I left, went far away
Where you could never reach.
But in my mind, your voice still plays,
And I just can't forget those days.

The lessons that you taught to me.
Those words will forever be,
Imprinted in my memory.
I guess I'll never really be free....

I only wanted to dance..

Thanks,
blend57



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 01:29 PM
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This from Fungus The Boggie Man.

Scab and matter custard.
Snot and boggie pie.
Dead dogs giblets.
Green cats eye.
Spread it on bread.
Spread it on thick.
And wash it all down with a cup of cold sick.


Fond memories of my dad reading this story to me as a kid.



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 01:30 PM
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Ozymandias

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away

-Percy Bysshe Shelley



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 01:31 PM
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a reply to: TNMockingbird

Nice. We definitely have some real talent here on ATS.



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 01:31 PM
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a reply to: Cloudbuster

LOL...I remember this one too.



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 02:27 PM
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While I am no where near all the authors posted, nor do i major in English or literature I do write a lot of music. I "attempted" to write my first poem ever just for fun and I posted it here on ats and I would like to share it with you all but I'm not sure how to link it here or have the entire thing quoted.

If somebody could please help me with this it would be greatly appreciated. I'm also mobile only if that makes any difference.

The poem is called 'the system' if anybody is interested and you can view it from my profile.

Thanks



posted on Sep, 21 2015 @ 03:06 PM
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Here's another one from my childhood.

Baked beans make you fart.
Baked beans so good for your heart.
The more you fart the better you feel.
So eat baked beans for every meal.


Taught to me by my dad.




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