Post Your Favorite Poem!

fmt4

Sun, Apr 22 2018, 8:31 pm

Incident by Countee Cullen

Once riding in old Baltimore,
Heart-filled, head-filled with glee,
I saw a Baltimorean
Keep looking straight at me.

Now I was eight and very small,
And he was no whit bigger,
And so I smiled, but he poked out
His tongue, and called me, "N*gger."

I saw the whole of Baltimore
From May until December;
Of all the things that happened there
That's all that I remember.

Last edited by fmt4 on Sun, Apr 22 2018, 8:31 pm; edited 1 time in total

Kiwi13

Sun, Apr 22 2018, 8:55 pm

I love poetry, but in true Mommy Brain fashion I can only think of the words to one poem right now, the words to a story from “Hello Magazine” (highlights magazine for babies) that my toddler loves:

Where’s Bear

Oh no, I’ve lost my teddy bear!
He’s not on the table, he’s not on the chair.
He’s small and cuddly, he’s got brown hair.
Have you seen my teddy bear?

I looked in the kitchen, I looked on the stair,
But I can’t find him, he just isn’t there.
“You can stop looking,” my big sister said.
“Your bear is waiting on your bed.”

Also in that same issue is a poem called “All Grown Up:”

Look at me, I’m all grown up.
I drink from a sippy cup!
I tilt my cup, I hold it up.
It tastes good, I slurp it up.
Can’t you see I’m all grown up?
I drink from a sippy cup!

I don’t remember the authors’ names, sorry. I am usually careful to give credit where credit is due, but I don’t know where that magazine is and, well, it’s not my car keys or cell phone, so I’m not going a search for it!

pause

Sun, Apr 22 2018, 9:13 pm

amother wrote:

who was she?

She was a writer who wrote under many pseudonyms. Many of her poems were never published. She passed away young (after an illness) and a collection of her poems (they were hard to track down because of her may pen names) were printed in the Pesach edition of Ami. There was a full-page write up of her life story written by IIRC Sarah Shapiro.

debsey

Mon, Apr 23 2018, 8:18 am

amother wrote:

deleted

I feel that I must protest the message of this poem. The writing is beautiful and it's thought provoking as a commentary on father/son relationships. It is also 100% apikorsus.

To deny the existence of the World To Come is beyond the pale on what is touted as an Orthodox website. We are not Greeks. We don't ascribe to the "beauty is truth, and truth beauty" (to paraphrase another poem) world view.

A gourmet dish of pork is still pork. I once read an article about a caterer (I think he calls himself Trayf) who serves "updated" Jewish cuisine. Think Bubby's potato Kugel recipe, stuffed w pulled pork, or chulent with ham chunks. Beautifully plated, gourmet, traditional recipe Trayf food is still Trayf!

The poem is beautifully written. It's still Trayf.

I was reluctant to post at first, because I didn't want to deal with the inevitable flaming I will no doubt get. But I feel strongly that it's necessary to protest.

pause

Mon, Apr 23 2018, 8:24 am

debsey wrote:

You are 100% right.

Belief in the yud gimmel ikrim is a pre-req to joining this site. Did you report it?

InnerMe

Mon, Apr 23 2018, 12:50 pm

Looking Back
by Edgar A. Guest

I might have been rich if I'd wanted the gold
instead of the friendships I've made.
I might have had fame if I'd sought for renown
in the hours when I purposely played.
Now I'm standing to-day on the far edge of life,
and I'm just looking backward to see
What I've done with the years and the days that were mine,
and all that has happened to me.

I haven't built much of a fortune to leave
to those who shall carry my name,
And nothing I've done shall entitle me now
to a place on the tablets of fame.
But I've loved the great sky and its spaces of blue;
I've lived with the birds and the trees;
I've turned from the splendor of silver and gold
to share in such pleasures as these.

I've given my time to the children who came;
together we've romped and we've played,
And I wouldn't exchange the glad hours spent
with them for the money that I might have made.
I chose to be known and be loved by the few,
and was deaf to the plaudits of men;
And I'd make the same choice should the chance
come to me to live my life over again.

I've lived with my friends and I've shared in their joys,
known sorrow with all of its tears;
I have harvested much from my acres of life,
though some say I've squandered my years.
For much that is fine has been mine to enjoy,
and I think I have lived to my best,
And I have no regret, as I'm nearing the end,
for the gold that I might have possessed.

DVOM

Mon, Apr 23 2018, 1:04 pm

Like this thread!

one of my favorites:

This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,
Sails the unshadowed main,—
The venturous bark that flings
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings,
And coral reefs lie bare,
Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.

Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl;
Wrecked is the ship of pearl!
And every chambered cell,
Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell,
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell,
Before thee lies revealed,—
Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed!

Year after year beheld the silent toil
That spread his lustrous coil;
Still, as the spiral grew,
He left the past year’s dwelling for the new,
Stole with soft step its shining archway through,
Built up its idle door,
Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.

Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee,
Child of the wandering sea,
Cast from her lap, forlorn!
From thy dead lips a clearer note is born
Than ever Triton blew from wreathèd horn!
While on mine ear it rings,
Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings:—

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past!
Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,
Till thou at length art free,
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life’s unresting sea!

-Holmes

InnerMe

Mon, Apr 23 2018, 1:11 pm

And how can I forget this?? If I'd have to pick an absolute favorite I think this would be the one.

Quote:

Oh, the Places You'll Go!
Dr. Suess

Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself
Any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.

You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
You're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

And you may not find any
You'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
You'll head straight out of town.

It's opener there
In the wide open air.

Out there things can happen
And frequently do
To people as brainy
And footsy as you.

And when things start to happen,
Don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too.

OH!
THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!

You'll be on your way up!
You'll be seeing great sights!
You'll join the high fliers
Who soar to high heights.

You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don't
Because, sometimes, you won't.
You'll get mixed up, of course,
As you already know.
You'll get mixed up
With many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
And remember that Life's
A Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)

KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!

So...
Be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
Or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
You're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!

crust

Mon, Apr 23 2018, 1:39 pm

InnerMe wrote:

I love this

amother

Lemon

Mon, Apr 23 2018, 2:44 pm

I found this poem recently, after my brother passed away suddenly. He wrote it 4 years ago, when he was twenty.

This poem comforts me, gives me hope that maybe my brother wouldn't find his death as tragic as it was to me. Maybe he was curious, maybe he was hopeful and maybe he was a bigger believer in Hashem's goodness than I am.

I saw my path ahead,
disappearing into a darkening forest
between walls of trees,
and in the bleeding earth-
my feet took root.

And for a fleeting moment, I could hear
the leaves whispering their song,
and I wanted to fly up and hear
that achingly beautiful melody

The rain came, washing down my face,
pooling up inside my very being,
mingling with fresh tears. And the wind-
cold and desparate, froze me deep within,
weighing me down.

And for a fleeting moment, I could touch
the edge of that grey, numbing pain;
and I wanted to fly up high,
to catch a glimpse of the light...
to see the light...

They say the sky, blue above us,
is filled with shimmering lights,
perhaps I shall too, some day, see for myself
perhaps some day...

I fell silently to the ground
I shut my eyes, and sealed my heart
and I felt a load being lifted,
as my pain, my loneliness, slowly disappeared.

And for a fleeting moment, I could escape,
like a feather on a bird's wing
soaring higher, higher,
and I caught a glimpse of that light,
that beautiful, shimmering light

fmt4

Mon, Apr 23 2018, 4:12 pm

amother wrote:

Wow.

amother

Apricot

Mon, Apr 23 2018, 10:23 pm

debsey wrote:

Wow. Reporting a poem? That's stooping to an all time low.

Kiwi13

Mon, Apr 23 2018, 10:33 pm

DVOM wrote:

One of my very favorite poems! I chose this poem for a project I did once for a public speaking class in college.

mom_13

Mon, Apr 23 2018, 11:04 pm

Omg excuse me for thinking selfishly but I think this thread was created for me! I have a deep obsession with poems that started since I learned how to write them! Love it!

This is my absolute favorite by Langston Hughes
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.

In second place, Emily Dickinson,

I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!

How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To tell one’s name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!
This poem speaks to the part of me that loves my privacy! 😄

Followed by another one of her poems,

hope
Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.