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Favourite Poems

Pontalba, That is an amazingly beautiful poem, one of maybe two or three "bests" if I were into choosing bests. Maybe even the best of the best. It reaches right into my heart.
 
Don't think I've read anything by Ezra Pound before, an unusual poem, not sure if I like it or not, seems somehow a bit melancholy. Just noticed Peder's response, maybe I don't have a romantic soul!
 
Melancholy, absolutely! But if I could write just one like that I would be happy for life. :)
 
canuck said:
Don't think I've read anything by Ezra Pound before, an unusual poem, not sure if I like it or not, seems somehow a bit melancholy. Just noticed Peder's response, maybe I don't have a romantic soul!
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Yes. Melancholy, but the love, the true love! It just truly touched me.
 
Had a look at some other poems by Ezra Pound and I think I would have to take a course on how to 'read' what to me doesn't make a lot of sense. Maybe it's just the rhythm of the writing or a word picture that appeals. :confused:
 
Is it true love or unrequited love, because she didn't answer him and he had to go away head down because presumably he thought she didn't care?

either way another slightly depressing poem. Sorry these sorts of things don't hugely appeal to me.
 
I think it is simply sad. I much prefer poetry that makes me smile and see the world in a happier light then before I read the poem.
 
Hmm, more Pound, but in his imagist and rather vague period (1913):

In a Station of the Metro
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
 
I like Robert Frost's poetry, I can usually get the gist of his poems without a lot of wondering what he's talking about. Some of the ethereal poems leave me thinking that maybe the only person who knows what the poet is saying is the poet himself/herself. But then I haven't made a study of poetry and the English courses I did take were literature oriented. I too like uplifting poetry, even funny and nonsensical. I'd rather laugh than cry. :)
 
Funny, I didn't find my Pound selection fundamentally sad. The love that existed between them overwhelmed all else in my eyes. I guess I only truly felt the positive vibes from it. :)
 
pontalba said:
Funny, I didn't find my Pound selection fundamentally sad. The love that existed between them overwhelmed all else in my eyes. I guess I only truly felt the positive vibes from it. :)
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I just found it a bit melancholy pontalba, as I posted after Peder's post, I don't think I have a romantic soul or maybe it's just that I've passed the romantic stage.

I remember reading a poem by one of the 'famous' poets when I was in school and it involved planting the loved one's head in a pot of basil, I could probably find the poem if I had a look. Anyway, I told my Mum that was what I was going to do with her when she died so I'd always have her with me. Sounds extremely bizarre and awful now but I was probably not more than 12 or 13 at the time. Don't know why that particular thought has stayed with me. :eek:
 
Eek! Full stop with that one!

"Don't know why that particular thought has stayed with me. "

You have others? :eyes popping:
 
Whoa! :rofl

I guess it is melancholy canuck, I can't really deny that. I think one's life experiences just have that effect on us, for me, the melancholia is subsumed by the love. We know the love is not unrequited, we know they will be together, sometime, someplace. For me that is enough. I know it's not everyone's cuppa, which is great. :)
 
Peder said:
Eek! Full stop with that one!

"Don't know why that particular thought has stayed with me. "

You have others? :eyes popping:
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Sorry Peder, that is kind of a horror - must have been a weird kid! So who says that the poet didn't resonate with me. Am going to go and find the poem - it's by one of the 'greats' I believe and I'll see if Google can help. Promise I don't have any other disgusting thoughts. :devillook
 
Polly Parrot said:
Hmm, more Pound, but in his imagist and rather vague period (1913):

In a Station of the Metro
The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.
Click to expand...

Two syllables too long to be a haiku but close, very close. Very much in the style of a haiku.

Me likeee
 
Alba

As cool as the pale wet leaves
of lily-of-the-valley
She lay beside me in the dawn.

Ezra Pound
 
"Hope" is the thing with feathers

254

"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.

Emily Dickinson
 
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