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Question: What are your favorite poems!?
Best Answer - Chosen by Asker:
None of yours, that's for sure!.

As for egomaniacs, they're usually control freaks as well!. Like giving people ultimatums and manipulating their bahaviour!. Such as "Elaine, don't you have anything to do with him or you're off the book!."

And thus I leave you to your own little world and tiny mind!.Www@QuestionHome@Com

Some of my favorite poems are Petrarchian sonnets, written in English and French!. also many of the poems in Baudelaire's "Les Fleurs du Mal," tanslated literally into "Flowers of Evil!." I also like compilations of contemporary poetry and poetry about animals, such as those found in a recently published book titled "Pavlov's Cat!."

Here is one of my favorite animal poems from Pavlov's Cat:

Lines of Demarcation
by TD Euwaite

Black Mud Dauber glides in the breezless air
In and out through a hole in the screen I never patched
Between the windows, he builds his adobe hacienda
And now there are two busy do-it-yourselfers

The long brown hollow slowly turns gray
As the mud dries and solidifies their lair
I respect the claim they have made
I regard the stinger they brandish

Next spring, I will clean away the abandoned nest
For now, live and let live in peaceful coexistenceWww@QuestionHome@Com

now, if you were teaching creative

writing, he asked, what would you

tell them!?

I'd tell them to have an unhappy love

affair, hemorrhoids, bad teeth

and to drink cheap wine,

to keep switching the head of their

bed from wall to wall

and then I'd tell them to have

another unhappy love affair

and never to use a silk typewriter


avoid family picnics

or being photographed in a rose


read Hemingway only once,

skip Faulkner

ignore Gogol

stare at photos of Gertrude Stein

and read Sherwood Anderson in bed

while eating Ritz crackers,

realize that people who keep

talking about sexual liberation

are more frightened than you are!.

listen to E!. Power Biggs work the

organ on your radio while you're

rolling Bull Durham in the dark

in a strange town

with one day left on the rent

after having given up

friends, relatives and jobs!.

never consider yourself superior and /

or fair

and never try to be!.

have another unhappy love affair!.

watch a fly on a summer curtain!.

never try to succeed!.

don't shoot pool!.

be righteously angry when you

find your car has a flat tire!.

take vitamins but don't lift weights or jog!.

then after all this

reverse the procedure!.

have a good love affair!.

and the thing

you might learn

is that nobody knows anything--

not the State, nor the mice

the garden hose or the North Star!.

and if you ever catch me

teaching a creative writing class

and you read this back to me

I'll give you a straight A

right up the pickle


There are so many so many poems I love TD!.!.!.infact the life is all about poetry!.!.!.everything I read, I love!.!.!.I love to read everything!.

here is one that's a favourite of mine!.

Fear No More (From Cymbeline by Shakespeare)

Fear no more the heat o' the sun;
Nor the furious winter's rages,
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages;
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney sweepers come to dust!.

Fear no more the frown of the great,
Thou art past the tyrant's stroke:
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust!.

Fear no more the lightning-flash,
Nor the all-dread thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan;
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust!.

No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have;
And renowned be thy grave! Www@QuestionHome@Com

"Leda and the Swan" by William Butler Yeats

A sudden blow: the great wings beating still
Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed
By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill,
He holds her helpless breast upon his breast!.

How can those terrified vague fingers push
The feathered glory from her loosening thighs!?
And how can body, laid in that white rush,
But feel the strange heart beating where it lies!?

A shudder in the loins engenders there
The broken wall, the burning roof and tower
And Agamemnon dead!.
Being so caught up,
Did she put on his knowledge with his power
Before the indifferent beak could let her drop!?


by: George Gordon (Lord) Byron (1788-1824)

I had a dream, which was not all a dream!.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went--and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light:
And they did live by watchfires--and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings--the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consum'd,
And men were gather'd round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other's face;
Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
A fearful hope was all the world contain'd;
Forests were set on fire--but hour by hour
They fell and faded--and the crackling trunks
Extinguish'd with a crash--and all was black!.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
The flashes fell upon them; some lay down
And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smil'd;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed
Their funeral piles with fuel, and look'd up
With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
The pall of a past world; and then again
With curses cast them down upon the dust,
And gnash'd their teeth and howl'd: the wild birds shriek'd
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawl'd
And twin'd themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless--they were slain for food!.
And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again: a meal was bought
With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
All earth was but one thought--and that was death
Immediate and inglorious; and the pang
Of famine fed upon all entrails--men
Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
The meagre by the meagre were devour'd,
Even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one,
And he was faithful to a corse, and kept
The birds and beasts and famish'd men at bay,
Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead
Lur'd their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
But with a piteous and perpetual moan,
And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
Which answer'd not with a caress--he died!.
The crowd was famish'd by degrees; but two
Of an enormous city did survive,
And they were enemies: they met beside
The dying embers of an altar-place
Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things
For an unholy usage; they rak'd up,
And shivering scrap'd with their cold skeleton hands
The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
Blew for a little life, and made a flame
Which was a mockery; then they lifted up
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld
Each other's aspects--saw, and shriek'd, and died--
Even of their mutual hideousness they died,
Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
Famine had written Fiend!. The world was void,
The populous and the powerful was a lump,
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless--
A lump of death--a chaos of hard clay!.
The rivers, lakes and ocean all stood still,
And nothing stirr'd within their silent depths;
Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
And their masts fell down piecemeal: as they dropp'd
They slept on the abyss without a surge--
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The moon, their mistress, had expir'd before;
The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need
Of aid from them--She was the Universe!.


Ooh, I'm going to have fun reading through all these! As you too, no doubt!. Don't think you're fooling anyone!.!.!.!.

Dulce et Decorum Est - Wilfred Owen

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks
Knock kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And toward our distant rest began to trudge!.
Men marched asleep!. many had lost their boots!.
But limped on, blood-shod!. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that fell behind!.

GAS! Gas! Quick boys! --An ecstasy of fumbling;
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone stillwas yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime - -
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning!.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning!.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin,
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old lLe: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori!.

also 'Forgotten Sons' by Marillion
'Foreign Affair' & 'Small Change' both by Tom Waits
Proverbs of Hell by William Blake

These are just some!.!.!.!.Www@QuestionHome@Com

luck of the draw i get to answer after this lano woodknot again!.

i like the Shel Silverstein writings, and
Evadne Terra wrote a long series awhile back!. i liked that alot!.
that wont copy too well in here!.
im terrible at picking favorites!.!.its hard!.
and i dont have any poet books!.!.pathetic!.Www@QuestionHome@Com

"The House Was Quiet and the World Was Calm," by Wallace Stevens!.


The More Loving One
by W!. H!. Auden

The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost


"Mattina" ( in english " Morning") by Giuseppe Ungaretti:



I light up
from the immense


Pablo Neruda--Cien Sonetos de Amor XVII

Elizabeth Bishop--Filling Station

I guess I'm a sucker for love !. !. !.Www@QuestionHome@Com

All my favorite poems are written by Martians!.Www@QuestionHome@Com

i've always loved the one where it's like "Quoth the raven, nevermore" It's my dads fault for reading it to me loads when i was younger!.Www@QuestionHome@Com

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner Www@QuestionHome@Com

poems with touch of nature ,world peace and loveWww@QuestionHome@Com

"The Ballad of Reading Gaol" by Oscar Wilde!. I won't post it here, it's very long and easy to find online!.Www@QuestionHome@Com

flying toasters mmmmmmmWww@QuestionHome@Com