April is national poetry month so I thought I’d seize the opportunity to post about my favourite poems. I occasionally write poetry but it always feels too personal to share. Plus I don’t think they’re actually very good. And I really can’t claim to be a poetry expert. I probably couldn’t tell you why a poem is good compared to on that isn’t but, much like art, I know what I like.
I first read this poem at school. It’s probably one that all English teachers share with their classes but it struck a cord with me and somehow it’s become one of my favourites. I can’t really explain why, it just moves me. And I guess that’s really all that matters.
Christina Rossetti – Remember
On winter afternoons
That oppresses, like the heft
Of cathedral tunes.Heavenly hurt it gives us;
We can find no scar,
But internal difference
Where the meanings, are.
None may teach it anything,
‘T is the seal, despair,
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the air.
When it comes, the landscape listens,
Shadows hold their breath;
When it goes, ‘t is like the distance
On the look of death.
I first heard this poem in the film Charlie St Cloud and I find it inspiring and hopeful.
E. E Cummings – Dive for dreams
dive for dreams
or a slogan may topple you
(trees are their roots
and wind is wind)
trust your heart
if the seas catch fire
(and live by love
though the stars walk backward)
honour the past
but welcome the future
(and dance your death
away at the wedding)
never mind a world
with its villains or heroes
(for good likes girls
and tomorrow and the earth)
in spite of everything
which breathes and moves, since Doom
(with white longest hands
neating each crease)
will smooth entirely our minds
-before leaving my room
i turn, and (stooping
through the morning) kiss
this pillow, dear
where our heads lived and were.
I found this poem through a blog a while ago and I’ve shared it before. Again I find it inspiring and I believe in its message.
Nobody but you – Charles Bukowski
nobody can save you but
yourself.
you will be put again and again
into nearly impossible
situations.
they will attempt again and again
through subterfuge, guise and
force
to make you submit, quit and /or die quietly
inside.
nobody can save you but
yourself
and it will be easy enough to fail
so very easily
but don’t, don’t, don’t.
just watch them.
listen to them.
do you want to be like that?
a faceless, mindless, heartless
being?
do you want to experience
death before death?
nobody can save you but
yourself
and you’re worth saving.
it’s a war not easily won
but if anything is worth winning then
this is it.
think about it.
think about saving your self.
your spiritual self.
your gut self.
your singing magical self and
your beautiful self.
save it.
don’t join the dead-in-spirit.
maintain your self
with humor and grace
and finally
if necessary
wager your self as you struggle,
damn the odds, damn
the price.
only you can save your
self.
do it! do it!
then you’ll know exactly what
I am talking about
It may not be classed as a poem but this Bible verse always struck me as having poetic sentiment and to me is more romantic than a lot of romance poems:
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
1 Cor 13:4-13
Finally, I had to include my favourite Shakespeare Sonnet:
#18
Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And Summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And oft’ is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d:
But thy eternal Summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
What’s your favourite poem?
Victoria
xoxo
suzicate
/ April 17, 2012The love chapter (bible) is wonderful…I like to read that sometimes and adore when it is read at weddings.
Did you know there is a writing book called “Write it Slant” and they preface the poem in it because it is a way of seeing and when you write that way you reach out and touch people.
Victoria-writes
/ April 17, 2012Not heard of that before but I think it’s great to write in a way that touches and moves people!
Bonnie
/ April 17, 2012I love that last one as well. Beautiful choices, Victoria.
Victoria-writes
/ April 17, 2012Thanks Bonnie!
kford2007
/ April 17, 2012One of my favorites is called Evening Solace by Charlotte Bronte.
The human heart has hidden treasures,
In secret kept, in silence sealed.
The thoughts, the hopes, the dreams, the pleasures,
Whose charms were broken if revealed.
And days may pass in gay confusion,
And nights in rosy riot fly,
While, lost in Fame’s or Wealth’s illusion,
The memory o the Past may die.
But there are hours of lonely musing,
Such as in evening silence come,
When, soft as birds their pinions closing,
The heart’s best feelings gather home.
Then in our souls there seems to languish
A tender grief that is not woe;
And thought that once wrung groans of anguish,
Now cause but some mild tears to flow.
And feelings, once as strong as passions,
Float softly back–a faded dream,
Our own sharp griefs and wild sensations,
The tale of others’ suffering seem.
Oh! When the heart is freshly bleeding,
How longs it for that time to be,
When through the mist of years receding,
Its woes but lives in reverie!
And it can dwell on moonlight glimmer,
On evening shade and loneliness;
And while the sky grows dim and dimmer,
Feel no untold and strange distress -
Only a deeper impulsive given
By lonely hour and darkened room,
To solemn thoughts that soar to heaven,
Seeking a life and world to come.
Victoria-writes
/ April 19, 2012That’s beautiful! I love Charlotte Bronte!
terry1954
/ April 17, 2012do not be ashamed to share. you have a way with words that become a part of us
Victoria-writes
/ April 19, 2012Aw sweet, thanks!
Pany
/ April 17, 2012I particularly like the first one
.
Victoria-writes
/ April 19, 2012Good choice
elvishjesusfreak
/ April 17, 2012The last two are my favorites
Victoria-writes
/ April 20, 2012Yay!
Ottabelle
/ April 17, 2012I once enjoyed Sylvia Plath’s poetry greatly, but I have never read many poems. A blogger i follow, writes amazing poetry and her’s is my first real excape into poetry. (bluesander.wordpress.com) I’ve begun to fiddle with it myself, trying to get some emotions out. I still find short stories to be my best way to do that.
However,
I loved the poem you shared called Nobody but you. I think it was something I needed to hear badly right now.
Victoria-writes
/ April 20, 2012Glad the poem struck a cord with you! Thanks for commenting
Kourtney Heintz
/ April 17, 2012Victoria, I love that Christina Rossetti poem. Still gives me a warm sad feeling. My favorite poem? So hard to pick. But this one I committed to memory because I loved it so much, so I guess it wins.
When You Are Old
By William Butler Yeats
When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
kford2007
/ April 19, 2012One of my favorites! Yeats has always been a favorite of mine. Beautiful choice.
Kourtney Heintz
/ April 19, 2012Thanks Jenny! It just resonated with me. In middle school. LOL. I was such a serious kid.
Victoria-writes
/ April 20, 2012Lovely! Thanks Kourtney
E.Arroyo
/ April 18, 2012Some nice ones. I don’t have any favorites.
Victoria-writes
/ April 20, 2012Thanks Liz!
4amWriter
/ April 18, 2012Great dedication to National Poetry Month. You listed some wonderful poetry, and if I could get my hands on my Yeats book of poetry I’d share one here…he’s one of my favorite poets but I don’t know any by heart.
I dabble in poetry, too, but don’t consider much of what I write is anything great. I would love to take a class in poetry to get a better understanding of rhythm/beat.
Victoria-writes
/ April 20, 2012Thanks! Yeah would be fun to take a class although I kind of like not really being an expert so I can just be free with it
Rach @ This Italian Family
/ April 18, 2012I have always loved that Remember poem! And 1 Cor 13 is also a favorite of mine!
thoughtsappear
/ April 19, 2012I tagged you today!
Victoria-writes
/ April 20, 2012Ooh thanks
countingducks
/ April 19, 2012I love this stuff. I must include some of my favourite lines,which come from W. H. Auden.
“But in my arms from break of day
Let the living creature lie
Mortal, Guilty
But to me the entirely beautiful”.
I’ve always loved the acceptance and understanding in those words
Victoria-writes
/ April 20, 2012Lovely, thanks for sharing!
redjim99
/ April 20, 2012How to pick a favourite? One of my favourites is Rosseti’s Goblin Fair, http://theotherpages.org/poems/roset01.html.
Or Pablo Neruda, Morning.
Naked you are simple as one of your hands;
Smooth, earthy, small, transparent, round.
You’ve moon-lines, apple pathways
Naked you are slender as a naked grain of wheat.
Naked you are blue as a night in Cuba;
You’ve vines and stars in your hair.
Naked you are spacious and yellow
As summer in a golden church.
Naked you are tiny as one of your nails;
Curved, subtle, rosy, till the day is born
And you withdraw to the underground world.
As if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores;
Your clear light dims, gets dressed, drops its leaves,
And becomes a naked hand again.
Seamus Heaney is another of my must reads too.
Jim
Victoria-writes
/ April 21, 2012I remember reading Goblin Fair at school. Thanks for sharing!
tinkerbelle86
/ April 22, 2012that christina rosetti poem is my favourite one. ever. except the pobble who has no toes,. but for entirely different reasons
Victoria-writes
/ April 23, 2012Well, we do seem to like the same things!! The pobble? I feel i’m missing a work of genius not knowing that one