I need to read one for school tommorow
make sure it's school appropriate
Here's a nice E. E. Cummings poem: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15402
Quote from: Houdini on May 04, 2008, 07:03:11 PM
Here's a nice E. E. Cummings poem: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15402
something i can read and people will get
Quote from: Cameron on May 04, 2008, 07:05:00 PM
something i can read and people will get
Read The Odyssey.
Furry Bear
If I were a bear,
And a big bear too,
I shouldnâ,,,t much care
If it froze or snew;
I shouldnâ,,,t much mind
If it snowed or friz â,”
Iâ,,,d be all fur-lined
With a coat like his!
For Iâ,,,d have fur boots and a brown fur wrap,
And brown fur knickers and a big fur cap.
Iâ,,,d have a fur muffle-ruff to cover my jaws,
And brown fur mittens on my big brown paws.
With a big brown furry-down up to my head,
Iâ,,,d sleep all the winter in a big fur bed.
- Winnie the Pooh
Quote from: Soup on May 04, 2008, 07:09:18 PM
Furry Bear
If I were a bear,
And a big bear too,
I shouldnâ,,,t much care
If it froze or snew;
I shouldnâ,,,t much mind
If it snowed or friz â,”
Iâ,,,d be all fur-lined
With a coat like his!
For Iâ,,,d have fur boots and a brown fur wrap,
And brown fur knickers and a big fur cap.
Iâ,,,d have a fur muffle-ruff to cover my jaws,
And brown fur mittens on my big brown paws.
With a big brown furry-down up to my head,
Iâ,,,d sleep all the winter in a big fur bed.
- Winnie the Pooh
Soup, I'm in love with you.
but this will not do.
Read the Iliad or the Epic of Gilgamesh.
Every reply to this thread warrants a "fuck you"
Hang on, he's not a well know poet... I'll find something else
Roses are red
and ready for plucking
You're sixteen
and ready for high school
Quote from: Your Posting Rival on May 04, 2008, 07:12:31 PM
I recommend it to everyone, but... "First they came"
OH GOOD WE JUST FINISHED READING ANNE FRANK
Quote from: Cameron on May 04, 2008, 07:13:55 PM
OH GOOD WE JUST FINISHED READING ANNE FRANK
Poet isn't well known though. He's only known for that poem.
If you need another I could find something
Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
Quote from: Your Posting Rival on May 04, 2008, 07:17:01 PM
Poet isn't well known though. He's only known for that poem.
If you need another I could find something
NO IT'S PERFECT
http://www.bigeye.com/donotgo.htm
"Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night" by Dylan Thomas
Quote from: Captain Wrench on May 04, 2008, 07:18:29 PM
Where the Sidewalk Ends by Shel Silverstein
I used to have a book of all these Shel Silverstein poems. I wonder what ever happened to it.
Quote from: idunnlol on May 04, 2008, 07:20:14 PM
I used to have a book of all these Shel Silverstein poems. I wonder what ever happened to it.
It was lost in the great chicago pm purge of 1947
"Nobody Knows This Little Rose" by Emily Dickinson.
Quote from: General Socks on May 04, 2008, 07:26:05 PM
"Nobody Knows This Little Rose" by Emily Dickinson.
OMG i LOVE Emily Dickinson
I'm severely retarded and thought her poem on that buzzing fly was funny
Boa Constrictor
Oh, I'm being eaten
By a boa constrictor,
A boa constrictor,
A boa constrictor,
I'm being eaten by a boa constrictor,
And I don't like it--one bit.
Well, what do you know?
It's nibblin' my toe.
Oh, gee,
It's up to my knee.
Oh my,
It's up to my thigh.
Oh, fiddle,
It's up to my middle.
Oh, heck,
It's up to my neck.
Oh, dread,
It's upmmmmmmmmmmffffffffff . . .
Shel Silverstein
He's gettin into some deep stuff here.
Quote from: Clucky et al. on May 04, 2008, 09:24:17 PM
I'm severely retarded and thought her poem on that buzzing fly was funny
"I heard a fly buzz when I died;
The stillness round my form
Was like the stillness in the air
Between the heaves of storm.
The eyes beside had wrung them dry,
And breaths were gathering sure
For that last onset, when the king
Be witnessed in his power.
I willed my keepsakes, signed away
What portion of me I
Could make assignable,--and then
There interposed a fly,
With blue, uncertain, stumbling buzz,
Between the light and me;
And then the windows failed, and then
I could not see to see."
The Weary Blues by Langston Hughes
Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,
Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,
I heard a Negro play.
Down on Lenox Avenue the other night
By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light
He did a lazy sway ....
He did a lazy sway ....
To the tune o' those Weary Blues.
With his ebony hands on each ivory key
He made that poor piano moan with melody.
O Blues!
Swaying to and fro on his rickety stool
He played that sad raggy tune like a musical fool.
Sweet Blues!
Coming from a black man's soul.
O Blues!
In a deep song voice with a melancholy tone
I heard that Negro sing, that old piano moan--
"Ain't got nobody in all this world,
Ain't got nobody but ma self.
I's gwine to quit ma frownin'
And put ma troubles on the shelf."
Thump, thump, thump, went his foot on the floor.
He played a few chords then he sang some more--
"I got the Weary Blues
And I can't be satisfied.
Got the Weary Blues
And can't be satisfied--
I ain't happy no mo'
And I wish that I had died."
And far into the night he crooned that tune.
The stars went out and so did the moon.
The singer stopped playing and went to bed
While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.
He slept like a rock or a man that's dead.