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Favorite lines of poetry


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#21 le chat serein

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    And whither then? I cannot say.

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Posted 10 July 2008 - 00:15

Lately these have been my favorite lines of poetry. The last four from Samuel T. Coleridge's Kublai Khan.

Weave a circle round him thrice
and close your eyes with holy dread
for he on honey-dew hath fed
and drunk the milk of Paradise.
Lectori salutem

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#22 the hobbit

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Posted 10 July 2008 - 00:26

Paradise Lost, John Milton
Book 3

"Hail holy Light, offspring of heaven first-born,
Or of th'eternal, co-eternal beam.
May I express thee unblam'd? Since God is light,
And never but in an unapproached light..."

It goes on for quite a while, and I don't want to burden you with the whole section, but I really like it.

The Raven also is one of my favorites.

Along with:

"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken:
The crownless again shall be king."

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#23 le chat serein

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    And whither then? I cannot say.

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Posted 10 July 2008 - 01:27

QUOTE(the hobbit @ Jul 9 2008, 08:26 PM) View Post
"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken:
The crownless again shall be king."


Good call, Hobbit. That reminds me of a few from that same book:

"The road goes ever on and on
down from the door where it began.
Now far away the road has gone,
and I must follow, if I can.

Pursuing it with weary feet,
until it joins some larger way,
where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
Lectori salutem

#24 Skyppere

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Posted 21 July 2008 - 20:32


Trauma by Brad Leithauser

You will carry this suture
Into the future.
The past never passes.
It simply amasses.

skyp

#25 Randal6393

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Posted 22 July 2008 - 00:35

Rufus,

Have you read Kipling's "The Last of the Light Brigade"?

Yours,
Randal

From a person's actions, we may infer attitudes, beliefs, --- and values. We do not know these characteristics outright. The human dichotomies of trust and distrust, honor and duplicity, love and hate --- all depend on internal states we cannot directly experience. Isn't this what adds zest to our life?
 


#26 Randal6393

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Posted 22 July 2008 - 00:40

Ah ha, another Kipling reader! Now I know why I enjoy your posts so much.

Yours,
Randal

From a person's actions, we may infer attitudes, beliefs, --- and values. We do not know these characteristics outright. The human dichotomies of trust and distrust, honor and duplicity, love and hate --- all depend on internal states we cannot directly experience. Isn't this what adds zest to our life?
 


#27 le chat serein

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Posted 22 July 2008 - 00:46

QUOTE (Randal6393 @ Jul 21 2008, 08:40 PM) <{POST_SNAPBACK}>
Ah ha, another Kipling reader! Now I know why I enjoy your posts so much.


Kipling is AWESOME!

My favorite line of his isn't poetry, though:

"I am the cat who walks by himself, and all places are alike to me." I love the Just So Stories!
Lectori salutem

#28 penburg

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Posted 22 July 2008 - 00:53

For some reason I never forgot Robert Frost's "Deparmental"...

No one stands round to stare.
It is nobody else's affair.
It couldn't be called ungentle.
But how thoroughly departmental.



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#29 feiye

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Posted 22 July 2008 - 03:11

The lines I use to test all pens is from Wilde's Ballad of Reading Gaol:

The vilest deeds like poison weeds
Bloom well in prison air
It is only what is good in man
That wastes and withers there
Pale Anguish holds the Gate
And the Warder is Despair.

Otherwise, one of my other favourites is The Lovesong of J Alfred Prufrock.
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#30 Jazzbaby

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Posted 25 July 2008 - 04:16

Into my heart an air that kills
From yon far country blows:

What are those blue remembered hills,
What spires, what farms are those?

That is the land of lost content,
I see it shining plain,
The happy highways where I went
And cannot come again.

A.E. Houseman
"Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears
Her noblest work she classes, O,
Her prentice han' she tried on man,
An' then she made the lasses, O."
- Robert Burns



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#31 Strang

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Posted 25 July 2008 - 10:29

QUOTE (runnjump @ Jun 12 2008, 10:35 PM) <{POST_SNAPBACK}>
We live in a very prosaic world, yet Frost astutely noted that the poet's job was to lodge a few lines where they will be hard to get rid of. What lines have been most memorable to you?

ID the lines if you like, but it's more fun to let others guess.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Poetry:
I, too, dislike it.
Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it,
One discovers in it, after all, a place for the genuine.

---------------------------------------------------------------

The art of losing isn't hard to master.

---------------------------------------------------------------

One can think of no devotion
greater than being shore to the ocean,
holding the curve of one position
counting an endless repetition.



Here's one:

When I died
they washed me out of the turret
with a hose.
Yes, yes I do owe you a letter.

#32 FieryPhoenix

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Posted 31 July 2008 - 09:08

Paradise Lost by Milton, Book I lines 253-255:

A mind not to be chang'd by Place or Time.
The mind is its own place, and in it self
Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.

Edited by FieryPhoenix, 31 July 2008 - 09:14.

Discontent is the first step in the progress of a man or a nation. - Oscar Wilde
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#33 rogerb

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Posted 31 July 2008 - 11:10

Thank you for raising this subject; it has made me realise that the version of "The Highwayman"(Alfred Noyes) which I learned at school was heavily bowdlerised, and had the most dramatic and exciting verses omitted (too 'bloody' I suppose!).

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight across the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding--
Riding--riding--
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door.
If you make people think they're thinking, they'll love you; But if you really make them think, they'll hate you. Don Marquis US humorist (1878 - 1937)

#34 jack shephard

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Posted 01 August 2008 - 03:20

so many gems here already! tennyson's ulysses...

"I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'
Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!"

which leads us to neil young's my my hey hey roflmho.gif

"My my, hey hey
Rock and roll is here to stay
It's better to burn out
Than it is to rust
My my, hey hey."

be thyself. to thyself be. enough.

#35 Jasper

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Posted 01 August 2008 - 11:57

A lady came into our gallery last night and told my about this poem. Later i googled it and particularly liked these lines. I'll let you guess the title...smile.gif

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.

~Jas

#36 Jasper

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Posted 01 August 2008 - 12:15

And these are a couple favorites...

A Nice Place

Outside the rest home
resting in his wheelchair in the shade,
my father said:

"This is a nice place"

and i couldn't tell if he meant
the rest home in general,

the shadey space with the birds chirping,
fountain flowing,
spring breezes blowing,

or the world.

~Lawson Fusao Inada

__ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___

When our habitual patterns
begin to soften
then we'll begin to see the faces
and hear the words
of those
who are talking to us.

~Pema Chodron


~Jas

#37 artdeg

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Posted 03 August 2008 - 22:04

"Why do men go to war? Because the women are watching" - Lord Acton

"life is what you do while your waiting to die" - ?

I used both quotes in term papers.

#38 Jazzbaby

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Posted 04 August 2008 - 00:20

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

William Butler Yeats
"Auld Nature swears, the lovely dears
Her noblest work she classes, O,
Her prentice han' she tried on man,
An' then she made the lasses, O."
- Robert Burns



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#39 cfyoung

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Posted 04 August 2008 - 01:01

Love: Beginnings
by C.K. Williams

They're at that stage where so much desire streams between them, so much
frank need and want,
so much absorption in the other and the self and the self-admiring entity
and unity they make—
her mouth so full, breast so lifted, head thrown back so far in her laughter
at his laughter,
he so solid, planted, oaky, firm, so resonantly factual in the headiness of
being craved so,
she almost wreathed upon him as they intertwine again, touch again,
cheek, lip, shoulder, brow,
every glance moving toward the sexual, every glance away soaring back in
flame into the sexual—
that just to watch them is to feel again that hitching in the groin, that fill-
ing of the heart,
the old, sore heart, the battered, foundered, faithful heart, snorting again,
stamping in its stall.
"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music." -- Friedrich Nietzsche

#40 mwpannell

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Posted 04 August 2008 - 03:27

So many delightful possibilities! Honestly though runnjump, when you said "most memorable" what came to mind was:

Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

I mean, who can forget that!

Bananafish, it was great to recall Poe's Annabel Lee, and Strang, the same for Death of The Ball Turret Gunner. Though prose and not poetry, that one made me recall a striking short story by Roald Dahl about a WWI ace returning from a mission only to discover he was wounded (to put it mildly). Such striking language and story telling but the title escapes me now. Anyone to know it?

Michael






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