Share your favourite poems here

Speaking of death, Sara Teasdale gave us what might be the best burn I've ever read:

When I am dead and over me bright April
Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
Tho' you should lean above me broken-hearted,
I shall not care.

I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
When rain bends down the bough,
And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
Than you are now.
 
Speaking of death, Sara Teasdale gave us what might be the best burn I've ever read:

When I am dead and over me bright April
Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
Tho' you should lean above me broken-hearted,
I shall not care.

I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
When rain bends down the bough,
And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
Than you are now.
Ouch
 
"How to Write a Chinese Poem"

"A well-known Japanese poet was asked how to compose a Chinese poem.
"'The usual Chinese poem is four lines,' he explained. 'The first line contains the initial phase; the second line, the continuation of that phase; the third line turns from this subject and begins a new one; and the fourth line brings the first three lines together. A popular Japanese song illustrates this:
Two daughters of a silk merchant live in Kyoto.
The elder is twenty, the younger, eighteen.
A soldier may kill with his sword,
But these girls slay men with their eyes.'"


From Zen Flesh, Zen Bones pp. 72-73 (DoubleDay Anchor circa 1965)
 
I'm going to make use of my free will to jabber before you can see the poem. This poem is my favorite because before it, I did not get poetry. I could acknowledge that something had good rhythm or rhyme. I could comment on the florid metaphors and interesting use of language. But there wasn't any emotional spark, it was just cold, calculating grading.

This is the first one where it clicked.


"Where Did the Handsome Beloved Go?" By Jalal Al-Din Rumi

Where did the handsome beloved go?
I wonder, where did that tall, shapely cypress tree go?

He spread his light among us like a candle.
Where did he go? So strange, where did he go without me?

All day long my heart trembles like a leaf.
All alone at midnight, where did that beloved go?

Go to the road, and ask any passing traveler — 
That soul-stirring companion, where did he go?

Go to the garden, and ask the gardener — 
That tall, shapely rose stem, where did he go?

Go to the rooftop, and ask the watchman — 
That unique sultan, where did he go?

Like a madman, I search in the meadows!
That deer in the meadows, where did he go?

My tearful eyes overflow like a river — 
That pearl in the vast sea, where did he go?

All night long, I implore both moon and Venus — 
That lovely face, like a moon, where did he go?

If he is mine, why is he with others?
Since he’s not here, to what “there” did he go?

If his heart and soul are joined with God,
And he left this realm of earth and water, where did he go?

Tell me clearly, Shams of Tabriz,
Of whom it is said, “The sun never dies” — where did he go?
 
@Pending - it seems we are told to avoid being repetitive in prose, but it's a very important element in poetry
 
Back
Top