I LIke this one, can't remember title or author:

As I was walking
out one day,
My head fell off
and rolled away.
I really do not
miss my head.
It doesn't bother me,
I'm dead.

I don't know if i'm allowed to do this but i had a spur of the moment poem that i'd like to share. oh and i don't really have a fovorite poem or poet i like what ever stikes a deep truth or a feeling.

so here is my poem...
__________________________________________________ ____________
~*Abyss of Life and Love of Thee*~
*~*
As I sit here I’ve come to see that
Life’s an illusion and live is a dream
When you’re gone you’ll know what it means
*~*
Blood is a life form we all need
When it drains your as dead as can be
If you haven’t a heart you’ve not a soul
Without both your nothing more
*~*
If Life’s an illusion
We cease to live
If loves a dream
We fall to nothingness
*~*
As I lay here writing this poem I realize
I’ve slipped into an abyss.
*~*
I have gone forever love
I’ll give thee one last kiss…
*~*
Slowly but surely I have faded to black…
Once an innocent loving child, eyes of pure azure,
Golden hair as fair as the gleaming sun.
*~*
I stand strong and tall before you
Armed with my guard held high
My black garments wrapped about my shoulders
As that of a soldier.
A mirror of a woman long since past,
The soul of which I privately beckon back.
*~*
My eyes iced over, as that of a crystal ball,
Chilling your delicate soul
You fall to your knees and beg back for the child,
That had once been me, who has long since gone, never to return.
*~*
I sit upon my throne, for which I have yet to adjourn
I gather my forces, all of which are an image of me
And watch in silence as all of you whom I had loved
Shred them of the life… yet to be.
*~*
A single tear recoils my restrained self control
It lingers and gleams a moment more, then
Falls to the floor… just as before.
I can’t even fathom how this began
But here and now it comes to an end.
*~*
As I have come to see that I had gotten it wrong
Love’s the illusion and life is the dream
Live every day as it were your last
~*Or be smited by my wrath!*~
*~*
_______________________________
So what did you guy's think???
I just thought I'd throw it out there and see if anyone liked it.
Well anyway. Psst. no stealing *cackles* hehehehe

Nice poem Ozzy. I like it!

I don't really have a fav poem, i've read too many good ones. My fav poet however is Roald Dahl. i visited england when i was six to see my grandparents and i've loved reading his work ever since.

This one my 6th grade teacher wrote for the end of the year

Today is your Day By Mrs. Novak

today is your Day
your off to great places
your off and away

you got brains in your head
you got feet in your shoes
you can steer yourself in any direction you choose


thats all that i can rember i'll edit when i found the paper.

I love Roald Dahl and humorous poems! I also like kind of childish ones like Goodnight Moon but don't hold it against me because I'm an immature little 14 and a half year old and I like Disney moviesbut not the stupid sequels though like Little Mermaid 2! Yuck!
Here's a little one, I made up myself: Pardon me for being rude, it was not me, it was my food--Just kidding...

here's my favourite school based poem.
student control gadget
Science teacher Robert west
Built a gadget ,which,when pressed
caused consternation far and wide
by zapping pupils in midstride
It froze all motion,stopped all noise
controlled the rowdy girls and boys,
and on fast forward was great fun
It made them get their schoolwork done
theirs hand a blur, their papers smoking,
with teachers cheering,laughing,joking.
And on rewind,(that too,was nice)
you could make them do their schoolwork twice.
Robert,now a millionaire,
selling gadgets everywhere.
Timid teachers,pupils bossed
pay in cash ,never mind the cost.

i like this one i like sad poems

Yesterday's goals, dim memories.
Dark saddened eyes, blurring with tears.
Painful scars borne; Love's history.
Futures crumble when doubt appears.

No brightly lit hope envisioned,
When following after harsh words.
Hurt soul splits in twain, partitioned.
Swooned by appeal - when numbness lured.

Apologies made, never bought.
Price paid turned out far too costly.
Though never known what would be wrought -
Must walk into the night softly.

One wish, only to be released.
Granted - now receive this token.
Words written in rhyme, love's deceased.
When promises made . . . were broken.

The Final Inspection

The soldier stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass,
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.
"Step forward now, you soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To My Church have you been true?"
The soldier squared his shoulders and
said, "No, Lord, I guess I ain't,
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can't always be a saint.
I've had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough,
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world is awfully rough.
But, I never took a penny
That wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime
When the bills got just too steep,
And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place
Among the people here,
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me here, Lord,
It needn't be so grand,
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand."
There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod,
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now, you soldier,
You've borne your burdens well,
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."



Nothing gold can stay

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

and

To The Virgins, To Make Much Of Time

Gather ye rose-buds while ye may,
Old Time is still a flying:
And this same flower that smiles today,
Tomorrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he's a getting;
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he's to setting.

That age is best, which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times, still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time;
And while ye may, go marry:
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.

aww! cool poems! i love poems...

i can't believe no one has said anything about emily dickinson.... oh well, i'm going to. this is my all-time favorite poem.

Except the heaven had come so near,
So seemed to choose my door,
The distance would not haunt me so;
I had not hoped before.

But just to hear the grace depart,
I never thought to see,
Afflicts me with a double loss,
'Tis lost, and lost to me.

Emily Dickinson is a great poet
Personalty I prefer Shakespeare
He was so romantic
He knew how to make a girl laugh
He knew what he was doing
Until he wrote Romeo and Juliet of course
His best play but so tragic and Macabre
Shakespeare was great

Emily was one of the best but not the best
She had lots of potential
She did what she loved
That's what I love about poets

Poets write what they feel and don't hold back

^ in some ways i agree, in others i don't. i love shakepeare's wit and romance, but i love the way emily dickinson put the human soul into words so perfectly, and elegantly. i think they're different types of poets.

another of my favorite poems is Elizabeth Bishop's Sestina:

September rain falls on the house.
In the failing light, the old grandmother
sits in the kitchen with the child
beside the Little Marvel Stove,
reading the jokes from the almanac,
laughing and talking to hide her tears.

She thinks that her equinoctial tears
and the rain that beats on the roof of the house
were both foretold by the almanac,
but only known to a grandmother.
The iron kettle sings on the stove.
She cuts some bread and says to the child,

It's time for tea now; but the child
is watching the teakettle's small hard tears
dance like mad on the hot black stove,
the way the rain must dance on the house.
Tidying up, the old grandmother
hangs up the clever almanac

on its string. Birdlike, the almanac
hovers half open above the child,
hovers above the old grandmother
and her teacup full of dark brown tears.
She shivers and says she thinks the house
feels chilly, and puts more wood in the stove.

It was to be, says the Marvel Stove.
I know what I know, says the almanac.
With crayons the child draws a rigid house
and a winding pathway. Then the child
puts in a man with buttons like tears
and shows it proudly to the grandmother.

But secretly, while the grandmother
busies herself about the stove,
the little moons fall down like tears
from between the pages of the almanac
into the flower bed the child
has carefully placed in the front of the house.

Time to plant tears, says the almanac.
The grandmother sings to the marvelous stove
and the child draws another inscrutable house.
~~~~~~
I've also written a few of my own:

Cold
~
I shiver
With cold that pervades
My soul.

I tremble
With fear that is
Tearing me down.

I am filled
With elusive hate
Surrounding me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~

Writer
~
I do not pour my soul into
Notes upon a staff,
Nor colors upon a canvas;
But into
Words on a page.

Words are my music;
The nuances of every
Syllable creating a
Soft, sweet song.

Words are my art;
The subtle meanings becoming
Swirling colors in a
Breathtaking image.

Wouldn't you know,
I happen to be a
Writer?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Love
~
Life cannot remain the same,
Once this sweet entity arises.
Vast emotions challenging the infinite
Engulf my heart, soul, and mind.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blue and Silver
~
The silver curls I long to feel
Between my fingers
Are coming ever closer,
Taunting me.

The cloudless blue eyes I long to hold
Forever in my heart,
Are scanning this room,
Free from me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

that has to be Willam shakespear And this is only one of my fave lines
(Romeo and juliet)

'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee
Take all myself.

I would hate to be her,she has long and hard lines in this play
I also love puck (Mid summers night dream)this is One of this jokster's best lines in this play:

Up and down, up and down,
I will lead them up and down:
I am fear'd in field and town:
Goblin, lead them up and down.

Well when i think about it i also like other parts of Shakespear too like this line sead by a twin named Dromeo in "A Comedy of Errors":

"We came into this world as brother to brother
and we shall go hand in hand,
not one before the other"

my favorite poem is
annabell lee by edger allan poe
i guess i like it because it rymes

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love —
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me —
Yes! — that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we —
Of many far wiser than we —
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling — my darling — my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

this is my favorite poem, mostly because i want someone to love me like this one day.


The Presence of Love

And in life's noisiest hour,
there whispers still the ceaseless love of thee
the heart's self-solace and soliloquy.

you mould my hopes, you fashion me within;
and to the leading love-throb in the heart
thro' all my being, thro' my pulses beat;
you lie in all my many thoughts, like light,
like the fair light of dawn, or summer eve
on rippling stream, or cloud-reflecting lake.
And looking to the heaven, that bends above you,
how oft! i bless the lot, that made me love you.

-Samuel Taylor Coleridge