It shouldn’t come as much of a surprise that Edgar Allan Poe is my favorite poet, since I imitate (or try to) his rhyme-scheme so much. Here are snippets of my favorites of Poe’s poems, as well as other favorites:
From Annabel Lee:
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.
From The Bells:
Hear the mellow wedding bells,
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight!
From the molten-golden notes,
And an in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells,bells,
Bells, bells, bells-
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!
The Bells is one of my favorites because he captures the echo and, yes, tintinnabulation of the bells so well. I love it.
As a proud graduate of Rutgers University, I’d be remiss to not include Joyce Kilmer’s Trees poem, (which I really do like):
- I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
- A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
- A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
- A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
- Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
- Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
- And I’ve always liked Maya Angelou’s Phenomenal Woman. Here’s a piece of it:
- Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
- And finally, one non-rhyming poem, which is actually a soliloquy, but which has always stirred my heart, from James Joyce’s novel Ulysses:
- and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.
- Favorite poems? Poets? I’m always on the lookout!