Words Fail Me: Is there such a thing as good Poetry?

[TimeWizard]

Like the Laughing Man who doesn't place any value in digital information because he can manipulate it so easy, I have never once been moved by poetry because of how easy it was in school to make it say any damn thing you want. To take the water out of rain. To measure the marigolds. To find some wood path. I hate Americana. No New England cottages, no light houses. No dusty sunsets over the great mother road. Is there good poetry? I mean, good poetry? Not "oh its so pretty" or "Oh I wrote this and my teacher said it was nice its about the time my mom died". I want meaning. I hate poetry. I know roses are nice and ****. nothing shakespeare ever wrote in 14 lines has mattered. Don't tell me about no swans. And no cosmic Jesus's neither.

So, is there any good poetry?

[Eakin]

Well, I'm not a poetry fan myself, but I'm not going to write off an entire format because you haven't found any good ones yet.

Some people prefer Sci-fi novels over mysteries. By the same token, try looking for a funny limerick or something instead of some deeply moving romantic sonnet.

[Friv]

Like the Laughing Man who doesn't place any value in digital information because he can manipulate it so easy, I have never once been moved by poetry because of how easy it was in school to make it say any damn thing you want. To take the water out of rain. To measure the marigolds. To find some wood path. I hate Americana. No New England cottages, no light houses. No dusty sunsets over the great mother road. Is there good poetry? I mean, good poetry? Not "oh its so pretty" or "Oh I wrote this and my teacher said it was nice its about the time my mom died". I want meaning. I hate poetry. I know roses are nice and ****. nothing shakespeare ever wrote in 14 lines has mattered. Don't tell me about no swans. And no cosmic Jesus's neither.

So, is there any good poetry?

Do you like songs?

Rap music is just poetry with a beat, and most songs are essentially poetry (several of Leonard Cohen's songs are actual poems that he set to music after the fact).

It's hard to say what you want, though. Here, try some Al Purdy (http://nestor.wlu.ca/blog/?p=339); he mixes imagery and sentimentality with brilliant, acerbic wit..

[pffh]

If you want real poetry you have to look further then the nancy pancies of modern poetry and love dovey stuff of the English and the French. No what you want my friend is vikings.

One of the strongest poem I have read is one by Egill Skallagrímsson (if you don't know who he is then lets just say that saying he killed people would be an understatement) after one of his son dies at sea and his other son dies from a fever. You can really feel the sadness as he laments his sons death and the anger as he practically shouts at Ægir, the god of the sea, and tells him to come and face him so he can beat the crap out of him and how he tells Óðinn he better take good care of his sons or else.

Really real poetry is viking poetry. The feelings are fuller, the meanings are deeper and more varied, the metaphors better and you haven't seen trash talk until you read hate poetry by them.

The only problem you might have is that if you don't speak Icelandic the translations might be a bit lacking. You see viking poetry has both a couple of very rigid forms and traditions and each word or a combination of words can mean a dozen different things so they are carefully chosen and placed and that can get lost in the translations.

[chiasaur11]

Yeats.

The Second Coming.

So good.

[The Glyphstone]

I still think Shel Silverstein is one of the best poets in existence.

[Das Platyvark]

Rimbaud. Rimbaud is good. Seriously, it's some of the only poetry to actually cause my jaw to drop. If you can read it in French, so much the better, but a good English translation is fine.

EDIT: I don't think I've ever been really moved by something that rhymed.

[Ravens_cry]

Aye, aye there is such a thing as good poetry.
It's not always easy to find, but poetry can have a rhythm to it, even when it doesn't rhyme, that just adds a special flow that can be a pleasure to read, that can create a certain mood almost the way music can.
Besides rap of course, most song lyrics can be considered poetry.
Poetry can also be evocative without being literal in a way that can create a feeling that is almost super-literal. I recently read a line that described ice being 'nailed to the streets with stars'.
Now, of course, stars were not literally nailed to the road, nor was the ice, and yet when I think about it, I think of the morning sun glaring off an avenue, twinkling like, well, stars. This in turn,brings me back to days like that, cold but brilliant, I can feel my frosty fingers, huddling in my winter parka, a long scratchy scarf wrapped tight around my neck, my eyes squinting in the glare.
None of that would have been if it had simply been described as "The morning roads were icy."
Aye, there is indeed good poetry.

[Mewtarthio]

Like the Laughing Man who doesn't place any value in digital information because he can manipulate it so easy, I have never once been moved by poetry because of how easy it was in school to make it say any damn thing you want.

School is quite possibly the worst place to gain an appreciation for poetry. You really can't enjoy something if you're constantly trying to pick it apart (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EgYdhm_q7lg) to see how it works. Combine this with the fact that the average student has little to no exposure to poetry outside the classroom (music aside) and that books are actually a pretty poor medium for poetry (poems are meant to be heard; reading one from a book is like reading the screenplay of a movie or the walkthrough of a video game), and you've got a frighteningly effective system for making an entire form of expression seem uniformly dull.

tl;dr: Stop reading poetry, and for the love of Yeats stop studying it: Try listening to it instead.

[Ravens_cry]

Robert W. Service (http://www.internal.org/Robert_W_Service) has a rugged, running rhythm, that is quite unpretentious and very folksy.
It's really good stuff to read out loud in my opinion, or hear read.

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

I echo the poster celebrating Rimbaud: I would specifically recommend the poem "Le dormeur du val" (http://poesie.webnet.fr/lesgrandsclassiques/poemes/arthur_rimbaud/le_dormeur_du_val.html)

[Kindablue]

I'll give it a couple shots. They're short.

we had goldfish and they circled around and around
in the bowl on the table near the heavy drapes
covering the picture window and
my mother, always smiling, wanting us all
to be happy, told me, 'be happy Henry!'
and she was right: it's better to be happy if you
can
but my father continued to beat her and me several times a week while
raging inside his 6-foot-two frame because he couldn't
understand what was attacking him from within.

my mother, poor fish,
wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times a
week, telling me to be happy: 'Henry, smile!
why don't you ever smile?'

and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was the
saddest smile I ever saw

one day the goldfish died, all five of them,
they floated on the water, on their sides, their
eyes still open,
and when my father got home he threw them to the cat
there on the kitchen floor and we watched as my mother
smiled

-A Smile to Remember, C. Bukowski.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

- Hope is the thing with feathers, E. Dickinson.

[Liffguard]

The rain it raineth on the just,
And also on the unjust fella.
But chiefly on the just because
The unjust hath the just's umbrella.
- Charles Bowen

[Manga Shoggoth]

There is plenty of poetry that is full of meaning. However, judging by your comments it sounds like you are trying to listen with your fingers in your ears. (Although, depending on the poetry you have been studying, that could be entirely reasonable).

I have barely touched poetry since I left school because I was put off it at school, which sounds like your experience. I dislike Shakespeare for very much the same reasons. A shame, because I know there is some very good Shakespeare.


School is quite possibly the worst place to gain an appreciation for poetry. You really can't enjoy something if you're constantly trying to pick it apart (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EgYdhm_q7lg) to see how it works. Combine this with the fact that the average student has little to no exposure to poetry outside the classroom (music aside) and that books are actually a pretty poor medium for poetry (poems are meant to be heard; reading one from a book is like reading the screenplay of a movie or the walkthrough of a video game), and you've got a frighteningly effective system for making an entire form of expression seem uniformly dull.

This! So very this!

[Riverdance]

"In today's news a forum goer questions whether poetry is at all interesting, the forum goer who shall remain unnamed narrowly survived a subsequent assassination attempt by a peeved English professor. He was saved by a high school english student, who pulled the forum goer back on to the sidewalk just in time to save him from the english teachers speeding volvo." :smallbiggrin:

[Ninjadeadbeard]

TS Eliot.
Robert Frost.
Edgar Allen Poe.
Dr Seuss.
Shel Silverstein.
Bill Shakespeare.

You're welcome.

[Tebryn]

No one is going to mention the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam?

[Jaros]

A few months ago I watched a documentary made by and about a gay black community in the late 80s that was mostly poetry. It's called Tongues Untied and is amazing, definitely worth a look if you have the chance.

[Riverdance]

I went to a really funny slam poetry show once. It was hilarious. Like really good standup with a rhythm. :smallbiggrin:

[Gwyn chan 'r Gwyll]

I went to a really funny slam poetry show once. It was hilarious. Like really good standup with a rhythm. :smallbiggrin:

Oh, I love slam poetry. Not all of it is comedy, of course. Slam poetry is also great for REAL angry indignant, poignant stuff.

[Sneaky Weasel]

My favorite poem is, and has always been, Edgar Allen Poe. Particularly The Raven, but all of his poems are amazing. The Bells is just fantastic. I have to stop now, or this will turn into a rant about how awesome Poe is.:smallbiggrin:

[Maxios]

This is my favorite poem. It's very good:

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desart. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Here's a "funny" poem I wrote when I was eight (and, despite my best efforts, have memorized)

My name's Jebediah Jed and I gotta go pee but my bucket's in the shed, so I go on the roof and aim for my mean neighbor's head.

I also suggest you google for this dude named Billy Shakespeare. Sure, it takes him an entire flippin' paragraph to say something that would normally take a sentence, but he's still a decent writer.

[Dr. Simon]

Yes, there is good poetry. Unfortunately there's also a lot of bad poetry. And even more unfortunately it's largely a matter of personal taste as to which is which.

It sounds like you're not fond of the "romantics" kind of odes and elegies; I suggest you try something more modern as these tend to be a bit more earthy. And read aloud, and listen, and don't try to pick out specific meaning. A good poem uses words to paint an impression and each person can get something different out of it, and the same person can get different impressions from the same poem at different times of their lives.

I suggest to you:

Philip Larkin, particularly This Be The Verse (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qahT62n8tcA) - warning, contains robust language!
The Mersey Sound poets (Roger McGough, Adrien Henri and Brian Patten).
Carol Ann Duffy
Simon Armitage
Seamus Heaney
Sylvia Plath
Various First World War Poets (Rupert Brooke, Sigfried Sasson, Wilfred Owen - I defy anyone to remain unmoved by Dulce Et Decorum Est (http://www.warpoetry.co.uk/owen1.html)

None of them write about sunsets and daffodils (well, rarely, and there's usually a dark twist)

Edit: Oh, and although it's not strictly poetry (it's an audio play), I strongly recommend to anyone that they seek out a recording of Richard Burton reading Dylan Thomas' "Under Milk Wood". Now that is a masterclass in using the language and rythmn to evoke images and feelings. Other versions will do, but, oh, Richard Burton's richly sonorous Welsh tones...

[darthbobcat]

Has Rime of the Ancient Mariner been mentioned yet? That's my all time favorite.

Also, I was once in a small honors college class. Someone said, "Poetry sucks." And pretty much the whole group agreed, myself included. There's something wrong with how poetry is presented nowadays.

[Liffguard]

The Song of Wandering Aengus by Yeats

I WENT out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

[AtlanteanTroll]

Goethe. :smallamused:

*is smacked*

[Liffguard]

Some people mentioned slam poetry upthread? I don't really know much (ok anything) about slam poetry but here's a couple of performances by Taylor Mali that I like.
Link 1 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RxsOVK4syxU)
Link 2 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SCNIBV87wV4)

[Serpentine]

My favorite poem is, and has always been, Edgar Allen Poe. Particularly The Raven, but all of his poems are amazing. The Bells is just fantastic. I have to stop now, or this will turn into a rant about how awesome Poe is.:smallbiggrin:Yessss. Poe was going to be my recommendation, and I just adore The Bells in particular.
Most specifically, for the OP, I recommend reading Poe out loud - get into the rhythm of it, and imagine what it is he's describing.

Here's (http://www.heise.de/ix/raven/Literature/Lore/TheRaven.html) his most famous one, The Raven, and my favourite: The Bells (http://www.online-literature.com/poe/575/).

[Marillion]

Yessss. Poe was going to be my recommendation, and I just adore The Bells in particular.
Most specifically, for the OP, I recommend reading Poe out loud - get into the rhythm of it, and imagine what it is he's describing.

Here's (http://www.heise.de/ix/raven/Literature/Lore/TheRaven.html) his most famous one, The Raven, and my favourite: The Bells (http://www.online-literature.com/poe/575/).

On the subject of Edgar Allen Poe, this is my favorite reading of Annabel Lee (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D-fQ-V4jcpw) ever.

[Tiki Snakes]

Not 100% certain who the actual poet is, but this particular poem and recitation of it is certainly worth trying.
Yvette Mimieux & Ali Akbar Khan - Murdered Woman (http://youtu.be/crE7k7aJfxg)


A Martyr

Drawing by an unknown master

In the midst of perfume flasks, of sequined fabrics
And voluptuous furniture,
Of marble statues, pictures, and perfumed dresses
That trail in sumptuous folds,

In a warm room where, as in a hothouse,
The air is dangerous, fatal,
Where bouquets dying in their glass coffins
Exhale their final breath,

A headless cadaver pours out, like a river,
On the saturated pillow
Red, living blood, that the linen drinks up
As greedily as a meadow.

Like the pale visions engendered by shadows
And which hold our eyes riveted,
The head, its mane of hair piled up in a dark mass
And wearing precious jewels,

On the bedside table, like a ranunculus,
Reposes; and, empty of thoughts,
A stare, blank and pallid as the dawn,
Escapes from the upturned eyeballs.

On the bed, the nude torso shamelessly displays
With the most complete abandon
The secret splendor and fatal beauty
That nature had bestowed on her;

A rose stocking embroidered with gold clocks remains
On her leg like a souvenir;
The garter, like a hidden flashing eye,
Darts its glance of diamond brilliance.

The bizarre aspect of that solitude
And of a large, languid portrait
With eyes as provocative as the pose,
Reveals an unwholesome love,

Guilty joys and exotic revelries,
With infernal kisses
That delighted the swarm of bad angels
Hovering in the curtains' folds;

And yet one sees from the graceful slimness
Of the angular shoulders.
The haunches slightly sharp, and the waist sinuous
As a snake poised to strike,

That she's still quite young! — Had her exasperated soul
And her senses gnawed by ennui
Thrown open their gates to the thirsty pack
Of lost and wandering desires?

The vengeful man whom you could not with all your love
Satisfy when you were alive,
Did he use your inert, complacent flesh to fill
The immensity of his lust?

Reply, impure cadaver! and by your stiffened tresses
Raising you with a fevered arm,
Tell me, ghastly head, did he glue on your cold teeth
The kisses of the last farewell?

— Far from the sneering world, far from the impure crowd,
Far from curious magistrates,
Sleep in peace, sleep in peace, bizarre creature,
In your mysterious tomb;

Your mate roams o'er the world, and your immortal form
Watches over him when he sleeps;
Even as you, he will doubtless be faithful
And constant until death.


Poe is also classic. Especially the Raven, perhaps.
Choose your poison;
Christopher Lee (http://youtu.be/MyxsPHWSxlY)
James Earl Jones (http://youtu.be/sXU3RfB7308)
or Vincent Price? (http://youtu.be/T7zR3IDEHrM)
Alternatively, with a slightly different version which isn't really entirely Poe there's always Lou Reed (http://youtu.be/rckTOjag83w).

[Thanqol]

Try some minimalist poetry. I think it's perfection in language. Every word has a place, every word in it's place.


the bow, the arrow
the target
where is the archer?

*

as she lies over the body
she weeps and weeps
and searches for gold teeth

[Eldan]

I went to a really funny slam poetry show once. It was hilarious. Like really good standup with a rhythm. :smallbiggrin:

And here I was, about to say that I never had read any poetry I cared even a bit about.

Yes, go watch a good slam poetry show. It will change your opinion.

[TimeWizard]

It was perhaps an easy mistake to make, but I don't dislike poetry, nor am I ignorant of the value of the medium. Nor do I "have fingers in my ears", its just that the whole thing has been so cheapened for me by examination, and forced attempts by any tom **** and jane that I no longer care about poetry. There was once a time when I was thrilled at the very idea of Ozymandias, and I knew why the rose was sick, whose hair was nothing like the sun, what would be our luxury, etc... But as I've grown older I realize that like a young girl I was more "in love with love" then I was in love with poetry. You could call me a Romantic.

Let me by analogy ruin something (or perhaps not) for you as poetry was ruined for me, and that's the most basic type of poetry set to music: the love song. I can tell you that despite all the beautiful songs about all kinds of love (from Your Song's (Elton John) self depreciating beautiful reality to the tragic joy of Babylon (Don Mclean) I knew exactly at one moment the whole concept was crumpled up for me the first time I heard "I Love You Like A Love Song" by Selena Gomez. If you haven't heard it, take a minute and go listen to it. That feeling you feel, that sadness you hear is you realizing there's nothing personal or caring or special or stupid or secret about that godawful overused word. It was like the day the music died. "everything's been said and done/every beautiful thought's been already sung/ but here's another one" That's the sound of a genre dying. It doesn't even have the decency to not be a club song. Make up your ****ing mind, PR crew. Somewhere some song writer had the epiphany that there are no epiphanies and that he wrote cheap emotions for money. That's Yossarian realizing that tooth decay proves there's no god.

I hope now that I can be better understood. I was once vociferous in my defense of Poetry Art & Beauty, like you. Now I have lived to see myself become the villain: I wasn't thrilled by poetry, I was thrilled that I was told I could be thrilled by poetry. There were no roses or keys or doors. There was only syntax, grammar, and allusions. Meaning is now anathematic to me.

Poetry is a placebo drug in that it only makes you feel if you believe it makes you feel. If you won't move it won't move you. Look on ye mighty art lovers, and despair!

[Thanqol]

I hope now that I can be better understood. I was once vociferous in my defense of Poetry Art & Beauty, like you. Now I have lived to see myself become the villain: I wasn't thrilled by poetry, I was thrilled that I was told I could be thrilled by poetry. There were no roses or keys or doors. There was only syntax, grammar, and allusions. Meaning is now anathematic to me.

Poetry is a placebo drug in that it only makes you feel if you believe it makes you feel. If you won't move it won't move you. Look on ye mighty art lovers, and despair!

So what? Same goes for watching the cricket. You only get invested in it if you invest yourself. Same goes for any movie, any book, anything that appeals to a level more complicated than the needs of the physical body.

Yes, it's all in your head. Yes, I appreciate a well played game of Starcraft for entirely imaginary reasons and I despise celebrity gossip for just as invalid imaginary reasons. Yes, a painting is just a bunch of blobs of colour that trick the eye into seeing something. Yes, the world is all an illusion and language is meaningless and it's all just arrays of words and grammar that you chose to invest in.

But what should be is just as real and true as what is.

[Tvtyrant]

Poetry is a placebo drug in that it only makes you feel if you believe it makes you feel. If you won't move it won't move you. Look on ye mighty art lovers, and despair!

I wish I had my James collection on me, but I think you should try reading "The Will to Believe" by William James. He makes some quite potent arguments on this very topic, especially when he says (I have to paraphrase due to my lack of on hand books) that there is no evidence strong enough to force someone to believe something that they avidly do not, and that there is no bell in ones head that tells you when you have discovered a universal truth. The bell only tells you that you have stumbled upon a personal truth, and it is only as true as it is useful to you.

"If you won't move it won't move you" is equally applicable to any other subject (although the no real world rule keeps me from using examples).

Edit: Swordsaged :smallfrown:

[Dr. Simon]

It was perhaps an easy mistake to make, but I don't dislike poetry, nor am I ignorant of the value of the medium. Nor do I "have fingers in my ears", its just that the whole thing has been so cheapened for me by examination, and forced attempts by any tom **** and jane that I no longer care about poetry.

Well, that's an entirely different thing.

I'd say, don't worry about it. Step away from poetry and find something else. Go and live another 10 or so years of life, have another go then, if you really want to.

[Knaight]

Poetry is a placebo drug in that it only makes you feel if you believe it makes you feel. If you won't move it won't move you. Look on ye mighty art lovers, and despair!

Language is only meaningful because we decided it is. There's nothing innate to particular shapes or particular sounds that connects them to an idea. It's all symbols, connected to abstract ideas in which every person has subtly different models. And yet, it still works. That art constructed from it displays the same traits is hardly surprising, and that there isn't some sort of greater meaning imposed from outside can hardly be called a failing.

[Weimann]

Funny, because I've always found that analysing and discussing a poem adds to my appreciation of it rather than detracts. Different strokes, I guess.


I hope now that I can be better understood. I was once vociferous in my defense of Poetry Art & Beauty, like you. Now I have lived to see myself become the villain: I wasn't thrilled by poetry, I was thrilled that I was told I could be thrilled by poetry. There were no roses or keys or doors. There was only syntax, grammar, and allusions. Meaning is now anathematic to me.I see where you're standing. In a written medium, there will be syntax, grammar and allusions. It's part of the medium, and needs to exist for there to be any meaning. I'd say that these things stand between (the original Greek word metaxi literally means "between") the reader and the true Platonic Meaning of the poem, they are not there instead of said meaning. It is impossible for us to experience the poem without them, but it's up to us if we focus on them or on the message.

[Das Platyvark]

Try this one (http://fmg-www.cs.ucla.edu/ficus-members/reiher/elves.html) out. I figured we needed a little more humor here. I can't say it's moving in any way, but it's still one of my favorite poems, for the last line only.

[Feytalist]

I'm not a huge fan of traditional structured poetry either. It's too restrictive, I think. My girlfriend disagrees, and says that's the allure of poetry; to fit a meaningful and pleasing structure into the restrictions you set for yourself. I can see where she's coming from, at least.

What I do like, is some forms of prose poetry. The cadence and rhythm of the words in a proper prose poem is something I find extremely pleasing, and it allows a much greater freedom in choosing phrases and conveying ideas. Like the writings of Emerson, and Poe's as well, but most especially the works of Kahlil Gibran. A proper translation of Gibran's writings is incredible. The Prophet and the Garden of the Prophet in particular, but most of his other essays as well.


Although, as clichéd as it is, I must admit as well to a fondness of Ozymandias.

[DomaDoma]

"My Last Duchess" is the best narrative poem for general audiences I've read. If you're a Lord of the Rings fan, "The Last Ship" is even better. (Tolkien can be insufferable as a poet, I know, but trust me on this one.) Kipling's style is more doctrinaire wit than poetry per se, but he always manages to be interesting, and is usually quite insightful, too. All these are distinctly outside the pretty-flowers-and-navel-gazing sphere. (Also, the incoherent-prose-with-profanity-and-line-breaks sphere, which is my bete noire.)

[Fiery Diamond]

Poetry is a placebo drug in that it only makes you feel if you believe it makes you feel. If you won't move it won't move you. Look on ye mighty art lovers, and despair!

That's, um, true of everything art and non-physical pleasure-related. How does that make it any less valid?

[Pronounceable]

If you won't move it won't move you.
It's a good thing no sort of sensitive input can affect you whether you want it to or not (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Photosensitive_epilepsy).

[H. Zee]

Poetry is a placebo drug in that it only makes you feel if you believe it makes you feel. If you won't move it won't move you. Look on ye mighty art lovers, and despair!

When you look at a painting, you can choose to see some pigments layered upon a canvas in a pattern which may or may not mimic other structural patterns you have observed in real life. When you listen to music, you can choose to hear an arrangement of notes, repeated in varying different ways.

It's not an especially unique thing to decide to see. It's a rather trite and superficial approach with very little to recommend it.

"If you won't move, it won't move you." The thing is, I'm perfectly happy to be moved. You know what? I enjoy being moved by poetry far more than I enjoy feeling superior because I'm not moved by poetry. If I wanted to, I could approach every piece of poetry I see with rampant, self-satisfied cynicism, and laugh as it completely failed to move me. I don't, though. It's a bit pointless. Might as well not read poetry at all.

And I certainly wouldn't enthusiastically parade around my reflexive cynicism, laughing at the stupid "art-lovers" who are so beneath me for daring to approach a piece of media with an open mind.

[Viera Champion]

Like the Laughing Man who doesn't place any value in digital information because he can manipulate it so easy, I have never once been moved by poetry because of how easy it was in school to make it say any damn thing you want. To take the water out of rain. To measure the marigolds. To find some wood path. I hate Americana. No New England cottages, no light houses. No dusty sunsets over the great mother road. Is there good poetry? I mean, good poetry? Not "oh its so pretty" or "Oh I wrote this and my teacher said it was nice its about the time my mom died". I want meaning. I hate poetry. I know roses are nice and ****. nothing shakespeare ever wrote in 14 lines has mattered. Don't tell me about no swans. And no cosmic Jesus's neither.

So, is there any good poetry?

Well seeing how what you think is good poetry is based solely on your opinion, I cannot answer this question. Langston Hughes is amazing personally. My hero in the poetry world. Also, almost all poetry has meaning. Just because one does not take the time to see that meaning does not mean they should pass it off as bad. If you ever thought poetry was easy, you clearly weren't looking hard enough. There is nothing simple about poetry.

Sorry, poetry makes me pretentious.

[Knaight]

It's a good thing no sort of sensitive input can affect you whether you want it to or not (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Photosensitive_epilepsy).

That's an entirely different situation, as it is the meaning being discussed here. Not being moved emotionally by what is on TV does not mean that you can't be physically affected by the lights, much as it doesn't mean you can't be physically affected if someone throws the TV at you.

[Riverdance]

I still think Shel Silverstein is one of the best poets in existence.

YES! Shel Silverstein has some really clever stuff that I still find funny now that I'm older.

I have learned something from this thread: If I want lots of great examples of something the best way to get responses is to denounce it. :smallbiggrin:

[DomaDoma]

I only came to appreciate Shel Silverstein when I got above his target audience. When I was of the age to read Where the Sidewalk Ends, all I could think was that this was a terrifying madman with a bad sense of humor. And he totally is, too. (http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/never-bite-a-married-woman-on-the-thigh/) But he's also got a lot to say about the world that flew over my head back then. I dig.

[SaintRidley]

I only came to appreciate Shel Silverstein when I got above his target audience. When I was of the age to read Where the Sidewalk Ends, all I could think was that this was a terrifying madman with a bad sense of humor. And he totally is, too. (http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/never-bite-a-married-woman-on-the-thigh/) But he's also got a lot to say about the world that flew over my head back then. I dig.

And now you're old enough to fit the target age for some of his songs. The man can be downright lewd. Hilarious, though.

[Ravens_cry]

Growing up, I read a lot of Ogden Nash and Edward Lear. I also enjoyed A.A. Milne.
And you know what ? I still like those guys, though I disagree with Lear's near-insistence that a Limerick last line must end in the same word the first line ended with.

[LadyEowyn]

I don't like most present-day, free-verse poetry; my tastes lean more towards earlier centuries when things like rhyme and cadence were necessary elements.

I'm a fan of epic poetry. Try "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" by Coleridge

Most of Byron's stuff is good as well; I particularly like the cadence and imagery of "The Fall of Sennacherib". Thomas Hardy is also excellent, especially "Channel Firing" (which is darkly humorous, and comes close to predicting World War I) and "The Convergence of the Twain" (on the sinking of the Titanic).

[The Glyphstone]

I only came to appreciate Shel Silverstein when I got above his target audience. When I was of the age to read Where the Sidewalk Ends, all I could think was that this was a terrifying madman with a bad sense of humor. And he totally is, too. (http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/never-bite-a-married-woman-on-the-thigh/) But he's also got a lot to say about the world that flew over my head back then. I dig.

Silverstein wrote that? Wow, I don't remember that from when I was young...

[Riverdance]

I only came to appreciate Shel Silverstein when I got above his target audience. When I was of the age to read Where the Sidewalk Ends, all I could think was that this was a terrifying madman with a bad sense of humor. And he totally is, too. (http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/never-bite-a-married-woman-on-the-thigh/) But he's also got a lot to say about the world that flew over my head back then. I dig.

Oh my. That is even darker than the other more adult stuff of his I'd found. Still funny though. I'll be bookmarking that to send to literature geeks.

[Eldan]

Maybe I'm just a shallow person, but all those things linked here produce at best a "Oh, that's nice" or a "heh" or a "Well, that's pretty grim, isn't it?" from me. No big emotions.

I guess poetry just isn't my medium.

[Jaros]

Maybe I'm just a shallow person, but all those things linked here produce at best a "Oh, that's nice" or a "heh" or a "Well, that's pretty grim, isn't it?" from me. No big emotions.

I guess poetry just isn't my medium.

Did you read them or hear them performed? I usually find it far easier to engage with poetry when it's performed rather than read.

Not that there's anything wrong with not being into the stuff here, just wondering.

[Drascin]

Poetry is a placebo drug in that it only makes you feel if you believe it makes you feel. If you won't move it won't move you. Look on ye mighty art lovers, and despair!

Well, yes. Same for movies, stories, games, and whatever. Welcome to the universe, dude. I mean, are you seriously noticing just now?

A scary movie can only scare you if you allow it to. Same for sad movies.

A story can only have meaning if you allow it to. If you do not wish your stories to have any meaning,you will see them as nothing but successions of fictional events along a chain, a chain of individual stills like a powerpoint presentation.

Distancing yourself from things is easier than letting yourself be affected by them. Just putting yourself beyond things, refusing to move if you won't be forcibly moved, is in fact incredibly easy.

When artists work, they ask that you do not take the easy way and instead let yourself be affected. They can't come and push you. There is no art in the world that can move one who doesn't want to be moved.

[Raistlin1040]

For someone who doesn't like poetry, you're pretty dramatic.

I don't love poetry either, but I dabble in a bit of T.S. Elliot, Whitman, and Sylvia Plath.

[D+1]

Only printed poetry I own is a small book of Poe's poems I picked up at a sidewalk sale about 30 years ago. All the poetry I feel like I need is generally filled by song lyrics. That said, I think Dead Poets Society summed up a great deal of my feelings about poetry. Not that its purpose is to woo women but that ANALYSIS of poetry is the surest way to kill any impact it will actually have upon you and quench your desire to read any again... EVER.

Poetry is highly personal and even highly acclaimed poetry and poets are hardly universally meaningful and appealing. I think attempting to WRITE your own poetry is probably more important than being willing or able to appreciate someone elses poetry.

[WarriorPoet]

First, allow me to congratulate you. I believe you have taken the first step in maturing your appreciation of the literary arts.

This will not be a short post.

Second, allow me to introduce myself. I'm an electrical engineer unqualified to give professional opinions about literature and art, but I have had some amazing teachers and professors who have helped shape my perceptions.

Your disillusionment stems from the shallow nature of poetry, no? The words have no meaning, no purpose, they are simply recycled emotions repeated in fancy phrases. Compounded with over-analyzing said works, you seem to have lost all taste.

You mentioned the same thing has happened in Music with love songs, which I largely agree. I find it incredibly amusing how blind people are to the nature of what they listen to on the radio - do they actually pay attention to the words or just the beat? Without straying more down another road, suffice to say that I've always been amazed that people treat "The Middle" by Jimmy Eat World as a party song.

There is a lot of bad poetry in the world, recognizing such is allowing your tastes to mature. Poetry is powerful not because of clever phrases and emphasis on emotion but from symbolism and allusions. Good poetry - I'd even go as far to say good art - is that which has meaning beyond itself. The use of figurative language, metaphor, simile, allusion, enjambment, meter, rhyme, form, etc simply reinforces this; otherwise, it's as empty as you say. Poetry is more than just Catharsis.

I mention allusion because references to other works help build upon a poem's themes and motifs, creating a greater impact upon the reader, whether that impact is based on emotion (lyrical), demonstrating character (dramatic), or telling a story (narrative). T.S. Eliot's "The Hollow Men" is an astounding poem, good on it's own merits, but truly shines with full knowledge of his "Wasteland", Heart of Darkness by Conrad, and knowledge of British History (Guy Fawkes).

Appreciating good poetry often comes with appreciating many forms of literature and expanding upon your literary base. A knowledge and understanding of Shakespeare informs a reading Huxley's Brave New World because it helps you understand how the Savage acts so unreasonably and dramatically because Shakespeare's characters were often unreasonable and dramatic.

I've run out of time for now but please message me if you really want my full opinion/what I'm saying has begun to make a lot of sense. Also, I would second the recommendation of World War I poets Sassoon and Owen; keep in mind while reading these poems that these men were decorated war heroes. It also would not hurt to read Wordsworth's preface to his "Lyrical Ballads" where he makes a strong argument for the connected nature of prose and verse.

EDIT:
Got another second, looked back over what I had written. I should emphasize the degree to which poetry has evolved and will continue to do so throughout both time and space. You should look up the "Poet of Santiago" and someone sharing your frame of mind, the "Anti-Poet of Santiago." For more modern poetry that features real emotion and not "cheap emotions for money", look up Thomas's "Dying of the Light" and "Hero" by Carson from her "The Glass Essay." I think you might also appreciate Simon Armitage's "Kid."

[CurlyKitGirl]

This is my favorite poem. It's very good:

. . .
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
. . .

Percy Bysshe Shelley.
Not a bad poet, although he's not my favourite of the Romantics. Yes, as cliche as it is, I do have a fondness for Keat.
I love his Odes and Lamia, as well as several of his other longer narrative poems.



I also suggest you google for this dude named Billy Shakespeare. Sure, it takes him an entire flippin' paragraph to say something that would normally take a sentence, but he's still a decent writer.

Actually that's Shakespeare as a dramatist. His actual poems (and sonnets) are usually much more . . . no, that doesn't work.
There is a difference between Shakespeare the Dramatist and Shakespeare the Poet. I know this because there is an entire school of criticism about Shakespeare in his various Aspects.
And considering that by the late Elizabethan period there most definitely was a difference between spoken poetry as drama, spoken poetry to read to friends and poetry to read to oneself there is a distinction.

Shakespeare as a poet tends to be quieter in my experience. Granted I have not read most of his longer poems (yet), but his sonnets are much more introspective (to me) than much of his work as a playwright.



I suggest to you:

Philip Larkin, particularly This Be The Verse (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qahT62n8tcA) - warning, contains robust language!
The Mersey Sound poets (Roger McGough, Adrien Henri and Brian Patten).
Carol Ann Duffy
Simon Armitage
Seamus Heaney
Sylvia Plath
Various First World War Poets (Rupert Brooke, Sigfried Sasson, Wilfred Owen - I defy anyone to remain unmoved by Dulce Et Decorum Est (http://www.warpoetry.co.uk/owen1.html)

None of them write about sunsets and daffodils (well, rarely, and there's usually a dark twist)

DUFFY!
You are the bane of my entire (UK) college life! You single-handedly bored the entire English faculty and students at my college. Or rather, your material was excruciating.
I weaponise your poetry to squick people out! ESPECIALLY MRS. BEAST! LOOK AT WHAT YOU TURNED BELLE INTO!

Sorry. While her work is rather well done, it is . . . not to my tastes. Although I will admit Model Village is well-done dark humour, and Valentine is almost 'normal'. Carol Ann Duffy (long-running in-joke with people from my class) is such a man-hater I can't take her seriously.



"My Last Duchess" is the best narrative poem for general audiences I've read.

Actually I much prefer -
oh.
General audiences. Never mind me then. My tastes are somewhat . . . antique.
Literally.
But first:

@WarriorPoet: *standing ovation*
Exactly! While you're not 'qualified' on this subject, I don't anyone really can be qualified on as broad a subject as All Poetry Ever because it's such a vast genre.
Poetry is quite literally the oldest existing piece of writing in the world: The Epic of Gilgamesh.
I - where is that post I made a while back. Koorly On Poetry (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showpost.php?p=6881844&postcount=673). I wrote that three years ago, before I started university, so it's maybe not as good a defence as I would mount now, but the sentiment remains the same, only longer. And in several different languages/dialects of English and French.

To build on your opinion WarriorPoet, poetry exists for other people to draw meaning from.
There is the surface level stuff - love, death, daffodils and sunshine and whatever - but the more you read into it, or think on it (allow me to paraphrase the Venerable Bede's opinion on Caedmon's poetry: 'the reason it is so sublime is because he ruminates on it like a cow chewing the cud' and thus by rethinking and contemplating all he had heard (because he was an illiterate cowherd in the C7th) he was able to orally compose poetry for others to write down) the more and more interesting or nuanced a certain poem can become.

To take the above cited Ozymandias, on the surface it's a little episode from a man's travels. Read further into it it can be man's transience in the face of nature, the appropriation of culture (Ozymandias is a Greek transliteration of Egyptian hieroglyphics, and the statue itself is being viewed by a Briton at the height of the British Empire), leadership and loads of other things.
Poetry is an entirely personal thing, and how you read [poem/poetry in question] won't necessarily be how the majority sees it.
Personal example again - I find it depressing that the majority see Romeo and Juilet as a love story when I at best see it as a tragicomedy, and not an especially well-written one at that. (I won't go into detail because with Elizabethan and early Jacobean plays poetry and drama are heavily intertwined)
Similarly, I straight up hate most modern poets because my tastes do not lie in the general direction of modern and post-modern poetry. Excepting T. S. Eliot, who I find to be a medieval poet in disguise for many, many reasons.

Now if you want poetry that isn't Romantic or modern, go medieval.

Provisos:
While I do believe that reading it in the original language or dialect is generally for the best, there are many good modern translations (and some that even translate into English too!), and the very concept of translating poetry into another language is one that brings up lots of editorial/critical/poetic debate and theory that I won't go into.
Much.

Decided to spoilerise Recommendations for length.
The Iliad is a fantastic poem (and can be found in both poetic and prose versions), and considering it's highly unlikely anyone here is that well-versed in Ancient Greek I'd recommend the verse translation in the Penguin Books range.
Why? Well, it's one of the major underpinnings of Western Literature in English post-1066, and it is really good. Granted it's formulaic, but as far as scholars can tell, it was orally composed and oral tradition means a lot of formulae. There is genuine tension and emotional turmoil going on in Troy, and while Achilleus is basically being a bit emo about it all, he's emo and badass at the same time.
Downsides? For cultural reasons you'll probably be looking at the notes a fair bit, even though it's still understandable without them. It's quite long. It's an epic narrative poem, so if you're not looking for a story in your poetry it may not be for you.

Beowulf. Here's where things start to get tricky. It's also an epic heroic narrative poem. In Old English.
Meaning that you'll probably want a translation. There are lots of them. Seamus Heaney's one of best. He keeps fairly close to the original poem, while also retaining as much of the idiosyncrasies of Old English poetry.
If you don't want a translation, get a parallel text/facing page translation.
If you really want to experience Beowulf, get one of the above, grab an Old English dictionary and read it that way.
Why? It's a tightly composed (again, this is one composed in the oral style, and current scholarship agrees that it was likely composed by one person and written down by a scribe/the skald as he went) piece that has elements of heroic poetry (battles, the glory thereof), elegy (battles, the sadness thereof; death; exile and loneliness), politics and culture, the supernatural.
Oh.
And monsters and dragons.
Plus it ends on a depressing note.
Downsides: Put it this way: there are still parts of the poem (most of it if I was honest) that are hotly debated by critics, and entire perspectives on it are based off of reading one word another way.
So basically: new language, new culture, different ways of transmitting the writing means that you can read whole passages a different way by changing a line break and so on.
But it's really good.

Genesis B from The Junius Manuscript
Why?It's another Old English narrative poem. This time mixing up the elegy with Biblical poetry and epic poetry and heroic poetry.
Think Paradise Lost but about seven hundred years earlier, and without all the Classical references. And more sword fights. And shorter.
It's also an interpolation from Genesis A which is a less polished, but longer version of Genesis. In good poetry, but not as good as Genesis B.
Also Eve is a main character and has a voicce and an excellent rhetorical debate with the snake.
Downside? Same as the above, but add into it a different religious perspective and exegesis. And the fact that it is fairly likely that it was translated from an Old Saxon (approximately C8th German) source adds an extra layer of (awesome) possible confusion to it.

Old English Riddles
They're short, sweet, can be dirty, and usually sum up some 'typical' Old English genres in about six to twelve lines or so. Sadly they probably do lose a bit of their charm in translation.

Really, I recommend a lot of Old English poetry. So read it. And I think ninety-five percent of it exists in good translations too.

Chaucer
Because face it, you've got to recommend him.
The Canterbury Tales comes with a Big Addendum. The style is deliberately all over the place in order to imitate certain genres, parody them and so forth. Almost nobody likes The Parson's Tale while most people seem to enjoy the ruder ones like The Wife of Bath's Prologue (not her Tale which is a loathly lady tale) and the Shipwright's Tale (is that the one with the farting? I forget).
Translations are varied and mostly excellent. Notes are probably useful though.
READ HIS DREAM POETRY AND SMALLER TALES. They're always overlooked, but they are marvellous. Especially The Book of the Duchess and Legend of Good Women. The imagery is rich and so fantastic and engages in discussions of authors, authority, longevity, women (duh), romance, love (two entirely different things), Classical literature, recent politics (Duchess is mostly assumed to be written about Blanche of Lancaster, the wife of John of gaunt) and so many things!

John Gower
He wrote in Anglo-Norman, English and Latin, and sadly, one of his best works (Mirour de l'Omme) is in Anglo-Norman, and translations are fairly tricky to get a hold of. The Confessio Amantis is another fantastic poem that covers many genres, themes and ideas, but it's best if you get a scholarly version/read the one on the TEAMS website because the marginalia can be important to 'understanding'/interpreting the text and some editions (read: most translations) don't include it. Or the Latin epigraphs.
Warning: incest is talked about a lot.
Downsides? It comes in eight books, each of which deals with a main theme about love, and the framing device is that of a lover (ironically, one who is ageing) confessing to a priest of Love. As expected from Gower and pretty much all the poetry I'm recommending, there are many spiritual/religious/cultural etc. etc. things that the casual reader won't understand.
HOWEVER, you don't necessarily need to understand all of it (or any of it - although I do suggest reading the notes) to appreciate or enjoy it.
Especially incest. But that's just me.

The entire genre of dream poetry
Excellent imagery and writing in general. It's basically the exploration of one person's psyche through many, many ideas.
Downsides? The usual issues with cultural/spiritual/religious etc. etc.

The Gawain-poet
Gawain and the Green Knight is amazing, you want Tolkein's translation, and is deservedly, one of the best Gawain-stories/romance (genre, not about love) poems in Arthurian literature poetic and prose.
Pearl is another dream poem addressing (and eventually 'resolving') the dreamer's grief over the loss of his young daughter.
The other two aren't especially good for me, because I just don't like them too much, but they're still well-constructed.
Downsides? It's in a Northern dialect of Middle English. Fortunately there are some good translations.

The Faerie Queene
THis is actually in (mostly) understandable English! As in, it was written post-1550!
It's a romance (genre, not necesarily about love) epic poem all about chivalry, knights, monsters and so on. That may or may not subvert typical modes, tropes and the like expected in a romance narrative.
(Ah! Arthurian literature is generally a romance. Think of it as the proto-fantasy genre)
Also Britomart is hands down the best character in the poem, and one of the best characters in pre-C18th literature. Or ever. Whichever.
It also involves violence, battles, cross-dressing, mistaken genders and identity, magic, sex, rape, incest, lesbianism and all sorts of fun things!
Downsides? It's quite long. Also, it's quite obviously propaganda extolling the greatness of Elizabeth I (aka: Gloriana (the name of the Faerie Queen)) and Protestantism in general (although not entirely noticeable. Aside from that one person and encounter). But it's really good propaganda in that you can ignore the obvious messages and just enjoy the story.
Oh.
It's also technically incomplete due to author existence failure. See, there are six books, but there should have been twenty-four. Not that it matters too much as each book is pretty much self-contained. Although Britomart gets three books.
Oh, and it's really allegorical, so again cultural/religious etc. things may be a little tricky. Luckily each book is named outright as being based on the virtue of so it's fairly self-explanatory. And even if it isn't it's still really good.

Paradise Lost
Pretty much created the sympathetic Satan concept.
Is awesome.
Is very complicated though and is very heavy on the classical/exegetical interpretations. The verse itself is also complex in form and expression so it can get quite easy to get mixed up or lost.
Either way the imagery is impressive in scope and imagination.
Seriously: Jesus in a chariot and spear being badass and kicking out one-third of the population of Heaven on his own. One image that will always stick in my mind for its sheer skill and brilliance.

[B]Shakespeare
Because I'm obligated to. I do recommend The Phoenix and the Turtle though.

The Duchess of Malfi
Technically it's a play, but it's in that era where poetry and play wasn't very well defined so it counts.
Also it's one of my favourite Early Modern English plays ever.
It's hilarious. It satirises Senecan tragedy and tragedy in general and is ridiculous and amazing!
Involves: incest (specifically twincest), adultery, poisoning, Catholicism-bashing, bashing of the Italian-states, a strong female character, sarcasm, werewolves (no, really. Kind of), love potions (kind of), necrophilia (it's complicated), whores (not-so complicated), corpses, dancing lunatics, dismembered body parts, gore, murder, suicide, infanticide, suicide, melodrama, ridiculousness, misogyny, positive portrayals of female rulers and more!
Also pistols in codpieces.
Get the Revels Student Edition.
Madcap genius.
Downsides? It's funnier if you understand what is being satirised (i.e. the werewolves), but it's damn funny even without it.

It's like Titus Andronicus, but up to eleven. And funnier. And better.

EDIT: That was long. Time to edit in spoilers!

[VanBuren]

This is my favorite poem. It's very good:

I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desart. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Here's a "funny" poem I wrote when I was eight (and, despite my best efforts, have memorized)

My name's Jebediah Jed and I gotta go pee but my bucket's in the shed, so I go on the roof and aim for my mean neighbor's head.

I also suggest you google for this dude named Billy Shakespeare. Sure, it takes him an entire flippin' paragraph to say something that would normally take a sentence, but he's still a decent writer.

Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou know'st thy estimate:
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing;
My bonds in thee are all determinate.
For how do I hold thee but by thy granting?
And for that riches where is my deserving?
The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
And so my patent back again is swerving.
Thyself thou gavest, thy own worth then not knowing,
Or me, to whom thou gavest it, else mistaking;
So thy great gift, upon misprision growing,
Comes home again, on better judgment making.
Thus have I had thee, as a dream doth flatter,
In sleep a king, but waking no such matter.

[1dominator]

Don't forget Paradise Lost!

[Kindablue]

Actually that's Shakespeare as a dramatist. His actual poems (and sonnets) are usually much more . . . no, that doesn't work.
There is a difference between Shakespeare the Dramatist and Shakespeare the Poet. I know this because there is an entire school of criticism about Shakespeare in his various Aspects.
And considering that by the late Elizabethan period there most definitely was a difference between spoken poetry as drama, spoken poetry to read to friends and poetry to read to oneself there is a distinction.

Yes, presentation is important. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6YfJ66YmO8k&feature=related)

[SaintRidley]

To add to Koorly's recommendation of Paradise Lost, not only is Jesus driving a chariot at Satan and company, but he's doing it while throwing thunderbolts and lightning (very very frightening).

I also recommend Chaucer's dream poetry, but I have to give a particular nod to the House of Fame.

Also, I'm not so against postmodern and modernist poets, but that's largely because I get most of my exposure there through the Spanish surrealists. Postmodernist and surrealist poetry can be quite good when you're in the right frame for it, and it's not like they're the most recent literary idea out there-- a lot of Chaucer could be seen as postmodern in style, and a lot of the dream poems and narratives of that era get downright trippy at points. I'm looking at you, Margery Kempe.

[The Succubus]

I'm reading Alice Through the Looking Glass at the moment and stumbled on a quite wonderful and ridiculous piece of poetry - "Jabberwocky":

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

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

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

Yes folks, that D&D Vorpal sword your character is waving around? This is where it came from.

[Feytalist]

You only just discovered it? I weep for your childhood :smalltongue:

At the very least, you should recognise some of it from the mutterings of the Hatter in the newest Alice in Wonderland.

Quite a lot of Through the Looking Glass ends up in modern Alice in Wonderland works.

[The Succubus]

My memory is a little fuzzy but I vaguely recall the Cheshire Cat in the Disney version actually *singing* Jabberwocky.

Sure, I saw the movie version as a kid but to actually read it and see all the perverse leaps of logic Lewis Carroll takes with conversations between Alice and the denizens of Wonderland....it's like giving my brain a bubble bath. :smallbiggrin:

On a slightly grimmer note, I like Dante's Divine Comedy series but I can't help but feel it really misses something in the translation (we never did get to see that 13th century copy in Oxford Koorly :smallfrown:).

[Jaros]

Jabberwocky is a particularly useful one for this kind of discussion, as I've heard several people criticise that anyone could just make up some ridiculous words like that. And of course they're technically right. The skill lies in making the words sound so good, flow so well and convey such clear images despite them being gibberish. :)

[The Succubus]

The thing is, not all the words are gibberish. Much later in the book, Alice catches up with Humpty Dumpty and he offers explanations for some of them. Interestingly enough, a few have actually been adopted as true English words in the dictionary.

[Feytalist]

For me, it's the rhythm of the words that are important, and Jabberwock is a great example of that. Even if Carrol does follow Shakespeare's "make words up" method of writing. :smalltongue:
Edit: Thing is, they were nonsense words at the time. Much the same as with Shakespeare, actually.

I also enjoy the Divine Comedy. I was fortunate that I found a very thorough translation, and I have a double-language version. And of course my Italian girlfriend helps too. :smalltongue: She lifts out all the Italian metaphors and context that I would otherwise have missed.

[Radar]

I didn't have much contact with poetry outside of school (which somehow didn't manage to crush my appretiation of literature in it's entirety) and quite a few people have made very good points with detailed explanation, but it's a free forum, so I still get to state my opinion. :smalltongue:

In my experiance, poetry is the most self-aware literary form in the sense, that it fully anknowledges, that language is not absolute and can't convey everything we would want to. Some poets experimented with words, other with bizzare combinations therof, others fully adhered to grammar and still anything they put in or readers get out of their work is found between the lines.

Sometimes a poem is just a trigger for thing we already have in ourselves. If you say to someone, that you are sad, you can't show, what you really feel - they can only relate to sadness they once felt. Trying to trigger emotions in other people through words is difficult and any one method won't work the same on everybody.

Even mathematics or physics with all the theorems and proofs is something very personal. Understanding such abstract structures is a unique experiance and everyone builds a different picture in their mind, when thinking about Newtonian laws of motion or geometrical optics. We have equations and big computers to crunch them, but a lot of progress is made by intuition drawn from those personal views on particular subjects.

Understanding of anything cannot be thought or gained from a reading material - it is always attained by personal effort and it's always one of a kind.

Someone said, that the first poet to compare a women to a rose was a genius and all, who used this metaphore after him, were hacks. In a way he was wrong - anyone can use the same phrase to mean something new on a personal level.

[Das Platyvark]

Also, a Margaret Atwood poem I discovered recently, and fell in love with:

you fit into me
like a hook into an eye

a fish hook
an open eye

[Inglenook]

I'm not a huge poetry aficionado or anything, but I find that I enjoy rhyming and free-form poetry fairly equally. The only genre I don't really like is the folksy Americana stuff because it all seems to be about birds and pinecones , but even it has the occasional turn of phrase I can appreciate.

I like the cadence of William Blake, and e.e. cummings is, of course, fantastic.

[Sith_Happens]

I still think Shel Silverstein is one of the best poets in existence.

Here, have another +1 what I'm sure is your already extensive collection.:smallwink:

Also, I'm pretty sure this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J7E-aoXLZGY) is technically prose, but dang if it doesn't make my ears drift off into a wonderful, happy place.:smallbiggrin:

[Man on Fire]

Like the Laughing Man who doesn't place any value in digital information because he can manipulate it so easy, I have never once been moved by poetry because of how easy it was in school to make it say any damn thing you want. To take the water out of rain. To measure the marigolds. To find some wood path.

By that logic everything is worthless because you can subject it to as many interpretations as you can. For example, I can easily show you that last book from Chronolicles of Narnia, one often accused of being preachy pro-christian propaganda, is really one big tract against organized religion - you just need to think that monkey is a pope and everything falls in place. Reder filtrs every information he gets through his personal experiences and beliefs, nothing we get is really objective because of it, even cold scientific fact are painted by our opinion on them, which is itself shaped by our personal luggage.

EDIT: Just to illustrate my point - there exist a book that mocks several popural philosophies and viewpoints by interpretating Winnie the Pooh through the eyes of their extreme incarnations.

[Goosefeather]

Read some William McGonagall. He'll give you a new appreciation for the medium.

Mainly because, after reading one of his poems, all other poetry suddenly seems amazing in comparison!

[Lord Raziere]

Poetry is a placebo drug in that it only makes you feel if you believe it makes you feel. If you won't move it won't move you. Look on ye mighty art lovers, and despair!

What irony, this inspires me, to write a poem about thee.

Immovable

Here I stand
Immovable.
The wind breaks against me.
The fire does not burn me.
The waves cannot wash me away.
Even the earth itself shaking, cannot topple me.

Here I stand
Immovable.
Disaster strikes.
Immovable.
Cataclysm rages.
Immovable.
Battle wages.
Immovable.

Here I stand
Immovable.
Laughter cannot phase me.
Anger cannot raise me.
Sadness cannot drag me.
Happiness cannot break me.

Here I stand
Immovable.
My friends shout at me.
My family urges me.
The trees,
the mountains
and the gods themselves
come to push at me.
Yet I still stand
Immovable.

And now finally soon,
do I look around,
Immovable.
That I am alone.
The world could not move me
So it moved past me.
Abandoning me forever in a blank waste.
A place fitting for one so chaste.
with Nothing to move me,
not even a phone.
for like the rest of my body and soul,
my heart has turned to stone.

[Knaight]

By that logic everything is worthless because you can subject it to as many interpretations as you can. For example, I can easily show you that last book from Chronolicles of Narnia, one often accused of being preachy pro-christian propaganda, is really one big tract against organized religion - you just need to think that monkey is a pope and everything falls in place.
I would love to see this. PM me.

[ValhallaStreet]

I came across this last night, and thought of this thread. It doesn't really do much for me, but it seemed appropriate.

Poetry by Marianne Moore.


I, too, dislike it: there are things that are important beyond all
this fiddle.
Reading it, however, with a perfect contempt for it, one
discovers in
it after all, a place for the genuine.
Hands that can grasp, eyes
that can dilate, hair that can rise
if it must, these things are important not because a

high-sounding interpretation can be put upon them but because
they are
useful. When they become so derivative as to become
unintelligible,
the same thing may be said for all of us, that we
do not admire what
we cannot understand: the bat
holding on upside down or in quest of something to

eat, elephants pushing, a wild horse taking a roll, a tireless wolf
under
a tree, the immovable critic twitching his skin like a horse that
feels a
flea, the base-
ball fan, the statistician--
nor is it valid
to discriminate against 'business documents and

school-books'; all these phenomena are important. One must
make a distinction
however: when dragged into prominence by half poets, the
result is not poetry,
nor till the poets among us can be
'literalists of
the imagination'--above
insolence and triviality and can present

for inspection, 'imaginary gardens with real toads in them', shall
we have
it. In the meantime, if you demand on the one hand,
the raw material of poetry in
all its rawness and
that which is on the other hand
genuine, you are interested in poetry.

[CurlyKitGirl]

Yes, presentation is important. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6YfJ66YmO8k&feature=related)

Been meaning to come back here for a while. Needed to thank you for bringing the existence of these songs to my attention as I was able to reference them in my university exam on Shakespeare.
Plus they're just really nice; my favourite is the Midsummer one.


To add to Koorly's recommendation of Paradise Lost, not only is Jesus driving a chariot at Satan and company, but he's doing it while throwing thunderbolts and lightning (very very frightening).

Jesus: the original badass.


I also recommend Chaucer's dream poetry, but I have to give a particular nod to the House of Fame.

Love that poem too! (And guess what. I wrote on it in my Chaucer exam)
Fantastic discussion on the mutability of fame, authority, and mankind.
And the "rocche of ice" carved with names, of which "oon or two lettres was | Waxeth off every name". Bleak man. Bleak.


Also, I'm not so against postmodern and modernist poets, but that's largely because I get most of my exposure there through the Spanish surrealists. Postmodernist and surrealist poetry can be quite good when you're in the right frame for it, and it's not like they're the most recent literary idea out there-- a lot of Chaucer could be seen as postmodern in style, and a lot of the dream poems and narratives of that era get downright trippy at points. I'm looking at you, Margery Kempe.

While I acknowledge that the medieval poets did a lot of things that are considered 'post-modern' (questioning authority, glossing, screwing around with genre and form and so on) their attitude just gets on my nerves.



On a slightly grimmer note, I like Dante's Divine Comedy series but I can't help but feel it really misses something in the translation (we never did get to see that 13th century copy in Oxford Koorly :smallfrown:).

It was really good.



I also enjoy the Divine Comedy. I was fortunate that I found a very thorough translation, and I have a double-language version. And of course my Italian girlfriend helps too. :smalltongue: She lifts out all the Italian metaphors and context that I would otherwise have missed.

I've been looking for a good facing page translation of the Comedy for years, what's the details of this one?


Read some William McGonagall. He'll give you a new appreciation for the medium.

Mainly because, after reading one of his poems, all other poetry suddenly seems amazing in comparison!

I know.
Pure genius.
And he influenced the war-poetry of the Nac Mac Feegle. This can only be good.

[Feytalist]

I've been looking for a good facing page translation of the Comedy for years, what's the details of this one?

"Modern Library Classics" collection, translation by Anthony Esolen. Facing-page translation with footnotes for the most important points, and chapter-by-chapter endnotes for the rest. It's pretty great.

[Lothston]

First of all, poetry is best enjoyed in its original language. Translations lose too much.

Second, it sounds as if the OP doesn't like romantic short verse. Personally, I don't much like romantic short verse either, but happily there's plenty of other fish in the sea.

My suggestions to the OP:

1. Other formats

Instead of short verse, try long verse and poetic plays.

2. Other styles

Instead of weepy romanticism, try decadence, historical, or folk poetry.

3. Other media

a) Cinema: with its invention poetry has come to the big screen. Give it a try!

b) Music: Most of modern music has lyrics, which are basically poems.

Concrete examples:

English:

E.A.Poe (the man's a genius of the macabre, his prose is almost poetry itself);
Ambrose Bierce (also noted for poetry-like prose, his poems are fantastic as well);
The Bard a.k.a. Bill Shakespeare (classics such as Macbeth, Hamlet, Lear, and Richard III I have always found to be the best, but there are also less celebrated items such as Titus Andronicus which are gruesome, visceral and engaging);
Lord Byron;
Beowulf (awesome epic Saxon poem in old English).

French:

The Cursed Poets (Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Gauthier). They have amazing imagery, passion, and filigree mastery of language.

Russian:

You probably don't know Russian anyway, and if you do, then you know the poetry. Translations don't do it justice by a long shot. But just in case, the "golden classics" like Pushkin and Lermontov are great, but the "silver age" decadents of 1900-1920 are far more sophisticated.

Greek:

Homer's "The Iliad" is amazing. Also, it has a lot of good translations.

Movies:

Macbeth by Roman Polansky (best Shakespeare movie ever, in my opinion);
Hamlet by Kenneth Branagh (the most complete translation to film I've seen), or try the Mel Gibson version if you want more action and emotion with less talking and exposition;
Titus (1988) with Anthony Hopkins;
Richard III (1995) with Ian McKellen (the reimagining of the play as a WWI slash "1984" powerstruggle was inspiring and McKellen was fantastic);
To have some fun, try Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead by Tom Stoppard: it has the text of Hamlet surrounded by incredibly witty dialogue of the two clueless protagonists.

Music

Tom Waits
Nick Cave

These guys rule, and are very poetic.

[Scowling Dragon]

Im in a similar boat. Poetry is like music without music.

Ive only been ever moved by poetry when its said by some great reader (With a great voice) and alongside some classical music.

So yeah. Poetry is like a drier, duller music for me.

[Aedilred]

I'm not a big poetry fan in general, but there's the odd poem I see and am very taken with. I think part of my ambivalence towards it stems from the grinding tedium of studying it in school, as with so many people.

Recently, I've become rather fond of this one, for instance:
A Pict Song - Rudyard Kipling

Rome never looks where she treads,
Always her heavy hooves fall
On our stomachs, our hearts or our heads;
And Rome never heeds when we bawl.
Her sentries pass on – that is all,
And we gather behind them in hordes,
And plot to reconquer the Wall,
With only our tongues for our swords.

We are the Little Folk – we!
Too little to love or to hate.
Leave us alone and you'll see
How we can drag down the great!
We are the worm in the wood!
We are the rot in the root!
We are the germ in the blood!
We are the thorn in the foot!

Mistletoe killing an oak –
Rats gnawing cables in two –
Moths making holes in a cloak –
How they must love what they do!
Yes – and we Little Folk too,
We are as busy as they –
Working our works out of view –
Watch, and you'll see it some day!

No indeed! We are not strong,
But we know Peoples that are.
Yes, and we'll guide them along,
To smash and destroy you in War!
We shall be slaves just the same?
Yes, we have always been slaves,
But you – you will die of the shame,
And then we shall dance on your graves!

We are the Little Folk – we!
Too little to love or to hate.
Leave us alone and you'll see
How we can drag down the great!
We are the worm in the wood!
We are the rot in the root!
We are the germ in the blood!
We are the thorn in the foot!

[WoodStock_PV]

I'm not a fan of english language poetry so I'll not be able to help in this department. I do like poetry in portuguese and spanish. Maybe you should try learning other idioms, since it's already been established that no translation will surpass the original poem.

I'll share two of my favorite poems, the first in spanish and the second in portuguese:

http://www.poesi.as/og32000.htm

http://pensador.uol.com.br/frase/MjAyODM0/

[Aidan305]

Slightly surprised that there's been no mention of Emily Dickenson thus far. Ever since I first discovered her I've had a fondness for her use of rhythm.



I'm not a fan of english language poetry so I'll not be able to help in this department. I do like poetry in portuguese and spanish. Maybe you should try learning other idioms, since it's already been established that no translation will surpass the original poem.

I would particularly recommend some of the 17th Century spanish erotic poetry. It's generally fairly hilarious.

[Talya]

Yeats.

The Second Coming.

So good.

By Yeats, I prefer The Two Trees.

And Loreena McKennitt was gracious enough to set it to some beautiful music for us.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=chU3ZZ67-VI

[Kindablue]

This is my favorite Yeats poem:


WHEN you are old and gray and full of sleep
..And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
..And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
..And loved your beauty with love false or true;
..But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
..Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
..And paced upon the mountains overhead,
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.


Slightly surprised that there's been no mention of Emily Dickenson thus far. Ever since I first discovered her I've had a fondness for her use of rhythm.

I posted Hope is the thing with feathers on page one, actually. This is probably my favorite by her, though:


Glee ! the great storm in over !
Four have recovered the land ;
Forty gone down together
Into the boiling sand.

Ring, for the scant salvation !
Toll, for the bonnie souls, —
Neighbor and friend and bridegroom,
Spinning upon the shoals !

How they will tell the shipwreck
When winter shakes the door,
Till the children ask, "But the forty ?
Did they come back no more ?"

Then a silence suffuses the story,
And a softness the teller's eye ;
And the children no further question,
And only the waves reply.


ETA

Been meaning to come back here for a while. Needed to thank you for bringing the existence of these songs to my attention as I was able to reference them in my university exam on Shakespeare.
Plus they're just really nice; my favourite is the Midsummer one.
Cool! Hope it went well. And I think "nice" is a really succinct way to describe Vaughan Williams's music. Fantastic way to insult it too.

[WoodStock_PV]

Slightly surprised that there's been no mention of Emily Dickenson thus far. Ever since I first discovered her I've had a fondness for her use of rhythm.



I would particularly recommend some of the 17th Century spanish erotic poetry. It's generally fairly hilarious.

Ok. I'm curious now. Could you share some of these poems? I'm aware that the people of the Iberian Peninsula was very fond of erotic and satirical works but they are quite hard to find depending on the author.

[GolemsVoice]

"O where are you going?" said reader to rider,
"That valley is fatal when furnaces burn,
Yonder's the midden whose odours will madden,
That gap is the grave where the tall return."

"O do you imagine," said fearer to farer,
"That dusk will delay on your path to the pass,
Your diligent looking discover the lacking
Your footsteps feel from granite to grass?"

"O what was that bird," said horror to hearer,
"Did you see that shape in the twisted trees?
Behind you swiftly the figure comes softly,
The spot on your skin is a shocking disease."

"Out of this house," said rider to reader,
"Yours never will," said farer to fearer,
"They're looking for you," said hearer to horror,
As he left them there, as he left them there.

W.H. Auden

[Man on Fire]

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

William Blake, The Tyger