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Do you enjoy reading poetry?

Randy

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Do you enjoy reading poetry?

Do you have a favorite poem?

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To be honest, in my spare time, no I don't really seek out poetry and read it. However I have come across a few cool ones in my day.

I always liked this one:

Jabberwocky​

BY LEWIS CARROLL
’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.
 
I like some poetry, but admittedly some of it is beyond me. Hardy, for instance, I like to read a bit of Hardy now and then:


Drummer Hodge by Thomas Hardy
I
They throw in Drummer Hodge, to rest
Uncoffined—just as found:
His landmark is a kopje-crest
That breaks the veldt around;
And foreign constellations west
Each night above his mound.


II
Young Hodge the Drummer never knew—
Fresh from his Wessex home—
The meaning of the broad Karoo,
The Bush, the dusty loam,
And why uprose to nightly view
Strange stars amid the gloam.


III
Yet portion of that unknown plain
Will Hodge for ever be;
His homely Northern breast and brain
Grow up a Southern tree,
And strange-eyed constellations reign
His stars eternally.
 
I like some poetry, but admittedly some of it is beyond me. Hardy, for instance, I like to read a bit of Hardy now and then:


Drummer Hodge by Thomas Hardy
I
They throw in Drummer Hodge, to rest
Uncoffined—just as found:
His landmark is a kopje-crest
That breaks the veldt around;
And foreign constellations west
Each night above his mound.


II
Young Hodge the Drummer never knew—
Fresh from his Wessex home—
The meaning of the broad Karoo,
The Bush, the dusty loam,
And why uprose to nightly view
Strange stars amid the gloam.


III
Yet portion of that unknown plain
Will Hodge for ever be;
His homely Northern breast and brain
Grow up a Southern tree,
And strange-eyed constellations reign
His stars eternally.
Never seen that one but I liked it. :)
 
I love poetry, especially when they have a lot of pretty words. I like to write write poetry but don't even expect it to be good or anything like that :P
 
…I do indeed like to read some poetry…and dabbling in writing a little also….

Sirens

Although you search you’ll never see
The darkness deep inside of me
Kept hidden well, within its shell,
No tongue upon this earth will tell

Dark bleeding oceans flowed through you
With gurgling hues from red to blue
The tide will take each soul in turn
And on their ebb is no return

On lips which stroke your salty breath
Red painted kiss with shades of death
Deplete your force within their tides
And bed you down with ghostly brides

As glistening sirens call your name
Go lay with them and take your shame
Your soul is lost upon these shores
Concealed in lies within vain whores

Their lashing palms will flog your pain
Each drop of blood a crimson stain
On ravaged skin and ruptured bones
Contemptuous of your pleading groans

Renounce your lies with pungent breath
Then sink you down into their depths
All vanished in their cruel embrace
As fatal lips caress your face

Upon the spume ride men o war
Their battle cries a deafening roar
As sirens bind you in your grave
whipped, thrashing waves your soul enslaved
 
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