We Read To Know We Are Not Alone…

March 14, 2007

Reading, and especially for our purposes reading poetry, is an amazing thing.  We bring ourselves — our likes, dislikes, personality and experiences — to every poem we read, and the “us” we take away from the poem is always a little different and changed forever.  In a way, when we read, we become the poem, and the poem becomes us.  Sometimes we read a poem that really strikes a chord with us; it has a special meaning and touches us in some way.

YOUR TASK: Read poetry!  Read as much as you can and look for a poem that has a special meaning for you.  The meaning can be based on a connection to the events of the poem, the sound(s) of the poem, the “feeling” of the poem, and so on.  You will use your selection to create your own “Favorite Poem Project” (see link in sidebar).  You can find many poems to enjoy at the Academy of American Poets link (also located in the sidebar). 

Post the titles (and poet’s name) of poems you have found to be extra special and wonderful to this entry so that others can have a chance to share in what you’ve found.  Enjoy!

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  1. One of my favorite poems is Wild West by Robert Boylan. This one was very funny and had great descriptions. This was in the book Some hay stacks don’t even have a needle. My other favorite is Hay for the Horses by Gary Snyder. This was in the same book and a real pleasure to read.

  2. Hey, I hope you don’t mind but I linked to you at my Uni’s wiki. I thought that you have heaps of good content and I really enjoy your blog! http://pkic.wikispaces.com/ is the link to the site.

  3. I read this really funny poem called the Tutti Fruity Love song and it is by Mary Grace Dembeck
    here it is
    Tutti Fruitti Lovesong

    You are my darling CUMQUAT.

    Oh, you’re my PEACHy pie,
    I think you are the BERRIES,
    The APPLE of my eye

    Don’t make me MELON-choly,
    Please be my HONEY DEW,
    ‘Cause oh, my sweet PAPAYA,
    I’m BANANAS over you!

    I would be oh, so GRAPEful
    If you’d just say you care,
    For it takes two to MANGO,
    And we’re a PEACHy PEAR.

    Oh, ORANGE you a little
    COCONUTS for me too?
    Please say you’ll be mon CHERRY.
    I’m so GUAVA over you.

    – Mary Grace Dembeck

    (giggle giggle hehehehe)

  4. One of my all time favorite poems is: The Road Not Taken, By Robert Frost. He is a spectacular poet, and I love his work. Here it is:

    The Road Not Taken

    Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
    And sorry I could not travel both
    And be one traveler, long I stood
    And looked down one as far as I could
    To where it bent in the undergrowth.

    Then took the other, as just as fair,
    And having perhaps the better claim,
    Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
    Though as for that the passing there
    Had worn them really about the same.

    And both that morning equally lay
    In leaves no step had trodden black.
    Oh, I kept the first for another day!
    Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
    I doubted if I should ever come back.

    I shall be telling this with a sigh
    Somewhere ages and ages hence:
    Two roads diverged in a wood, and I–
    I took the one less traveled by,
    And that has made all the difference.

  5. Lol Here is another Robert Frost Poem. I like this one too, because not only is this the month that I was born is, but it also reminds me of my favorite time of year-Fall, because in fall, its almost like the world is secretly hiding another side to it, and it comes out to show brilliant colors of red, orange, and yellow, but never for too long.


    O hushed October morning mild,
    Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
    Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,
    Should waste them all.
    The crows above the forest call;
    Tomorrow they may form and go.
    O hushed October morning mild,
    Begin the hours of this day slow.
    Make the day seem to us less brief.
    Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
    Beguile us in the way you know.
    Release one leaf at break of day;
    At noon release another leaf;
    one from our trees, one far away.
    Retard the sun with gentle mist;
    Enchant the land with amethyst.
    Slow, slow!
    For the grapes’ sake, if the were all,
    Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
    Whose clustered fruit must else be lost–
    For the grapes’ sake along the all.

  6. As a big Robert Frost fan, I must admit that I also think those are great poems. I like the way you explain your reasons for loving these poems, Jilliebear. The idea of fall being special because it almost seems like “the world is secretly hiding another side” is a wonderful image. Thanks.

  7. You know I try to be all that I can.
    But there is a part of me, I still don’t understand.
    Why do I only see, what I don’t have.
    When my reality is not that bad, your faith has shown me that.
    When my world goes crazy, you wont let go.
    When the ground gets shaky, you give me hope.
    When I try to push you away, you never moved.
    Now I passed that doubt, and it helped me see. There’s a faith and love and a power in me.
    You believe that there ain’t nothing I cant do.
    My hero is you.

  8. A Friend Like You

    There’s lots of things
    With which I’m blessed,
    Tho’ my life’s been both Sunny and Blue,
    But of all my blessings,
    This one’s the best:
    To have a friend like you.

    In times of trouble
    Friends will say,
    “Just ask… I’ll help you through it.”
    But you don’t wait for me to ask,
    You just get up
    And you do it!

    And I can think
    Of nothing in life
    That I could more wisely do,
    Than know a friend,
    And be a friend,
    And love a friend… like you.
    -Author Unknown

  9. I got 1 poem that has a little meaning to me.

    Contact lenses
    Like I need a poke in the eye

    This is the best I can do. I don’t know how to change the font size.

  10. Mr. Nobody

    I know a funny little man,
    As quiet as a mouse,
    Who does the mischief that is done
    In everybody’s house!
    There’s no one ever sees his face,
    And yet we all agree
    That every plate we break was cracked
    By Mr. Nobody.

    ‘Tis he who always tears our books,
    Who leaves the door ajar,
    He pulls the buttons from our shirts,
    And scatters pins afar;
    That squeaking door will always squeak,
    For, prithee, don’t you see,
    We leave the oiling to be done
    By Mr. Nobody.

    He puts damp wood upon the fire,
    That kettles cannot boil;
    His are the feet that bring in mud,
    And all the carpets soiled.
    The papers always are mislaid,
    Who had them last but he?
    There’s no one tosses them about
    But Mr. Nobody.

    The finger marks upon the door
    By none of us are made;
    We never leave the blinds unclosed,
    To let the curtains fade.
    The ink we never spill; the boots
    that lying round you see
    Are not our boots — they all belong
    To Mr. Nobody.


  11. One of my favorite poems is not one I am going to use for the favorite poem project, but it’s one I find very funny. It has a very good rhyming patern and it is well writen. Here it is:

    Homework! Oh homework!
    I hate you! You stink!
    I wish I could wash you
    away in the sink,
    if only a bomb
    would explode you to bits.
    Homework! Oh homework!
    You’re giving me fits.

    I’d rather take baths
    with a man-eating shark,
    or wrestle a lion
    alone in the dark,
    eat spinach and liver,
    pet ten porcupines,
    than tackle the homework
    my teacher assigns.

    Homework! Oh homework!
    You’re last on my list,
    I simply can’t see
    why you even exist,
    if you just disappeared
    it would tikle me pink.
    Homework! Oh homework!
    I hate you! You stink!

    -Jack Prelutsky

    (This is a very goog idea, Mr. de haan! I think you should consider it some time)

  12. This poem is the actual one I am goin to do for the favorite poem project:

    I thought once how Theocritus had sung
    Of the sweet years, the dear and wished for years,
    Who each one in a gracious hand appears
    To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:
    And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,
    I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,
    The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,
    Those of my own life, who by turns had flung
    A shadow across me. Straightway I was ‘ware,
    So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move
    Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair;
    And a voice said in mastery, while I strove,
    “Guess now who holds thee ?” – “Death,” I said. But, there,
    The silver answer rang,–“Not Death, but Love.”

    -by Elizabeth Barret Browning

  13. I thought poem was neat because its short and has a neat pattern in it

    maggie and milly and molly and may
    went down to the beach(to play one day)

    and maggie discovered a shell that sang
    so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles,and

    milly befriended a stranded star
    whose rays five languid fingers were;

    and molly was chased by a horrible thing
    which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

    may came home with a smooth round stone
    as small as a world and as large as alone.

    For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
    it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

  14. The poem is called white i do not know who wrttoe it.
    I liked this poem because the whiteness concets to me in a varity of ways. I would write it down but i left is at school i will post it up on monday evenning

  15. My all-time favorite poem is Bill the Bomber. I have posted it under “Ballad”. This is a great rhyming poem that I’ve read about thirty times. I really wonder if it is because it almost seems that the narrator of this poem had to fight in a war as a grenade person and he really hated it so he made a comical poem about it so he would feel better. I don’t know, just my thought.

  16. I am a homeschool student :- ) and used to not like poetry at all (I used to dread reading it)until last year when my mom had me read a book of it. I now LOVE it!!! I really enjoy being out in the country, when there is snow (and when there isn’t!) which is where this poem is based. The way Frost wrote this poem makes you almost feel like you are there, in the sleigh, watching the “woods fill up with snow,” and the horse shaking its harness bells!

    by Robert Frost

    Whose woods these are I think I know
    His house is in the village though;
    He will not see me stopping here
    To watch his woods fill up with snow.

    The little horse must think it queer
    To stop without a farmhouse near
    Between the woods and frozen lake
    The darkest evening of the year.

    He gives his harness bells a shake
    To ask if there is some mistake.
    The only other sound’s the sweep
    Of easy wind and downy flake.

    The woods are lovely and dark and deep.
    But I have promises to keep,
    And miles to go before I sleep.
    And miles to go before I sleep.

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