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Old 25-11-2010, 09:37 PM   #1
Drella
I never loved you anyway.
 
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Join Date: Feb 2009
Location: Exeter.
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Poetry x)

WHAL. I have decided I'd quite like a new poetry book for Christmas... I just don't know who/what I want yet x)

Can anyone recommend any good poets? (:
At the moment I like people like Carol Ann Duffy, Sylvia Plath, etc but I'm open to suggestion.
I'm considering Betjeman at the moment?

Any responses would be helpful, I just need something. (:



It didn't matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls,
but only that we had loved them and that they hadn't heard us calling,
still do not hear us calling them from out of those rooms where they went to be alone for all time,
and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together.


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Old 25-11-2010, 10:21 PM   #2
[Desolation.]
 
Join Date: Mar 2009

Alfred Lord Tennyson + Wilfred Owen are my favourites...but theyre war poets really.
response :)

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Old 26-11-2010, 12:33 PM   #3
Swompt
 
Join Date: Nov 2010

Hi, Drella. You could also have a look at some of Emily Dickinson's (1,775!) poems, one of which I have in my signature down there.



Much madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye;

Much sense the starkest madness.

’T is the majority

In this, as all, prevails.

Assent, and you are sane;

Demur,—you ’re straightway dangerous,

And handled with a chain.

Emily Dickinson


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Old 06-12-2010, 08:03 PM   #4
Fry
 
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Join Date: Dec 2009
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Charles Baudelaire, John Donne, also agree with the Emily Dickinson recommendation :)




Stop thinking about what I want, what he wants, what your parents want. What do you want?

(Used to be ~sonic~)


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Old 06-12-2010, 09:13 PM   #5
Meg
 
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Join Date: Dec 2008
Location: (Just outside of) Birmingham, England
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Pablo Neruda, 20 love poems and a song of despair. It's SO beautiful.

"The light wraps you in its mortal flame.
Abstracted pale mourner, standing that way
against the old propellers of twilight
that revolves around you.

Speechless, my friend,
alone in the loneliness of this hour of the dead
and filled with lives of fire,
and pure heir of the ruined day.

A bough of fruit falls from the sun on your dark garment.
The great roots of night
grow suddenly from your soul,
and the things that hide in you come out again
so that a blue and pallid people,
your newly born, takes nourishment.

Oh magnificent and fecund and magnetic slave
of the circle that moves in turn through black and gold:
rise, lead and possess a creation
so rich in life that its flowers perish
and it is full of sadness."



& I told you to be patient
& I told you to be fine
& I told you to be balanced
& I told you to be kind



Come on, skinny love, just last the year


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