Name a better opening for a poem than

Emberfire
Emberfire

Name a better opening for a poem than:
I was the shadow of the waxwing slain
By the false azure in the windowpane

pro tip: you can´t

Attached: palefire.jpg (1.81 MB, 2411x3007)

WebTool
WebTool

cells interlinked within cells interlinked

LuckyDusty
LuckyDusty

Deep in the shady sadness of a vale
Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,
Far from the fiery noon, and eve's one star,
Sat gray-hair'd Saturn, quiet as a stone,
Still as the silence round about his lair;
Forest on forest hung about his head
Like cloud on cloud. No stir of air was there,
Not so much life as on a summer's day
Robs not one light seed from the feather'd grass,
But where the dead leaf fell, there did it rest.

CouchChiller
CouchChiller

Spesso il male di vivere ho incontrato

AwesomeTucker
AwesomeTucker

In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.

PurpleCharger
PurpleCharger

Achilles’ wrath, to Greece the direful spring
Of woes unnumber’d, heavenly goddess, sing!
That wrath which hurl’d to Pluto’s gloomy reign
The souls of mighty chiefs untimely slain;
Whose limbs unburied on the naked shore,
Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore.
Since great Achilles and Atrides strove,
Such was the sovereign doom, and such the will of Jove!

viagrandad
viagrandad

Sing in me muse, and through me tell the story of that man skilled in all ways contending

lostmypassword
lostmypassword

Τranslations are for kids.
Greek is for men

Μῆνιν ἄειδε, θεά, Πηληϊάδεω Ἀχιλῆος
οὐλομένην, ἣ μυρί᾽ Ἀχαιοῖς ἄλγε᾽ ἔθηkε,
πολλὰς δ᾽ ἰφθίμους ψυχὰς Ἄϊδι προΐαψεν
ἡρώων, αὐτοὺς δὲ ἑλώρια τεῦχε kύνεσσιν
5 οἰωνοῖσί τε πᾶσι, Διὸς δ᾽ ἐτελείετο βουλή,
ἐξ οὗ δὴ τὰ πρῶτα διαστήτην ἐρίσαντε
Ἀτρεΐδης .

Gigastrength
Gigastrength

The tiger
He destroyed his cage

Snarelure
Snarelure

You are but a feeble 20th century Russian
Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of silence and slow time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fring'd legend haunts about thy shape
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy?

LuckyDusty
LuckyDusty

the second line doesn't scan right
:(

Snarelure
Snarelure

how do i read this

Flameblow
Flameblow

Get get get get
Got got got got
Blood rush to my
Head lit hot lock
Poppin’ off the
Fuckin’ block knot
Clockin’ wrist slit
Watch bent thought bot

TalkBomber
TalkBomber

Não sou nada.
Nunca serei nada.
Não posso querer ser nada.
À parte isso, tenho en mim todos os sonhos do mundo.

FastChef
FastChef

poet John Keats
#12 on top 500 poets

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Poems by John Keats : 7 / 217

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A Thing Of Beauty (Endymion) - Poem by John Keats
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A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

JunkTop
JunkTop

kill me for this shit

takes2long
takes2long

Why don't more writers insist so rigigly on the sound of writing like Joyce, Pound, and Nabokov. Hemingway called prose extended poetry and all the best writers do it.

Playboyize
Playboyize

Moй дядя, caмых чecтных пpaвил
Кoгдa нe в шyткy зaнeмoг
Oн yвaжaть ceбя зacтaвл
И лyчшe выдyмaть нe мoг

fucking fight me, pseud

Flameblow
Flameblow

It is true. Keats got very lucky with that verse. Indeed, it is the best opening in the history of poetry, even if much of that poem is mediocre.

Overall, Dante, Homer (Iliad, that is), Virgil, Goethe, Camões, Pound (very intelligently using a translation of a translation of Homer), Chaucer, TS Eliot, Ariosto and other have much better opening sequences, but the very best opening line is, indeed, that one by Keats.

Não é comparável ao que há de melhor.

RumChicken
RumChicken

But Hemingway didn't. His prose is dry, his ideas simplistic and I doubt he would ever be able to write a simple sonnet without sounding like a fraud.

What you are looking for is Baroque writing. Check Marvell and Donne. TS Eliot commented a lot on Lancelot Andrewes, but I was never able to find his works in my country. Other than that, learn Italian and read Petrarca, Tasso and Ariosto, as well as Poliziano. Dante and Cavalcanti too, although in their case sound and meaning are equally important, which makes them superior poets.

After Italian, go for the troubadours (Arnaut, Rimbaut) and the great Iberians (Góngora, Quevedo, Camões).

ZeroReborn
ZeroReborn

Não é comparável ao que há de melhor.
retard

FastChef
FastChef

Attached: 1508648118684.jpg (26 KB, 600x631)

PurpleCharger
PurpleCharger

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse
OP BTFO.

Nude_Bikergirl
Nude_Bikergirl

Because hemingway matched Shakespeare through rhetoric, unlike every other writer who have to use fancy syntax to match Shakespeare in style or insight. He stripped down the best writers into the most distilled prose ever written. Better realist than Tolstoy, more honest than Twain and better than every one of his contemporaries, except maybe Joyce.

Nude_Bikergirl
Nude_Bikergirl

For me, if you have to choose between sound and sense, always go with sense. (If you can have both, then by all means, do it).

In poetry, the greatest thing is the metaphor, not the sound. If you will need to sacrifice your metaphor to find better-sounding words and fit the meter you are doing it wrong.

Soft_member
Soft_member

You can't be serious.

girlDog
girlDog

there was a baboon who one afternoon
said "i think i will fly to the sun"

happy_sad
happy_sad

Good God Pope is so bad

askme
askme

house-mouse, kek

Poker_Star
Poker_Star

I have been one acquainted with the night

Methnerd
Methnerd

Based Frostposter,

Attached: OK-with-Jim.jpg (69 KB, 570x428)

eGremlin
eGremlin

Wisdom, the dawns break with unskilled rays
No longer do I have the right to plain words
My heart dims, my eyes are ablaze.

Nude_Bikergirl
Nude_Bikergirl

yuh agreed, just a pretentious shithead with no substance to his style

CouchChiller
CouchChiller

Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura
che la diritta via era smarrita

CodeBuns
CodeBuns

“‘There must be some kind of way out of here,’
Said the joker to the King.”

TechHater
TechHater

Glad you could grace us with your presence, ye great arbiter of all that is good in the world of literature, ye reader of all poems ever written

idontknow
idontknow

Ed Sheeran isn't poetry you fucking pleb

RavySnake
RavySnake

Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table

likme
likme

Ces nymphes, je les veux perpétuer.

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