Hey, Veeky Forums. Who's your favourite poet?

Homer

I have to go with my buddy E.A. Poe here. Poe's poems pwn posers.

This faggot.

and Shakespeare

My boy Algie

mix-up between Ashbery, Guest, & Merrill

Ts Elliot and Shakespeare.

This absolute madman

HD or Williams

Lord Fucking Byron

Lame answer, but Shakespeare.
Robert Frost if that isn't an acceptable answer.

blake so underrated it's unreal desu

so my post was deleted because i posted an inappropriate tumblr depiction of calliope with a naked chest and in panties -_-

how is he underrated? he is generally thought as one of the most famous english poets, isn't he?

>He who shall hurt the little Wren
>Shall never be belovd by Men
>He who the Ox to wrath has movd
>Shall never be by Woman lovd

Billy Collins

could u be more bland if u fucking tried

edgy bro

literally the objectively worst modern poet by almost any standard

Ezra Pound

what a fucking stupid image

you can't blame everyone together for separately holding contradictory opinions. it is quite possible that those who object to long skirts are not the same people as those who object to short skirts; and that when you do find that person who objects to both, it is purely out of regard for fashion, however much that bigotry may be clothed in the language of virtue.

and let's take the case of this 'average person' expressing his or her average and unthinking sort of disapproval, which disapproves of both extremes of overdress and under-dress (and many things besides). still it's obvious that s/he has ideals of dress which can be followed, and that those ideals are predictable. the evidence is: that the maker of this image can guess what those objections will be! A skirt to the ankles is too long, a skirt to the mid-thigh is too short; a headscarf is over-religious and "submissive" (the average person is an idiot about religion), overuse of make-up is ugly and desperate, etc. These are things which anyone can and does learn. If you choose to break from what's generally considered appropriate, you probably know what you're doing, and it's childish to pretend that you don't. "How was I supposed to know I couldn't walk around nude? There's no pleasing this society!"

if the image wants to protest against the tyrannical fashions of the world, I'll gladly join in. but you can't call this an attack on the idea of indecency, because decency doesn't enter into it. The average muddle-headed sort of person thinks long skirts are for their grandmothers' grandmothers, and nudity is for insane or desperate people—in either case, a vague dislike founded in convention and covered over with unmeaning rhetoric, which is really only so many ways of saying "ew." If there is, anywhere, a man or woman who theorizes about decency, what it is, what is its value, how it is expressed in dress, then this man or woman is certainly not being considered here. They will probably say that a headscarf is decent; they will also affirm that a long skirt is decent. They will surely allow that it is decent not to wear makeup. With them, I doubt that there will be anything like a "lottery".

There is one sort of person who can say long skirts are gross and religious, and that short skirts will get you raped, and that you should be ashamed of showing your body and ashamed of not showing enough skin. That is the heathenish unreligious or not-quite-religious or "not practicing somethingarians" who most put their trust in this world and its rotten conventions. It is the mainline conservative Republican and the mainline conservative Democrat. But, in a broader sense, it is most of the men and women who have ever lived, and most of them that shall live yet.

:^)

autism

Shelley

...

there, there, i just posted a random semi-related image

Best faggot

Alan Seeger

...

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Rimbaud, I've never read any of his work but I heard edgy kids on Veeky Forums like him and I want to be cool.

Seriously though, Blake.

that shin hair IS pretty appalling desu those are lads legs ffs

whitman

You better not be a fucking feminist.

pshaw

that is not an answer.

wasn't a question

>HURRY UP PLEASE ITS TIME
what did he mean by this

Jack Gilbert

Exactly

;)

Gogol

wow that was clever. because you can't answer anything but questions, right? one cannot conceivably answer an accusation, or an argument. One cannot be expected to "answer" the charge that he has posted a "stupid" image, because people can only answer questions!

You can't defend that image, nor can he. Instead you'll laugh it off—"why is this guy so mad about one little image? he clearly has some issues lol"—or you'll look for the smallest mistake or inconsistency in one of my posts, and emphasize that—and that will be sufficient. Because you, like the creator of that image, don't care a bit for the truth in this matter or any other.

Byron.

Browning

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Which one?

Take care.

imma ezra pound dat ass :^)

Wallace Stevens.

Shakespeare, Eliot, Donne, and Yeats.

Off the top of my head I couldn't think of one but looking through the books I've read it's definitely Carl Sandburg. Maybe I would put Walt Whitman if I could actually volunteer to drown with him. Borges is a recommeded poet too.

Sappho

O LIFE divine! to sit before
Thee while thy liquid laughter flows
Melodious, and to listen close
To rippling notes from Love's full score.
O music of thy lovely speech !
My rapid heart beats fast and high.
My tongue-tied soul can only sigh.
And strive for words it cannot reach.
O sudden subtly-running fire !
My ears with dinning ringing sing.

Catullus

To sit where I can see your face
And hear your laughter come and go Is greater bliss than all the gods
Can ever know.

The bright dream carries me away

I haven't read enough poetry, but so far Wallace Stevens.

Toss up between these two. I know I have boring taste.

Robinson Jeffers

hart crane, walt whitman, wallace stevens, thomas campion, edmund spenser, shakespeare, ezra pound in spirit

thanks for asking

Goethe

John Clare.

Larry Levis

what book of his should I read, I read one poem of his and fell in love

Robert.

So the solution is moderation. The image depicts two extremes.

HURRY UP PLEASE ITS LIME

Recently getting into poetry. Who should I continue with if I like Rimbaud?

Any partner that turns you on and who you feel comfortable with.

Rilke

No user, you have good taste.

I really don't enjoy poetry but I have to say The Wasteland was very provocative for me. I think because it felt like an epic in its literary scope. Eliot wins by default I guess.

How can you not enjoy poetry?

why is this guy so mad about one little image? he clearly has some issues lol

Robert Browning has been my favorite poet of late too.

>Sappho
Based as hellllll

And with precious and royal perfume
you anointed yourself.

On soft beds you satisfied your passion.

And there was no dance,
no holy place
from which we were absent.

Charles Baudelaire, I'm really trying to steal his style but I find it so hard beings he is so esoteric
If anyone has tips im all ears.

have you read him in russian? excited to be good enough to do this.

What are the best lyric poets for someone just starting out?

Learn to capitalise, please.

>this post
wtf I hate Veeky Forums now

You are my dude, my dude.

We make our meek adjustments,
Contented with such random consolations
As the wind deposits
In slithered and too ample pockets.

For we can still love the world, who find
A famished kitten on the step, and know
Recesses for it from the fury of the street,
Or warm torn elbow coverts.

We will sidestep, and to the final smirk
Dally the doom of that inevitable thumb
That slowly chafes its puckered index toward us,
Facing the dull squint with what innocence
And what surprise!

And yet these fine collapses are not lies
More than the pirouettes of any pliant cane;
Our obsequies are, in a way, no enterprise.
We can evade you, and all else but the heart:
What blame to us if the heart live on.

The game enforces smirks; but we have seen
The moon in lonely alleys make
A grail of laughter of an empty ash can,
And through all sound of gaiety and quest
Have heard a kitten in the wilderness.

robert zimmerman

you can't skim the Zim

>Baudelaire
>esoteric
t. 12 y/o

what's he like

I keep seeing his books in the library

A.E. Housman

>shel silverstein

He's better than any of the "big six" tbqh

+1 for Misanthropic but poetically rugged cynics

The man-brained and man-handed ground-ape, physically
The most repulsive of all hot-blooded animals
Up to that time of the world: they had dug a pitfall
And caught a mammoth, but how could their sticks and stones
Reach the life in that hide? They danced around the pit, shrieking
With ape excitement, flinging sharp flints in vain, and the stench of their bodies
Stained the white air of dawn; but presently one of them
Remembered the yellow dancer, wood-eating fire
That guards the cave-mouth: he ran and fetched him, and others
Gathered sticks at the wood’s edge; they made a blaze
And pushed it into the pit, and they fed it high, around the mired sides
Of their huge prey. They watched the long hairy trunk
Waver over the stifle trumpeting pain,
And they were happy.

Meanwhile the intense color and nobility of sunrise,
Rose and gold and amber, flowed up the sky. Wet rocks were shining, a little wind
Stirred the leaves of the forest and the marsh flag-flowers; the soft valley between the low hills
Became as beautiful as the sky; while in its midst, hour after hour, the happy hunters
Roasted their living meat slowly to death.

These are the people.
This is the human dawn. As for me, I would rather

Be a worm in a wild apple than a son of man.
But we are what we are, and we might remember
Not to hate any person, for all are vicious;
And not be astonished at any evil, all are deserved;
And not fear death; it is the only way to be cleansed.

Not even close

Sing with your laugh, for I am reminded
of a day when your body was the river
that spun through my veins, split me, and blinded
me to duality. You were my lover,
though you knew it not then. A laugh like yours
is a song that floats through Alpine shadows
that seep through the summer grasses with more
coolness that blooms. Like carnations it grows
a peace which tangles with each inward breath,
the bounty of life at its most undead-
your laugh. Suddenly it is more than a laugh.
It brings me nearer to myself- the choice
of a knife that is brutal, or merely red
in the aftermath refreshness of its voice.

Emily Dickinson

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Yeats

Hopkins. He was really onto something with his use of English I think

I also really like Pound but a lot of his stuff is just so opaque that I still haven't actually got around to reading all of it

Since this is the first reference I've seen to Blake since reading his section in a poetry anthology I just got, would you guys be able to help me understand the ending of "The Book of Thel" if you've read it?

I had no problem with the bulk of it (God loving even the lowest, coming to terms with death because one is loved in life and stands by God in death), but am totally at a loss as to why Thel enters the grave, what the voices are which murmur to her in the grave (and why they murmur at all), and why those voices make her panic and leap back into the world of the living.

The image is nonsense