Your favourite poems.

[Woolfe]

Mines has to be Dulce et Decorum Estby Wilfred Owen.

Wont quote the whole poem, go google if you wanna, but particularly:
"If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est
Pro patria mori."

Although entirely written regarding, and completely and immeasurably relevant to the First World War and the hypocrisy of politicians words compared to the reality of the front-line, I think the same feelings still apply today, both in conflict and at home.

My main example being how there tends to be a tendency for people to condemn war and security services and the police with one hand, while demanding an end to terrorism and bombings in the middle east and the murder of aid workers with the other hand. It seems a lot like the position's been reversed - the people denounce their troops, and their troops defend their people.

I just think it's quite ironic that the coin's been flipped, but ultimately, the song remains the same.

(Here endeth my philosophical input. :tongue

Ky xxx

[zeon]

i cant find my poem that was bout my depression and its got strong wording in it

[sox-and-the-city]

I'm a great lover of Wendy Cope. Her voracious wit and easy, masterful style are things i definitely aspire to. I don't have a single 'favourite poem', but i DO adore this one with all the energy i can muster:

Bloody men !

Wendy Cope, 1945-

Bloody men are like bloody buses
You wait for about a year
And as soon as one approaches your stop
Two or three others appear.

You look at them flashing their indicators,
Offering you a ride.
You're trying to read the destinations,
You haven't much time to decide.

If you make a mistake, there is no turning back.
Jump off, and you'll stand there and gaze
While the cars and the taxis and lorries go by
And the minutes, the hours, the days.

[RoydonLeeJ]

My favourite poet I have to say must be Seamus Heany or Gillian Clarke, both are brilliant. Heany writes about childhood a lot and the changes in growing up. Clarke write quite a lot about motherhood and families, something which really appeals to me but only when I'm feeling broody.