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Nice idea Bob. Don't read nearly as much poetry as I once did but seen some belters lately that other people posted elsewhere, need to dig out more:

Jack Gilbert, in Failing and Flying Wrote:Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It's the same when love comes to an end,
or the marriage fails and people say
they knew it was a mistake, that everybody
said it would never work. That she was
old enough to know better. But anything
worth doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean
on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that
anyone could tell you they would never last.
Every morning she was asleep in my bed
like a visitation, the gentleness in her
like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back
through the hot stony field after swimming,
the sea light behind her and the huge sky
on the other side of that. Listened to her
while we ate lunch. How can they say
the marriage failed? Like the people who
came back from Provence (when it was Provence)
and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell,
but just coming to the end of his triumph.
For my sins I studied A level French during which time a large part of the literature part of the A level was about this man
Charles Baudelaire

I would urge anyone to read some of his work even if you don't have a huge command of French his work was incredible plus he had 6 of his poems banned for being outrageous until the 1940's (probably why I like him so much)
There is a website dedicated to his famous work Les Fleurs du mal
At the tender age of seventeen it totally changed my view on poetry and how one man perceived so many things.
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Baudelaire? How you manage that? Le nœud de vipères, François Mauriac we had. Christ on a bike what a miserable fucker he was! Would much rather have had poems about how great opium is or tinged with gallic eroticism. Maybe not in a Catholic school though. The nuns were up in arms as it was when we staged a performance of Grease at the place FFS, think Baudelaire would have been well off the syllabus. lol

Another one I really liked recently:

Louise Gluck in The Wild Iris Wrote:Witchgrass

comes into the world unwelcome
calling disorder, disorder—

If you hate me so much
don’t bother to give me
a name: do you need
one more slur
in your language, another
way to blame
one tribe for everything—

as we both know,
if you worship
one god, you only need
one enemy—

I’m not the enemy.
Only a ruse to ignore
what you see happening
right here in this bed,
a little paradigm
of failure. One of your precious flowers
dies here almost every day
and you can’t rest until
you attack the cause, meaning
whatever is left, whatever
happens to be sturdier
than your personal passion—

It was not meant
to last forever in the real world.
But why admit that, when you can go on
doing what you always do,
mourning and laying blame,
always the two together.

I don’t need your praise
to survive. I was here first,
before you were here, before
you ever planted a garden.
And I’ll be here when only the sun and moon
are left, and the sea, and the wide field.

I will constitute the field.
I had a huge crush on my French teacher what can I say......
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I think my favourite poem,is a really simple one I heard once:

Two lovers,alone on a hill,and when they kissed,the world stood still.

I also think mid term break by seamus Heaney is incredible. The emotion and shock of it never fails to resonate with me. It's autobiographical, and it's so sad and beautiful at the same time:

I sat all morning in the college sick bay
Counting bells knelling classes to a close.
At two o’clock our neighbors drove me home.

In the porch I met my father crying–
He had always taken funerals in his stride–
And Big Jim Evans saying it was a hard blow.

The baby cooed and laughed and rocked the pram
When I came in, and I was embarrassed
By old men standing up to shake my hand

And tell me they were “sorry for my trouble,”
Whispers informed strangers I was the eldest,
Away at school, as my mother held my hand

In hers and coughed out angry tearless sighs.
At ten o’clock the ambulance arrived
With the corpse, stanched and bandaged by the nurses.

Next morning I went up into the room. Snowdrops
And candles soothed the bedside; I saw him
For the first time in six weeks. Paler now,

Wearing a poppy bruise on his left temple,
He lay in the four foot box as in his cot.
No gaudy scars, the bumper knocked him clear.

A four foot box, a foot for every year.
The most merciful thing in the world...is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents
H.P. Lovecraft
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Here's a couple I did when I was quite an emo teenager lol:

Broken dreams
shattered grace
love lost
faster pace
drive screaming
deceit and lies
lost to me always
screams and cries
search forever
nothing to find
no more passion
daily grind
time for action
take no more
the weight too much
can take no more
help is fleeting
friends are gone
music stops
no more song
hand outsteched
empty token
alone as always
dreams broken

The darkness falls throughout the land
the shore is black from oily sand
the air is thick i cannot breathe
death is upon us with scythe unsheathed
the forests are burning the trees are all no more
the planet is screaming all shrivelled and sore
gaia does weep as the earth does decay
nature is dying as night turns to day
respect for our home is far from our minds
we see the world through tightly drawn blinds
but soon that wont matter as revenge is sought
mother nature returns and she cannot be bought
a plague of this planet called woman and man
will be torn assunder in the cosmic plan
the green will return pollution no more
balance restored she evened the score
evolution peeked at the cretion our race
and now we are gone this is no longer our place
Cookie My common sense is tingling   Cookie


-Muhammad Ali

Get your tongue
of my mouth;
I'm kissing you

Ted Kooser
This.....is real life
Shitmas is Christmas
Christmas is shitmas
Its the new name
For a bloody pain
A made up holiday
Let's get pissed
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Growing old is inevitable, growing up is optional
Time for family
Peace to all men
Football in no mans land
Hark the herald angel
Paper hat for one
Raises a glass to his kids
Surely next year
Next year never comes
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Growing old is inevitable, growing up is optional

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