The trends I'm observing so far in my selection of poetry is varied. All of my poems are the theme of love but I picked a wide range of poetic styles and periods.
My first poem that I posted last week is Rumi, one of the most widely know poets. His style of poetry is mystical and all inclusive. Rumi is my favorite poet!
The second poem I posted last week is a poet I had never heard of. I found it on a metaphysical website and just really liked it! I am naturally attracted to poems that are spiritually based. I also really like the message about unconditional love.
The third poem I posted is by Henry David Thoreau, known as a classic poetic and is loved by many. His work has many metaphors. For example:
A perfectly healthy sentence, it is true, is extremely rare. For the most part we miss the hue and fragrance of the thought; as if we could be satisfied with the dews of the morning or evening without their colors, or the heavens without their azure.
He was a man of literature and nature.
My fourth poem was of a man I had not known of until I found his poem. I love that it was easy to understand and spoke of "true love," something that seems rare and to be reminded of is a true blessing and a feeling of home.
Lastly my fifth poem was of Maya Angelo. She is so many things yet so humble. She is a modern day female poet, educator, historian, best-selling author, actress, playwright, civil-rights activist, producer and director. She is loved the world over. Her poems speak volumes about love, humanity and what it means to be a women.
My poems for this entry are as follows:
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1) "Love Within a Storm"
We mad love within a storm
in the midst of passion and chaos
somewhere, somehow our true bond
of friendship was lost
In the eye of the storm
The rain always falls harder
Those who prevail this trauma
will learn 2 bring their love farther
But now the storm has passed
and the seas of our friendship R calm
But as long as I live I will remember
the love within the storm.
By Tupac Shakur
http://www.tupac-poetry.net/poems/LoveWithinaStorm.html
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2) "Shall I compare thee to a Summer’s day"
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And Summer’s lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And oft’ is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s
changing course untrimm’d:
But thy eternal Summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou
wanderest in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
By William Shakespeare
http://www.makeliterature.com/blog/famous-love-poems
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3) "A Red, Red Rose"
O, my Luve's like a red, red rose,
That's newly sprung in June.
O, my Luve's like a melodie
That's sweetly play'd in tune.
As fair as thou, my bonnie lass,
So deep in luve am I;
And I will love thee still, my dear,
Till a' the seas gang dry.
Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi' the sun:
I will love thess till, my dear,
While the sands o' life shall run:
And fare thee well, my only luve!
And fare thee weel, a while!
And I will come again, my luve,
Tho' it ware ten thousand mile.
By Robert Burns
http://www.poemofquotes.com/articles/famous-love.poems2006.php
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4) "Ode to Beauty"
Who gave thee, O Beauty, The keys of this breast,— Too credulous lover Of blest and unblest?
Say, when in lapsed ages Thee knew I of old? Or what was the service For which I was sold? When first my eyes saw thee, I found me thy thrall, By magical drawings, Sweet tyrant of all!
I drank at thy fountain False waters of thirst; Thou intimate stranger, Thou latest and first!
Thy dangerous glances Make women of men; New-born, we are melting Into nature again.
Lavish, lavish promiser, Nigh persuading gods to err!
Guest of million painted forms, Which in turn thy glory warms!
The frailest leaf, the mossy bark, The acorn’s cup, the raindrop’s arc, The swinging spider’s silver line, The ruby of the drop of wine, The shining pebble of the pond, Thou inscribest with a bond, In thy momentary play, Would bankrupt nature to repay.
Ah, what avails it To hide or to shun Whom the Infinite One Hath granted His throne?
The heaven high over Is the deep’s lover; The sun and sea, Informed by thee, Before me run, And draw me on, Yet fly me still, As Fate refuses To me the heart Fate for me chooses.
Is it that my opulent soul Was mingled from the generous whole; Sea-valleys and the deep of skies Furnished several supplies; And the sands whereof I’m made Draw me to them, self-betrayed?
I turn the proud portfolios Which hold the grand designs Of Salvator, of Guercino, And Piranesi’s lines. I hear the lofty paeans Of the masters of the shell, Who heard the starry music And recount the numbers well; Olympian bards who sung Divine Ideas below, Which always find us young, And always keep us so.
Oft, in streets or humblest places, I detect far-wandered graces, Which, from Eden wide astray, In lonely homes have lost their way.
Thee gliding through the sea of form, Like the lightning through the storm, Somewhat not to be possessed, Somewhat not to be caressed.
No feet so fleet could ever find, No perfect form could ever bind. Thou eternal fugitive, Hovering over all that live, Quick and skilful to inspire Sweet, extravagant desire, Starry space and lily-bell Filling with thy roseate smell, Wilt not give the lips to taste Of the nectar which thou hast. All that’s good and great with thee Works in close conspiracy; Thou hast bribed the dark and lonely To report thy features only, And the cold and purple morning Itself with thoughts of thee adorning; The leafy dell, the city mart, Equal trophies of thine art; E’en the flowing azure air Thou hast touched for my despair; And, if I languish into dreams, Again I meet the ardent beams.
Queen of things!
I dare not die In Being’s deeps past ear and eye; Lest there I find the same deceiver, And be the sport of Fate for ever. Dread Power, but dear!
if God thou be, Unmake me quite, or give thyself to me!
By Ralph Waldo Emerson
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5) "If thou must love me, let it be for nought a poem"
If thou must love me, let it be for nought
Except for love's sake only. Do not say
"I love her for her smile her look her way
Of speaking gently, for a trick of thought
That falls in well with mine, and certes brought
A sense of ease on such a day"
For these things in themselves, Beloved, may
Be changed, or change for thee, and love, so wrought,
May be unwrought so. Neither love me for
Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheek dry,
A creature might forget to weep, who bore
Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby!
But love me for love's sake, that evermore
Thou may'st love on, through love's eternity.
By Elisabeth Barrett Browning
http://www.love-poems.me.uk/barrett_browning_I_love_thee_l.htm
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