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Subh Milis (Sweet jam). It’s a short and powerful Irish poem reminding parents to be kind to their kids.
English translation below. Can’t seem to get the formatting correct on mobile…
Bhí subh milis ar bháscrann an doras
ach mhúch mé an corraí
ionaim a d’éirigh
mar smaoinigh mé ar an lá
a bheadh an bháscrann glan
agus an lámh beag – ar iarraidh…”
There was jam on the door handle
But I quelled the anger
That rose inside me
Because I thought of the day
That the handle would be clean
And the little hand - longed for
Rainer Maria Rilke
Der Panther/ The Panther.
(I don’t really feel the english translation does the poem justice. In german the words create a certain rhythm, nearly like a melody, that I find utterly enchanting)_His gaze against the sweeping of the bars has grown so weary, it can hold no more. To him, there seem to be a thousand bars and back behind those thousand bars no world.
The soft the supple step and sturdy pace, that in the smallest of all circles turns, moves like a dance of strength around a core in which a mighty will is standing stunned.
Only at times the pupil’s curtain slides up soundlessly — . An image enters then, goes through the tensioned stillness of the limbs — and in the heart ceases to be._
----- The original German‐------
_Sein Blick ist vom Vorübergehn der Stäbe so müd geworden, daß er nichts mehr hält. Ihm ist, als ob es tausend Stäbe gäbe und hinter tausend Stäben keine Welt.
Der weiche Gang geschmeidig starker Schritte, der sich im allerkleinsten Kreise dreht, ist wie ein Tanz von Kraft um eine Mitte, in der betäubt ein großer Wille steht.
Nur manchmal schiebt der Vorhang der Pupille sich lautlos auf –. Dann geht ein Bild hinein, geht durch der Glieder angespannte Stille – und hört im Herzen auf zu sein._
Ulysses by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. It always struck me as both humble and proud and it only becomes more meaningful as I age.
Richard Cory
A surprising poem on a dark subject matter. Perhaps one of the best poems that demonstrate how mysterious other people are and how hard it is to truly connect with strangers.
We Wear the Mask by Paul Lawrence Dunbar. I remember reading it in middle school. Poetry hadn’t done much for me at that point of my life but that one got through to me and helped me appreciate the medium much more in general
Ozymandias, because it’s one of the very few I’ve read, and I liked it.
Billy Connolly’s “Mary Rose”
Mary Rose
Sat on a pin
Mary roseLi Bai - Quiet Night Thought
床前明月光
疑是地上霜
举头望明月
低头思故乡Before my bed bright moonlight pools
Almost like frost on the ground
Raising my head I see the shining moon
Bowing my head I think of homeIt’s not DNS,
There’s no way it’s DNS,
It was DNSHow much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood.
How much shit could a dipshit dip if a dipshit could dip shit.
I think about this often.
I do not belong here.
I was looking for this one I never was much of a poem person but this one. I love this one
It is one of the most bittersweet things I’ve ever read.
Really resonates with me in a huge way. Gets me every time.
This reminds me of The Four Leaved Clover
Beware that four leaved clovers can also be seen as a sign of good luck.
“The View From Halfway Down” by Alison Tifel has always resonated with me:
The weak breeze whispers nothing
The water screams sublime
His feet shift, teeter-totter
Deep breath, stand back, it’s timeToes untouch the overpass
Soon he’s water bound
Eyes locked shut but peek to see
The view from halfway downA little wind, a summer sun
A river rich and regal
A flood of fond endorphins
Brings a calm that knows no equalYou’re flying now
You see things much more clear than from the ground
It’s all okay, it would be
Were you not now halfway downThrash to break from gravity
What now could slow the drop
All I’d give for toes to touch
The safety back at topBut this is it, the deed is done
Silence drowns the sound
Before I leaped I should’ve seen
The view from halfway downI really should’ve thought about
The view from halfway down
I wish I could’ve known about
The view from halfway downBojack
Invictus by William Ernst Henley
When I was younger I clung to it’s message of perseverance. It ended up being the first poem that I ever memorized.
Out of the night that covers me Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate I am the captain of my soul.I was just trying to remember this today, thank you!
The Road Not Taken, by Robert Frost
That’s the first one that popped into my mind upon reading the question.
Then there’s this bad boy:
I really like the Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Coleridge. I first encountered it as a result of reading Douglas Adams’ Dirk Gently novels, but one day I saw the original in the library and just read it from start to finish. It’s fantastic, so weird, so compelling.
I also like his Kubla Khan, the imagery of the “caverns measureless to man” and the “sunless sea” have always stuck with me.
