Best poet?

Question

Best poet?

Answer 1

I don't read much.    Bukowski probably my favorite.

Answer 2

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Right next to me, of course.

Answer 3

christina rossetti.  read goblin market.

Answer 4

Pam Ayres:

I am going to kill my husband,I have stuck all I can stick.

His constant criticising is getting on my wick.

He takes it all for granted,

But Tonight I can relax,

For the minute he complains,I shall Whop him with the axe.

Yes I'm going to kill my husband,

I shall have him to be sure,

He's never going to curse my navigation any more.

I drive him to distraction,when I read a map,I know.

But Tonight I'm going to drive him where he didn't want to go.

So when he starts haranguing me,till I'm a nervous wreck,shouts and spits and rages,

Till the veins swell in his neck.

As he grabs the map from me

There'll be no turning back, I will calmly reach behind me and I'll Whop Him with the jack.

I Mean,he gets a cold and I'm supposed to sympathise,

And his sneezes shake the rafters,and the tears roll from his eyes.

He looks so Woebegone,like the back end of a Bus,

And yet When I am ill he tells me not to fuss.

It's true he's got to go.

You may not think I've got the right,

But He Snores you see and I should know

I'm with him every night.

With a horrifying steady rythmn,Whistle,snore and snort,

Well tonight he's going to stay asleep,

For longer than he thought.

Your Honour I Confess,

That With A Satisfying Thwack,I hit him With the Frying Pan from seven paces back.

The Weapon was Examined,

By The Jury good and true,

It was All made up of Women,

And They All Said,......"After You!"

Answer 5

Robert Frost.

THE ROAD NOT TAKEN

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Answer 6

Paul Francis

I played connect the dots with your beauty marks

And I ended up with picture perfect sheet music

I read your musical notes with a composer's eyes

And heard our song for the first time

My spine is still tingling, mental images of your fine tune

is what I've been nodding my head to lately

Every now and then you can catch me humming

your nudity under my heavy breath

I heavily suggest you resurrect

your ancient neglected dust collector

If you distrust the distance in my seldom plucked heart strings

Sit stripped before your full length

Perform your reflection backwards

Maybe then you will understand the rhythm in my movement

Listen when the news is sent

Extend when the rules are bent

I'll be waiting to take your leave

Make me a victim of your two step

Make me an apprentice of your body parts

Teach me to dance to your beauty marks

I'm stepping on toes here and I don't care

It's hopeless, it's hopeless

It's hopelessness holding this openess to blow a kiss

So close your lips but don't get pissed

and throw a fist at this vocalist

I'm not emotionless, in fact I broke my wrist

when I wrote the list of all those I miss

This is my poker face, Mister Feel Nothing

Answer 7

Walt Whitman.

A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;

How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.

I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.

…

And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.

…

What do you think has become of the young and old men?

And what do you think has become of the women and children?

They are alive and well somewhere,

The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,

And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the end to arrest it,

And ceas'd the moment life appear'd.

All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,

And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.