What Is Your Favorite Poem?

Question

It doesnt have to rhyme, but it has to be fairly long. I need to read a descripive piece for my performing arts class that is 90 seconds- 2 minutes.

I chose to do poetry, but I need some help :). I found How Do I Love Thee by Elizabeth Barret Browning but I'm looking for something a little longer and as descriptive as possible.

Lots of adjectives. Prefererrably about love but, anything will do.

Thank you very much :)

dani

Answer 1

Invictus-William Ernest Henley

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.

Answer 2

The Mad Gardener's Song

He thought he saw an Elephant,

That practised on a fife:

He looked again, and found it was

A letter from his wife.

'At length I realise,' he said,

The bitterness of Life!'

He thought he saw a Buffalo

Upon the chimney-piece:

He looked again, and found it was

His Sister's Husband's Niece.

'Unless you leave this house,' he said,

"I'll send for the Police!'

He thought he saw a Rattlesnake

That questioned him in Greek:

He looked again, and found it was

The Middle of Next Week.

'The one thing I regret,' he said,

'Is that it cannot speak!'

He thought he saw a Banker's Clerk

Descending from the bus:

He looked again, and found it was

A Hippopotamus.

'If this should stay to dine,' he said,

'There won't be much for us!'

He thought he saw a Kangaroo

That worked a coffee-mill:

He looked again, and found it was

A Vegetable-Pill.

'Were I to swallow this,' he said,

'I should be very ill!'

He thought he saw a Coach-and-Four

That stood beside his bed:

He looked again, and found it was

A Bear without a Head.

'Poor thing,' he said, 'poor silly thing!

It's waiting to be fed!'

He thought he saw an Albatross

That fluttered round the lamp:

He looked again, and found it was

A Penny-Postage Stamp.

'You'd best be getting home,' he said:

'The nights are very damp!'

He thought he saw a Garden-Door

That opened with a key:

He looked again, and found it was

A Double Rule of Three:

'And all its mystery,' he said,

'Is clear as day to me!'

He thought he saw a Argument

That proved he was the Pope:

He looked again, and found it was

A Bar of Mottled Soap.

'A fact so dread,' he faintly said,

'Extinguishes all hope!'

    -- Lewis Carroll

Answer 3

my favorite poems are

Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe

Because I could not stop for Death by Emily Dickinson

The Road not Taken by robert frost

these are poems that make you think a lot and as u analyze them you find out something new about it...if u need help w/ a particular poem of the one's i mention just send me an e-mail

Answer 4

So far, I like The Raven By Edgar Allan Poe.

Answer 5

Wings of a Butterfly By Me

Your friendship is special

Like the flowers that bloom,

Or when a butterfly emerges

From within its cocoon...

You remind me of that butterfly,

Loving and free,

Bright and colorful,

For the world to see...

We will share sunshine and rainbows;

Sometimes, the rain and the snow;

We'll stand together through it,

While the cold winds blow...

When the time is right,

We won't stop to ask "Why?"

Our friendship will take flight

On the wings of a butterfly ... and a longer longer one isI am too young to understand,

The facts of life,

Nor do I want to comprehend,

The everyday strife,

But idly,

I stumbled in,

To a world which at first,

Appear quite grim.

Like a ‘canon’ song,

Life played its tunes,

Ascending melody,

And the full bright moon,

Surrounded by,

The black dark sky,

Sullen background bass,

And the many goodbyes.

I stood amongst,

The patches of green,

Spread my arms wide open,

And starts to dream,

Escape from the daily troubles,

The politics in my life,

Block out noises,

And shuts my eyes.

I dream of a world,

With harmony and peace,

We learn to respect each other,

And work in unity,

A world where a child,

Shouldn’t have to struggle each day,

And fight for survival,

In the many harshest ways.

You say I’m too young,

And inexperience as well,

Too small to change the world;

A hermit crab in its tiny shell,

I will continue to spread the message,

I’ll drag my shell through the sand,

Until a person comes along,

And offer me his golden hands

Sometimes life can be a burden,

Things become harder each day,

When it seems all hopes fail,

And nothing goes your way,

But out of all disappointment,

You suddenly found grace,

‘It will all be over’,

A good friend once say.

The world is tough,

And it’s naturally unfair,

I know it’s hard to be yourself,

And people doesn’t seems to care,

But perspective is really,

Important indeed,

You can see the glass half empty,

Or half full as you please.

Inner conflict can drown you,

It is hard to overcome,

But once you resolve it,

Then the battle is won,

Nothing can be stronger,

Than passion itself,

Nothing can be longer,

Than perseverance, without a doubt.

The autumn leaves dance,

As it got caught in the wind,

I walked on that same old road,

To observe that flashback scene,

Back then I failed to understand,

Life’s troubles nor was I that keen,

Now I’m older and wiser,

I understood what it all means.

To appreciate the present,

And not preoccupied by the past,

You control your own future,

And allow what should last,

The world is smiling,

And laughing with you,

But you can only allow it,

If you feel good wants to.

Not by me but by my cuzin

Answer 6

"Marina"

By T.S. Eliot

Quis hic locus, quae regio, quae mundi plaga?

What seas what shores what grey rocks and what islands

What water lapping the bow

And scent of pine and the woodthrush singing through the fog

What images return

O my daughter.

Those who sharpen the tooth of the dog, meaning

Death

Those who glitter with the glory of the hummingbird, meaning

Death

Those who sit in the sty of contentment, meaning

Death

Those who suffer the ecstasy of the animals, meaning

Death

Are become insubstantial, reduced by a wind,

A breath of pine, and the woodsong fog

By this grace dissolved in place

What is this face, less clear and clearer

The pulse in the arm, less strong and stronger—

Given or lent? more distant than stars and nearer than the eye

Whispers and small laughter between leaves and hurrying feet

Under sleep, where all the waters meet.

Bowsprit cracked with ice and paint cracked with heat.

I made this, I have forgotten

And remember.

The rigging weak and the canvas rotten

Between one June and another September.

Made this unknowing, half conscious, unknown, my own.

The garboard strake leaks, the seams need caulking.

This form, this face, this life

Living to live in a world of time beyond me; let me

Resign my life for this life, my speech for that unspoken,

The awakened, lips parted, the hope, the new ships.

What seas what shores what granite islands towards my timbers

And woodthrush calling through the fog

My daughter.

  

Answer 7

the butterflies' ball ...i have no idea who it is by

Answer 8

Try Dover Beach by Matthew Arnold. It's a great poem and should get you within your time limit.

You can find it here:   http://www.usp.nus.edu.sg/victorian/auth...

Answer 9

"She walks in beauty", by Lord Byron,

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies,

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meets in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellow'd to that tender light

Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impair'd the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress

Or softly lightens o'er her face,

Where thoughts serenely sweet express

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek and o'er that brow

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent.

How beautiful!

Answer 10

My favorite style of poem is the Haiku. (5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables).