Feb. 2nd, 2009

edgarallenfrog: various pics of harvey milk (Default)
When you see this, post your favorite poem.

You do realize that asking an English major to pick just ONE favorite poem results in much weeping and gnashing of teeth, right?

Bastards.

*picks one poem at random*

So Penseroso

Come, megrims, mollygrubs and collywobbles!
Come, gloom that limps and misery that hobbles!
Come also, most exquisite meloncholiage,
As dank and decadent as November foliage!
I crave to shudder in your moist embrace,
To feel your oystery fingers on my face.
This is my hour of sadness and soulfulness,
and cursed be he who dissipates my dolefulness.
I do not desire to be cheered,
I desire to retire, I am thinking of growing a beard.
A sorrowful beard with a mournful, dolorous hue in it,
with ashes and glue in it.
I want to be drunk with despair,
I want to caress my care.
I do not wish to be blithe,
I wish to recoil and writhe.
I will revel in cosmic woe,
and I want my woe to show.
This is the morbid moment,
this is the ebony hour.
Aroint thee, sweetness and light!
I want to be dark and sour!
Away with the bird that twitters!
All that glitters is jitters!
Roses, roses are gray,
Violets cry Boo! and frighten me.
Sugar is stimulating,
and people conspire to brighten me.
Go hence, people, go hence!
Go sit on a picket fence!
Go gargle with mineral oil,
Go out and develop a boil!
Melancholy is what I brag and boast of,
Melancholy I plan to make the most of.
You beaming optimists shall not destroy it,
But while I am at it, I intend to enjoy it.
Go, people, stuff your mouths with soap,
and remember, please, that when I mope, I mope!
~Ogden Nash

I'm an egotistical bitch, so how about I also post my favorite poem that I have ever written? Even that is going to be hard. Let's see.

Chance of Rain


Trying to learn to like the cold.
Because I'm always
cold.
So I might as well get used to it.
Right?
And find something I love
in something I hate?
Isn't that the way to go?
I don't even remember why
I hate it
anymore.
It's been a part of me so long.
The cold
I'm trying to learn to like
(to love).
Trying to learn to touch
to feel
the distant things I cannot reach
a million miles away
under my skin
in my blood
my bones
my marrow
me.

So here I sit
(in this chair
in this house
that isn't home)
an empty shell longing
to be filled
with something more than
me.
Trying to think of something
else that I could
be.
I miss the feeling
I miss the flood
The rain, the pain, the tears, the blood
the bones, the marrow
me.
Reaching out
into the dark
I find something there to touch
to feel.
I wrap the blanket
tightly
and try to remember
what it feels like
to be warm.

This was just going to be the meme, but right before I hit post, I realized I should tell you all what's been going on, so for those who want to read a rambling rant, here goes )

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