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Post your favorite poems and poets, or some of your poetry if you have it :)

"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
There is society, where none intrudes,
By the deep Sea, and music in its roar;
I love not Man the less, but Nature more."
-Lord Byron

I'm not the pheasant plucker, I'm the pheasant plucker's son.
And I'll keep on plucking pheasant 'til the pheasant plucker comes

There once was a woman from Venus, who had a body shaped like a-

This haiku will have
some shock value at the end
penis vagina

This bird cooks pasta.
Just look at that bird cooking!
Its a miracle.

I saw a rainbow
On the day my grandma died.
Fucking lesbian.

For fifteen cents a
Day, you can feed an Afri-
can. They eat pennies.

Old people's skin sags
because it is being pulled
toward the underworld.

My aunt used to say
"Slow and steady wins the race."
She died in a fire.

A few of my favorites from Bo Burnham.

Trololololol
Dodongo Yeahyeahyeah.

-SlyFoxHound

Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
But enough talk.
Have at you!

Like the moon over
the day my genius and brawn
are lost on these fools ~Haiku

Yes, this is an actual poem.

Ode to a Goldfish:

O Wet Pet

I like where this thread
is going into because
I like poetry.

a shitty haiku by Mr.J

Guys, when I said "Justin Bieber writes the best poetry" I meant it as a joke.

But fine, if you want a haiku, here:

A haiku for you
It is my very own, see
This is the last line

A Justin Beiber comment
heralds unjust karma--
poor Russian fellow

and here's Invictus:

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.

Putin just loves his
St. Valentine's Day surprise
Let's have some vodka

Posting in a thread
I am given low krama
I am successful

EGGS RATED – Shel Silverstein

These eggs
Are eggscellent.
I'm not eggsaggerating.
You can tell by my eggspression
They're eggceptional--
Eggstra fluffy,
Eggstremely tasty,
Cooked eggsactly right
By an eggspert
With lots of eggsperience.
Now I'll eggsamine the bill….
Ooh--much more eggspensive
Than I eggspected.
I gotta get out of here.
Where's the eggxit?

"Der Jammerwoch" (translated by Robert Scott from Lewis Carroll)

Es brillig war. Die schlichte Toven
Wirrten und wimmelten in Waben;
Und aller-mümsige Burggoven
Die mohmen Räth' ausgraben.

»Bewahre doch vor Jammerwoch!
Die Zähne knirschen, Krallen kratzen!
Bewahr' vor Jubjub-Vogel, vor
Frumiösen Banderschnätzchen!«

Er griff sein vorpals Schwertchen zu,
Er suchte lang das manchsan' Ding;
Dann, stehend unterm Tumtum Baum,
Er an-zu-denken-fing.

Als stand er tief in Andacht auf,
Des Jammerwochen's Augen-feuer
Durch tulgen Wald mit Wiffek kam
Ein burbelnd Ungeheuer!

Eins, Zwei! Eins, Zwei! Und durch und durch
Sein vorpals Schwert zerschnifer-schnück,
Da blieb es todt! Er, Kopf in Hand,
Geläumfig zog zurück.

»Und schlugst Du ja den Jammerwoch?
Umarme mich, mien Böhm'sches Kind!
O Freuden-Tag! O Halloo-Schlag!«
Er schortelt froh-gesinnt.

Es brillig war. Die schlichte Toven
Wirrten und wimmelten in Waben;
Und aller-mümsige Burggoven
Die mohmen Räth' ausgraben.

Sim, sei bem

Que nunca serei alguém.
Sei de sobra
Que nunca terei uma obra.
Sei, enfim,
Que nunca saberei de mim.
Sim, mas agora,
Enquanto dura esta hora,
Este luar, estes ramos,
Esta paz em que estamos,
Deixem-me crer
O que nunca poderei ser.

Fernando Pessoa

This was an old I did for college…

The RIDER

I'm the one… The Rider. I am just one of many generations of riders. We're heroes of the world. Though, it comes at a cost…
Our powers save people and pain us. To be a rider, you have to be burdened with a curse. I used to be a normal human being, without a care in the world. Then, THEY came in…
They, the Shocker, experimented on me. An organization bent on ruling the world. It's just that they made the mistake of messing with me. Their schemes are what gave me my powers… It's what made me their enemy.
Now, as I ride through the night, I spot an army of grunts. I get off and I do my job…

HENSHIN!!! RIDER KICK!!

A burden I can live with. Now, I go, knowing that the next generation will protect the earth just as we did.
We are the riders- We are the heroes.

Based off the work of Shotaro Ishinomori

Fleas

Adam Had 'em.

In an ancient pond
a frog jumps in--
the splash of water
-Matsuo Bashō

Here's 30 other translations including this incredibly concise one:
http://www.bopsecrets.org/gateway/passages/basho-frog.htm

pond
frog
plop!

Haikus are easy.
But sometimes they don't make sense--
Refrigerator.

Does a haiku count?
I don't know what else to post.
Writer's block, I guess.

There is a Reaper, whose name is Death,
And, with his sickle keen,
He reaps the bearded grain at a breath,
And the flowers that grow between.

"Shall I have naught that is fair?" Saith he;
"Having naught but the bearded grain?
Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me,
I will give them all back again,"

He gazed at the flowers with tearful eye,
He kissed their drooping leaves;
It was for the Lord of Paradise
He bound them in his sheaves.

"My Lord has need of these floweretsgay,"
The Reaper said, and smiled:
"Dear tokens of the earth are they,
Where he was once a child."

"They shall all bloom in fields of light,
Transplanted by my care,
And saints, upon their garments white,
These sacred blossoms wear."

And the mother gave, in tears and pain,
The flowers she most did love:
She knew she should find them all again
In the fields of light above.

O, not in cruelty, not in wrath,
The Reaper came that day;
'Twas an angel visited the green earth,
And took the flowers away.

Twice five plus seven
Syllables can't say much but
That's haiku for you…

Haiku's inventor
Must have had seven fingers
On his middle hand.

And so long as I'm repeating myself from a much older poetry thread…

The integral z-squared dz
From one to the cube root of three
Times the cosine
Of three pi over nine
Equals log of the cube root of e.

Haiku is not written with a 5-7-5 syllabary, as westerners often think. The 5-7-5 denotes the number of mora, or syllabic weight within a sentence. A word like "kurenu" has 3 syllables, but in Japanese where the "n" has its own stress as well, thus the word "ku-re-n-u" would be said with 4 syllabic stresses(mora), Even amongst traditional haiku poets though, most would break that pattern. In short, a syllable can contain multiple mora, a haiku doesn't need to closely follow a 5-7-5 mora pattern, and the Japanese stress syllables differently.

Just to share;
A year ago, one of my cousin's classmates wrote a failed jazz chant. It was along the lines of;
I like school.
It's so fun.
I like to
Get work done.
Fun, Fun, Fun,
Done, done, done.

^
Fun, fun, fun, fun,
Everybody's looking forward to the weekend…

SEVEN AM WAKIN' UP IN THE MORNIN' GOTTA BE FRESH GOTTA GO DOWNSTAIRS AUUUGGGGHHH BRUCKER!

OPEN THE DOOR
GET ON THE FLOOR
EVERYBODY WALK THE DINOSAUR!