Do you enjoy poetry? Do you have a favorite poet?

As much as I like to read, I'll admit that I'm not too keen on poetry. There are some poets that I enjoy, like T. S. Eliot or Robert Frost or Yeats. But often poetry is so opaque that I find it difficult to relate to. Some poetry I can appreciate for the beauty of the language, while not necessarily grasping the meaning.

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I've written poetry here and there. Some are dark though. Favourite poet, I really don't have one, as saying which favourite I have, would assume I've read their works recently, which I haven't since high school much.

If I had to guess whom I enjoyed, would go to Edgar Allan Poe I suppose. Since I enjoy dark, but story-telling poetry. Written a few long-forms in that style.

I had a cousin who used to date Rod McKuen, I never thought much of his poetry though.

I do and have enjoyed some poetry, and not always of the most acclaimed ones.

I enjoy the poems of Max Ehrmann and some by Rod McKuen.

Desiderata - Poem by Max Ehrmann

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

I do enjoy poetry. I'm not sure if I have one single favorite, though I've mimicked the styles/techniques/form of many poets (and music artists). Maya Angelou is definitely on the list of favorites. I've used her "caged bird" metaphor (and yes, I know the original metaphor came from Paul Laurence Dunbar's poem) in so many writings. I wrote a poem styled after Poe's "Annabel Lee" and after Kenneth Koch's "Variations on a Theme by William Carlos Williams."

Also, many people that aren't poets in name, such as singers/music artists, have lyrics and certain styles that I'm attracted to. But I'm of the belief that song lyrics are just poetry with a beat and a twist.

@BlindMist I do enjoy poetry. I'm not sure if I have one single favorite, though I've mimicked the styles/techniques/form of...

While we're here, this is one of my newest pieces that I'm particularly happy with, though it's not entirely perfected.

Wonderland

He tells her sweet lies, whispers sweet nothings
He leads her into the rabbit hole
She finds herself imprisoned with men that see her as a toy
Red-eyed playboy rabbits
She loses herself
Attempts to find her Black Girl Magic
In a frenzy to escape a slave’s fate
She accepts abuse in the form of white chocolate cake
And the fertile rabbit fertilizes the egg inside her Black folds of skin
As she shrinks inside the Wonderland
She becomes distant
Takes a journey to Neptune to escape the reality of man invading in a land she wished were her own
She fails to conjure her Black Girl Magic
She is not a magical being, she decides
She is the worker mule of the world
She is not a Black Magic Queen
Man’s sweet cream attracted to her Black coffee skin
Causing her to screen herself behind a mask
She is the sexualized prey whose belly grows larger by the day
And the White rabbit abandons her
He made her dependent on creature comforts so she ends up in the clutches of the Cheshire Cat
He takes what he wills and completely disappears
And she realizes there is no magic to be found in Wonderland
No space for happiness
Still, she accepts the tea of the Mad Hatter
She tells herself she doesn’t care about how every man places her on a platter
Eats her pain for their enjoyment
She sucks it up because broken creatures find comfort in other broken creatures
She knows all is vanity as they leave her one by one
She stands by her lonesome when she encounters the Queen of Hearts
The Queen tells her, “The magic lies inside
Your smile lights up a room
Your hair under water is a flower that blooms in adversity and creates a horn of cornucopia
Your eyes hold the truth of the golden sun
Your DNA holds the secrets of the universe’s encyclopedia
With your nose, your lips, you conquer the beasts of the patriarchal Wonderland
You have the ability to tell your story through paper and pen and your poet’s voice within
And when you create, you bring into being the cure for man’s disease
Within your dark skin lies the womb of the pitch black universe
Do not retreat to Neptune nor follow White rabbits down a rabbit hole
They leave you in a false sense of wonder
The true wonder is the majesty of your Black Girl Magic
You are Original, Owner, creator of the brand new
The magic flows through your veins
Your pain prepares you for the universe’s blessing”
And when she hears those words said aloud in firm voice
She screams her truth
“I am Black
I am Proud
Today, I diverge from Wonderland
I am Black, I am Girl, I am Magic”
And she rises

No, I've never enjoyed poetry.

Big fan. Hard to pick a favorite.

I recently read "There Should be Flowers" by Joshua Jennifer Espinoza that contains some very powerful writing. Here's a link to two of her poems.
https://hyperallergic.com/39238...ifer-espinoza/

Classically I love Poe. Perhaps my all time classical favorite is "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner" by Coleridge with a big nod to "Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard" by Thomas Gray.

I really get a kick out of humor like Ogden Nash, Shel Silverstein, and 'Dr. Suess'.

Gothe - goes with saying; Omar Khayyam's Rubaiyat is a must read for any serious poet.

Just my thoughts.

Never got into poetry. As much as I love to read, I always looked at poetry as something a guy writes, or shows an interest in, in hopes of getting laid.

https://www.deviantart.com/tano...tone-357682055

Here's one from my writings, there's more on my gallery there. Including art i've gotten, done, etc.

The Whirlpool's Gemstone

I was told of a time and place
Where one can find riches beyond belief
I was told I must be calm in the face
As it is deep within the reef

The time is always at noon,
When the waters are unsettled.
The place is always shined on by the moon,
When the waters are settled.

I was told I must enter it by boat
Bracing myself to a mast
As I swirl around like a drunken goat
I find myself in a dark vast

Down the deepest, darkest trench I see
Is a gem brighter than any light I ever saw
Undiscovered by man, guarded by fierce nature it be
A shark is waiting to get intruders in its jaw

Do I approach the gem in hopes of the riches?
Do I approach the shark in hopes of getting his permission?
Do I reach a compromise and hold onto my britches,
As if I’d retreat in hopes of escaping the vortex’s transmission?

The gem as dark as an eclipsed sun
Shining a great dark purple it does
The pressures of the deep always never done
Will I live to get my prize before my head gets a buzz?

The swirl of the unsettled waters claimed
All those that have tried to enter
Shall I be the first to grab it with my heart aflame?
Be the one to make a gutsy venture?

I know it will only accept the chosen one
It absorbs those that do not meet its praise
Those that have been tried, never were the one
And ended up in a permanent daze

But as I get closer, it gets brighter
Seemingly the shark never made a move
It only stops those that were a blighter
The gem was as calm as a dove

The gem had seemingly accepted my presence
I was warmed and relieved by its glow
It wished to be apart my heavenly possessions
I touched it with my hand with movements slow

It reacted with my hand’s pressure
The shark had watched me with its godly gaze
I felt very warm and heart filled with pleasure
It let my take it as I venture back through the swirling maze

The pressure was too much to go back the way I came
The shark who had watched its master in the arms of the chosen possessor
Came closer and he was quite tame
I was motioned to follow him up out of the compressor

He was still quite calm with me
After all I had to be as calm as the waters I threw myself in
After a half of a peck I saw the calm surface of sea
He came around to my side and lifted me out by his fin

Told me to hold on to him with his body’s spoken language
I did so as I was told and was carried back to shore
With the gem in hand held like a magnet
A peck later of time, on his back, we came ashore

Sitting on a land filled of sand
I watched him thank me for my apparent pureness
I held the gem, around me it was lighting the sand
The shark had left back to its post with assuredness

I went on the long trip home with the gem guarded with my life
I felt the warmest pleasure in my heart as I held it
All the way back to my home as nice as my afterlife
I put the gem somewhere safe so it can only be viewed in a slit

I went to bed that night with good dreams
Knowing that I had done good that day
And always guarded by the gem’s light streams…
The wall painted with my shadow’s grey

I bid all of you good night
With my soul in a sleep flight…

If I had to pick a single poem for sheer artistic brilliance, I would probably choose "Ozymandias" by Shelley.
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