Favorite Poets

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.

~ American, 1819-1892

Because I could not stop for Death –
He kindly stopped for me –
The Carriage held but just Ourselves –
And Immortality.

~ American, 1830-1886

I’ve known rivers:
I’ve known rivers ancient as the world and older than the
flow of human blood in human veins.

My soul has grown deep like the rivers.

~ American, 1902-1967

I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells,
dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.

I want
to do with you what spring does with the cherry blossoms.

~ Chilean, 1904-1973

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

~ American, 1928-2014

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.

~ English, 1806-1861

Here, for as much as hearing could discover
There was no outcry louder than the sighs
Which caused the everlasting air to tremble.

~Italian, 1265-1321

She is so naked and singular.
She is the sum of yourself and your dream.
Climb her like a monument, step after step.
She is solid.

As for me, I am a watercolor.
I wash off.

~ American, 1928-1974

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

~ English, 1795-1821

May I write
Words more naked than flesh,
Stronger than bone, More resilient than sinew,
More sensitive than nerve.

~ Greek, ~630BCE-~570BCE

We look before and after,
and pine for what is not;
Our sincerest laughter
with some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those
that tell us the saddest thought.

~ English, 1792-1822

I shut my eyes and the world drops dead;
I life my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head).

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
and arbitrary blackness gallops in,
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

~ American, 1932-1963

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate.
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date.

~ English, 1564-1616

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

~ American, 1911-1979

Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier;
I have seen worse sights than this.

~ Greek, ~850BC

They eat beans mostly, this old yellow pair.
Dinner is a casual affair.
Plain chipware on a plain and creaking wood,
Tin flatware.

~ American, 1917-2000

One pot of wine amid the Flowers
Alone I pour, and none with me.
The cup I lift; the Moon invite;
Who with my shadow makes us three.

~ Chinese, 701-762

The rishis bathed in the river, shot with saffron shafts of the setting sun. Standing in velvet water, they said sandhya prayers.

~ Indian, ~5th Century BCE

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)

~American, 1894-1962

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
It gives a lovely light!

~American, 1892-1950

The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.

~English, 1608-1674