There are always so many favourite book and song threads, how about poems? Mine is ee cummings' Anyone lived in a pretty how town anyone lived in a pretty how town (with up so floating many bells down) spring summer autumn winter he sang his didn't he danced his did Women and men (both little and small) cared for anyone not at all they sowed their isn't they reaped their same sun moon stars rain children guessed (but only a few and down they forgot as up they grew autumn winter spring summer) that noone loved him more by more when by now and tree by leaf she laughed his joy she cried his grief bird by snow and stir by still anyone's any was all to her someones married their everyones laughed their cryings and did their dance (sleep wake hope and then)they said their nevers they slept their dream stars rain sun moon (and only the snow can begin to explain how children and apt to forget to remember with up so floating many bells down) one day anyone died i guess (and noone stooped to kiss his face) busy folk buried them side by side little by little and was by was all by all and deep by deep and more by more they dream their sleep noone and anyone earth by april wish by spirit and if by yes. Women and men(both dong and ding) summer autumn winter spring reaped their sowing and went their came sun moon stars rain
I was going to say this. "The Raven" always fascinated me, ever since I was little. I'm just going to leave this here for anybody who haven't read "The Raven" or if they just haven't heard it read by Christopher motherfucking Lee.
"Alone", also by Mr. Poe From childhood’s hour I have not been As others were—I have not seen As others saw—I could not bring My passions from a common spring— From the same source I have not taken My sorrow—I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone— And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone— Then—in my childhood—in the dawn Of a most stormy life—was drawn From ev’ry depth of good and ill The mystery which binds me still— From the torrent, or the fountain— From the red cliff of the mountain— From the sun that ’round me roll’d In its autumn tint of gold— From the lightning in the sky As it pass’d me flying by— From the thunder, and the storm— And the cloud that took the form (When the rest of Heaven was blue) Of a demon in my view—
For whatever reason I like obscure artists. I really like this guy Bennet Sarkis. I stumbled upon some of his poems on a random poetry website and they're surprisingly not half-bad. My favorite by him is: "Put Your Hand On My Heart" I put your hand on my Heart, When I was too afraid to speak the words. So I let you feel my heart beating instead, Show you how it raced when you were there. I put your hand on my Heart, When you laid down in the grass beside me, Looked up at the stars with me, And asked me if I loved you. I put your hand on my Heart, When you held me in your arms that first night. You asked me if you and I could make we, So I showed you how my heart already beat for you. I put your hand on my Heart, In place of the vows I could have said. Because every feeling and emotion I needed to tell you Was answered by the rise and fall of my chest. I put your hand on my Heart, When we held that little girl in our arms, I smiled as for the first time You put my hand on yours. I put your hand on my Heart Everytime you asked if we were going to make it, Reminded you of the promise I made to you With every fiber of my being. I put your hand on my Heart When you asked me if I was going to make it. I just smiled, and held your hand in mine As my life-force flowed ebbingly on. I put your hand on my Heart, Perhaps even without you knowing it. Willed you to press your fingertips to my breast, One final time before they sealed my coffin shut.