tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024674289273898019.post6123841876100669919..comments2008-04-26T10:51:31.658-05:00Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05501322278779703113noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024674289273898019.post-82191114042731636512008-04-26T10:51:00.000-05:002008-04-26T10:51:00.000-05:00Well, Chris, knowing what it is that you like is truly what is important.<BR/><BR/>I used to write some of my own when I was in college, some many moons ago. I used to place my most recent poem in front of the hottest girl of the day. More often than not, I made a new friend.MrOrphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12069259633169478114noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024674289273898019.post-55737313772854174802008-04-26T10:16:00.000-05:002008-04-26T10:16:00.000-05:00No offense taken mrorph. I think for me, what makes a poem inspiring is that I can relate to it, make a connection with the author. I will capitulate that scholars find Shakespeare great and Langston influential, but I have a hard time connecting with both. I do like the Bard's plays though, so I am not a complete heretic.<BR/>But to reiterate, I don't know much about poetry, I just know what I like...<BR/>I don't like green peppers but I like Shuna's poem. <BR/><BR/>CheersChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05501322278779703113noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4024674289273898019.post-87065458386932587662008-04-26T03:06:00.000-05:002008-04-26T03:06:00.000-05:00Chris,<BR/><BR/>No offense, but that poem was um... something uninspiring. But hey, we all have our opinions. Personally, I am a fan of Dickinson, Whitman, and my most favorite, Hughes. Of course, you have to be inspired by "the Bard".<BR/><BR/>Is this one inspiring:<BR/><BR/>I play it cool <BR/>And dig all jive. <BR/>That’s the reason <BR/>I stay alive.<BR/><BR/>My motto, <BR/>As I live and learn, <BR/> is: <BR/>Dig And Be Dug <BR/>In Return.<BR/>-hughes<BR/><BR/>How about:<BR/><BR/>When my love swears that she is made of truth,<BR/>I do believe her, though I know she lies,<BR/>That she might think me some untutor’d youth,<BR/>Unskilful in the world’s false forgeries,<BR/>Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,<BR/>Although I know my years be past the best,<BR/>I smiling credit her false-speaking tongue,<BR/>Outfacing faults in love with love’s ill rest.<BR/>But wherefore says my love that she is young?<BR/>And wherefore say not I that I am old?<BR/>O, love’s best habit is a soothing tongue,<BR/>And age, in love, loves not to have years told.<BR/> Therefore, I’ll lie with love, and love with me,<BR/> Since that our faults in love thus smother’d be.<BR/>-the bardMrOrphhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12069259633169478114noreply@blogger.com