Here are favorite poems from around the world and through the ages, once more gathered together in their now familiar role as Poems on the Underground. Poetry of the greatest eloquence - by Shakespeare, Shelley, Seamus Heaney and Maya Angelou, and many more - journeys comfortably alongside comic verse and nursery rhymes. This new edition records the continuing success of an original and exciting idea born in London in 1986. In eleven years nearly two hundred poems have made their Underground journey into a public place, and brought daily pleasure to travelers and commuters on the way. Similar programs have put poetry on trains in a dozen other major cities from San Francisco to Shanghai, and in London poems have started to surface on buses, too.
Hace casi 2 años encontré este libro en Colchie, trato de acordarme dónde exactamente pero no recuerdo. Hacia frío, mucho viento, cada día el sol se iba 2 minutos antes. Escuché por primera vez Nothing New de Taylor Swift ft Phoebe Bridgers y era como si me la hubiera escrito a mí. Definitivamente había algo en el aire que se sentía muy All Too Well 10 min version, muy “I was a cage in search of a bird”. Algo bloqueaba mi mente y cuerpo.
Anyhow, poquitos días después que lo empecé a leer encontré uno de los poemas en el Underground en Londres y me dio un significado. Iba por ahí buscando los poemas, me emocionaba, me ponía triste si me tocaba un metro sin poema. Iba por ahí leyéndolos una y otra vez porq mi cerebro tarda mucho en pensar y procesar. Yo sabía que me estaban diciendo algo, aunque no les entendía, los sentía. Recuerdo que le daba muchas vueltas al poema de Delay de Elizabeth Jennings, pensaba mucho en “Love that loves now may not reach me until Its first desire is spent. The star’s impulse Must wait for eyes to claim it beautiful And love arrived may find us somewhere else”. Esperaba que algún día pudiera tener buen timing y alcanzarlo.
Este libro me acompañó por mucho tiempo. Me dió significado y pertenencia. Llegó en un momento en mi vida en el que estaba aprendiendo sobre la colectividad y sobre saber pedir ayuda. Esta colección de poemas eran leídos todos los días por miles de personas, que iban ensimismadas viviendo sus vidas, al trabajo, a su casa, a una fiesta, a una date, con su familia, al super, todos viviendo algo diferente pero conectados durante minutos de traslado, conectados por sentimientos escritos en las paredes del tren, que aunque tuvieran 100 años de diferencia compartían la misma experiencia humana. Esto me hacia sentir como pieza de un rompecabezas sin armar, sola pero con un propósito de ser parte de algo lindo, de encontrar las piezas con las que estaba destinada a encajar, sin miedo, sin cambiarme, viendo la imagen completa de una humanidad.
Hay algo en la poesía que justamente se siente sola y acompañada. Me permite descubrir y explorar con sentimientos y pensamientos muy profundos que de otra manera permanecen ocultos, los puedo tocar. Estos días que volví a agarrar este libro, me trajo muchos memories y nostalgia, pero también me trajo muchas ganas de volver a creer e intentar a alcanzar el amor que siempre fue bonito, solo que había olvidado.
Recomendaría este libro a todos. Recomiendo mucho que se lea en voz alta, hay algunos que encuentras en Youtube, me encantaría que existiera como audiolibro. Le leería estos poemas a mis amigas, a mis papás, a mis abuelitas, a mi bisabuelita y a mi abuelito, sé que los apreciarían tanto como yo.
First of all, I've never ever written nor read many poems. I was not fortunate enough to receive a good education throughout my childhood, but I made it to uni eventually. I met someone here who recommended me this book as great way to get into literature. I saw the book and didn't think it was one of those stuck-up books.
Well... I was reading through the pages in the car, and I started reading Sonnet 29 by billy you-know-who, and something about the sonnet astonished. I wasn't sure what exactly, but it just looked beautiful, I didn't understand it entirely but got the gist of it. Then I went online and I realised that the sonnet had a specific structure that made it so elegant.
I bought this book over twenty years ago when I was living in London. During the time I was there I started and stopped my career in physics, lost my way in art and lost my girlfriend. Samuel Johnson said: "when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life." Well, I was tired of life but not tired of London. Part of that had to be from riding the tube and seeing these poems sandwiched between ads. They really uplifted me and put me in another place for the small amount of time spent reading and reflecting on them.
Because of the memories of what happened in London, I couldn't bring myself to read the book in all the time since then, I wanted to be past it all. However, the last lines of the last poem of the book crystallized how I felt after reading the book and thinking how far I have come from that sad person sitting in the tube, musing on a poem. It is from "Something" by Sheenagh Pugh:
The sun will sometimes melt a field of sorrow that seemed hard frozen: may it happen for you.
I picked this up at a library clearance sale. I admire public projects like this that slip literature into everyday life, and one of the charms of this collection is the poems have to be reasonably brief to fit onto the placards on the London Tube. Still, some of the poems are really tired. For example, if I EVER have to read the WC Williams poem about those plums again I might scream. Blake’s “Sick Rose” is also here, as is his “Tyger,” along with “Ozymandias,” Donne’s “Holy Sonnet,” and some other perennials. For that reason, this isn’t really a book for the hardcore poetry fan who’s going to know (and possibly already have at hand) most of these, as worthwhile as they are. My favorites were the surprises I’d never read before, like Derek Walcott’s “Midsummer, Tobago,” and the funny portrait “Sergeant Brown’s Parrot,” which surely was written for children.
Here’s the shortest poem in the book, and I imagine I’d enjoy reading it on my morning commute:
Dreams
Here we are all, by day; by night we’re hurled By dreams, each one, into a several world.
And outstanding anthology of World poetry, with a most peculiar bend towards English verse, all of which hanged on the walls and wagons of the english subway system. Not for the weak of heart, since this book has kept the notes to the strictest minimum.
Remarkable work by some of the most remarkable poets all around the Globe.
3.5 A nice collection of choices from multiple centuries. As someone unfamiliar with poetry I've now got a long list of poets to read more of. My favourite was "Dolor" by Theodore Roethke
I have known the inexorable sadness of pencils, Neat in their boxes, dolor of pad and paper weight, All the misery of manilla folders and mucilage, Desolation in immaculate public places, Lonely reception room, lavatory, switchboard, The unalterable pathos of basin and pitcher, Ritual of multigraph, paper-clip, comma, Endless duplicaton of lives and objects. And I have seen dust from the walls of institutions, Finer than flour, alive, more dangerous than silica, Sift, almost invisible, through long afternoons of tedium, Dropping a fine film on nails and delicate eyebrows, Glazing the pale hair, the duplicate grey standard faces.
A paperback version, probably picked up sometime in the first five years of this century, having read a particularly pertinent poem while travelling on the Underground (which I now can't remember, and was not included in this book).
A mixture as fascinating as the notes which follow at the end, revisiting old favourites, discovering new. And I've no idea if the excellent practice continues. I hope so.
I initially started seeing these on the tube in London a couple of years ago and I loved just seeing a totally different poem each day. As I was usually on the tube for at least 20 minutes, I had time to really consider each poem and so although I have now got the book, I prefer seeing them on the tube because I find myself thinking more deeply about each poem. However, it is very convenient to have them all together in one place.
Super hardback edition I found in an Oxfam bookshop whilst in England over Xmas and I've been dipping into this every few days to read a few poems. I remember reading some of these on tube trains back in the late 90s, such a simple but brilliant idea. Too many ye olde ode to my mistress selections for my taste if I had to find one fault.
I like to have a book of poetry as a companion read. Something to dip into and read one or two a day. That means it takes me some time to read a compendium like this. These are all poems that have been displayed on posters on the London Underground, some more familiar than others all worth reading.
Livro de poemas, onde algumas poemas chamam mais a atenção do que outros (como é de praxe com esse estilo). O que mais gostei é que no final algumas explicações são dadas sobre alguns dos poemas contidos no livro.
a nice collection- i love tfl and poetry so was i ever not going to enjoy it some of my favs: her anxiety immigrant come. and be my baby ich am of irlonde
I was given this to read, to get more in touch with poetry. I had loads of fun reading it: I just dipped in and out, reading poems. There was a huge variety, from Shakespeare to Ted Hughes to William Blake to Maya Angelou. My favourite though had to be W. H. Auden's Song, which I remember from Four Weddings and a Funeral. In case you don't know it, this is the poem:
"Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone, Prevent the dog for, barking with a juicy bone, Silence the pianos and with muffled drum Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead, Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves, Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood; For nothing now can ever come to any good."
I honestly can't read this poem without choking up. It's so beautiful and sad. Not all of the poems are about death though, so don't worry. The poems will make you laugh and smile and think. They're about love, death, life, everything you can think of really. Just an all-round amazing set of poems: really well rounded. Definitely recommended.
If you’ve spent any time in London then you probably already know about the project that this book was born from. As you travel around on the tube, you see a number of different posters that contain poems on them, from old classics to contemporary pieces by unknown or up-and-coming poets.
This book, then, collects some of the best pieces that were featured over the years, and whilst the book itself is a little bit outdated, the kind of poetry that it features is the kind of stuff that never ages.
In fact, I’d go so far as to say that this collection is culturally significant, more so than most anthologies that you’ll find on the market. And then there’s the fact that the poems here span all sorts of subjects and genres, as well as several hundred years of work. I loved it.
In some ways, it was like being back at school, because the book introduces you to the work of a whole heap of notable poets – like Shakespeare, Shelley, Seamus Heaney and Maya Angelou – that you might not come across otherwise. But it doesn’t have the residual boredom of a lesson that you don’t want to be in, and the fact that each of the poems are short means that it’s easy to pick it up, read a couple and put it back down.
I even earmarked a couple of the poems for me to memorise, so it must be good.
Poems on the Underground is a collection of the poems featured on billboards with trains on London's Underground [subway] system. It began about 10 years ago when a group of writers decided to pool money to buy advertising space on a train to help increase the accessibility of poetry for the "common (wo)man" so to speak. Over those ten years it has become a major project, with poems rotating frequently, and it is jointly funded by the Mayor of London.
This 10th anniversary anthology pools some of the most interesting poems that have been featured. Poetry within this collection spans forms, eras, literary movements, and borders. It includes a number of poems in foreign languages (with translation), and it helps expose readers to mostly well-known poets, with the inclusion of others who are a bit less popularly known in the West.
While the anthology is novel, there are many poets who will never find themselves featured on the Underground, particularly those called "political poets" in the U.S. It is a bit disheartening to see the lack of (within country ethnic) diversity included on the walls, but this project is still young, and there's still plenty of time.
I was aware of poems appearing on London's tube but it's only recently that I discovered that a book was published. Compiling a lot of different poems in one book is an excellent idea as it brings contents for everyone. Some people will like poems from the XV or XVI Century while others will prefer recent ones. I have made some great discoveries which I will enjoy reading again and again.
I absolutely love this. I bought it because I often read the poems on the tube, and they definitely brighten days. As an anthology, it's wonderful to have such a variety of beautifully written, thought provoking and often uplifting poems in one place. Recommend it to anyone.
This is such a lovely project and I enjoyed the book (which has a fine cover and small selection of illustrations too) Some old friends and some new. and some did nothing for me. I particularly enjoyed the very brief notes at the back.
I love it.when I travel.by tubes and get.the chance to.read.the poems written... I am a big.fan of.poetry.and.the poems make.me.journey.easier.so when I saw.this book I was delighted...great.idea.. good.tube and train journey.read and gives you a chance.to aee how.much talent there is in the world.