Authors Anonymous discussion

Yay, I love poems! My favorite are below!

Forever Free- Author, Unknown
Of all the things I've ever seen,
Of all the dreams I've ever dreamed,
The finest sight that's come to me,
White horses wild beside the sea
They ran across the trackless sand
In that remote, forgotten land,
And in their running they were free
Beside the boundless, unchained sea.

They raced the first light of the day
And surged across a shallow bay
To feed at ease in grassy plains
With wind alone to groom their manes.

No barn or stable was their home.
No one could govern where they roamed.
They galloped on the fenceless tracts
With no ones burden on their backs.

And each swift horse was nature's child
At home on land forever wild,
And each wild horse was meant to be
At home on land forever free.

I LOVE Robert Frost's Poetry! I think he's the best poetry writer in the whole world!

The Road Not Taken- Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

William Blake is also an awesome poem author!!!!!!

Tyger - William Blake

Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare sieze the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art.
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

i like Emily Dickinson the best!

i am nobody, who are you?
are you, nobody too?
then there's a pair of us!
- don't tell- they'd banish us you know!

how dreary to be somebody,
how public-like a frog!
to say your name the livelong day, to an admiring bog.

~Emily Dickinson~

Great poem my English teacher read to us today. I really enjoyed it!

Asylum for the Verbally Insane
By Kwee Lain

We’ll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never be meese.

You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice,
Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.
If the plural of man is always called men,
Why shouldn’t the plural of pan be called pen?

If I speak of my foot and show you my feet,
And I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn’t the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and three would be those,
Yet hat in the plural would never be hose,
And the plural of cat is cats, not cose.

We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
But though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine: she, shis and shim!

Let’s face it – English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger;
Neither apple nor pine in pineapple.

English muffins weren’t invented in England.
We take English for granted, but if we explore its paradoxes,
We find that quicksand can work slowly,

Boxing rings are square, and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing,
Grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham?

Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend.
If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all
But one of them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught?
Sometimes I think all the folks who grew up speaking English
Should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.

In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?
We ship by truck but send cargo by ship.
We have noses that run and feet that smell.
We park in a driveway and drive in a parkway.

And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same,
While a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language
In which your house can burn up as it burns down,
In which you fill in a form by filling it out,
And in which an alarm goes off by going on.
And, in closing, if Father is Pop,
How come Mother’s not Mop?

that is AMAZING.

I agree totally.

I know! I always complain how the depot part of Home Depot should sound like how it actually is, haha.

lol, that's cos it came from another language silly! :) maybe French.

Well a lot of the words in English came from French, but still, I disagree with English.

moi aussi

I have no idea what that means except moi means I... I think.

Moi aussi means me too in French :)

Not Waving but Drowning

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you though
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

- Stevie Smith (female, Great Britain)

So now i know!
That poem is awesome! For a second there I thought you wrote it and I was like Jeez that's amazing!!