anything from the prophet kahil gibran
“your children”
YOUR CHILDREN ARE NOT YOUR CHILDREN…
THEY COME THROUGH YOU,
BUT NOT FROM YOU.
AND THOUGH THEY ARE WITH YOU
YET THEY BELONG NOT TO YOU.
YOU MAY GIVE THEM YOUR LOVE.
BUT NOT YOUR THOUGHTS.
FOR THEY HAVE THEIR OWN THOUGHTS.
YOU MAY HOUSE THEIR BODIES.
BUT NOT THEIR SOULS.
FOR THEIR SOULS DWELL IN THE HOUSE OF
TOMORROW WHICH YOU CAN NOT VISIT,
NOT EVEN IN YOUR DREAMS.
I would suggest many of the poems by Marianne Moore (American poet of Brooklyn, NY). They have a highly visual and exotic descriptive structure. You can easily find her works in ‘The Collected Poems of Marianne Moore’ published by Penguin. Some particularly good examples for recitation would be:
“The Steeplejack”
“Camilia Sabina”
“Virginia Britainia”
“In the days of Prismatic Color”
“Nine Nectarines”
Her work, written primarily between the 1930’s – ’50’s, is amazingly exacting in its descriptions of the natural world, and depends more on the power of the senses than in more traditional poetic forms. I think your audience would be dazzled by her words.
STILL I RISE
MAYA ANGELOU
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.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame – I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain – I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear – I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear – I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
October 30th, 2009 at 4:19 am
Check out these famous, amazing poets:
W.B. Yeats
E.E. Cummings
Elizebeth Barret Browning.
Don’t forget Shakespeare’s Sonnets. They’re short and sweet.
Hmm, I also love Shel Silverstein even though he wrote a lot of children’s poetry. They were funny and intelligent.
October 31st, 2009 at 7:11 am
anything from the prophet kahil gibran
“your children”
YOUR CHILDREN ARE NOT YOUR CHILDREN…
THEY COME THROUGH YOU,
BUT NOT FROM YOU.
AND THOUGH THEY ARE WITH YOU
YET THEY BELONG NOT TO YOU.
YOU MAY GIVE THEM YOUR LOVE.
BUT NOT YOUR THOUGHTS.
FOR THEY HAVE THEIR OWN THOUGHTS.
YOU MAY HOUSE THEIR BODIES.
BUT NOT THEIR SOULS.
FOR THEIR SOULS DWELL IN THE HOUSE OF
TOMORROW WHICH YOU CAN NOT VISIT,
NOT EVEN IN YOUR DREAMS.
November 2nd, 2009 at 8:15 am
I’ll list my three favorite poems:
“True Love” by Judith Viorst
“Love twenty cents the first quarter mile: by Kenneth Fearing
“The love song of J. Alfred Prufrock” by T.S. Elliot
November 5th, 2009 at 7:50 pm
“if u dont suceeded at first try again”
November 9th, 2009 at 2:26 am
I would suggest many of the poems by Marianne Moore (American poet of Brooklyn, NY). They have a highly visual and exotic descriptive structure. You can easily find her works in ‘The Collected Poems of Marianne Moore’ published by Penguin. Some particularly good examples for recitation would be:
“The Steeplejack”
“Camilia Sabina”
“Virginia Britainia”
“In the days of Prismatic Color”
“Nine Nectarines”
Her work, written primarily between the 1930’s – ’50’s, is amazingly exacting in its descriptions of the natural world, and depends more on the power of the senses than in more traditional poetic forms. I think your audience would be dazzled by her words.
November 12th, 2009 at 9:21 am
The Shooting of Dan McGrew by Robert Service
November 14th, 2009 at 12:07 am
oh man, so many so many… what type are you after?
my favourites…
” do not go gently in to that good night ” by dylan thomas
and then again anything from pablo neruda…especially “tonight I can write the saddest lines” which you can crop to fit into 3 mins.
November 15th, 2009 at 4:09 pm
Do Not go Gently Into The Night
November 17th, 2009 at 6:39 am
STILL I RISE
MAYA ANGELOU
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.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame – I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain – I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear – I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear – I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
November 20th, 2009 at 6:23 am
anything by Edna St. Vincent Millay
The Lady of Shalott by Alfred Lord Tennyson