Take Your Poet To Work Day

Robert Frost

Robert Frost

“Some say the world will end in fire
Some say in ice,
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that, for destruction,
Ice is also great and would suffice”

                                          -Robert Frost

________________________________________

The above was typed from memory, so it might not be perfect; however, this is obviously Fire and Ice by Robert Frost, one of my favorite poets who, due to the occasion, is sitting on my desk (in the form of a printed picture). Why? Cause it’s take your poet to work day, folks. Even if you didn’t know it, print out a picture of your favorite prose master, and tape it to your desk for the day!

Anywho, in honor of it, I posted my favorite poem from Robert Frost above, and I highly recommend at least lookin up your favorite poem, and giving it a good read outloud. Hell, make up an excuse to belt out some lines at the water cooler. Anything to enjoy the spirit of the day 🙂

Feel free to post your poet of choice and your favorite poem below! I’d love to see what everyone’s poem of choice is!

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9 responses

  1. Ok, you asked for it:

    It was my thirtieth year to heaven
    Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood
    And the mussel pooled and the heron
    Priested shore
    The morning beckon
    With water praying and call of seagull and rook
    And the knock of sailing boats on the net webbed wall
    Myself to set foot
    That second
    In the still sleeping town and set forth.

    My birthday began with the water-
    Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name
    Above the farms and the white horses
    And I rose
    In rainy autumn
    And walked abroad in a shower of all my days.
    High tide and the heron dived when I took the road
    Over the border
    And the gates
    Of the town closed as the town awoke.

    A springful of larks in a rolling
    Cloud and the roadside bushes brimming with whistling
    Blackbirds and the sun of October
    Summery
    On the hill’s shoulder,
    Here were fond climates and sweet singers suddenly
    Come in the morning where I wandered and listened
    To the rain wringing
    Wind blow cold
    In the wood faraway under me.

    Pale rain over the dwindling harbour
    And over the sea wet church the size of a snail
    With its horns through mist and the castle
    Brown as owls
    But all the gardens
    Of spring and summer were blooming in the tall tales
    Beyond the border and under the lark full cloud.
    There could I marvel
    My birthday
    Away but the weather turned around.

    It turned away from the blithe country
    And down the other air and the blue altered sky
    Streamed again a wonder of summer
    With apples
    Pears and red currants
    And I saw in the turning so clearly a child’s
    Forgotten mornings when he walked with his mother
    Through the parables
    Of sun light
    And the legends of the green chapels

    And the twice told fields of infancy
    That his tears burned my cheeks and his heart moved in mine.
    These were the woods the river and sea
    Where a boy
    In the listening
    Summertime of the dead whispered the truth of his joy
    To the trees and the stones and the fish in the tide.
    And the mystery
    Sang alive
    Still in the water and singingbirds.

    And there could I marvel my birthday
    Away but the weather turned around. And the true
    Joy of the long dead child sang burning
    In the sun.
    It was my thirtieth
    Year to heaven stood there then in the summer noon
    Though the town below lay leaved with October blood.
    O may my heart’s truth
    Still be sung
    On this high hill in a year’s turning.

    -Dylan Marlais Thomas

  2. Frost is one of my favorites, too. I memorized that poem when I was in college. I recall the fifth line as: “but if it had to perish twice.”

    I also memorized Ogden Nash’s The Purist:

    I give you now Professor Twist,
    The conscientious scientist.
    Trustees exclaimed “He never bungles!”
    and sent him off to distant jungles.
    Camped on a tropic river side,
    one day he missed his loving bride.
    She had, the guide informed him later,
    been eaten by an alligator.
    Professor Twist could not but smile.
    “You mean,” he said, “a crocodile!”

    1. Thank you! And that is an awesome poem 🙂 Ty for posting it!

  3. Heart we will forget him
    You and I tonight
    You may forget the warmth he gave
    I will forget the light

    When you have done, pray tell me
    That I my thoughts may dim
    Haste! Lest while you’re lagging
    I may remember him!

    Emily Dickenson
    She’s one of my favorites along with bukowski

  4. i love the tempo of the poem ( as many poems do carry a certain kind of move to them) and the eloquence that Kilmer writes with.
    Joyce Kilmer. 1886–1918
    Trees
    I THINK that I shall never see
    A poem lovely as a tree.

    A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
    Against the sweet earth’s flowing breast;

    A tree that looks at God all day,
    And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

    A tree that may in summer wear
    A nest of robins in her hair;

    Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
    Who intimately lives with rain.

    Poems are made by fools like me,
    But only God can make a tree.

  5. You would think that Robert Frost would have preferred “ice”.

    Sent from my iPhone

  6. “Ice is also great and would suffice” funny that it comes from a poet named Frost…

  7. Choosing a fav’ poet is a difficult one. But for today I’ll go with Ogden Nash & to keep things short & sweet (just how I like them) & because my kids have just come home from school – I’ll plump for:

    The Parent
    Children aren’t happy with nothing to ignore,
    and that’s what parents were created for.

Speak, human, speak!

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