fuck yeah poets

Syllogism: Poets are mad. I am mad. Therefore, I am a poet.

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Rupert Brooke

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Rupert Brooke

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Delmira Agustini

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Ai (formerly Florence Anthony)

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Ai (formerly Florence Anthony)

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Richard Aldington

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Richard Aldington

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Jabberwocky

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe. "Beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch! Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun The frumious Bandersnatch!" He took his vorpal sword in hand: Long time the manxome foe he sought-- So rested he by the Tumtum tree, And stood awhile in thought. And as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And burbled as it came! One, two! One, two! and through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack! He left it dead, and with its head He went galumphing back. "And hast thou slain the Jabberwock? Come to my arms, my beamish boy! O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!" He chortled in his joy. 'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves Did gyre and gimble in the wabe; All mimsy were the borogoves, And the mome raths outgrabe.

Lewis Carroll

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Sea-Side Snobs - W. S. Gilbert Fun, IV - 9th November 1867

Extended on the Margate shore (A lazy fit had bound me), I fell a-moralizing o'er   The snobs I saw around me.

They buy unholy suits of clothes,  And every day they don them, Their speech is crapulous with oaths.   But still the sun shines on them'.

They bawl and holloa, scream and shout,   Some source of joy they find it — And though they leave their "h's" out   The sea don't seem to mind it!

They spit, and smoke tobacco rank.,   And live incontinently, And though they look as if they drank —   The sea air fans them gently!

The words with which themselves they pledge   Cause decent ears to tingle; But though it sets one's teeth on edge,   It don't offend the shingle!

Their showy clothes are slopped with mire,   Their paws with filth encrusted — I wonder Nature don't retire   From public life disgusted.

The sun shines on, the breezes blow,   When shops and counters free them — The waves dance gaily to and fro,  And seem quite glad to see them!

Oh, sun and breeze and dancing trees, In one commingling blended, You are not difficult to please —  Not easily offended.

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Vachel Lindsay

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Adrienne Rich

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Sylvia Plath

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Sylvia Plath

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Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes

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Sylvia!

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Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes

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I hate to bore you, but I fucking LOVE Sylvia Plath so much! So clever, so complex, so thoughtful, so real. I have a little collection of her poetry on my bookshelf in my room, which I absolutely adore, so much so that it can only be comprehended with expletives, so excuse me while I—

Sylvia! You are my fucking hero!

—there.