Poetry Readers Challenge discussion

This folder is for your pet poems by other poets, including poets whose books you've reviewed or want to review. Any poems that strike you, excepting your own ...

Just a reminder that ANYONE (a member, of course) can post a poem here. I'd rather the poem than the link, if possible.

Once again for 2012, anyone who'd like to post a poem to share or discuss here may do so. The poem can be from a book you've just reviewed or are currently reading, for example.
This folder, however, is not a workshop or a place to display your own poems - just fyi.
Cheers

I decided to move this up for easier viewing. I think it gets forgotten about.

Once again I'm moving this up for 2017. I may end up reading more individual poems this coming year than whole volumes and will post my impressions of the poems in this area, whether weeping because they are wonderful or weeping because they are awful--or perhaps merely snoozing through some.

Also, anyone who had a favorite poem, as opposed to poetry book, this year, feel free to post in this discussion area.

So far this year, I have been doing dismally with my planned poetry reading. But at the moment I have started a volume of Stephen Vincent Benét's early work, titled Young Adventure. The following poem made me wonder about how little he seemed to feel about people, but also made me smile at the idea of a grown man allowing himself to stomp in puddles. That is really fun to do no matter how old a person is, but usually no one will admit to either doing or enjoying it. ;-))

Rain After A Vaudeville Show

The last pose flickered, failed. The screen's dead white
Glared in a sudden flooding of harsh light
Stabbing the eyes; and as I stumbled out
The curtain rose. A fat girl with a pout
And legs like hams, began to sing "His Mother".
Gusts of bad air rose in a choking smother;
Smoke, the wet steam of clothes, the stench of plush,
Powder, cheap perfume, mingled in a rush.
I stepped into the lobby — and stood still
Struck dumb by sudden beauty, body and will.
Cleanness and rapture — excellence made plain —
The storming, thrashing arrows of the rain!
Pouring and dripping on the roofs and rods,
Smelling of woods and hills and fresh-turned sods,
Black on the sidewalks, gray in the far sky,
Crashing on thirsty panes, on gutters dry,
Hurrying the crowd to shelter, making fair
The streets, the houses, and the heat-soaked air, —
Merciful, holy, charging, sweeping, flashing,
It smote the soul with a most iron clashing!...
Like dragons' eyes the street-lamps suddenly gleamed,
Yellow and round and dim-low globes of flame.
And, scarce-perceived, the clouds' tall banners streamed.
Out of the petty wars, the daily shame,
Beauty strove suddenly, and rose, and flowered....
I gripped my coat and plunged where awnings lowered.
Made one with hissing blackness, caught, embraced,
By splendor and by striving and swift haste —
Spring coming in with thunderings and strife —
I stamped the ground in the strong joy of life!

For some reason, this has reminded me of "Twas the Night Before Christmas."

Jen wrote: "I decided to move this up for easier viewing. I think it gets forgotten about."

Good idea. I either didn't notice it before or forgot it.