Name some poets, if any, whose work you like.

Pablo Neruda, e. e. cummings, Billy Collins. I'm not a huge poetry fan, to be honest, but don't tell my mom--she's a poet! I think her poems are very good, though.

hhhmmm, poetry........... i'm not a big poetry fan.

Edgar Alan Poe! All the way! Poe!

The Bells, The Raven, Anabell Lee...Just awesome.

His stories are great also.

I can't get with poetry too often. I'll always have a soft spot for Alice Walker though.

I hate poetry so I would not be able to name anyone.

William Shakespeare, John Ciardi, Sara Teasdale, Mary Oliver, Rainer Maria Rilke, Kahlil Gibran,

Robert Frost
Emily Dickinso
Edgar A Guest
Christina G Rosetti
Dorothy Parker
Rita Dove
Dr Seuss

Kahil Gibran
Robert Frost
Edger Allen Pole
William Shakespeare, I like to hear my uncle quote Shakespeare, hes as good as Ritchard Burton.
Dr Seuss, My favorite is Green Eggs and Ham.

I have none... I just like Khalil Gibran's The Prophet but I'm not sure that it's considered poetry. I don't like poetry - it's too flowery for me.

hmmm.... poets...
William Cullen Bryant
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
e e cummings
Robert Frost
Maya Angelou
Jerry Reed

Edgar Allan Poe--and I say that simply because he was a hometown boy.

I respect the work of Wadsworth Longfellow.
I like what Rod McKuen did, and I'm curious if anyone here likes his stuff.

Poe and Shelley are my personal favorites.

Don't like or understand poetry. It's too abstract for me. If I was to stretch it to rock artists' lyrics, I'd say Bob Dylan; maybe Jim Morrison; maybe Eminem. But regular poets, nope -- never could get into any of that stuff.

I'm not a poetry fan, but I do remember enjoying Ted Hughes' poetry at school.

I'm not a big fan of poetry. Unless you count old poetry. I like the Odyssey, but that's not a poem it's a song. Dante's the divine comedy is a poem, and I loved that. I also love Dr. Seuss. Very intelligent, my favorites are The Butter Battle and Oh the Places You'll Go.

I like Poe's Annabel Lee, The Raven, and The Telltale Heart...

I usually don't like poetry though.

I'm not into poetry, but Phillip Larkin is ok.

Yeats is my absolute favourite, but I also like Earl of Rochester, William Blake, Sappho, Ovid (just the beginning of Metamorphoses makes it all worth it... in nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas corpora; di, coeptis (nam vos mutastis et illas) adspirate meis primaque ab origine mundi ad mea perpetuum deducite tempora carmen!), Chaucer, Donne, and Percy Shelly Bysshe.

Adrienne Rich!

Not all poetry is flowery. Some is really honest and raw. I didn't discover good poetry unitl college. I hated the crap they had us read in high school, too formal.

Scott Jamerson and Colin Brown

EA Poe
true haikus

I typically don't read other's poetry, I'd much rather write my own

Which home town? I know he lived in Baltimore and Philadelphia, I visited one of his homes in downtown Philly, VERY weird, 1 room wide, 3 rooms deep, and 3 stories high, was the original structure.

I think he was born in my hometown of Charlottesville, VA--at least, there's a statue of him on the University of Virginia campus. And I think I've read somewhere that he was born in Charlottesville. You can Google him up and see if that's actually his hometown and let me know if you wish.

Are you talking about the Jerry Reed (Guitar Man/Cledus Snow/Snowman/"When you're hot, you're hot")?

why yes I am!
My favorite is Today is Mine:

When the sun came up this morning I took the time to watch it rise.
As its beauty struck the darkness from the skies.
I thought how small and unimportant all my troubles seem to be,
and how lucky another day belongs to me.
And as the sleepy world around me woke up to greet the day,
and all its silent beauty seemed to say:
So what, my friend, if all your dreams you haven't realized.
Look around, you got a whole new day to try.
Today is mine, today is mine, to do with what I will.
Today is mine. My own special cup to fill.
To die a little that I might learn to live.
And take from life that I might learn to give.
Today is mine.
With all men I curse the present that seems void of peace of mind,
and race my thoughts beyond tomorrow and vision there more peace of mind.
But when I view the day around me I can see the fool I've been.
For today is the only garden we can tend.
Today is mine, today is mine, to do with what I will.
Today is mine. My own special cup to fill.
To die a little that I might learn to live.
And take from life that I might learn to give.
Today is mine.

I remember that one, too. It was used as the theme song for the fishing show Bill Dance Outdoors.

Another good one he wrote was "A Thing Called Love", which was recorded by Johnny Cash and by Elvis on his He Touched Me album.

you lazy bum

Actually all sources are pointing towards Boston, he attended the University of Virginia.

yes, it was.... I used to watch it every saturday morning with my Dad. He's a big fisherman. I remember hearing that song in my head jillions of times as I saw the sun come up over the water...watching the mist roll away. Feels like I know exactly what he meant... lol. You know he and Bill Dance have been good friends for a long time too....
Yeah - he's written some incredibly gorgeous lyrics, and some people don't know it but Jerry was discovered and studied directly under Chet Atkins himself, and performed with him as a duet in Nashville before recording albums on his own. He is heavily influenced by him, despite his own unique finger-picking style. I don't really like country music - but Jerry Reed is in a class all by himself as far as I'm concerned. His talent is amazing.

Yeah, Chet discovered virtually everyone who recorded for RCA. He was the producer on a lot of country stars' RCA albums.

Yeah, I knew he had some type of connection with UVA and Charlottesville.

And yes, I'll admit, I do get a little lazy at times.

yeah - he was truly an awe....the einstein of guitar

What can you recommend to enlighten me?

> I typically don't read other's poetry, I'd much
> rather write my own

Show me some.

Try Jewel's poetry or Leonard Cohen's poetry. That's the best advice I, an English Minor, can give you. If you don't like them, tell me, I'll find you someone you'll like.

I'll count on it! Not too long k? Just in case I don't like it!

Adrienne Rich
Justin Chin

to name a few

Leonard Cohen:
http://members.tripod.com/%7ERaincloud771/poetry/c...
http://members.tripod.com/%7ERaincloud771/poetry/c...
http://members.tripod.com/%7ERaincloud771/poetry/c...
http://members.tripod.com/%7ERaincloud771/poetry/c...
http://members.tripod.com/%7ERaincloud771/poetry/c...

Jewel:
http://www.foolishgames.com/jewel/poetry/nightwith...

They're all short, your majesty.

Actually it's on my computer of which the hard drive has been scrubbed. The lastest few have been traditional haikus...go figure.

Byron

I dunno... It all sounds like song lyrics to me...

I have much imagination and I love to read but somehow poetry requires too much imagery between each line to follow the thought.
All of those sounded like so many "bedroom poets", wiling the time away and writing out of loneliness and/or a broken heart.

Got anything with a little more "meat"?

> Adrienne Rich
> Justin Chin
>
> to name a few


OK... I tried. What the hell does this mean?

"Orion plunges like a drunken hunter
over the Mohawk Trail a parallelogram
slashed with two cuts of steel"

What's it got to do with Emily Dickinson's house?

Taken from "This is my third and last address to you"
http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/m_r/rich/on...

I just read some Justin Chin. I guess I just don't get it...

"Surrealist Bookmark", "Apocryphal Medicine"? Seems to me that I have a lot more important things to do and read.
http://www.frigatezine.com/bio/biojchin.html

Somehow I imagine good poetry to be something from the past or has poetry always been but someone's muse?

The more I read poetry, the more it resembles the "artsy-fartsy" part of the artists' world. One lucky strike of a brush and a balanced, eye pleasing harmony of colours is created. This type of artist didn't plan the painting, it just happened yet admirers will stand and coo, patting them on the back. Modern art is too often an escape for untalented people who can't really draw just like poetry is too often the escape for people who can't really write.

Good modern art is out there just as surely as good poetry is. One must sift through all the garbage in order to find it though...

Can I read one of those?

Well, I recomend Yeats to everyone, because he's my absolutely favourite poet, but I don't know if you'd like him. http://www.online-literature.com/yeats/818/ and http://www.online-literature.com/yeats/816/
However, Keats is more down to earth. http://englishhistory.net/keats/poetry/humanseason... and http://englishhistory.net/keats/poetry/chapmanshom...
My two favourite poems are Marlowe's "The Passionate Shepherd to his Love" http://www.rjgeib.com/thoughts/shepherd/shepherd.h... and Releigh's reply to it, "The Nymph's Reply to the Shepherd" http://www.englishverse.com/poems/the_nymphs_reply...
I'd find you some Earl of Rochester stuff, they're hilarious, especially when he insulting stuff in his poems, one of those things being his penis, but I searched, and I can't find any of his poetry online (at least not any good ones).

I had melancholy soul last night
I saw my future in your past
When I would meet you and things were not so wrong anymore
But I have seen the past before
Through so many other eyes
And I never knew until your heart spoke to mine
Love could be so pure - without words
Your eyes see me like no other
I had a melancholy soul last night
When I saw my future in you passed
The realization that I would come to know life without you
Threw me so far backward in time
To the pain I knew
Before I ever looked into your eyes
And loved you so..

~caviar

As soon as I get to my parents and find the disk that I saved them to sure. Let me see if I can find my ancient website for you.

This is the one thing that really bugs me (and throws me off tract) about poetry; the lack of punctuation - this is the way it is written;
WHY should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets upon the great.
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this,
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?

Could it not be written with proper punctuation and still be called poetry???

WHY should I blame her that she filled my days with misery?
Or that she would, of late, have taught to ignorant men most violent ways?
Or hurled the little streets upon the great?
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind that nobleness made simple as a fire?
With beauty like a tightened bow?
A kind that is not natural in an age like this, being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?

This lack, which is not always so obvious, is what throws me and makes me loose my interest because I have to re-read it to get the message. It's often like so many personal thoughts just strung together without consideration for the reader...

See? Look above! Even Caviar can write the stuff!! (Hers made more sense than most published stuff I've read! Does this make it bad poetry?) ... I'm so confused!

Four Seasons fill the Measure of the year;
Four Seasons are there in the mind of Man.
He hath his lusty spring when fancy clear
Takes in all beauty with an easy span:
He hath his Summer, when luxuriously
He chews the honied cud of fair spring thoughts,
Till, in his Soul dissolv'd they come to be
Part of himself. He hath his Autumn ports
And Havens of repose, when his tired wings
Are folded up, and he content to look
On Mists in idleness: to let fair things
Pass by unheeded as a threshhold brook.
He hath his Winter too of pale Misfeature,
Or else he would forget his mortal nature.

This is the kind I consider too "flowery". Being bilingual, I choose to read English books, labels, directions etc. and never the French versions. Why? Just because written French is not really the way we speak it but the English version is. So I tend to use the English because the French is so convoluted! Just like poetry!

Greg Corso
Dylan Thomas
William Butler Yeats
Arthur Rimbaud
Guillaume Apollinaire
Charles Baudelaire
Allen Ginsberg
Lawrence Ferlinghetti
E.E. Cummings
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Edgar Allan Poe
Leonard Cohen

ed vedder.
neil young

ha! see how vain i am? i only answered this survey to see if anybody mentioned me.

Most of the times you do have to re-read and re-read and re-read. I've read No Second Troy myriad times and I still read it over and over and I'm still not fully sure what some lines mean. The reason the lines are broken down is to suit the rhyming patterns and because of the meter. Notice how at the end of each line each line is marked with a stress so even though when you read the poem, you read it as few big sentences, but you still know it's the end of the line.

If you want something REALLY non-flowery, then check out Emily Dickinson (http://www.online-literature.com/dickinson/), she's what you'd call a 'minimalist'. I am not as knowledgable as I should be about Modern poety, mostly because I think 99% of it is crap, but you'd like it. Maybe.

If you want, I'll show you some of my poetry. It's better than Shakespeare's, but shh, tell no one!

hehe..well, its true!

hehehe...not vain, it's being 'confident', right?

Wrong person, though I did find my website, but it's all older and crappier stuff, with a few exceptions.

I'd also like to give credit to Beowulf, though there is no single author identified.

Most of the times you do have to re-read and re-read and re-read. I've read No Second Troy myriad times and I still read it over and over and I'm still not fully sure what some lines mean. The reason the lines are broken down is to suit the rhyming patterns and because of the meter. Notice how at the end of each line each line is marked with a stress so even though when you read the poem, you read it as few big sentences, but you still know it's the end of the line.

If you want something REALLY non-flowery, then check out Emily Dickinson ( http://www.online-literature.com/dickinson/ ), she's what you'd call a 'minimalist'. I am not as knowledgable as I should be about Modern poety, mostly because I think 99% of it is crap, but you'd like it. Maybe.

Oh yeah, I didn't notice. It's because I got both yours and Irene's reply at the same time, and I forgot to change the little thingy.
Yes, it's always the older stuff that sucks really badly, eh? But not recently. When I got back home, I went through my folders where I document all the things I've ever written, and I read some stuff, and it's really, really good, and it's not really, really good just because I wrote it. Even before I learnt about meter, I would adhere to the rules uncousciously. Guess it's in my blood.

Poetry like art is extremely subjective. There is probably someone out there that you'd like, it's a matter of finding it. I actually like very few poets.
I thought Surrealist Bookmark was funny.
I didn't like that Rich poem either. I like her books "Diving into the Wreck" and "Your Native Land, Your Life" much more. She has SO much work (writing for 50 years) that I care LOVE some of her stuff, others I'm not so hot for.

So, what do you read?

So show me!
Thanks for the Dickinson link - I think it's the first time I've read any... Frankly, it's not bad at all. Like spidertea says; poetry is extremely subjective. I guess it's not really my cup of tea...

> Poetry like art is extremely subjective. There is probably someone
> out there that you'd like, it's a matter of finding it. I actually
> like very few poets.

I just read some Emily Dickinson (thanks to Iseult's link) and liked the first one I read!

There is no frigate like a book
To take us lands away,
Nor any coursers like a page
Of prancing poetry.
This traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll;
How frugal is the chariot
That bears a human soul!

I read just about anything. My whole family likes to read and have different interests so since we trade books - the gamut of subjects really varies. My brother is into ships and arctic explorers, I like history and many of his books are interesting to me because of the historic content of past explorers. I read all the time, lunch break at work is sacred to me; I have both my favourite things right under my nose - my book and my plate!
If I have to wait for anything without a book, I'll find something, anything to read. I am prepared for emergencies though; I have 2 miniature books in my wallet - Homer's "Iliad" and "Odyssey". They're only 1 1/4" x 1" x 1/4" so they're obviously condensed versions!

It's no wonder I like Dickinson's poem up above! My brother says that I read so much in order to escape reality. There may be some truth to that...

I like Shards of Glass at My Feet. I often use that imagery in my poems, too. I don't have my current poem writing book with me, it's in Charlottetown, but as I can remember, this is how one of the lines goes 'distant broken glass / through sanity it does pass / through my feet and up to my heart / where death begins the bleeding starts'. Willow is also beautiful. I can't help it, but poems have to rhyme. Reincarnation is kind of philosophical. It reminds me of Lucretius' De Rerum Natura. Hallowed is also beautiful. You should revise it and rework it, though. Maybe add punctuation? But what I realized not everybody likes using punctuation. I use to in order to help me say things more clearly, to add emphazise, and not everybody wants to do that. One might want to totally get rid of it.
Your early poetry is very mediocre, however, it shows potential. You have a way with words and you're not bad either at grouping your thoughts. Personally, I find your language to be too monotone, very minimalistic, and minimalism is a movement I appreciate in every kind of art EXCEPT writing. You can always use that to your advantage in painting a livelier picture of today's society, in the way which you see it. The thing about poetry is not to adopt yourself so you adhere to what the norms of poetry are, but rather to take your stranghts, your style, and things your love, and adopt them to the reader, make them beautiful.

Okay, I'm picking these out specially for you:

I AM

I am created from the humid earth,
morther Nature gave me strenght for rebirth.
And mother natured gave me all the charm
though it's not charm, but blistering harm.

I was blessed with acidic stones,
which formed my skeleton and my bones;
And to be blessed on the well-nigh grave
which, physically, nobody does crave.

I will be flying through highest branches
and scarring my body as though they were whipping lances,
to scar me from ever feeling inner peace,
to threaten my full-hearted decease.

Can you identify the allusion of the next one:
LUCRECE'S DISTRESS

Which is, of course, the part of the whole problem
the wind which is seething through me
can only be describe as a quasi-strong currency.

And then they try
to
rip
out all that is left from her;
the jealous bastards from
the end of the world.
They try

to

kill

the last hope buried deep
in Lucrece's den.

VERMILLION ROSE

Vertical grace upon a vermillion rose
rises as clouds choose to close
over my head, spitting towards the sky,
from my grave and hence to where vermillion lies;
To stricken the veil of shimmering doubts
boundaries extend to follow you around,
where earth touches shimmering ground,
where hyacinth grows to fill our graces
that last so long to knock our faces.

Parody Queen

Club cages and hyacinth,
that's all that I mean,
that's all that I want,
Many a wont to persuade you from the 'Don't!'.

Mortal gages and methamphetamine,
monolith to crash your scene,
monolith to break you down,
Take away your never-earned crown.

Many days of year to pass,
our inaffection finally does last,
but it reflects from the first time
from the dullness of your eyes.

Screaming through the podium
many words, all odious,
screaming through hyacinth,
killing us, or so it seems.

ECHONIA'S WAYS

In her dark, erotic ways
she chooses to say:
'That all that is blessed
can be carressed
but under the gossomer veil.'

My teacher pulled me after the class last year and asked me whether I'm suicidal because of this poem:
MAYBE

Maybe I should stop
Living in a moment,
Living up a whole life's aim
In a second’s worth
-
Maybe they’re after me
But I don’t even know it.
Air is fumes
And fumes do hurt.

Maybe I should stop
Recognizing my value
And let the rest
Show me the score
-
Maybe I should pay
Some free-spirited valour,
Let them enjoy,
Ask for nothing more.


Okay, just two more, and I'll stop.

LISTEN TO MY HARANGUE

Listen to them: Those faithful chums of frigid air.
That ensnare my soul of the Midian, but beware,
That I have wronged and sinned in the past
But through such atrocity I could not last.

I have born a veil and played a cheerful dirge,
Opposed to all that tried to rejoice and surge,
But have I sinned?, wicked spell have I cast?,
Through such atrocity I could not last.

And there you are, beaten and acerbic.
No Midian can help me get through this.
Such a lie I choose not to trust,
Through such atrocity I cannot last.

You are singed: beaten and churlish;
I'll reason you, we'll go through this.
Together to segregate what's left of dust -
through such atrocity could I not last?

Listen to them, those faithful chums of frigid cold.
Listen to them, high, mighty and bold,
They shall on your terrible lies cast
but through such atrocity I shall not dare last.

And my ABSOLUTE favourite:
TRESSPASS THE SEVEN GATES

My hatred is engulfing me,
Robust hammer given to thee,
To bludgeon my heard, since this doctrine
Is as bad as love supreme.

To fight up there in Elysium,
Myriad battles, summoning gloom,
To let crows pick at your grave,
Observe your face at how they behave.

With hammer and sword and gloom.
To smell your noxious perfume.
In smirched blood to fight many battles,
To die not in shame but with sound of rattles.

Abandon faith in God absolutely,
Love has taken life out of me,
Vapir rumours, death supreme,
Cutting the frills of her bloody seam.

I'm in agreeance with you, the latter grouping listed are much better, granted I've somewhat done completely done away with all rhyming scheme, it all depends on how something feels to me, which is th emost important factor in my opinion, Expressing myself, and getting it out there.

gosh darn! That's as good as any poetry I've ever read!!

Can you identify the allusion of the next one:
LUCRECE'S DISTRESS

Rome?

I read all of these (in fact, read and re-read them all) and gathered my own conclusions and/or allusions from them. I'd like you to tell me where you're mind was or what you were alluding too when you wrote them. Like I mentioned before, poetry to me is like modern art; you can look at it and find your own emotions/interpretations or be lucky enough to interview the artist and see if he has any depth/talent at all. Frankly, with my poetic ignorance; I think you really have something! Certainly depth of character, intelligence and sensitivity; all reasons why I like you so much!

You are a true modern poet. Modern literature it all about personalification and breaking the rules, and making it work for you. And I just love how you use some archaic words. Although many people consider it a faux pas of poetry, I don't think so.

I'm flattered. My ego is already over-inflated, compliments just make it bigger.
Yes, Lucrece's distress is an allusion to Rome. However, Shakespeare wrote a long, long, long poem on the act of rape of Lucretia (you know the story, seven kings of Rome, Tarquinius Superbus the last one who was expelled from Rome by Lucius Junius Brutus and Tarquinius Collatinus for raping Lucretia, who later killed herself). Although I prefer Lucretia, I was honouring Shakespeare in this one by saying Lucrece.

Words or spelling? If it's the spellings, it's my draw towards medieval times

So... Briefly; where was your head or what were you alluding to when you wrote them? (Besides Lucrece's Distress)

Well, it's both really. Like naught. I like that word. So... archaic

I felt cheated at that time, and I compared myself to Lucretia.

Cheated? By a guy?

No, just as a person.

I hate to sound so condescending but you'll grow out of those feelings!!

Dickinson is excellent. I have her comeplete works. She inspired a lot of poets.
I'd go crazy too if I couldn't read!

Oh, I already did. That's how I get back at people - I write hateful poems about them. Or if I'm really pissed, I'll write them in a book or a story and have them go through a hell.

Hey! I'd even read poetry if nothing else was around!

> Oh, I already did. That's how I get back at people - I write hateful
> poems about them. Or if I'm really pissed, I'll write them in a book
> or a story and have them go through a hell.

Hmmm... I'd better keep you on my good side!

i would have to say my own work....i write poems and even though i am only 15 that doesnt mean anything....i have shared alot of my poem to family members and friends and people i dont know and everybody gave me nothing but compliments about them so i am just going to keep writing.....................................

Would you care to share some here?

This is one of my poems that i wrote after my best gurlfriend dumped me.........its called "It's All Over"

Theres one phrase
Id like to say
to you and nobody else
and todays the day

How you made me feel
how you left me alone
seemed like on my head,
i was wearin' a cone

Theres nothing left between us
so why not run back to Phil
and when your done with that
ill be in the mood to kill

that nite was a dark one
so dark i couldnt see
but now the light has come bak
and bitc**n' at you helps me see

i dont care about you anymore
and now ive come out from under this cover
an say what i needed to say...
...ITS ALL OVER... written by :GhettoMan

Humorous American poets are my favorites. Here are a few samples.

Jane Wagner, From The Search for Signs of Intelligent Life in the Universe

"But my fears are more subtle. Like I fear being out of work,
and yet when I'm working, I have this constant fear
of being fired. The worst fear I have
is that this feeling I once had may come back."
--------------------------------------------------------------
Ishmael Reed, Sermonette

a poet was busted by a topless judge
his friends went to morristwn nj & put
black powder on his honah's doorstep
black powder into his honah's car
black powder on his honah's briefs
tiny dolls into his honah's mind

by nightfall his honah could a go no mo
his dog went crazy & ran into a crocodile
his widow fell from a wall &
hanged herself
his daughter was run over by a black man
coming home for the wakes the two boys
skidded into morning
all the next of kin's teeth fell out

gimmie dat ol time
                                religion
it's good enough
            for me!
--------------------------------------------------------------
Charlotte Perkins Gilman, Queer People

The people people work with best
  Are often very queer,
The people people own by birth
  Quite shock your first idea;
The people people choose for friends.

  Your common sense appall,
But the people people marry
  Are queerest ones of all.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Judith Viorst, From Self-Improvement

I've finished six pillows in Needlepoint,
and I'm reading Jane Austin and Kant,
And I'm up to the pork with black beans in
  Advanced Chinese Cooking.
I don't have to struggle to find myself
For I already know what I want.
I want to be healthy and wise and extremely good-
looking.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Shel Silverstein, Friendship

Ive discovered a way to stay friends forever--
There's really nothing to it.
I simply tell you what to do
And you do it!

nikki giovanni , maya angelou , antwone fisher , pablo neruda , emily dickinson , ernest hemingway , william shakespeare...to name a few. i write poetry and like some i feel i can never really get my point across and i conitnue to ramble. here's a short one that came to me just now...

my thoughts hav now bcome backwards
twistd along w/ tha thoughts of a socializing society
i tried 2 go and get my own getaway but it bcame
invaded so i had 2 get away
i was 1nce and mayb still am a poet
but i let 2 many people know it
and they slowly wantd 2 c
tha very thing that had bcame a part of me
i wantd some thing 2 call my own
but i realized i wasn't alone
she haunts my every daydream
and i can't get away it seems
after i thought i had given all i could give
i found out she was tha very reason i lived
so mayb i was and didn't know it
a modern day hip hop punk rock urban/surburban poet

lyrical miracle

amy lowell
edna st vincent millay
(plus a bunch of folks who've already been listed)

Ralph Hodgson, GK Chesterton, my brother, William Shakespeare, Rupert Brooke, Wilfred Owen, Robert Louis Stevenson, Rudyard Kipling, William Blake, Samuel Coleridge, John Donne, Alfred Tennyson, Ted Hughes, Walter de la Mere...there are others but it's so hard to just list them. My tastes generally lean towards 19th century and early to mid 20th century English poetry but that may be because that's what I've been mostly exposed to rather than a reflection of what I'd think of other periods/countries.

William Blake, William Shakespeare, and Mark McLaurin.