She's also written prose, but she writes it in a way that sounds almost like poetry, full of metaphor and imagery.
Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
131–140 of 369 posts
Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#132 What's my great fear?
I'll tell you; come near...
To lay down in death
with so much left.
Passion not spent -
Oh cowardly regret!
For fear of others?
The thousand deaths.
I'm afraid to die
With no twinkle in my eye -
To pass meagerly by
Yet hidden inside.
To walk through life
Not truly alive,
And to pass in the night
With an unfelt "goodbye".Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#133Sample Haiku:
Gusts of wind rising
up the chimney face blow his
feathers the wrong way.Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#134Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#135No more games, I'ma change what you call rage
Tear this motherfucking roof off like two dogs caged
I was playing in the beginning, the mood all changed
I've been chewed up and spit out and booed off stage
But I kept rhyming and stepped right into the next cypher
Best believe somebody's paying the pied piper
All the pain inside amplified by the fact
That I can't get by with my 9 to 5
And I can't provide the right type of life for my family
Cause man, these goddamn food stamps don't buy diapers
And it's no movie, there's no Mekhi Phifer, this is my life
And these times are so hard, and it's getting even harder
Trying to feed and water my seed, plus
Teeter totter caught up between being a father and a prima donna
Baby mama drama's screaming on and
Too much for me to wanna
Stay in one spot, another day of monotony
Has gotten me to the point, I'm like a snail
I've got to formulate a plot or I end up in jail or shot
Success is my only motherfucking option, failure's not
Mom, I love you, but this trailer's got to go
I cannot grow old in Salem's lot
So here I go it's my shot.
Feet, fail me not, this may be the only opportunity that I got
Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#136Shakespeare is lame.
Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#137 TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth; 5
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same, 10
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back. 15
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#138Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#139Re: Ask HN: Who are your favorite poets?
#140I'm a fan of Invictus, by William Ernest Henley: Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the Shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds a…