hi JURA !! my favurate poem is "THEME FOR ENGLISH B" by Langston Hughes: The instructor said, Go home and write a page tonight. And let that page come out of you--- Then, it will be true. I wonder if it's that simple? I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem. I went to school there, then Durham, then here to this college on the hill above Harlem. I am the only colored student in my class. The steps from the hill lead down into Harlem through a park, then I cross St. Nicholas, Eighth Avenue, Seventh, and I come to the Y, the Harlem Branch Y, where I take the elevator up to my room, sit down, and write this page: It's not easy to know what is true for you or me at twenty-two, my age. But I guess I'm what I feel and see and hear, Harlem, I hear you: hear you, hear me---we two---you, me, talk on this page. (I hear New York too.) Me---who? Well, I like to eat, sleep, drink, and be in love. I like to work, read, learn, and understand life. I like a pipe for a Christmas present, or records---Bessie, bop, or Bach. I guess being colored doesn't make me NOT like the same things other folks like who are other races. So will my page be colored that I write? Being me, it will not be white. But it will be a part of you, instructor. You are white--- yet a part of me, as I am a part of you. That's American. Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me. Nor do I often want to be a part of you. But we are, that's true! As I learn from you, I guess you learn from me--- although you're older---and white--- and somewhat more free. This is my page for English B.

Hi Jura! you sure know how to make someone think:) One of my favorite poem is The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe,here is a few paragraphs: Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door - Only this, and nothing more.' Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore - For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore - Nameless here for evermore. I really like Charles Baudelaire,Les Fleurs Du Mal.

" as the black student learns from the white instructor, the white instructor also learns from the black student, even though the instructor is older, white, and “somewhat more free” than the black student is. He ends by saying “This is my page for English B.” He apparently feels that he has exhausted the truth of this particular subject. " ..... and i love to interrupt the letter "B" as (BE)... JUST BE UR SELF NO MORE NO LESS !! thanx for the Q

My favorite poem is very short and witty, by a Dutch poet: "God schiep als een voorbeeldig dier de nijvre mier Zijn tweede schepping was nog beter: de miereneter." Translation: "God created as an examplary animal the industrious ant His second creation was even better: the anteater." Hehe, it's so funny. :P

Mine is " It's year 2008 and nothing has changed , passed generation aged , It's times to write the next page , It's up to you and me , Either we make history or we become history ' It responds to many of my visions and hopes .