"Tie Your Heart At Night To Mine, Love," by Pablo Neruda

Choosing one favorite Pablo Neruda poem has always been a challenge, mostly because the purist in me wants to read his poetry in Spanish, despite my limited understanding, and then all decisive bets are off. His poetry always speaks to my every mood, and though I am feeling rather pensive today, this still remains one of my favorites.
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"Tie Your Heart At Night To Mine, Love,"
Tie your heart at night to mine, love,
and both will defeat the darkness
like twin drums beating in the forest
against the heavy wall of wet leaves.

Night crossing: black coal of dream
that cuts the thread of earthly orbs
with the punctuality of a headlong train
that pulls cold stone and shadow endlessly.

Love, because of it, tie me to a purer movement,
to the grip on life that beats in your breast,
with the wings of a submerged swan,

So that our dream might reply
to the sky's questioning stars
with one key, one door closed to shadow. 

-Pablo Neruda

"Poetry" by Nikki Giovanni

A cleverly written poem by Nikki Giovanni aptly titled "Poetry" to kick off the month devoted to poetry.
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"Poetry"

poetry is motion graceful
as a fawn
gentle as a teardrop
strong like the eye
finding peace in a crowded room
we poets tend to think
our words are golden
though emotion speaks too
loudly to be defined
by silence
sometimes after midnight or just before
the dawn
we sit typewriter in hand
pulling loneliness around us
forgetting our lovers or children
who are sleeping
ignoring the weary wariness
of our own logic
to compsoe a poem
no one understands it
it never says "love me" for poets are
beyond love
it never says "accept me" for poems seke not
acceptance but controversy
it only says "i am" and therefore
i concede that you are too

a poem is pure energy
horizontally contained
between the mind
of the poet and the ear of the reader
if it does not sing discard the ear
for poetry is song
if it does not deligh discard
the heart for poetry is joy
if it does not inform then close
off the brain for it is dead
if it cannot heed the insistent message
that life is precious


which is all we poets
wrapped in our loneliness
are trying to say

-Nikki Giovanni