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Since everyone's in a poem mood, I thought I'd contribute...

One of my favorite poems:

Love seeketh not Itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care;
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hells despair.

So sang a little Clod of Clay,
Trodden by the cattle’s feet;
But a Pebble of the brook;
Warbled out these metres meet.

Love seeketh only Self to please,
To bind another to its delight;
Joys in another’s loss of ease,
And builds a Hell in Heavens despite.

--'The Pebble and the Clay', William Blake

And here's something I wrote one day in class last year for B/S. This is what one does when one doesn't bother much with one's math grade.
If you think it sucks, shut up. If you think its cool, talk. If you couldn't give a horse's ass, well, you talk too.

Thin Line Between
by Sara Weir

dancing dancing, slash and stab
in and out and jump and jab
swirl left, jibe right and up
grasping fingers pull and pain
brushing, touching; feel again
back and back till back is front
warring, courting, torn apart
thrown together baring hearts
hate and love so thick we choke
so thick it ends
so thick we kiss just to make it last

poetry