All Poems

/ page 2557 of 3210 /

Order by :

Of Such Simplicity

© Ivan Donn Carswell

You and me,
the proof is there to see,
our lives are held within the spell of great simplicity,
were free of all the shadows dwelling in the hall,

To-- : From The French

© George Gordon Byron

Must thou go, my glorious Chief,

Sever'd from thy faithful few?

Nothing ever is the same

© Ivan Donn Carswell

Gnashing teeth,
a grinding meet
of molars crashing
cuspid on cuspid

None is spared your handsome smile

© Ivan Donn Carswell

The mystery of a smile that glows within your eyes
and is framed in an innocent countenance
passes not unheeded.
Those transient's hallway smiles and greetings offered through your door

It was my life in fast review, initially at double speed
until I learned which functions scrolled the images
on screen. I could pause, freeze frame advance,
endlessly replay and alter sound although the thing

The Hill Of Death

© Louisa Lawson

No downward path to death we go
Through no dark shades or valleys low,
But up and on oer rises bright
Toward the dawn of endless light.

No further slice of me

© Ivan Donn Carswell

Enduring an inguinal hernia repair can
drive you to despair, it is a monumental
nonsense; in my defence I hadnt lived
through one before, couldnt be sure

Composed At The Same Time And On The Same Occasion

© William Wordsworth

I DROPPED my pen; and listened to the Wind
That sang of trees uptorn and vessels tost--
A midnight harmony; and wholly lost
To the general sense of men by chains confined

No conscience in escape

© Ivan Donn Carswell

Should you be allowed sole privilege
of unconscionable martyrdom?
This affliction is self-pity brought by suffering
as penitent to unrequited lust.

Scum Of The Earth

© Sheldon Allan Silverstein

There was a group called called Scum of the Earth
And they say they got their birth
In a basement bar on Greek Street down in Soho
The bass man he smoked grass and the drummer he kicked ass

Nights sentinel

© Ivan Donn Carswell

Even tonight will pass into memorys oblivion,
doomed, despite an ardent reunion
of once estranged yet precisely matched parts,
to a guiltless verdict a foregone conclusion.

My enemy my friend

© Ivan Donn Carswell

My enemy my friend
whom I know without compromise,
when I listened to the
deconstructions avowed of you

Old Black Joe

Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay,

Gone are my friends from the cotton fields away,

Mountains of Delight

The problem was the manner of choice
(or whether there was a choice for that matter)
as you had taken those options to yourself,
choosing as you had to do, and as it was right for you,
there is no shame in that and no reproving,
but my alternatives were emptied by your doing.

The Fishing Outfit

You may talk of stylish raiment,

You may boast your broadcloth fine,

Mornings Reflections

Were meetings predestined then ours was intended,
great oracles decreed it as fate, and the auguries chattered
with sweet benefactors and fêted to chance with a face.
We were then both separate and free in our choosing