Attitude poems

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As I Sat Alone by Blue Ontarios Shores.

© Walt Whitman

1
AS I sat alone, by blue Ontarios shore,
As I mused of these mighty days, and of peace returnd, and the dead that return no
more,

A Retrospect Of Humidity

© Les Murray

All the air conditioners now slacken
their hummed carrier wave. Once again
we've served our three months with remissions
in the steam and dry iron of this seaboard.

Beauty

© Charles Baudelaire

I AM as lovely as a dream in stone,
And this my heart where each finds death in turn,
Inspires the poet with a love as lone
As clay eternal and as taciturn.

The Owls

© Charles Baudelaire

UNDER the overhanging yews,
The dark owls sit in solemn state,
Like stranger gods; by twos and twos
Their red eyes gleam. They meditate.

The Three Voices

© Lewis Carroll

HE trilled a carol fresh and free,
He laughed aloud for very glee:
There came a breeze from off the sea:

Sweet Machine

© Mark Doty

hanging his head between his knees,
spent, before he jerks himself up
and starts all over again.

Some Assembly Required

© Sonia Sanchez

Standing in line at the SuperSave, it all falls

Into place, Princess Di and the aliens and diet

Atlantis

© Mark Doty

“I’ve been having these
awful dreams, each a little different,
though the core’s the same—

This poem is concerned with language on a very plain level.
Look at it talking to you. You look out a window
Or pretend to fidget. You have it but you don’t have it.
You miss it, it misses you. You miss each other.

Boundary Issues

© John Ashbery

Here in life, they would understand.
How could it be otherwise? We had groped too,
unwise, till the margin began to give way,
at which point all was sullen, or lost, or both.

I Sing the Body Electric

© Walt Whitman

1
I sing the body electric,
The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul.

The Properly Scholarly Attitude

© Adelaide Crapsey

The poet pursues his beautiful theme;

The preacher his golden beatitude;

Bird Parliament (translation of)

© Edward Fitzgerald

And first, with Heart so full as from his Eyes
Ran weeping, up rose Tajidar the Wise;
The mystic Mark upon whose Bosom show'd
That He alone of all the Birds THE ROAD
Had travell'd: and the Crown upon his Head
Had reach'd the Goal; and He stood forth and said:

Hyacinth

© Louise Gluck

2
There were no flowers in antiquity
but boys’ bodies, pale, perfectly imagined.
So the gods sank to human shape with longing.
In the field, in the willow grove,
Apollo sent the courtiers away.

Bewildering Emotions

The merriment that followed was subdued--

As though the story-teller's attitude

In Rubble

Right after the bomb, even before the ceiling

And walls and floor are rearranging

From The Spanish Cancioneros

II.
Some day, some day
O troubled breast,
Shalt thou find rest.

My skeleton, my rival

Interesting that I have to live with my skeleton.
It stands, prepared to emerge, and I carry it
with me—this other thing I will become at death,
and yet it keeps me erect and limber in my walk,
my rival.