Poems begining by D
/ page 44 of 94 /
Do Not!
© Stevie Smith
Do not despair of man, and do not scold him,
Who are you that you should so lightly hold him?
Dreams
© Ogden Nash
To dream of love, and, waking, to remember you:
As though, being dead, one dreamed of heaven, and woke
in hell.
At night my lovely dreams forget the old farewell:
Ah! wake not by his side, lest you remember too!
Dear Doctor, I have Read your Play
© Lord Byron
Dear Doctor, I have read your play,
Which is a good one in its way,
Dover Beach
© Matthew Arnold
Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Ægean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
Dulcis Memoria
© Henry Van Dyke
Long, long ago I heard a little song,
(Ah, was it long ago, or yesterday?)
Der Schwoerende Liebhaber
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
Ich schwoer es dir, o Laura, dich zu hassen;
Gerechten Hass schwoer ich dir zu.
Ich schwoer es allen Schoenen, sie zu hassen;
Weil alle treulos sind, wie du.
Ich schwoer es dir, vor Amors Ohren,
Dass ich--ach! dass ich falsch geschworen.
Delia XXXVI
© Samuel Daniel
But love whilst that thou mayst be loved again,
Now whilst thy May hath filled thy lap with flowers,
Drury-lane Prologue Spoken by Mr. Garrick at the Opening of the Theatre in Drury-Lane, 1747
© Henry James Pye
When Learning’s triumph o’er her barb’rous foes
First rear’d the stage, immortal Shakespear rose;
During the War
© Philip Levine
When my brother came home from war
he carried his left arm in a black sling
but assured us most of it was still there.
Spring was late, the trees forgot to leaf out.
Definition of the Frontiers
© Archibald MacLeish
First there is the wind but not like the familiar wind but long and without lapses or falling away or surges of air as is usual but rather like the persistent pressure of a river or a running tide.
This wind is from the other side and has an odor unlike the odor of the winds with us but like time if time had odor and were cold and carried a bitter and sharp taste like rust on the taste of snow or the fragrance of thunder.
When the air has this taste of time the frontiers are not far from us.
Then too there are the animals. There are always animals under the small trees. They belong neither to our side nor to theirs but are wild and because they are animals of such kind that wildness is unfamiliar in them as the horse for example or the goat and often sheep and dogs and like creatures their wandering there is strange and even terrifying signaling as it does the violation of custom and the subversion of order.
Dancing on the Grave of a Son of a Bitch
© Diane Wakoski
Foreword to “Dancing on the Grave of a Son of a Bitch”
This poem is more properly a “dance poem” than a song or chant because the element of repetition is created by movements of language rather than duplicating words and sounds. However, it is in the spirit of ritual recitation that I wrote it/ a performance to drive away bad spirits perhaps.
The story behind the poem is this: a man and woman who have been living together for some time separate. Part of the pain of separation involves possessions which they had shared. They both angrily believe they should have what they want. She asks for some possession and he denies her the right to it. She replies that she gave him money for a possession which he has and therefore should have what she wants now. He replies that she has forgotten that for the number of years they lived together he never charged her rent and if he had she would now owe him $7,000.
She is appalled that he equates their history with a sum of money. She is even more furious to realize that this sum of money represents the entire rent on the apartment and implies that he should not have paid anything at all. She is furious. She kills him mentally. Once and for all she decides she is well rid of this man and that she shouldn’t feel sad at their parting. She decides to prove to herself that she’s glad he’s gone from her life. With joy she will dance on all the bad memories of their life together.
Delia XXXVII
© Samuel Daniel
When men shall find thy flower, thy glory pass,
And thou, with careful brow sitting alone,
Done is a Battle
© William Dunbar
Done is a battle on the dragon black,
Our champion Christ confoundit has his force;
Do Not Believe
© Aleksey Konstantinovich Tolstoy
Do not believe, my dearest, when I say
That I no longer love you.
When the tide ebbs do not believe the sea -
It will return anew.
Dr. Booker T. Washington to the National Negro Business League
© Joseph Seamon Cotter
’Tis strange indeed to hear us plead
For selling and for buying
When yesterday we said: “Away
With all good things but dying.”
Drizzle
© William Matthews
At first not smoking took all my time: I did it
a little by little and hour by hour.
Denial by Patricia Frolander : American Life in Poetry #275 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
I recognize the couple who are introduced in this poem by Patricia Frolander, of Sundance, Wyoming, and perhaps you’ll recognize them, too.
Denial
Das Erdbeben
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
Bruder, Bruder, halte mich!
Warum kann ich denn nicht stehen?
Warum kannst du denn nicht gehen?
Bruder geh, ich fuehre dich.
