Good poems

 / page 449 of 545 /
star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Pietous Complainte Of The Soule.

© Thomas Hoccleve

I meanë thus: if ony part of grace  Reserued be, in tresoure or ellës where,That thu, for me purveyë and purchaseWolde vouchësaff, gret wondere but there wereI-nowgh for me: nought ellës I require;  Do somwhat, than, aftir thi propirte,And schewe whi thu art cleped charite. 
But now, allas, ful weel I may recorde,  Whil I had myght and space of tyme I-nowgh,Of this mattere, towchid I no word,Ne, to seint, I tho my self[ë] drowgh,
That in myne nede for me may spekë now,  As for no service that I have to him do:Wot I not, whom to make my monë to. 

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

To The Countess Of Bedford II

© John Donne

TO have written then, when you writ, seem'd to me

Worst of spiritual vices, simony ;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Condition Of King Seuen's Flocks

© Confucius

Who dares to say your sheep are few?
  The flocks are all three hundred strong.
  Who dares despise your cattle too?
  There ninety, black-lipped, press along.
  Though horned the sheep, yet peaceful each appears;
  The cattle come with moist and flapping ears.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Little Oliver

© William Schwenck Gilbert

EARL JOYCE he was a kind old party
Whom nothing ever could put out,
Though eighty-two, he still was hearty,
Excepting as regarded gout.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Good Japanese Food

© Sukasah Syahdan

good Japanese food
on the Ides of March
tells me things will be fine

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Hope In Spring

© William Barnes

In happy times a while agoo,

  My lively hope, that's now a-gone

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

A Nightmare

© William Schwenck Gilbert

When you're lying awake with a dismal headache, and repose is

taboo'd by anxiety,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Falcon

© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore

Who would not be Sir Hubert, for his birth and bearing fine,

  His rich sky-skirted woodlands, valleys flowing oil and wine;

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

England, My England

© William Ernest Henley

WHAT have I done for you,

  England, my England?

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Shopkeeper

© Sukasah Syahdan

the shopkeeper munched
on lifecrumbs after the last
customer's goodbye

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

An Ode To Mr. Howard

© Matthew Prior

Dear Howard, from the soft assaults of love
Poets and painters never are secure;
Can I untouch'd the fair one's passions move,
Or thou draw beauty, and not feel its power?

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Of The Nature Of Things: Book III - Part 05 - Cerberus And Furies, And That Lack Of Light

© Lucretius

Tartarus, out-belching from his mouth the surge

Of horrible heat- the which are nowhere, nor

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

To Jeoffry His Cat

© Christopher Smart

For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.

For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Songs Of The Imprisoned Naiad

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

"WOE! woe is me! the centuries pass away,
The mortal seasons run their ceaseless rounds,
While here I wither for the sunbright day,
Its genial sights and sounds.
Woe! woe is me!

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Friends

© Arthur Rimbaud

Come, the Wines are off to the seaside,
and the waves by the million!
Look at wild Bitter rolling from the mountain tops!
Let us reach, like good pilgrims, green-pillared Absinthe…

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Children

© Rudyard Kipling

They bought us anew with their blood, forbearing to blame us,
Those hours which we had not made good when the Judgment o'ercame us.
They believed us and perished for it. Our statecraft, our learning
Delivered them bound to the Pit and alive to the burning
Whither they mirthfully hastened as jostling for honour.
Not since her birth has our Earth seen such worth loosed upon her!

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The News

© Sukasah Syahdan

1)
eleven forty-five a.m.
someone sent me news
through the rain: “good mourning!”

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Poem for My Wife

© Sukasah Syahdan


Notes:
* Meat Cages (“Sangkar Daging”) is also title of a poem by a West Sumatran poet Gus Tf.
** Joko Pinurbo is an Indonesian poet known for his witty poems gravitating on pants.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Of The Nature Of Things: Book I - Part 06 - Confutation Of Other Philosophers

© Lucretius

And on such grounds it is that those who held

The stuff of things is fire, and out of fire

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

A Friday Prayer

© Sukasah Syahdan

Before the midnoon sermon was a starter
He had sat quietly on the corner,
His mien dripping with wudhu water
His all seeing eyes observe in glister