Good poems
/ page 449 of 545 /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.
To The Countess Of Bedford II
© John Donne
TO have written then, when you writ, seem'd to me
Worst of spiritual vices, simony ;
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.
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.
Good Japanese Food
© Sukasah Syahdan
good Japanese food
on the Ides of March
tells me things will be fine
A Nightmare
© William Schwenck Gilbert
When you're lying awake with a dismal headache, and repose is
taboo'd by anxiety,
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;
The Shopkeeper
© Sukasah Syahdan
the shopkeeper munched
on lifecrumbs after the last
customer's goodbye
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?
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
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
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!
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
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!
The News
© Sukasah Syahdan
1)
eleven forty-five a.m.
someone sent me news
through the rain: good mourning!
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.
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
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