Poems begining by I
/ page 130 of 145 /I Do Not Love Thee For That Fair
© Thomas Carew
I do not love thee for that fair
Rich fan of thy most curious hair;
Though the wires thereof be drawn
Finer than threads of lawn,
And are softer than the leaves
On which the subtle spider weaves.
In Trouble
© Edith Nesbit
1 It's all for nothing: I've lost im now.
2 I suppose it ad to be:
3 But oh I never thought it of im,
4 Nor e never thought it of me.
I Trust in You
© Gary R. Ferris
I only know that I trust in you.
*****
My road has been long and very hard,
I Almost Held Your Hand Today
© Gary R. Ferris
And saw stars around the top.
*****
I wanted so much to tell you,
In Memoriam: Four Poets
© Robert Francis
Searock his tower above the sea,
Searock he built, not ivory.
Searock as well his haunted art
Who gave to plunging hawks his hearts.
I'm In Love
© Charles Bukowski
she's young, she said,
but look at me,
I have pretty ankles,
and look at my wrists, I have pretty
I Made A Mistake
© Charles Bukowski
I reached up into the top of the closet
and took out a pair of blue panties
and showed them to her and
asked "are these yours?"
I Only Am Escaped Alone to Tell Thee
© Howard Nemerov
I tell you that I see her still
At the dark entrance of the hall.
One gas lamp burning near her shoulder
Shone also from her other side
Insomnia I
© Howard Nemerov
Some nights it's bound to be your best way out,
When nightmare is the short end of the stick,
When sleep is a part of town where it's not safe
To walk at night, when waking is the only way
Images
© Richard Aldington
Like a gondola of green scented fruits
Drifting along the dark canals of Venice,
You, O exquisite one,
Have entered into my desolate city.
Introduction To The Song Of Hiawatha
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Should you ask me,
whence these stories?
Whence these legends and traditions,
With the odors of the forest
It is not Always May
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The sun is bright,--the air is clear,
The darting swallows soar and sing.
And from the stately elms I hear
The bluebird prophesying Spring.
I, In My Intricate Image
© Dylan Thomas
I, in my intricate image, stride on two levels,
Forged in man's minerals, the brassy orator
Laying my ghost in metal,
The scales of this twin world tread on the double,
My half ghost in armour hold hard in death's corridor,
To my man-iron sidle.
I Fellowed Sleep
© Dylan Thomas
I fellowed sleep who kissed me in the brain,
Let fall the tear of time; the sleeper's eye,
Shifting to light, turned on me like a moon.
So, planning-heeled, I flew along my man
And dropped on dreaming and the upward sky.
I Dreamed My Genesis
© Dylan Thomas
I dreamed my genesis in sweat of sleep, breaking
Through the rotating shell, strong
As motor muscle on the drill, driving
Through vision and the girdered nerve.
Incarnate Devil
© Dylan Thomas
Incarnate devil in a talking snake,
The central plains of Asia in his garden,
In shaping-time the circle stung awake,
In shapes of sin forked out the bearded apple,
And God walked there who was a fiddling warden
And played down pardon from the heavens' hill.