Poems begining by I
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I am He that Aches with Love.
© Walt Whitman
I AM he that aches with amorous love;
Does the earth gravitate? Does not all matter, aching, attract all matter?
So the Body of me, to all I meet, or know.
I Dreamd in a Dream.
© Walt Whitman
I DREAMD in a dream, I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the whole of the rest of
the
earth;
In Cabind Ships at Sea.
© Walt Whitman
1
IN cabind ships, at sea,
The boundless blue on every side expanding,
With whistling winds and music of the wavesthe large imperious wavesIn
I Sit and Look Out.
© Walt Whitman
I SIT and look out upon all the sorrows of the world, and upon all oppression and shame;
I hear secret convulsive sobs from young men, at anguish with themselves, remorseful after
deeds
done;
In Midnight Sleep.
© Walt Whitman
1
IN midnight sleep, of many a face of anguish,
Of the look at first of the mortally woundedof that indescribable look;
Of the dead on their backs, with arms extended wide,
In The Baggage Room At Greyhound
© Allen Ginsberg
IIn the depths of the Greyhound Terminal
sitting dumbly on a baggage truck looking at the sky
waiting for the Los Angeles Express to depart
worrying about eternity over the Post Office roof in
In Back Of The Real
© Allen Ginsberg
railroad yard in San Jose
I wandered desolate
in front of a tank factory
and sat on a bench
near the switchman's shack.
In Memory Of Alfred Pollexfen
© William Butler Yeats
Five-and-twenty years have gone
Since old William pollexfen
Laid his strong bones down in death
By his wife Elizabeth
Imitated From The Japanese
© William Butler Yeats
Seventy years have I lived
No ragged beggar-man,
Seventy years have I lived,
Seventy years man and boy,
And never have I danced for joy.
In Tara's Halls
© William Butler Yeats
A man I praise that once in Tara's Hals
Said to the woman on his knees, 'Lie still.
My hundredth year is at an end. I think
That something is about to happen, I think
In Memory Of Eva Gore-Booth And Con Markiewicz
© William Butler Yeats
The light of evening, Lissadell,
Great windows open to the south,
Two girls in silk kimonos, both
Beautiful, one a gazelle.
I Am Of Ireland
© William Butler Yeats
'I am of Ireland,
And the Holy Land of Ireland,
And time runs on,' cried she.
'Come out of charity,
Come dance with me in Ireland.'
Interior
© Dorothy Parker
Her mind lives in a quiet room,
A narrow room, and tall,
With pretty lamps to quench the gloom
And mottoes on the wall.
Inscription for the Ceiling of a Bedroom
© Dorothy Parker
Daily dawns another day;
I must up, to make my way.
Though I dress and drink and eat,
Move my fingers and my feet,
I Shall Come Back
© Dorothy Parker
Strange, that from lovely dreamings of the dead
I shall come back to you, who hurt me most.
You may not feel my hand upon your head,
I'll be so new and inexpert a ghost.
Perhaps you will not know that I am near-
And that will break my ghostly heart, my dear.
I Know I Have Been Happiest
© Dorothy Parker
Yet this the need of woman, this her curse:
To range her little gifts, and give, and give,
Because the throb of giving's sweet to bear.
To you, who never begged me vows or verse,
My gift shall be my absence, while I live;
But after that, my dear, I cannot swear.
I Cannot Change, As Others Do
© John Wilmot
I cannot change, as others do,
Though you unjustly scorn;
Since that poor swain that sighs for you,
For you alone was born.
Inside Ayers Rock
© Les Murray
Inside Ayers Rock is lit
with paired fluorescent lights
on steel pillars supporting the ceiling
of haze-blue marquee cloth
Infelice
© Stevie Smith
Walking swiftly with a dreadful duchess,
He smiled too briefly, his face was pale as sand,
He jumped into a taxi when he saw me coming,
Leaving my alone with a private meaning,
I Do Not Speak
© Stevie Smith
I do not ask for mercy for understanding for peace
And in these heavy days I do not ask for release
I do not ask that suffering shall cease.
