Knowledge poems

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The Alpaca

© Jim Carroll

 She is harnessed for a long journey; on her back she carries an entire store of wool.
 She walks without rest, and sees with eyes full of strangeness. The wool merchant has forgotten to come to get her, and she is ready.
 In this world, nothing comes better equipped than the alpaca; ones is more burdened with rags than the next. Her sky-high softness is such that if a newborn is placed on her back, he will not feel a bone of the animal.
 The weather is very hot. Today, large scissors that will cut and cut represent mercy for the alpaca.

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Sheridan at Cedar Creek

© Arvind Krishna Mehrotra

(October, 1864)


Shoe the steed with silver

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An Elegy upon the Death of the Dean of Paul's, Dr. John Donne

© Thomas Carew

Can we not force from widow'd poetry,

Now thou art dead (great Donne) one elegy

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from Dante Études: Book Three: In My Youth Not Unstaind

© Robert Duncan

Now, upon old age: “Our life
has a fixt course and a simple path”
I would not avoid, “that of our right nature”
—then Dante adds, himself quoting:
“and in every part of our life
 place is given for certain things”:

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Humboldt’s Birthday

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

ERE yet the warning chimes of midnight sound,
Set back the flaming index of the year,
Track the swift-shifting seasons in their round
Through fivescore circles of the swinging sphere!

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Swift

© Delmore Schwartz

What shall Presto do for pretty prattle
To entertain his dears? Sunday: lightning fifty times!
This week to Flanders goes the Duke of Ormond!
Shall hope of him, although he loves me well!

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Careless Hands Leave Torn Red Blossoms

© Xue Tao

This magical young season banishes the clouds
and wakes the land to bloom.
Fish play in the river pools
catching new scales from the small petals on the surface of the water.
The worldly have no knowledge of the delicate message of flowers;
Careless hands leave torn red blossoms scattered along the bank. 

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Paradise Regain'd: Book IV (1671)

© Patrick Kavanagh

PErplex'd and troubl'd at his bad success

The Tempter stood, nor had what to reply,

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Within and Without: Part IV: A Dramatic Poem

© George MacDonald


SCENE I.-Summer. Julian's room. JULIAN is reading out of a book of
poems.

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Paradise Regain'd: Book I (1671)

© Patrick Kavanagh

I Who e're while the happy Garden sung,

By one mans disobedience lost, now sing

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A Death in the Desert

© Robert Browning

Then Xanthus said a prayer, but still he slept:
It is the Xanthus that escaped to Rome,
Was burned, and could not write the chronicle.

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Prophecy

© Jules Supervielle

One day the Earth will be 
just a blind space turning, 
night confused with day. 
Under the vast Andean sky 
there’ll be no more mountains, 
not a rock or ravine. 

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The Condemned

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

AS in those lands of mighty mountain heights,
The streams, by sudden tempests overcharged,
Sweep down the slopes, hearing swift ruin with them,
So I and all my fortunes were engulf'd

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The Unknown Eros. Book I.

© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore

  Well dost thou, Love, thy solemn Feast to hold
  In vestal February;
  Not rather choosing out some rosy day
  From the rich coronet of the coming May,
  When all things meet to marry!

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The Spirit Of Discovery By Sea - Book The Fifth

© William Lisle Bowles

Such are thy views, DISCOVERY! The great world

  Rolls to thine eye revealed; to thee the Deep

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Grandfather Bridgeman

© George Meredith

'Heigh, boys!' cried Grandfather Bridgeman, 'it's time before dinner to-day.'
He lifted the crumpled letter, and thumped a surprising 'Hurrah!'
Up jumped all the echoing young ones, but John, with the starch in his throat,
Said, 'Father, before we make noises, let's see the contents of the note.'
The old man glared at him harshly, and twinkling made answer: 'Too bad!
John Bridgeman, I'm always the whisky, and you are the water, my lad!'

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Three Women

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

My love is young, so young;
Young is her cheek, and her throat,
And life is a song to be sung
With love the word for each note.

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The Author

© Charles Churchill

Accursed the man, whom Fate ordains, in spite,

And cruel parents teach, to read and write!

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Mary’s Wedding

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

The future I read in toil's guerdon,
You will read in your children's eyes:
The past--the same past with either--
Is to you a delightsome scene,
But I cannot trace it clearly
For the graves that rise between.

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A Map to the Next World

© Joy Harjo

for Desiray Kierra Chee
In the last days of the fourth world I wished to make a map for
those who would climb through the hole in the sky.