Other Poetry

Some Poetry By Other People

An Irish Airman Foresees His Death
by William Butler Yeats

I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.

All Lovely Things
by Conrad Aiken

All lovely things will have an ending,
All lovely things will fade and die,
And youth, that's now so bravely spending,
Will beg a penny by and by.

Fine ladies all are soon forgotten,
And goldenrod is dust when dead,
The sweetest flesh and flowers are rotten
And cobwebs tent the brightest head.

Come back, true love! Sweet youth return!--
But time goes on, and will, unheeding,
Though hands will reach, and eyes will yearn,
And the wild days set true hearts bleeding.

Come back, true love! Sweet youth, remain!--
But goldenrod and daises wither,
And over them blows autumn rain,
They pass, they pass, and know not whither.

UNTITLED

So now, Little Man, you've grown tired of grass,
L.S.D., goof balls, cocaine, and hash,
And someone pretending to be a true friend
Says, "I'll introduce you to Miss Heroin."
Well, Honey, before you start messing with me,
Let me inform you of how it will be.
For I will seduce you and make you my slave;
I've sent men much stronger than you to their grave.
You think you could never become a disgrace
And end up addicted to my poppy seed waste.
So you'll start inhaling me one afternoon,
And take me into our arms very soon.
And once I have entered deep down in your veins,
The craving will early drive you insance.
The hot chills, the cold sweat and withdrawl pains
Can only be saved by me little white grains.
You'll need lots of money (as you have been told),
For, Darling, I'm much more expensive than gold.
You'll swindle your mother and just for a buck,
You'll turn into something vile and corrupt.
You'll mug and you'll steal for my narcotic charm,
And feel contempt when I'm in your arm.
And when you realize the monster you've grown,
You'll solemnly promise to leave me alone.
But, Sweety, if you think you've got the mystical knack,
Then just try getting me off your back.
The vomit, the cramps, your gut tied in a knot,
Your tangling nerves screaming for just one more shot,
You'll desperately run to the pusher and then
Welcome me back to your arms once again.
And when you return (just as I foretold),
You know you will give me your body and soul.
There's no need to hide, and there's nowhere to look,
For deep down inside you'll know you are hooked.
You'll give up your conscience, your morals, and heart
And you will be mine till
Death Do Us Part

The Tiger
by William Blake

Tiger! tiger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies
Burned the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, and what arm,
Could twist the sinews of they heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
what dread hand? and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?
In the furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? what dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears
And watered heaven with their tears,
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tiger! tiger! bruning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

Heaven
by Rupert Brooke

Fish (fly-replete, in depth of June,
Dawdling away their wat'ry noon)
Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear,
Each secret fishy hope or fear.
Fish say, they have their Stream and Pond;
But is there anything Beyond?
This life cannot be All, they swear,
For how unpleasant, if it were!
One may not doubt that, somehow, Good
Shall come of Water and of Mud;
And, sure, the reverent eye must see
A purpose in liquidity.
We darkly know, by Faith we cry,
The future is not Wholly Dry.
Mud unto mud--Death eddies near--
Not here the appointed End, not here!
But somewhere, beyond Space and Time,
Is wetter water, slimier slime!
And there (they trust) there swimmeth One
Who swam ere rivers were begun,
Immense, of fishy form and mind,
Squamous, omnipotent, and kind;
And under that Almighty Fin,
The littlest fish may enter in.
Oh never fly conceals a hook,
Fish say, in the Eternal Brook,
But more than mundane weeds are there,
And mud, celestially fair;
Fat caterpillars drift around,
And paradisal grubs are found;
Unfading moths, immortal flies,
And the worm that never dies.
And in that Heaven of all thier wish,
There shall be no more land, say fish.

Meeting at Night
by Robert Browning

The grey sea and the long black land.
And the yellow half-moon largo and low;
And the startled waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, through its joys and fears,
Then the two hearts beating each to each!

The Attic
by Henri Coulette

We have ascended to this paradise,
Make-believe angels hurrying to our choirs.
Imagination is our Sunday vice;
We are alone, alone with our desires.

We are enchanted by the sound of rain;
Darkness, half-light, and light combine and blur.
This is the national treasury of Cockaigne,
Of which we are the keepers, as it were.

Time is our Midas. We are of his line;
His touch descends to us on either side--
That golden touch. One gesture will refine
This dust into such realms as dust would hide.

These beads are pearls disguised as imitations.
This broken chair, my dear? It is a throne
From which you may survey the lesser nations,
Those lands that cannot claim you as their own.

This box contains the music of the spheres;
Its Swiss machinery records the stars.
Ever the listener given to fancy hears
The strings of Venus and the drum of Mars.

Time and Imagination--what are they?
They are, my dear, the pseudonyms of Change,
The smooth, indifferent author of our play,
Master of both the common and the strange.

My sister, it is autumn in Cockaigne,
And we are weary, for we've come so far
--Too far to be enchanted by the rain.
We are alone, alone with what we are.

Leisure
by W. H. Davies

What is this life if, full of care,
We have not time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide thier nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like stars at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

Death May Be Very Gentle
by Oliver St.John Gogarty

Death may be very gentle after all:
He turns his face away from arrogant knights
Who fling themselves against him in their fights;
But to the loveliest he loves to call.
And he has with him those whose ways were mild
And beautiful; and many a little child.

To Daffodils
by Robert Herrick

Fair daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon;
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attained his noon.
Stay, stay
Until the hasting day
has run
But to the evensong;
And having prayed together, we
Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay, as you;
We have as short a spring;
As quick a growth to meet decay,
As you, or any thing.
We die
As your hours do, and dry
Away
Like to the summer's rain,
Or as the pearls of mornign's dew,
Ne'er to be found again.

The Night-Piece, to Julia
by Robert Herrick

Her eyes the glowworm lend thee;
The shooting stars attend thee;
And the elves also,
Whose little eyes glow
Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.

No will-o'-the-wisp mislight thee,
Nor snake or slowworm bit thee;
But on, on thy way
Not making a stay,
Since ghosts there's none to affright thee.

Let not the dark thee cumber;
What though the moon does slumber?
The stars of the night
Will lend thee their light,
Like tapers clear withough number.

Then, Julia, let me woo thee,
Thus, thus to come unto me;
And when I shall meet
Thy silv'ry feet,
My soul I'll pour into thee.

To the Stone-Cutters
by Robinson Jeffers

Stone-cutters fighting time with marble, you fore-defeated
Challengers of oblivion
Eat cynical earnings, knowing rock splits, records fall down,
The square-limbed Roman letters
Scale in the thaws, wear in the rain. the poet as well
Builds his monument mockingly;
For man will be blotted out, the blithe earth die, the brave sun
Die blind and blacken to the heart:
Yet stones have stood for a thousand years, and pained
thoughts found
The honey of peace in old poems.

Flying
by Stephanie LaPeter

Here is my cause
This is my chance
Can't remember my name
And don't know where I am
this is my reason
this is my why
But reasons need wings
To learn how to fly
And I could be you
But I'm here for me
My 15 of fame
My moment of glory
this is my heart
Right here on my sleeve
I'm looking so strong
But I'd fall down so easy
I'm at my weakness
Here in your eye
Just reach out and be me
Like this you can fly
But you'll come crashing down
I know I will
When everything's over
I'll be bottom of the hill
And I feel like laughing
And I feel like crying
And I want to scream
And I know I'm flying
But it's the last you'll ever see me
the first you'll ever know
One moment is that everything
One moment's all we know
And now I don't belong to you
I'm on my own I'm free
Which kind of is the saddest part
Cause no one will remember me
But here I am
I don't know why
I gave wings to my reason
And now we both fly.

Empty
by Stephanie LaPeter

Shadows in my mind,
are emptier than me.
There's nothing here to find,
there's nothing left to be.
The beating of my heart is hollow as my cries,
shut me up in everyway
see if, then, I die.
The blinking of my eyes
cannot stop my tears
flapping like two wings
and cannot hide my fears.

Richard Cory
by Edwin Arlington Robinson

Whenever Richard Cory went down town,
We people on the pavement looked at him:
He was a gentleman from sole to crown,
Clean favored, and imperially slim.

And he was always quietly arrayed,
And he was always human when he talked;
But still he fluttered pulses when he said,
"Good morning," and he glittered when he walked.

And he was rich--yes, richer than a king--
And admirably schooled in every grace:
In fine, we thought that he was everything
To make us wish that we were in his place.

So on we worked, and waited for the light,
And went withought the meat, and cursed the bread;
And Richard Cory, one calm summer night,
Went home and put a bullet through his head.

Up-hill
by Christina Rossetti

"Does the road wind up-hill all the way?"
"Yes, to the very end."
"Will the day's journey take the whole long day?"
"From morn to night, my friend."

"But is there for the ngiht a resting-lace?
A roof for when the slow dark hours begin?
May not the darkness hide it from my face?"
"You cannot miss the inn."

"Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?"
"Those who have gone before."
"Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?"
"They will not keep you standing at that door."

"Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?"
"Of labor you shall find the sum."
"Will there be beds for me and all who seek?"
"Yea, beds for all who come."

Fog
by Carl Sandburg

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

In the Poppy Field
by James Stephens

Mad Patsy said, he said to me,
That every morning he could see
An angel walking on the sky;
Across the sunny skies of morn
He threw great hanfuls far and nigh
Of poppy seed among the corn;
--And then, he said, the angels run
To see the poppies in the sun.

A poopy is a devil weed,
I said to him--he disagreed:
He said the devil had no hand
In spreading flowers tall and fair
By corn adn rye and meadow land,
And gurth and barrow everwhere:
The devil has not any flower
But only money in his power.

And then he stretched out in the sun
And rolled upon his back for fun!
He kicked his legs and roared for joy
Because the sun was shining down!
He said he was a little boy
And wouldn't work for any clown!
He ran and laughed behind a bee,
And danced for very ecstasy!

UNTITLED
by Stephanie LaPeter

an orange moon rises
over a blackened city night.
it falls deaf on their ears,
and blind on their eyes.
all but one person
seem not to care,
he sits quiet on a rooftop
to forget why he's here.
with his head tilted up
and his arms 'round his knees,
not wanting to know,
he only sees.

UNTITLED
by Stephanie LaPeter

a beautiful picture
on an empty wall.
one stunning portrait
in a lonely hall.

dancing by herself,
and the music isn't there.
all alone in rhythm,
eyes shut without a care.

her long and flowing dress,
like mist around her feet,
soft and light and silky,
quiet and dangerous and sweet.

her curls of upswept hair
fall deftly 'round her face,
smooth and shining tendrils,
they give her such a grace.

a scent that floats about her,
like a perfect summer night,
calming and seductive,
not a soul in sight.

a solitary pearl
on a chain around her neck,
and two dangling from her ears,
and on one finger, a ring is set.

smiling just so slightly,
a sly mischievieous grin.
more romantic by the momnet,
her lips could pull you in.

all dressed up for no one,
a beauty and no beast.
a sight that no one's seeing,
no one at the least.

UNTITLED
by Stephanie LaPeter

i want to be behind the plastic
of the picture on my wall
by the frothing churning waters
on the jagged crumbling rocks
staring at the sunset
and how the waves caress the sun
soaking up it's beauty
seeing red and blue as one
watching all the fire sink
being put out byt the night
feeling cool spray on my face
and tasting salty air
listening to the tossing waves
as they make love to the shore
underneath the golden clouds
watching daytime die
feeling sunlight on my body
the water creeping on my feet
letting wind blow through my hair
taking away my troubles.
i close my eyes and think of it
and feel the sand between my toes

Dreams, Deception, Despair, and My Shell
by Jennifer Biss

In a world of her own,
In her private little shell,
There was once a turtle,
Who told me her tale.

"I learned quite young my friend,
In this story that I tell,
That the safest place to be,
is deep inside my shell.

Hidden away from hurt,
From feelings and from pain,
I gain nothing to lose,
and I lose nothing I gain.

You see, my friend,
In a time yet long ago,
I was hurt and hurt badly,
Much pain did I forego.

By someone I thought wonderful,
Though plain it was for all to see,
All pain inflicted he did enjoy,
And much pain did he inflict on me.

But I loved him anyway,
Stoody by him all I could,
Though in the end it mattered not,
He died, long before he should.

By his own hand, in fact,
For his own life he took,
Thinking only for himself,
At those around him he did not look.

He's gone now, yes, gone for good,
But the sad thing is you see,
I told him how much I love him,
But he never did love me.

He uttered not a word,
Or a deed to let me know,
That he, my father, loved me,
And thus it did not show.

So I hid myself, deep within my shell,
As I watched the world go by,
I didn't believe in love at all,
We were here to live, and soon thereafter die.

I stayed hidden for the longest time,
Forever in my shell I would remain.
Judging all, most as fools,
Those I thought insane.

But then one day, the sweetest voice I heard,
One who proclaimed to be true,
Who said the words I hadn't heard,
That on my ears felt new.

He asked me to open up,
But in my shell I stayed,
He didn't seem to understand,
That once fear lives you stay afraid.

But then one day, a miracle occurred,
I cracked my shell a tiny bit,
To hear more clearly the voice I'd heard.

He proclaimed to me that he was the sun,
That he could brighten the darkest night,
That great and glorious things would come,
With his gift, the gift of sight.

Though my fears still lived on,
I opened up to see the sights,
And to see with him,
At the most glorious of heights.

And as out of my shell I came,
I hope for things that had never been,
And dreamed for what could never be.

When I came out, I looked up into the sun,
But the light was too bright to bear,
And I was blinded for moments to come,
While he told me that he cared.

It merely heightened my fears to see it so,
Those fears, which I've foretold,
Those fears that came to me, when young,
Have only strengthened, now, when I am old.

And then I had a choice to make,
For the sun was scary to me,
To stay and be scared forever more,
Or re-enter my world of privacy.

So I drew my shell tightly closed,
And would let no one get through,
Or let them persuade me once again,
To do what they bid me do.

And so, here I remain, safe as safe could be
Watching fools numerous go by, almost
Everyone I see.

And this place, my friend, I find the best,
This private shell of my very own,
My quiet little nest.

Now you have heard my story,
My humble yet true tale,
Of my vast experience and fears,
And of my little shell.

And after this, I have but one thing to say,
So hear me, hear me well,
The safest place to be my fellow,
Is deep inside your shell."

When i Sleep....When i Wake...
by Brian Lewis

All i see, when i dream
Is you
All i want, all i think
Is you
When i sleep...When i wake...
All i'll love, all i'll fear
Is you
'Cause your the one, the only
That can bring me hapiness,
And depression
All i see, when i wake
Is you
All i need, all i'll ever need
is you
When i sleep... When i wake...
All i'll love, all i'll fear
Is you
'Cause your the one, the only
That can bring me happiness,
And depression

Just Friends
Anonymous

A tale of two lovers,
Who loved each other so much.
But their differences separated them,
And soon it ruined their love.

He approached her one sunny day,
And said, "We have to talk."
And as the clouds came rolling in,
She knew what he thought.

He said, "My dear, I love you so much,
But I'm afraid it has to end.
Perhaps we'd both be better off,
If we were just friends."

The meaning suddenly hit her,
And the words broke her heart.
She couldn't stand to lose him,
She couldn't stand to part.

She looked at him with tearful eyes,
And asked, "Is that what you want?"
And as he shifted from foot to foot,
She knew their love was gone.

The words repeated in her mind,
"Just friends, just friends."
She would have to stand the test of time,
A test that would never end.

He said, "I'm glad you understand,
But that's how you've always been."
And as he walked away, he heard her say,
"Just friends."

She sat at home that night,
Thinking everything through.
"How could love end so suddenly.
A love that was so true?"

He saw her the next morning,
Smiled and said, "Hello."
She wanted to hold him and love him,
But refused to let her feelings show.

She smiled back and said, "Hi."
And then she kept on walking.
As he watched her drift by,
He thought, "What was I thinking?"

He called her that very night,
And said, "It's true what they say,
You never know how much you love someone
Until they leave you one day."

She said, "I didn't leave you,
In fact, you left me."
And as the tears fell from her eyes,
She said, "Why can't you see?"

"Our love has already been slaughtered,
There is no life after death.
And if friendship is all that matters,
Then we shall be just friends."

It was his turn to cry.
He thought, "What have I done?"
"How could something like this happen?
How could I be so dumb?"

She practically read his thoughts,
And said, "My dear, don't cry.
It wouldn't have worked anyway."
And all he asked was, "Why?"

"We both want different things,
We want to lead different lives."
And as he hung up the phone,
He thought about her reply.

"Perhaps she is right," he thought.
"I don't need her."
But he knew he was lying,
They both needed each other.

He walked down the hall to the kitchen,
And then pulled out knife.
And as she sat there crying,
He ended his life.

She knew something had happened,
And she cried, "Please God, no!"
And as she ran down the street,
She yelled, "I loved him so!"

She knew she was too late
As she walked through the front door.
And there, of course, he lay,
Crumpled on the floor.

She fell forward with a sob,
And he opened his eyes.
She said, "Darling, I love you.
Darling, please don't die!"

He lifted a bloody hand,
As she put pressure on the wound.
And as he caressed her cheek,
He whispered, "I love you, too."

She became aware of the sirens.
And they took him away.
He was still alive, barely,
And she held his hand all the way.

She sat in the waiting room
And cried her heart out.
The doctor emerged from the hall
And said, "There's nothing we can do now."

She ran into the room and held his hand,
As she cried,
"If you leave me, I'm leaving with you."
And then, he died.

She walked out feeling helpless,
And ran into the street.
As the truck turned the corner,
She began to feel weak.

It was too late to run.
The truck was going forty-five.
And like her lover,
She also died.

In the paper, the headlines read,
"Two peoples lives end,
Because one thought they should be
Just friends."

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