The few poems I found that I like that aren't mine
Dream
Langston Hughes
Last night I dreamt
This most strange dream,
And everywhere I saw
What did not seem could ever be:
You were not there with me!
Awake,
I turned
And touched you
Asleep,
Face to the wall.
I said,
How dreams
Can lie!
But you were not there at all!
________________________________________ _______________________
Eli, Eli
Miriam Kessler
My God, My God, he cried,
If he is quoted right…
Somehow that moan is comforting
To us, alone at night,
Who tremble, daring dawn,
That He, so wise and strong,
Should weep and ask for aid.
Somehow, my loving, distant God,
It makes me less afraid.
________________________________________ _______________________
I Celebrate Myself, And Sing Myself
Walt Whitman
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loaf and invite my soul,
I lean and loaf at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, formed from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the
same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back awhile sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.
________________________________________ ________________________
My Eyes So Soft
Hafiz
Don't surrender your loneliness so quickly
Let it cut more deep.
Let it ferment and season you
As few human or even divine ingredients can
Something missing in my heart tonight
Has made my eyes so soft
My voice so tender
My need of god
Absolutely clear.
________________________________________ _______________________
Ode to Odhner, Sylvia
Brian Smith
She was young twice.
For Tree it was the same.
When Tree was first born,
He was silly –so few leaves
Winter came with its snows
leaves were torn
But he grew nice.
He wiped his nose, on his sleeves
And wished for spring.
And it came.
And when it was done.
Again he was young.
For Sylvia it was the same.
________________________________________ _______________________
from Riding the A
May Swenson
Wheels
and rails
in their prime
collide,
make love in a glide
of slickness
and friction.
It is an elation
I wish to pro-
long.
The station
is reached
too soon.
Langston Hughes
Last night I dreamt
This most strange dream,
And everywhere I saw
What did not seem could ever be:
You were not there with me!
Awake,
I turned
And touched you
Asleep,
Face to the wall.
I said,
How dreams
Can lie!
But you were not there at all!
________________________________________
Eli, Eli
Miriam Kessler
My God, My God, he cried,
If he is quoted right…
Somehow that moan is comforting
To us, alone at night,
Who tremble, daring dawn,
That He, so wise and strong,
Should weep and ask for aid.
Somehow, my loving, distant God,
It makes me less afraid.
________________________________________
I Celebrate Myself, And Sing Myself
Walt Whitman
I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,
For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loaf and invite my soul,
I lean and loaf at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.
My tongue, every atom of my blood, formed from this soil, this air,
Born here of parents born here from parents the same, and their parents the
same,
I, now thirty-seven years old in perfect health begin,
Hoping to cease not till death.
Creeds and schools in abeyance,
Retiring back awhile sufficed at what they are, but never forgotten,
I harbor for good or bad, I permit to speak at every hazard,
Nature without check with original energy.
________________________________________
My Eyes So Soft
Hafiz
Don't surrender your loneliness so quickly
Let it cut more deep.
Let it ferment and season you
As few human or even divine ingredients can
Something missing in my heart tonight
Has made my eyes so soft
My voice so tender
My need of god
Absolutely clear.
________________________________________
Ode to Odhner, Sylvia
Brian Smith
She was young twice.
For Tree it was the same.
When Tree was first born,
He was silly –so few leaves
Winter came with its snows
leaves were torn
But he grew nice.
He wiped his nose, on his sleeves
And wished for spring.
And it came.
And when it was done.
Again he was young.
For Sylvia it was the same.
________________________________________
from Riding the A
May Swenson
Wheels
and rails
in their prime
collide,
make love in a glide
of slickness
and friction.
It is an elation
I wish to pro-
long.
The station
is reached
too soon.
