From on Being Fired Again Poetry 180
We present to your attending a selection of laconic poems by famous English language and American poets. The poems will open the globe of nice, tender feelings and philosophical outlook on life, vivid cheerful jokes and witty English humor to you. Curt poems are easy to read and memorize.
George Gordon Byron
Sun of the sleepless! melancholy star!
Whose tearful beam glows tremulously far,
That show'st the darkness thou canst not dispel,
How like fine art thou to Joy remember'd well!
And then gleams the past, the light of other days,
Which shines, but warms not with its powerless rays;
A night-beam Sorrow watcheth to behold,
Distinct, but distant – clear, but oh, how common cold!
Alfred Edward Housman
It nods and curtseys and recovers
When the wind blows to a higher place,
The nettle on the graves of lovers
That hanged themselves for dearest.
The nettle nods, the wind blows over,
The homo, he does not movement,
The lover of the grave, the lover
That hanged himself for love.
***
Oh, when I was in beloved with yous,
So I was make clean and brave,
And miles around the wonder grew
How well did I behave.
And now the fancy passes by,
And zippo volition remain,
And miles effectually they'll say that I
Am quite myself again.
When I came concluding to Ludlow
Among the moonlight pale,
Two friends kept step abreast me,
Two honest lads and unhurt.
At present Dick lies long in the churchyard,
And Ned lies long in jail,
And I come up dwelling to Ludlow
Amidst the moonlight pale.
***
Oh on my breast in days hereafter
Lite the earth should lie,
Such weight to conduct is now the air,
And so heavy hangs the sky.
Hilaire Belloc
The Big Baboon
The Large Baboon is found upon
The plains of Cariboo;
He goes about with zippo on
(A shocking thing to practice.)
Simply if he dressed respectably
And let his whiskers grow
How like this Big Baboon would exist
To Mister So-and-So!
Walter de la Mare
The Horseman
I heard a horseman
Ride over the colina;
The moon shone articulate,
The night was notwithstanding;
His helm was silver,
And pale was he;
And the horse he rode
Was of ivory.
***
Hide and Seek
Hibernate and seek, says the Air current,
In the shade of the wood;
Hibernate and seek, says the Moon,
To the hazel buds;
Hide and seek, says the Cloud,
Star on to star;
Hide and seek, says the Moving ridge
At the harbour bar;
Hide and seek, says I,
To myself, and footstep
Out of the dream of Wake
Into the dream of Sleep.
T. E. Hulme
Autumn
A bear on of common cold in the Autumn night —
I walked abroad,
And saw the blood-red moon lean over a hedge
Like a cerise-faced farmer.
I did not stop to speak, simply nodded,
And circular near were the contemplative stars
With white faces like town children.
***
The embankment
(The fantasia of a fallen admirer on a cold, bitter night)
One time, in finesse of fiddles institute I ecstasy,
In a wink of gold heels on the difficult pavement.
Now see I
That warmth'southward the very stuff of poetry.
Oh, God, make small
The quondam star-eaten coating of the sky,
That I may fold it round me and in condolement lie.
Richard Aldington
To Those Who Played for Safety in Life
I as well might have worn starched cuffs,
Have gulped my morning meal in haste,
Take clothed myself in dismal staffs
Which prove a sober City gustatory modality;
I too might have rocked and craned
In undergrounds for daily news,
And watched my soul grow slowly stained
To eye-class unsightly hues...
I might accept earned ten pounds a week!
Richard Church
The Last Liberty
The bullheaded human being, when the skylark shakes
Trill over trill from the blueish above,
Stares upward and from darkness wakes
Through sockets eloquent with love.
If our defective senses thus
Kindle at glories half-divined,
What of the joy awaiting us
When decease brings freedom to the heed?
George Barker
Summer Song 2
Soft is the coolied dark, and cool
These regions where the dreamers rule,
Every bit Summertime, in her rose and robe,
Astride the horses of the globe,
Drags, fighting, from the midnight sky,
The mushroom at whose glance nosotros die.
Philip Larkin
Pour away that youth
That overflows the heart
Into hair and mouth;
Take the grave's role,
Tell the bone's truth.
Throw away that youth
That gem in the head
That bronze in the breath;
Walk with the dead
For fear of death.
***
Inside the dream you said:
Permit united states of america osculation then,
In this room, in this bed,
But when all's washed
We must non meet again.
Hearing this last word,
There was no lambing-night,
No gale-driven bird
Nor frost-encircled root
As cold as my heart.
Home is then sad. It stays as information technology was left,
Shaped to the comfort of the final to get
As if to win them back. Instead, insufficient
Of anyone to please, it withers so,
Having no heart to put bated the theft
And turn again to what it started as,
A joyous shot at how things ought to be,
Long fallen wide. You tin can see how information technology was:
Wait at the pictures and the cutlery.
The music in the piano stool. That vase.
Ted Hughes
Kafka
And he is an owl
He is an owl, "Man" tattooed in his armpit
Under the broken wing
(Stunned past the wall of glare, he fell here)
Nether the broken fly of huge shadow that twitches beyond the floor.
He is a man in hopeless feathers.
Brian Patten
A Talk with a Woods
Moving through you ane evening
when you offered shelter to
quiet things soaked in pelting
I saw through your thinning branches
the beginnings of suburbs, and
frightened by the rain,
gray hares running upright in
afar fields, and quite lonely there
thought of nada just my footprints
existence filled, and love, distilled
of people, drifted costless, and and so
the woods spoke with me.
William Butler Yeats
He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silvery light,
The blue and the dim and the nighttime cloths
Of night and low-cal and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
Simply I, being poor, accept only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams nether your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
James Joyce
The twilight turns from amethyst
To deep and deeper blue,
The lamp fills with a stake green glow
The trees of the avenue.
The old piano plays an air,
Sedate and irksome and gay;
She bends upon the yellow keys,
Her head inclines this way.
Shy thoughts and grave broad eyes and hands
That wander as they list —
The twilight turns to darker blue
With lights of amethyst.
***
Simples
O bella bionda,
Sei come l'onda!
Of cool sweet dew and radiance balmy
The moon a web of silence weaves
In the still garden where a kid
Gathers the simple salad leaves.
A moondew stars her hanging hair
And moonlight kisses her young brow
And, gathering, she sings an air:
Fair as the wave is, fair, art 1000!
Be mine, I pray, a waxen ear
To shield me from her childish croon
And mine a shielded eye for her
Who gathers simples of the moon.
Walt Whitman
I dream'd in a dream I saw a city invincible to the attacks of the
whole of the balance of the earth,
I dream'd that was the new city of Friends,
Zero was greater at that place than the quality of robust beloved, it led
the rest,
It was seen every hour in the deportment of the men of that city,
And in all their looks and words.
Emily Dickinson
Which lead the seasons past,
Needs merely to remember
That from you lot or I,
They may take the trifle
Termed bloodshed!
To invest existence with a stately air
Needs simply to remember
That the acorn there
Is the egg of forests
For the upper air!
***
If I shouldn't be live
When the Robins come,
Requite the one in Red Cravat,
A Memorial crumb.
If I couldn't thank yous,
Being fast asleep,
Yous will know I'grand trying
With my Granite lip!
***
I'm Nobody! Who are you?
Are you — Nobody — too?
Then at that place's a pair of u.s.a.!
Don't tell! They'd blackball us — yous know!
How dreary — to be — Somebody!
How public — similar a Frog —
To tell your name — the livelong June —
To an admiring Bog!
***
Center! We will forget him!
You and I - this night!
You may forget the
Warmth he gave -
I will forget the Calorie-free!
When you accept done, pray tell me
That I may straight begin!
Haste! lest while you're lagging
I may remember him!
This is my letter to the Earth
That never wrote to Me —
The simple News that Nature told —
With tender Majesty
Her Bulletin is committed
To Easily I cannot see —
For beloved of Her — Sweet — countrymen —
Judge tenderly — of Me
***
If I tin stop one Heart from breaking
shall not alive in vain
If I can ease one Life the Aching
Or absurd one Pain
Or help ane fainting Robin
Unto his Nest again
I shall non live in Vain.
***
I never saw a Moor —
I never saw the Sea —
Nonetheless know I how the Heather looks
And what a Billow exist.
I never spoke with God
Nor visited in Sky —
Yet certain am I of the spot
As if the Checks were given —
Carl Sandburg
Express
I am riding on a limited express, one of the crack trains
of the nation.
Hurtling beyond the prairie into blue brume and dark air go
fifteen all-steel coaches holding a thousand people.
(All the coaches shall be bit and rust and all the men and
women laughing in the diners and sleepers shall pass to
ashes.)
I inquire a human in the smoker where he is going and he answers:
"Omaha."
***
Prayers of Steel
Lay me on an anvil, O God.
Beat me and hammer me into a crowbar.
Permit me pry loose onetime walls.
Allow me lift and loosen old foundations.
Lay me on an anvil, O God.
Shell me and hammer me into a steel fasten.
Drive me into the girders that hold a skyscraper together.
Have red-hot rivets and spike me into the central girders.
Let me be the keen blast holding a skyscraper through blueish
nights into white stars.
Robert Frost
The Pasture
I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;
I'll simply stop to rake the leaves away
(And expect to watch the h2o articulate, I may):
I sha'n't be gone long. — You come too.
I'm going out to fetch the little calf
That's continuing by the mother. It's so young,
It totters when she licks it with her tongue.
I sha'n't be gone long. — You come also.
***
Fire and Ice
Some say the globe will finish in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I agree with those who favor burn down.
Just if information technology had to perish twice,
I recollect I know enough of detest
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Walter Lowenfels
Message from Bert Brecht
And don't think
art
is that actor over there
talking
to that other 1
upstage
He'southward the tertiary ane
you don't encounter
talking
to that other one
you lot can't hear
offstage
Langston Hughes
Porter
I must say
Yes, sir,
To you all the time.
Yes, sir!
Yes, sir!
All my days
Climbing up a slap-up large mountain
Of yeah, sirs!
Rich erstwhile white man
Owns the globe
Gimme yo' shoes
To shine
Aye, sir!
Edward Lear
At that place was an Erstwhile Human being of Dumbree,
Who taught little Owls to potable Tea;
For he said, "To eat mice
Is not proper or dainty,"
That amiable Human being of Dumbree.
***
At that place was on Old Homo of the Isles,
Whose confront was pervaded with smiles;
He sung high dum diddle,
And played on the fiddle,
That amiable Man of the Isles.
Lewis Carroll
At that place was an eccentric old draper,
Who wore a hat made of brown paper,
Information technology went up to a point,
Yet it looked out of joint,
The cause of which he said was "vapour."
***
There was once a boyfriend of Oporta,
Who daily got shorter and shorter,
The reason he said
Was the hod on his head,
Which was filled with the heaviest mortar.
His sister named Lucy O'Finner,
Grew constantly thinner and thinner,
The reason was patently,
She slept out in the rain,
And was never allowed whatever dinner.
John Donne
The Expiration
And then, so, interruption off this last lamenting kiss,
Which sucks two souls, and vapors both away,
Turn thou ghost that style, and allow me turn this,
And allow our selves benight our happiest twenty-four hours,
We ask none get out to love; nor will nosotros owe
Whatsoever, so cheap a death, as saying, Go;
Go; and if that word have not quite kil'd thee,
Ease me with death, past bidding me get too.
Oh, if information technology have, let my give-and-take work on me,
And a merely office on a murderer do.
Except it exist too late, to kill me so,
Being double dead, going, and bidding, go.
Maya Angelou
Passing Time
Your skin like dawn
Mine like musk
I paints the outset
of a certain cease.
The other, the stop of a
sure start.
William Shakespeare
Sonnet 116. Permit me not to the marriage of true minds
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Acknowledge impediments, love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
O no, information technology is an e'er-stock-still mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'band bark,
Whose worth'south unknown, although his summit exist taken.
Love's not Time'due south fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come,
Love alters non with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out fifty-fifty to the edge of doom:
If this be mistake and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no homo ever loved.
Edgar Allan Poe
An Acrostic
Elizabeth it is in vain you say
"Love not"—one thousand sayest information technology in and then sweetness a way:
In vain those words from thee or L. E. Fifty.
Zantippe's talents had enforced and so well:
Ah! if that language from thy middle ascend,
Breathe it less gently forth—and veil thine eyes.
Endymion, recollect, when Luna tried
To cure his love—was cured of all abreast—
His folly—pride—and passion—for he died.
William Blake
Epigram
You say their Pictures well Painted be,
And yet they are Blockheads you all agree,
Thank God, I never was sent to School
To be Flogg'd into following the Stile of a Fool.
The Errors of a Wise Man make your Rule
Rather than the Perfections of a Fool.
Eternity
He who binds to himself a joy
Does the winged life destroy;
Only he who kisses the joy equally it flies
Lives in eternity'south dominicus ascension.
***
All pictures that'southward panted with sense and with thought
Are panted past madmen, as certain as a groat;
For the greater the fool is the pencil more blessed,
As when they are drunk they always pant best.
They never can Raphael it, Fuseli it, nor Blake information technology;
If they can't meet an outline, pray how can they make it?
When men volition describe outlines begin you to jaw them;
Madmen encounter outlines and therefore they draw them.
Wystan Hugh Auden
Epitaph on a Tyrant
Perfection, of a kind, was what he was after,
And the poesy he invented was easy to understand;
He knew man folly like the dorsum of his manus,
And was greatly interested in armies and fleets;
When he laughed, respectable senators burst with laughter,
And when he cried the little children died in the streets.
Thomas Stearns Eliot
The Boston Evening Transcript
The readers of the Boston Evening Transcript
Sway in the wind similar a field of ripe corn.
When evening quickens faintly in the street,
Wakening the appetites of life in some
And to others bringing the Boston Evening Transcript,
I mount the steps and band the bong, turning
Wearily, every bit 1 would turn to nod good-bye to Rochefoucauld,
If the street were time and he at the stop of the street,
And I say, "Cousin Harriet, here is the Boston Evening Transcript."
Oscar Wilde
Theoretikos
This mighty empire hath simply anxiety of clay:
Of all its ancient chivalry and might
Our footling isle is forsake quite:
Some enemy hath stolen its crown of bay,
And from its hills that vox hath passed away
Which spake of Freedom: O come up out of it,
Come up out of information technology my Soul, thou art not fit
For this vile traffic-business firm, where 24-hour interval by 24-hour interval
Wisdom and reverence are sold at mart,
And the rude people rage with ignorant cries
Against an heritage of centuries.
Information technology mars my calm: wherefore in dreams of Art
And loftiest civilization I would stand up apart,
Neither for God, nor for his enemies.
Source: https://md-eksperiment.org/post/20210120-short-poems-in-english
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