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A Poet on a Magical Journey Home
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Project Gutenberg, a huge collection of books as text, produced as a volunteer enterprise starting in 1990. This is the source of the first poetry placed on DayPoems.
Tina Blue's Beginner's Guide to Prosody, exactly what the title says, and well worth reading.
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Save Point 0.8.1, a Portland, Oregon, exhibit, Aug. 13-Sept. 5, 2004, at Disjecta.
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A dozen poems
For todayA version friendly to printer and palmtop
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Invictus, by William Ernest Henley
OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
On the Beach, by Michael Williams
At dawn, bare footed, viewing as far as eyes can reach,
the water's edge advances and recedes along the beach.
Before me I see a carpet of half-buried shells of sea-creatures,
tide washed and rippled in sodden sand along the beach.
I move, exploring, sodden sand oozing between my toes,
Only of thee and me, by Louis Untermeyere
Only of thee and me the night wind sings,
Only of us the sailors speak at sea,
The earth is filled with wondered whisperings
Only of thee and me.
Only of thee and me the breakers chant,
The Rival, by James Whitcomb Riley
I so loved once, when Death came by I hid
Away my face,
And all my sweetheart's tresses she undid
To make my hiding-place.
The dread shade passed me thus unheeding; and
My Grief on the Sea, from the Irish, by Douglas Hyde
MY grief on the sea,
How the waves of it roll!
For they heave between me
And the love of my soul!
Abandon'd, forsaken,
Prayers, by Henry Charles Beeching
GOD who created me
Nimble and light of limb,
In three elements free,
To run, to ride, to swim:
Not when the sense is dim,
Song Written at Sea, in the First Dutch War (1665), the night before an Engagement., by Charles Sackville, Earl of Dorset
TO all you ladies now at land
We men at sea indite;
But first would have you understand
How hard it is to write:
The Muses now, and Neptune too,
Ode to Psyche, by John Keats
O GODDESS! hear these tuneless numbers, wrung
By sweet enforcement and remembrance dear,
And pardon that thy secrets should be sung
Even into thine own soft-conched ear:
Surely I dream'd to-day, or did I see
Phillida and Coridon, by Nicholas Breton
IN the merry month of May,
In a morn by break of day,
Forth I walk'd by the wood-side
When as May was in his pride:
There I spied all alone
To Death, by Caroline Southey
COME not in terrors clad, to claim
An unresisting prey:
Come like an evening shadow, Death!
So stealthily, so silently!
And shut mine eyes, and steal my breath;
The Silent Lover i, by Sir Walter Raleigh
PASSIONS are liken'd best to floods and streams:
The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb;
So, when affection yields discourse, it seems
The bottom is but shallow whence they come.
They that are rich in words, in words discover
The Saga of the Descent, by Cullyn Ullrson
This poem was written regarding a true event in modern times in the Old Icelandic Saga style of the 10th C. It commemorates the completion of a promise made to my grandfather after his death earlier this year.
Bersarker mourns loss as kinsman is passing.
Hella is called through blot
A deal is made, an easy passing for sacrifice
A challenge is accepted.
The DayPoems web site, www.daypoems.net, is copyright 2001-2012 by Timothy Keith Bovee. All rights reserved.
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