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New Offeringsfrom the Editor
Two new offerings from the editor...
Feathered Chalice
Conjugating the Edge of Is
DayPoems Favorites
PORT: An Online Visual Arts Journal
A Poet on a Magical Journey Home
Chronicles of a Sea Woman
Parallels Studio
Bipolar Poetry
Mantra.X
Poetry, Film and Books
Poetry Archive
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.
popomo.net, miniature, minimalist-inspired sculptures created from industrial cereamics, an art project at Lewis and Clark College in Portland, Oregon.
pink.popomo.net, More projects from Portland
oarena.net, Furby, Eliza, Mr_Friss and Miss_Friss.
Save Point 0.8.1, a Portland, Oregon, exhibit, Aug. 13-Sept. 5, 2004, at Disjecta.
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A dozen poems
For May 9, 2008A version friendly to printer and palmtop
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The Blessed Damozel, by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
THE blessed Damozel lean'd out
From the gold bar of Heaven:
Her blue grave eyes were deeper much
Than a deep water, even.
She had three lilies in her hand,
Copyright 2003-2004 by Spring Allegro. All rights reserved.
Words In A Book, by TomsPoems
When I see you do you see me,
it's a simple thing to do.
Just don't squint for a moment,
until our gaze is through.
You may see landscapes in my eyes,
The Appeal: An Earnest Suit to his Unkind Mistress, not to Forsake him, by Sir Thomas Wyatt
AND wilt thou leave me thus!
Say nay, say nay, for shame!
--To save thee from the blame
Of all my grief and grame.
And wilt thou leave me thus?
Romance, by Christopher John Brennan
Of old, on her terrace at evening
...not here...in some long-gone kingdom
O, folded close to her breast!...
--our gaze dwelt wide on the blackness
(was it trees? or a shadowy passion
Joe Hill, by Alfred Hayes
I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night
Alive as you or me
Says I, But Joe, you're ten years dead
I never died, says he
I never died, says he
A Litany, by Phineas Fletcher
DROP, drop, slow tears,
And bathe those beauteous feet
Which brought from Heaven
The news and Prince of Peace:
Cease not, wet eyes,
The Song of Tigilau, by Marcus Clarke
The song of Tigilau the brave,
Sina's wild lover,
Who across the heaving wave
From Samoa came over:
Came over, Sina, at the setting moon!
The Burial of Sir John Moore after Corunna, by Charles Wolfe
NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
As his corse to the rampart we hurried;
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
We buried him darkly at dead of night,
Acceptance, by Willard Wattles
I cannot think nor reason,
I only know he came
With hands and feet of healing
And wild heart all aflame.
With eyes that dimmed and softened
A Duet, by T. Sturge Moore
'FLOWERS nodding gaily, scent in air,
Flowers posied, flowers for the hair,
Sleepy flowers, flowers bold to stare----'
'O pick me some!'
'Shells with lip, or tooth, or bleeding gum,
Jolly Good Ale and Old, by William Stevenson
I CANNOT eat but little meat,
My stomach is not good;
But sure I think that I can drink
With him that wears a hood.
Though I go bare, take ye no care,
This Place Called Home, by Peter E Adotey Addo
Sometimes my memory corrodes my mind
But there are parts I know it cannot change.
Sometimes I may deny past the hour of dawn.
Perhaps these are just partial images passing through.
Where I once lived someone lives there now
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