All Poems
/ page 2540 of 3210 /
On Handphones
© Sukasah Syahdan
Shouting alone on the streets
used to be free, until they
invented handphones.
Sonnet V. (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
Lady! It cannot be, but that thine eyes
Must be my sun, such radiance they display
Sunset In Autumn
© Madison Julius Cawein
Blood-coloured oaks, that stand against a sky of gold and brass;
Gaunt slopes, on which the bleak leaves glow of brier and sassafras,
And broom-sedge strips of smoky pink and pearl-gray clumps of grass,
In which, beneath the ragged sky, the rain-pools gleam like glass.
On Nothing's New
© Sukasah Syahdan
Those who say nothing's new
under the olden sun have never laid eyes
on my wart.
Songs Of The Imprisoned Naiad
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
"WOE! woe is me! the centuries pass away,
The mortal seasons run their ceaseless rounds,
While here I wither for the sunbright day,
Its genial sights and sounds.
Woe! woe is me!
Friends
© Arthur Rimbaud
Come, the Wines are off to the seaside,
and the waves by the million!
Look at wild Bitter rolling from the mountain tops!
Let us reach, like good pilgrims, green-pillared Absinthe
The Ferry
© Edith Nesbit
DRAW close the curtains, and shut out
The spring's green glow and glitter;
The resurrection-life of spring
To me brings no fresh blossoming;
I'm wearied of the flowers about--
The London sparrows' twitter.
On Thinking Faculty
© Sukasah Syahdan
One sorriest thing in life is our capacity
with which we think that we think.
Some do it with brains, some with hearts,
some stomachs, and some genitals.
The Marriage Of Tirzah And Ahirad
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
Round the dark curtains of the fiery throne
Pauses awhile the voice of sacred song:
From all the angelic ranks goes forth a groan,
'How long, O Lord, how long?'
The still small voice makes answer, 'Wait and see,
Oh sons of glory, what the end shall be.'
Belitung
© Sukasah Syahdan
Majestic rocks from millions of years ancient
Bystanders of earthly silent evolution
Are in themselves untold stories
Of an ever-lasting beauty that is this beach
That the hands of time would only caress
And praises from our lips would never cease
The Children
© Rudyard Kipling
They bought us anew with their blood, forbearing to blame us,
Those hours which we had not made good when the Judgment o'ercame us.
They believed us and perished for it. Our statecraft, our learning
Delivered them bound to the Pit and alive to the burning
Whither they mirthfully hastened as jostling for honour.
Not since her birth has our Earth seen such worth loosed upon her!
To Whom Words Are Mightier
© Sukasah Syahdan
To whom words are mightier than swords
be wary, for words may merely be as shorter
than swords as our untimely departure
On A Fowler, By Isidorus
© William Cowper
With seeds and birdlime, from the desert air,
Eumelus gather'd free, though scanty fare.
Be Not Too Proud
© Sukasah Syahdan
Though Thou succeeded finally
in shunning his mortal body
with every beat of my heart
he shall be living eternally
My Heart Was Full
© Stevie Smith
My heart was full of softening showers,
I used to swing like this for hours,
I did not care for war or death,
I was glad to draw my breath.
