EXPENSIVE POEMS
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What Is Love
The funny humanity of today breaks hearts
All we want is to be seen in the internet
All she wants is to wear an expensive ring
My heart is pure yet she forgets that
.....
Ibthlhal Abdul
Absalom And Achitophel
In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin,
Before polygamy was made a sin;
When man, on many, multipli'd his kind,
Ere one to one was cursedly confin'd:
.....
John Dryden
The Hermit
Far in a wild, unknown to public view,
From youth to age a rev'rend hermit grew;
The moss his bed, the cave his humble cell,
His food the fruits, his drink the crystal well:
.....
Thomas Parnell
Alone
Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
.....
Maya Angelou
Musée Des Beaux Arts
About suffering they were never wrong,
The Old Masters; how well, they understood
Its human position; how it takes place
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;
.....
W. H. Auden
Decalogue
Thou shalt no God but me adore:
'Twere too expensive to have more.
No images nor idols make
.....
Ambrose Bierce
That The Soul May Wax Plump
My dumpy little mother on the undertaker's slab
had a mannequin's grace. From chin to foot
the sheet outlined her, thin and tall. Her face
uptilted, bloodless, smooth, had a long smile.
.....
May Swenson
To Maecenas
Than you, O valued friend of mine,
A better patron _non est_!
Come, quaff my home-made Sabine wine,--
You'll find it poor but honest.
.....
Eugene Field
On No Work Of Words
On no work of words now for three lean months in the
bloody
Belly of the rich year and the big purse of my body
I bitterly take to task my poverty and craft:
.....
Dylan Thomas
A Day Without Internet
We humans have the power to sustain anything.
Whether it is an expensive watch or a diamond ring.
But, when it comes to communication lack,
We so keen, try every possible hack.
.....
Priyadarshini Goel
The Toucher
He was a jobbing hand from the printers' flat. His name was Raymond Cato, but he acquired "Toucher" as a complimentary title when we knew him better. He was tall, sallow, languid and distressingly impecunious. I put it that way because Mr Cato's impecuniosity was more a trait of character than the result of misfortune. He was the sort of young man who would have been impecunious had he been born to ten thousand a year. He was slovenly in his dress, and his trousers were always worn to strings at the heels, and this fringe collected various foreign bodies, which dragged after him as be walked, Raymond being too languid or too indifferent to shake them off. You got to know when Toucher was coming by the clatter of vagrant articles attached to his trousers fringe. He once towed a disused fish-tin after him through a whole hot afternoon. That will give you an idea of the sort of person Raymond Cato was. But this depraved young man, while apparently sleeping against a case, could paw type with miraculous speed and precision, and he handled the most intricate jobs with absolute certainty when under the influence of two buckets of very bad beer.
Mr Cato had only been ten days in the factory when be came to the packer's board and leaned there. There were two peach-nuts, a metal rule, and the rind off a tin of red ink dangling at his fetlock. He passed his hand wearily over his brow, brushing back his long, black hair, and rested his eyes on the packer. Raymond's eyes were large and dark, and suffused with an overwhelming sadness. The Toucher owed his success largely to those appealing eyes.
.....
Edward Dyson
John Bull - Prose
An old song, made by an aged old pate,
Of an old worshipful gentleman who had a great estate,
That kept a brave old house at a bountiful rate,
And an old porter to relieve the poor at his gate.
.....
Washington Irving
The Magnificent
SOME wit, handsome form and gen'rous mind;
A triple engine prove in love we find;
By these the strongest fortresses are gained
E'en rocks 'gainst such can never be sustained.
.....
Jean De La Fontaine
Contemplating Hell
Contemplating Hell, as I once heard it,
My brother Shelley found it to be a place
Much like the city of London. I,
Who do not live in London, but in Los Angeles,
.....
Bertolt Brecht
To My Lord Colrane
In Answer to his Complemental Verses sent me under the Name of CLEANOR.
Long my dull Muse in heavy slumbers lay,
Indulging Sloth, and to soft Ease gave way,
.....
Anne Killigrew
The Woes Of Bill
Once upon a recent even, as I lay in fitful slumber,
Weaving dreams and seeing visions vague and utterly absurd,
Suddenly I seemed to waken, somewhat scared and rather shaken,
For I thought my name was mentioned, coupled with - 'a certain word.'
.....
Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
My Angry Cat
You're repeating yourself
for the twentieth time.
Is there another man in my life?
Yes. Yes. What did you think?
.....
Nizar Qabbani
Dressing The Doll
THIS is the way we dress the Doll:â??
You may make her a shepherdess, the Doll,
If you give her a crook with a pastoral hook,
But this is the way we dress the Doll.
.....
William Brighty Rands
Exeat
I remember the Roman Emperor, one of the cruellest of them,
Who used to visit for pleasure his poor prisoners cramped in dungeons,
So then they would beg him for death, and then he would say:
Oh no, oh no, we are not yet friends enough.
.....
Stevie Smith
Conscription Camp
Your landscape sickens with a dry disease
Even in May, Virginia, and your sweet pines
Like Frenchmen runted in a hundred wars
Are of a childâ??s height in these battlefields.
.....
Karl Shapiro
The Voice Of Robert Desnos
So like a flower and a current of air
the flow of water fleeting shadows
the smile glimpsed at midnight this excellent evening
so like every joy and every sadness
.....
Robert Desnos
Suitcase
Its silver clasp looks like a man grasping
his hands above his head in victory;
the latches, like twin hatchbacks headed away.
.....
Charles Harper Webb
The German Hotel
the German hotel was very strange and expensive and had
double doors to the rooms, very thick doors, and it over-
looked the park and the vasser tern and in the mornings
it was usually too late for breakfast and the maids
.....
Charles Bukowski