This page is specially prepared for gravity poems. You can reach newest and popular gravity poems from this page. You can vote and comment on the gravity poems you read.
Let's Meet Then...
Hatching marvels, thee talking instrument of maximal gravity
A bit known stranger on it, defines, “Who am I”...
Trimming me ruthlessly,
Alligating me of dire consequences,
The Prodigal Son
Here come I to my own again,
Fed, forgiven and known again,
Claimed by bone of my bone again
And cheered by flesh of my flesh.
Changes Building Up
Maybe the only thing keeping me here
The thought of never being able to exist again
I’d be long gone if it was a different concept
If existence was possible even after going six feet underground
It displays the feelings of my heart
It displays the love that I am filled with
Like those sticks and stones that represents their own broken part of us
HOW very hard it is to be
A Christian! Hard for you and me,
â??Not the mere task of making real
That duty up to its ideal,
of ice. Deceptively reserved and flat,
it lies “in grandeur and in mass”
beneath a sea of shifting snow-dunes;
dots of cyclamen-red and maroon on its clearly defined
The Great Carbuncle
We came over the moor-top
Through air streaming and green-lit,
Stone farms foundering in it,
Valleys of grass altering
Report From Paradise
In paradise the work week is fixed at thirty hours
salaries are higher prices steadily go down
manual labour is not tiring (because of reduced gravity)
chopping wood is no harder than typing
The sun went down, and the dark after it
Starred Merlin's new abode with many a sconced
And many a moving candle, in whose light
The prisoned wizard, mirrored in amazement,
Edwin Arlington Robinson
Strange gods occupied no space in that chaotic inflation of dark
or in the exponential expansion of a singular disturbance projecting
An Essay Upon Satire
By Me Dryden And The Earl Of Mulgrave, 1679.
How dull, and how insensible a beast
Is man, who yet would lord it o'er the rest!
Jack Doe met Dick Roe, whose wife he loved,
And said: 'I will get the best of him.'
So pulling a knife from his boot, he shoved
It up to the hilt in the breast of him.
'Twas a serious person with locks of gray
And a figure like a crescent;
His gravity, clearly, had come to stay,
But his smile was evanescent.
A few hours after Des Moines
the toilet overflowed.
This wasn't the adventure it sounds.
As 'tis appointed men should die,
So judgment is the next
That meets them most assuredly;
For so saith holy text.
The Beasts' Confession
To the Priest, on Observing how most Men mistake their own Talents
When beasts could speak (the learned say,
They still can do so ev'ry day),
THE FRANK COURTSHIP.
Grave Jonas Kindred, Sybil Kindred's sire,
Was six feet high, and look'd six inches higher;
Upon The Horse And His Rider
There's one rides very sagely on the road,
Showing that he affects the gravest mode.
Another rides tantivy, or full trot,
To show much gravity he matters not.
When We're All Alike
I've trudged life's highway up and down;
I've watched the lines of men march by;
I've seen them in the busy town,
And seen them under country sky;
Edgar Albert Guest
The whole chorus saying only one thing: look
at what goes, where we stand in the midst of it:
Golden eyes of the beginning, deep patience
of the end. Stone-deaf, the rocks in silence
The New Dog
Into the gravity of my life,
the serious ceremonies
of polish and paper
and pen, has come
There's something quieter than sleep
Within this inner room!
It wears a sprig upon its breast,
And will not tell its name.
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
Tom May's Death
As one put drunk into the Packet-boat,
Tom May was hurry'd hence and did not know't.
But was amaz'd on the Elysian side,
And with an Eye uncertain, gazing wide,
Dear exile from the hurrying crowd,
At work I muse to you aloud;
Thought on my anvil softens, glows,
And I forget our art has foes;
Thomas Sturge Moore
Jubilate Agno: Fragment B, Part 1
Let Elizur rejoice with the Partridge, who is a prisoner of state and is proud of his keepers.
Let Shedeur rejoice with Pyrausta, who dwelleth in a medium of fire, which God hath adapted for him.
Accursed the man, whom Fate ordains, in spite,
And cruel parents teach, to read and write!
What need of letters? wherefore should we spell?
Why write our names? A mark will do as well.
Against that time, if ever that time come,
When I shall see thee frown on my defects,
When as thy love hath cast his utmost sum,
Call'd to that audit by advised respects;
Telemachus Versus Mentor
Don't mind me, I beg you, old fellow, I'll do very well here alone;
You must not be kept from your "German" because I've dropped in like a stone.
Leave all ceremony behind you, leave all thought of aught but yourself;
And leave, if you like, the Madeira, and a dozen cigars on the shelf.
Bret Harte (francis)
On Paradise Lost.
When I beheld the Poet blind, yet bold,
In slender Book his vast Design unfold,
Messiah Crown'd, Gods Reconcil'd Decree,
Rebelling Angels, the Forbidden Tree,
Enough of Actors--let them play the player,
And, free from censure, fret, sweat, strut, and stare;
Garrick abroad, what motives can engage
To waste one couplet on a barren stage?
To My Friends
Laugh, my Friends, and without blame
Lightly quit what lightly came:
Rich to-morrow as to-day
Spend as madly as you may.