LEVEL POEMS
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Underestimated
It's hard that you keep being underestimated,
People see you as an outsider, or far from their level.
Racism under their state of mind,
They judged at you for being poor,
.....
Richmond Gellez
Youth
If I had youth I'd bid the world to try me;
I'd answer every challenge to my will.
Though mountains stood in silence to defy me,
I'd try to make them subject to my skill.
.....
Edgar Albert Guest
Leda
Where the slow river
meets the tide,
a red swan lifts red wings
and darker beak,
.....
Hilda Doolittle
The Colder The Air
We must admire her perfect aim,
this huntress of the winter air
whose level weapon needs no sight,
if it were not that everywhere
.....
Elizabeth Bishop
Smart
Being clean, tidy & well dressed,
Is a outer sense,
Clever, sharp, & intelligent
Is an inner understanding of smart.
.....
Norbu Dorji
Welcome Son
I welcome you my son on earth
More especially in this continent of Africa
In a village of which her people are only warm to foreigners
Feel free my son, I am here for you
.....
Blessed-grant Rodi
The Prairie
The skies are blue above my head,
The prairie green below,
And flickering o'er the tufted grass
The shifting shadows go,
.....
John Hay
The Odyssey: Book 09
And Ulysses answered, “King Alcinous, it is a good thing to hear a
bard with such a divine voice as this man has. There is nothing better
or more delightful than when a whole people make merry together,
with the guests sitting orderly to listen, while the table is loaded
.....
Homer
The Village Green
ON the cheerful village green,
Skirted round with houses small,
All the boys and girls are seen,
Playing there with hoop and ball.
.....
Ann Taylor
Endymion: Book Iii
There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men
With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen
Their baaing vanities, to browse away
The comfortable green and juicy hay
.....
John Keats
Endymion: Book Iv
Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse!
O first-born on the mountains! by the hues
Of heaven on the spiritual air begot:
Long didst thou sit alone in northern grot,
.....
John Keats
Leda
Where the slow river
meets the tide,
a red swan lifts red wings
and darker beak,
.....
H. D.
Fair Weather
This level reach of blue is not my sea;
Here are sweet waters, pretty in the sun,
Whose quiet ripples meet obediently
A marked and measured line, one after one.
.....
Dorothy Parker
The House Of Splendour
â??Tis Evanoe's,
A house not made with hands,
But out somewhere beyond the worldly ways
Her gold is spread, above, around, inwoven;
.....
Ezra Pound
Near Perigord
I
You'd have men's hearts up from the dust
And tell their secrets, Messire Cino,
Rigkt enough? Then read between the lines of Uc St. Circ,
.....
Ezra Pound
To The Butterfly.
Lovely insect, haste away,
Greet once more the sunny day;
Leave, O leave the murky barn,
Ere trapping spiders thee discern;
.....
John Clare
Anger
A feeling of disgust,
Going against our will,
Unable to tolerate,
Makes us feel annoyed.
.....
Norbu Dorji
Hyperion: Book Ii
Just at the self-same beat of Time's wide wings
Hyperion slid into the rustled air,
And Saturn gain'd with Thea that sad place
Where Cybele and the bruised Titans mourn'd.
.....
John Keats
The Odyssey: Book 05
And now, as Dawn rose from her couch beside Tithonus-harbinger of
light alike to mortals and immortals-the gods met in council and with
them, Jove the lord of thunder, who is their king. Thereon Minerva
began to tell them of the many sufferings of Ulysses, for she pitied
.....
Homer
Humanitad
It is full winter now: the trees are bare,
Save where the cattle huddle from the cold
Beneath the pine, for it doth never wear
The autumn's gaudy livery whose gold
.....
Oscar Wilde
Thersites
So, in the Sunday papers _you_, Del Mar,
Damn, all great Englishmen in English speech?
I am no Englishman, but in my reach
A rogue shall never rail where heroes are.
.....
Ambrose Bierce
Graydigger's Home
Paw marks near one burrow show Graydigger
at home, I bend low, from down there swivel
my head, grasstop level--the world
goes on forever, the mountains a bigger
.....
William Stafford
Brennbaum
The sky-like limpid eyes,
The circular infant's face,
The stiffness from spats to collar
Never relaxing into grace;
.....
Ezra Pound
Wolves
I do not want to be reflective any more
Envying and despising unreflective things
Finding pathos in dogs and undeveloped handwriting
And young girls doing their hair and all the castles of sand
.....
Louis Macneice
The Few
The easy roads are crowded
And the level roads are jammed;
The pleasant little rivers
With the drifting folks are crammed.
.....
Edgar Albert Guest
Mariana
With blackest moss the flower-plots
Were thickly crusted, one and all:
The rusted nails fell from the knots
That held the pear to the gable-wall.
.....
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Battle Bunny
“After the men were ordered to lie down, a white rabbit,
which had been hopping hither and thither over the field
swept by grape and musketry, took refuge among the
skirmishers, in the breast of a corporal.”-Report
.....
Bret Harte
Adventure
Crossing swollen streams & rivers,
Climbing glacier mountains and passes,
Crawl over the cliffs & slope,
Sleeping under the trees and caves,
.....
Norbu Dorji
Lake Superior
Father of Lakes! thy waters bend,
Beyond the eagle's utmost view,
When, throned in heaven, he sees thee send
Back to the sky its world of blue.
.....
Sam G. Goodrich
At Putney
When eight strong fellows are out to row,
With a slip of a lad to guide them,
I warrant they'll make the light ship go,
Though the coach on the launch may chide them,
.....
R. C. Lehmann
Ode To Rae Wilson Esq.
A WANDERER, Wilson, from my native land,
Remote, O Rae, from godliness and thee,
Where rolls between us the eternal sea,
Besides some furlongs of a foreign sand,â??
.....
Thomas Hood
Ode On Venice
I.
Oh Venice! Venice! when thy marble walls
Are level with the waters, there shall be
A cry of nations o'er thy sunken halls,
.....
George Gordon Byron
Indicted
Dear Bruner, once we had a little talk
(That is to say, 'twas I did all the talking)
About the manner of your moral walk:
How devious the trail you made in stalking,
.....
Ambrose Bierce
Teignmouth
I.
Here all the summer could I stay,
For there's Bishop's teign
And King's teign
.....
John Keats