SENSITIVE POEMS

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If Only You Were Still Alive...

I wouldn't have been this toxic
I wouldn't have been this cold-hearted
I wouldn't have been this negative
I wouldn't have been this sensitive
.....
Nonkululeko Ngcobo

Nonkululeko Ngcobo
The Years

To-night I close my eyes and see
A strange procession passing me-
The years before I saw your face
Go by me with a wistful grace;
.....

Sara Teasdale
Ego Dominus Tuus

Hic. On the grey sand beside the shallow stream
Under your old wind-beaten tower, where still
A lamp burns on beside the open book
That Michael Robartes left, you walk in the moon,
.....
William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats
Forest Moods

There is singing of birds in the deep wet woods,
In the heart of the listening solitudes,
Pewees, and thrushes, and sparrows, not few,
And all the notes of their throats are true.
.....

Archibald Lampman
To Think Of Time

To think of time, of all that retrospection!
To think of to-day, and the ages continued henceforward!

Have you guess'd you yourself would not continue?
.....
Walt Whitman

Walt Whitman
On Killing A Tree

No,
The root is to be pulled out-
Out of the anchoring earth;
It is too be roped, tired,
.....
Basudeb Srimani

Basudeb Srimani
.i Am A Woman, A Voice, A Flower

I am a woman,
And i have a sensitive soul,
My heart do enjoy the poetry,
My heart is my consciousness,
.....
Cristina Teodor

Cristina Teodor
The Hunting Of The Snark

Dedication

Inscribed to a dear Child:
in memory of golden summer hours
.....
Lewis Carroll

Lewis Carroll
An Octopus

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
.....
Marianne Moore

Marianne Moore
Memorials Of A Tour In Italy, 1837 - Xiv. - The Cuckoo At Laverna - May 25, 1837

List 'twas the Cuckoo. O with what delight
Heard I that voice! and catch it now, though faint,
Far off and faint, and melting into air,
Yet not to be mistaken. Hark again!
.....
William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth
Burns

MY OWN WILD BURNS! these rude-wrought rhymes of thine
In golden worth are like the unshapely coin
Of some new realm, yet pure as from the mineâ??
And Art may well be spared with such alloy
.....

Charles Harpur
The Animating Principle

Nowhere in the organic or sensitive world ever kindles
Novelty, save in the flower, noblest creation of life.


.....

Friedrich Schiller
Privacy

Oh you who are shy of the popular eye,
(Though most of us seek to survive it)
Just think of the goldfish who wanted to die
Because she could never be private.
.....
Robert Service

Robert Service
In A Minor Key

(AN ECHO FROM A LARGER LYRE.)


That was love that I had before
.....

Amy Levy
Saint, Revolutionist

Saint, revolutionist,
God and sage know well,
That there is a place
Where that much-rung bell,
.....
Delmore Schwartz

Delmore Schwartz
Talking Of Power And Love

Between all my torments between death and self
Between my despair and the reason for living
There is injustice and this evil of men
That I cannot accept there is my anger
.....

Paul Eluard
An Essay On Man: Epistle I.

THE DESIGN.

Having proposed to write some pieces on human life and manners, such as (to use my Lord Bacon's expression) come home to men's business and bosoms, I thought it more satisfactory to begin with considering man in the abstract, his nature and his state; since, to prove any moral duty, to enforce any moral precept, or to examine the perfection or imperfection of any creature whatsoever, it is necessary first to know what condition and relation it is placed in, and what is the proper end and purpose of its being.

.....
Alexander Pope

Alexander Pope
The Happiness Of Gods.

Living in the realm of desire,
Every living beings from small insects to largest mammals
Crave for intense pleasure but
The intense desire of happiness is self-centered,
.....
Norbu Dorji

Norbu Dorji
To The Years

To-night I close my eyes and see
A strange procession passing me--
The years before I saw your face
Go by me with a wistful grace;
.....

Sara Teasdale
The Seer

WOULD I could waken numbers, brighter, sweeter,
Than is the lark's song in the cloud above,
Then would I tell you in befitting metre,
How much the Seer is worthy of your love.
.....

Joseph Skipsey
Ego

I just didn't get it-
even with the teacher holding an orange (the earth) in one hand
and a lemon (the moon) in the other,
her favorite student (the sun) standing behind her with a flashlight.
.....

Denise Duhamel
A Stained Lily

Some lilies grew by a brook-side,
Tall and white, and cold,
And lifted up to the sunshine
Their great red hearts of gold.
.....

Madge Morris Wagner
A Geological Madrigal

I have found out a gift for my fair;
I know where the fossils abound,
Where the footprints of Aves declare
The birds that once walked on the ground.
.....
Bret Harte

Bret Harte
Legs And The Man

Alas, my dear, be you high-born,
Or just a Sydney cutie,
I fear you've earned a he-man's scorn
Thro' failing in your duty.
.....

Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
Intime

Returning, I find her just the same,
At just the same old delicate game.

Still she says: “Nay, loose no flame
.....
D. H. Lawrence

D. H. Lawrence
Kaisarion

Partly to throw light on a certain period,
partly to kill an hour or two,
last night I picked up and read
a volume of inscriptions about the Ptolemies.
.....

Constantine P. Cavafy
Sir Guy The Crusader

Sir GUY was a doughty crusader,
A muscular knight,
Ever ready to fight,
A very determined invader,
.....

William Schwenck Gilbert
What Every Woman Must Not Say

“I don't pretend I'm clever,” he remarked, “or very wise,”
And at this she murmured, “Really,” with the right polite surprise.
“But women,” he continued, “I must own I understand;
Women are a contradiction-honorable and underhand-
.....

Alice Duer Miller
Though The Bold Wings Of Poesy Affect

Though the bold wings of Poesy affect
The clouds, and wheel around the mountain tops
Rejoicing, from her loftiest height she drops
Well pleased to skim the plain with wild flowers deckt
.....
William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth
O'er Thee, Misfortune, I Have Ceased To Wail

O'er thee, Misfortune, I have ceased to wail,
I'll utter no reproaches any more.
Thank God, I'm used to griefs thou hast in store
And to the sufferings in life's strong jail.
.....
France Preseren

France Preseren
Quart Pot Creek

On an evening ramble lately, as I wandered on sedately,
Linking curious fancies, modern, mediaeval, and antiqueâ??
Suddenly the sun descended, and a radiance ruby-splendid,
With the gleam of water blended, thrilled my sensitive physiqueâ??
.....

James Brunton Stephens
How Is It That I Am Now So Softly Awakened

How is it that I am now so softly awakened,
My leaves shaken down with music?-
Darling, I love you.
It is not your mouth, for I have known mouths before,-
.....
Conrad Aiken

Conrad Aiken
Easter, 1916

I have met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
.....
William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats
To B. R. Haydon

HIGH is our calling, Friend!--Creative Art
(Whether the instrument of words she use,
Or pencil pregnant with ethereal hues,)
Demands the service of a mind and heart,
.....
William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth
Easter

I have met them at close of day
Coming with vivid faces
From counter or desk among grey
Eighteenth-century houses.
.....
William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats
On Board Ship

It's like him, of course,
this little pencil portrait.
Hurriedly sketched, on the ship's deck,
the afternoon magical,
.....

Constantine P. Cavafy
Comfortable Light

Most comfortable Light,
Light of the small lamp burning up the night,
With dawn enleagued against the beaten dark;
Pure golden perfect spark;
.....

John Freeman
Tz'u No. 6 (waiting For You)

To the tune of "Red Lips"

Lonely in my secluded chamber,
A thousand sorrows fill every inch
.....

Li Ching Chao
Lotus Hurt By The Cold

How many times, like lotus lilies risen
Upon the surface of a river, there
Have risen floating on my blood the rare
Soft glimmers of my hope escaped from prison.
.....
D. H. Lawrence

D. H. Lawrence
Lotus Hurt By The Cold

How many times, like lotus lilies risen
Upon the surface of a river, there
Have risen floating on my blood the rare
Soft glimmers of my hope escaped from prison.
.....

David Herbert Lawrence
I Am Sorry It Is Winter Now

I am sorry it is winter now,
And you can't hear mosquitoes in the house,
But you reminded yourself
Of the frivolous straw.
.....

Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
Teeth Sensitive To The Sand

Teeth sensitive to the sand
in salad greens--
I'm getting old.

.....

Matsuo Basho
Eureka - A Prose Poem (an Essay On The Material And Spiritual Universe)

It is with humility really unassumed, it is with a sentiment even of awe, that I pen the opening sentence of this work: for of all conceivable subjects I approach the reader with the most solemn, the most comprehensive, the most difficult, the most august.

What terms shall I find sufficiently simple in their sublimity -- sufficiently sublime in their simplicity, for the mere enunciation of my theme?

.....
Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe
The Stars In Their Courses

And now, while the dark vast earth shakes and rocks
In this wild dream-like snare of mortal shocks,
How look (I muse) those cold and solitary stars
On these magnificent, cruel wars?-
.....

John Freeman
Queen Mab: Part Vi (excerpts)

"Throughout these infinite orbs of mingling light,
Of which yon earth is one, is wide diffus'd
A Spirit of activity and life,
That knows no term, cessation, or decay;
.....
Percy Bysshe Shelley

Percy Bysshe Shelley
Victor Hugo

Heart of France for a hundred years,
Passionate, sensitive, proud, and strong,
Quick to throb with her hopes and fears,
Fierce to flame with her sense of wrong!
.....

Henry Van Dyke
The Tale Of A Pony

Name of my heroine, simply “Rose;”
Surname, tolerable only in prose;
Habitat, Paris,-that is where
She resided for change of air;
.....
Bret Harte

Bret Harte
The Tale Of A Pony

Name of my heroine, simply "Rose;"
Surname, tolerable only in prose;
Habitat, Paris, that is where
She resided for change of air;
.....

Bret Harte (francis)
The Snows Of Spring

O wailing gust, what hast thou brought with thee,
What sting of desolation? But an hour,
And brave was every shy new--opened flower
Smiling in sun beneath a budding tree.
.....

Robert Laurence Binyon