SUBSTANCE POEMS

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Michael: A Pastoral Poem

If from the public way you turn your steps
Up the tumultuous brook of Green-head Ghyll,
You will suppose that with an upright path
Your feet must struggle; in such bold ascent
.....
William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth
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.
.....
Rudyard Kipling

Rudyard Kipling
A Bronze Head

Here at right of the entrance this bronze head,
Human, superhuman, a bird's round eye,
Everything else withered and mummy-dead.
What great tomb-haunter sweeps the distant sky
.....
William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats
The Soul's Superior Instants

306

The Soul's Superior instants
Occur to Her—alone—
.....
Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson
Light Up The Fire

I gaze into the heart, lowly it may be,
Thought the words be higher still.
For the heart is all the substance,
The speech an accident.
.....

Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
Sonnet 005: Those Hours, That With Gentle Work Did Frame

Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly doth excel;
.....
William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare
Poems For Piraye (9 To 10 O-clock Poems)

Remembering you is good
in prison
amid the news
of victory and death
.....

Nazim Hikmet
Euphoric Thirst.

Nine months in my mother's womb was the most wonderful phase of her life, And my first step into the unknown then- Was the most beautiful moment she cherished; Unawareness and uncertainties my future held- Yet she did all that she could do to make it bright and beautiful. But only if dreams could turn into reality, I would have been a better child to her then;
I shattered her hopes and dreams- Compelled her to walk the path of guilt and shame, And now she only
sits wondering, where she went wrong, That transformed me to a person who now hardly remembers Mother's sweet songs.
Importance of my life has vanished, In the fog of wants and selfishness- Getting high and getting my kicks, Are the things that I now only embrace; I steal, I cheat and manipulate, Just to get the substance of my choice, I do weird and unsocial acts- Just to satisfy my Euphoric Thirst.
.....
Saraldeep Tamang

Saraldeep Tamang
Young Democracy

HARK! Young Democracy from sleep
Our careless sentries raps:
A backwash from the Futureâ??s deep
Our Evilâ??s foreland laps.
.....

Bernard O'dowd
Sonnet 037: As A Decrepit Father Takes Delight

As a decrepit father takes delight
To see his active child do deeds of youth,
So I, made lame by Fortune's dearest spite,
Take all my comfort of thy worth and truth.
.....
William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare
The Poor

I walk the streets and though not meanly drest,
Yet none so poor as can with me compare;
For none though weary call me into rest,
And though I hunger, none their substance share;
.....

Jones Very
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
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 Alchemist

I burned my life, that I might find
A passion wholly of the mind,
Thought divorced from eye and bone,
Ecstasy come to breath alone.
.....

Louise Bogan
From A German War Primer

AMONGST THE HIGHLY PLACED
It is considered low to talk about food.
The fact is: they have
Already eaten.
.....

Bertolt Brecht
The Farewell

_P_. Farewell to Europe, and at once farewell
To all the follies which in Europe dwell;
To Eastern India now, a richer clime,
Richer, alas! in everything but rhyme,
.....

Charles Churchill
Rebirth

1914-18


If any God should say,
.....
Rudyard Kipling

Rudyard Kipling
For Ever

OUT of the body for ever,
Wearily sobbing, â??Oh, whither?â?
A Soul that hath wasted its chances
Floats on the limitless ether.
.....

Henry Kendall
The Simple Line

The secrets of the mind convene splendidly,
Though the mind is meek.
To be aware inwardly
of brain and beauty
.....

Laura (riding) Jackson
In A Minor Key

(AN ECHO FROM A LARGER LYRE.)


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

Amy Levy
Mercian Hymns

I

King of the perennial holly-groves, the riven sandstone: overlord of the M5: architect of the historic rampart and ditch, the citadel at Tamworth, the summer hermitage in Holy Cross: guardian of the Welsh Bridge and the Iron Bridge: contractor to the desirable new estates: saltmaster: moneychanger: commissioner for oaths: martyrologist: the friend of Charlemagne.

.....

Geoffrey Hill
Dear Lorca

Dear Lorca,

These letters are to be as temporary as our poetry is to be permanent. They will establish the bulk, the wastage that my sour-stomached contemporaries demand to help them swallow and digest the pure word. We will use up our rhetoric here so that it will not appear in our poems. Let it be consumed paragraph by paragraph, day by day, until nothing of it is left in our poetry and nothing of our poetry is left in it. It is precisely because these letters are unnecessary that they must be written.
In my last letter I spoke of the tradition. The fools that read these letters will think by this we mean what tradition seems to have meant latelyâ??an historical patchwork (whether made up of Elizabethan quotations, guide books of the poetâ??s home town, or obscure bits of magic published by Pantheon) which is used to cover up the nakedness of the bare word. Tradition means much more than that. It means generations of different poets in different countries patiently telling the same story, writing the same poem, gaining and losing something with each transformationâ??but, of course, never really losing anything. This has nothing to do with calmness, classicism, temperament, or anything else. Invention is merely the enemy of poetry.
.....

Jack Spicer
Canto Iii

Another's a half-cracked fellowâ??John Heydon,
Worker of miracles, dealer in levitation,
In thoughts upon pure form, in alchemy,
Seer of pretty visions ('servant of God and secretary of nature');
.....
Ezra Pound

Ezra Pound
Sonnet 044: If The Dull Substance Of My Flesh Were Thought

If the dull substance of my flesh were thought,
Injurious distance should not stop my way;
For then despite of space I would be brought,
From limits far remote, where thou dost stay.
.....
William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare
The Odyssey: Book 03

But as the sun was rising from the fair sea into the firmament of
heaven to shed Blight on mortals and immortals, they reached Pylos the
city of Neleus. Now the people of Pylos were gathered on the sea shore
to offer sacrifice of black bulls to Neptune lord of the Earthquake.
.....

Homer
The Odyssey: Book 11

Then, when we had got down to the sea shore we drew our ship into
the water and got her mast and sails into her; we also put the sheep
on board and took our places, weeping and in great distress of mind.
Circe, that great and cunning goddess, sent us a fair wind that blew
.....

Homer
Poetry

And it was at that age ... Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
.....
Pablo Neruda

Pablo Neruda
On The Bill Which Was Passed In England For Regulating The Slave-trade

The hollow winds of night no more
In wild, unequal cadence pour,
On musing fancy's wakeful ear,
The groan of agony severe
.....

Helen Maria Williams
Notes To A Neophyte

Take the general mumble,
blunt as the faceless gut
of an anonymous clam,
vernacular as the strut
.....

Sylvia Plath
At A Vacation Exercise In The Colledge, Part Latin, Part English. The Latin Speeches Ended, The Eng

Hail native Language, that by sinews weak
Didst move my first endeavouring tongue to speak,
And mad'st imperfect words with childish tripps,
Half unpronounc't, slide through my infant-lipps,
.....
John Milton

John Milton
Book Fifth-books

WHEN Contemplation, like the night-calm felt
Through earth and sky, spreads widely, and sends deep
Into the soul its tranquillising power,
Even then I sometimes grieve for thee, O Man,
.....
William Wordsworth

William Wordsworth
Meditations In Time Of Civil War

I. Ancestral Houses

Surely among a rich man's flowering lawns,
Amid the rustle of his planted hills,
.....
William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats
The Old Year

The Old Year's gone away
To nothingness and night:
We cannot find him all the day
Nor hear him in the night:
.....
John Clare

John Clare
The Unknown Eros. Book I.

I
Saint Valentineâ??s Day

Well dost thou, Love, thy solemn Feast to hold
.....
Coventry Patmore

Coventry Patmore
Ribb At The Tomb Of Baile And Aillinn

Because you have found me in the pitch-dark night
With open book you ask me what I do.
Mark and digest my tale, carry it afar
To those that never saw this tonsured head
.....
William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats
Sonnet V: Those Hours, That With Gentle Work Did Frame

Those hours, that with gentle work did frame
The lovely gaze where every eye doth dwell,
Will play the tyrants to the very same
And that unfair which fairly doth excel;
.....
William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare
Dead Musicians

I

From you, Beethoven, Bach, Mozart,
The substance of my dreams took fire.
.....
Siegfried Sassoon

Siegfried Sassoon
An Epistle

From Joshua Ibn Vives of Allorqui to his Former Master, Solomon
Levi-Paul, de Santa-Maria, Bishop of Cartegna Chancellor of
Castile, and Privy Councillor to King Henry III. of Spain.

.....
Emma Lazarus

Emma Lazarus
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
Blue

The earth again like a ship steams out of the dark sea over
The edge of the blue, and the sun stands up to see us glide
Slowly into another day; slowly the rover
Vessel of darkness takes the rising tide.
.....
D. H. Lawrence

D. H. Lawrence
Preface

To all to whom this little book may come,
Health for yourselves and those you hold most dear!
Content abroad, and happiness at home,
And, one grand secret in your private ear:,
.....
Rudyard Kipling

Rudyard Kipling
He Fumbles At Your Spirit

He fumbles at your spirit
As players at the keys
Before they drop full music on;
He stuns you by degrees,
.....
Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson
Inebriety

The mighty spirit, and its power, which stains
The bloodless cheek, and vivifies the brains,
I sing. Say, ye, its fiery vot'ries true,
The jovial curate, and the shrill-tongued shrew;
.....
George Crabbe

George Crabbe
Lux Perdita

Thine were the weak, slight hands
That might have taken this strong soul, and bent
Its stubborn substance to thy soft intent,
And bound it unresisting, with such bands
.....

William Watson
Four Masks Appeared Then One Spirit

a mantel sphere clock

a key opening another universe than the one we live in

.....

Joseph Mayo Wristen
Realities

We are deceived by the shadow, we see not the
substance of things.
For the hills are less solid than thought; and
deeds are but vapors; and flesh
.....
Don Marquis

Don Marquis
Witchery

She walks the woods, when evening falls,
With spirits of the winds and leaves;
And to her side the soul she calls
Of every flower she perceives.
.....
Madison Julius Cawein

Madison Julius Cawein
Spirit

Be still, thou unregenerate part,
Disturb no more my settled heart,
For I have vow'd (and so will do)
Thee as a foe still to pursue,
.....

Anne Bradstreet
The Wide Ocean

Ocean, if you were to give, a measure, a ferment, a fruit
of your gifts and destructions, into my hand,
I would choose your far-off repose, your contour of steel,
your vigilant spaces of air and darkness,
.....
Pablo Neruda

Pablo Neruda
Thora's Song ('ashtaroth')

We severed in Autumn early,
Ere the earth was torn by the plough;
The wheat and the oats and the barley
Are ripe for the harvest now.
.....
Adam Lindsay Gordon

Adam Lindsay Gordon