Favorite Poems

In the spirit of keeping things rolling along I thought I would share a ‘poem’ that I’ve always liked:

The Life of a Day, by Tom Hennen

Like people or dogs, each day is unique and has its own personality quirks which can easily be seen if you look closely. But there are so few days as compared to people, not to mention dogs, that it would be surprising if a day were not a hundred times more interesting than most people. But usually they just pass, mostly unnoticed, unless they are wildly nice, like autumn ones full of red maple trees and hazy sunlight, or if they are grimly awful ones in a winter blizzard that kills a lost traveler and bunches of cattle. For some reason we like to see days pass, even though most of us claim we don’t want to reach our last one for a long time. We examine each day before us with barely a glance and say, no, this isn’t one I’ve been looking for, and wait in a bored sort of way for the next, when, we are convinced, our lives will start for real. Meanwhile, this day is going by perfectly well adjusted, as some days are, with the right amounts of sunlight and shade, and a light breeze scented with a perfume made from the mixture of fallen apples, corn stubble, dry oak leaves, and the faint odor of last night’s meandering skunk.


What about you? Any poetry or prose that you’d like to share?

  1. #1 by rogueminister on July 31, 2007 - 3:28 pm

    Here is one of my current favorite poems. It is by John Donne.



    Batter my heart, three-person’d God ; for you
    As yet but knock ; breathe, shine, and seek to mend ;
    That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
    Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
    I, like an usurp’d town, to another due,
    Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
    Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
    But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
    Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
    But am betroth’d unto your enemy ;
    Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
    Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
    Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
    Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

  2. #2 by BuddyO on August 1, 2007 - 8:40 am

    Here’s a favorite original poem of mine…

    There once was a man named Otto
    His voice is smooth and legato
    He is sometimes a snoot
    Claims tomato is fruit
    But insists it’s pronounced tomato

  3. #3 by Christian Beyer on August 1, 2007 - 2:14 pm

    Danse Ursinus

    To Lady Catherine was borne not Harold,
    But Harry,
    The bravest of minstrels from the land
    Of Mary.
    Wielding bass and bow, he traveled
    The Land,
    Whenever about, good times were
    At Hand.
    Though ursine his façade,
    None thought it odd,
    That a man so imposing,
    Should forever be closing
    Upon his true being,
    That along all were seeing –
    No warrior, soldier or crusader
    Was He,
    But a gentle buffoon
    Adance on the lea.
    And when was espied, his countenance
    Turned ruddy,
    But be not ashamed,
    our dancing bear,

  4. #4 by Christian Beyer on August 1, 2007 - 2:18 pm

    But seriously, here is an original poem from my friend Richard, the Bounding Bend Blogger: http://boundingbend.blogspot.com/

    Do not stand at my grave and weep
    I am not there, I do not sleep
    I am a thousand winds that blow
    I am the diamond glints on snow
    I am the sunlight on ripened grain
    I am the gentle autumns’ rain
    When you awaken in the mornings hush
    I am the swift uplifting rush
    of quiet birds in circled flight
    I am the soft star that shines at
    Do not stand at my grave and cry
    I am not there, I did not die.

  5. #5 by allgnostic on August 7, 2007 - 11:18 am

    One of my own. My personal favorite of all my original compositions. A little dark but oh so true.

    The world spins wildly on its warped axis
    Daylight to darkness, beginning to end
    Another day done, another begins
    Nothing certain ‘cept for death and taxes

    Floating and flying through infinite skies
    Quicksilver changes unfold in a blur,
    Eons and decades no more than obscure
    Centuries pass in a blink of god’s eyes

    Orbital journey encircles the sun,
    Elliptical path to absolute truth
    Procrastination is positive proof
    Youth is wasted on the ignorant young

    The sun may burn out, the heaven’s may fade,
    But death and taxes will always remain.

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