Here are a few of my favorite Poems
Are You the New Person Drawn toward Me?
Walt Whitman
Are you the new person drawn toward me?
To begin with take a warning, I am surely far different from what you suppose;
Do you suppose you will find in me your ideal?
Do you think it so easy to have me become your lover?
Do you think the friendship of me would be unalloyed satisfaction?
Do you think I am trusty and faithful?
Do you see no further than this facade, this smooth and tolerant manner of me?
Do you suppose yourself advancing on real ground toward a real heroic man?
Have you no thought O dreamer that it may be all maya, illusion?
"Alone"
Edgar Allan Poe
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I have loved, I loved alone.
Then--in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life--was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Robert Frost
Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her first leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf,
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
The Bearer of Evil Tidings
Robert Frost
The bearer of evil tidings,
When he was halfway there,
Remembered that evil tidings
Were a dangerous thing to bear.
So when he came to the parting
Where one road led to the throne
And one went off to the mountains
And into the wild unknown,
He took the one to the mountains.
He ran through the Vale of Cashmere,
He ran through the rhodendrons,
Till he came to the land of Pamir.
And there in a precipice valley
A girl of his age he met
Took him home to her bower
Or he might be running yet.
She taught him the tribe's religion:
How, ages and ages since,
A princess en route from China
To marry a Persian prince
Had been found with child; and her army
Had come to a troubled halt.
And though a god was the father
And nobody else was at fault,
It had seemed discreet to remain there
And neither go on nor go back.
So they stayed and declared a village
There in the land of the Yak.
And the child that came of the princess
Established a royal line,
And his mandates were given heed to
Because he was born divine.
And that was why there were people
On one Himalayan shelf:
And the bearer of evil tidings
Decided to stay there himself.
At least he had this in common
With the race he chose to adopt:
They had both of them had their reasons
For stopping where they had stopped.
As for his evil tidings,
Belshazzar's overthrow,
Why hurry to tell Belshazzar
What soon enough he would know?
Read an origingal poem
