Sea-Shell Murmurs

The hollow sea-shell, which for years hath stood
On dusty shelves, when held against the ear
Proclaims its stormy parents; and we hear
The faint far murmur of the breaking flood.
We hear the sea. The sea? It is the blood
In our own veins, impetuous and near,
And pulses keeping pace with hope and fear
And with our feeling’s every shifting mood.
Lo, in my heart I hear, as in a shell,
The murmur of a world beyond the grave,
Distinct, distinct, though faint and far it be.
Thou fool; this echo is a cheat as well,—
The hum of earthly instincts; and we crave
A world unreal as the shell-heard sea.

Eugene Lee-Hamilton

Stars 

The shining stars, sparkling in the night,

Swelling bigger than the sun.

Setting far out in the distance,
Still bright against the shimmering lake,
Seeming like an endless sea,

Swiftly flowing, wave upon wave,

Stirring life in the depths below

Sweet with accompanying daytime breeze,

Streaming in from broad horizon, 

Still keeping light from up above, 

And sailing in on little whisks

Illuminating life below.

Nikai Boyarko

The Raven (excerpt)

ONCE upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door --
Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; -- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow -- sorrow for the lost Lenore --
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore --
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me -- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door --

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; --

This it is, and nothing more,"

-Edgar Allen Poe

Possibly my favorite poem of all time, The Raven creates an excellent rhythm that is easy to follow while reading. The rhyming inside each line has a certain flow to it that makes each line just as significant to the last. The cacophonus sounds are what really stand out when reading through the poem. Most of the poem has a euphonious rhythm, but words like quaint, dying, and embers stand out so much more than rapping, rustling and dreary. The dactyl meter also creates the rhythm that the tapping upon his door might represent. With the language used, the reader also feels compelled to speed up in the reading as the poem grows toward its climactic moment.

Sonnet 138

When my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her, though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutor'd youth,
Unlearned in the world's false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young.
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false speaking tongue:
On both side thus is simple truth suppress'd:
But wherefore says she not she is unjust?
And wherefore say not I that I am old?
Oh! love's best habit is in seeming trust,
And age in love loves not to have years told:
Therefore I lie with her and she with me,
And in our faults by lies we flatter'd be.

-William Shakespeare

Even though this is the most famous sonnet written by William Shakespeare, it is the most profound to me. I love how dark the message is because it does not seem typical of Shakespeare. He is talking about how he and his "Dark Lady" both continue to lie about their faith toward one another. She is unfaithful, but keeps swearing that she is not. He, in return, sees is fit that he is also unfaithful toward her. It portrays a corrupt relationship that embodies everything a relationship should not. The pun on "lies," although a bit crude, is very striking. It explains the understanding that the narrator has of the affairs happening behind his back, but his only response it to do the same to his lover.

i carry your heart with me

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

                                                      i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

e.e. cummings

I chose this poem because e.e. cummings is my favorite poet. I love his lack of punctuation. I think the messages he creates are much more subtle but they still portray a strong image and message. The relationship is described as if the two people are almost as one from being so close.  I also love how Cummings writes a line and then adds on to the line with a description in parentheses. I think the image that the two lovers are intertwined is beautiful and very well written. 

 Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep. 

 

Robert Frost

Faint Hints Toward Lovely Dreams

Upon this cliff I gently lie

And wait as white clouds roll on by

The birds that swiftly raise their wings

And whisk across the evening sky.

I wonder as the waves flow in,

Though silent 'til they cease and thin 

From every shore to curving shore,

But I can't help to think of when

The sun will sink and stars will glow

And gently casting light below

Will hint toward wishes of sweet dreams

And guide me toward my way back home

Where dreams, like waves, will freely flow

Where dreams, like waves, will freely flow.

nikai boyarko

miss rosie   when I watch you wrapped up like garbage sitting, surrounded by the smell of too old potato peels or when I watch you in your old man's shoes with the little toe cut out sitting, waiting for your mind like next week's grocery I say when I watch you you wet brown bag of a woman who used to be the best looking gal in Georgia used to be called the Georgia Rose I stand up through your destruction I stand up   lucille clifton

dreamer

like dandelions in the wind, 

she dances in the summer sun.

when the stars come out to play, 

her mind drifts off with ease. 

she lays in fields passing time

as seconds wind by, tick-tock.

clouds pass over one by one

like white sheep in her dreams.

her mind, blank as a canvas, fills

with hopes of one day being free.

a prisoner, against her will

pretends she's high as a bird

flying in that summer sun,

in and out of those stars,

like those flowers in the wind,

free as one could ever be.

nikai boyarko

Simile

What did we say to each other
that now we are as the deer
who walk in single file
with heads high
with ears forward
with eyes watchful
with hooves always placed on firm ground
in whose limbs there is latent flight

-N. Scott Momaday


 
Rain

What could they have done
that now we are as the rain
that falls in single file
with cool, quick drops
with nowhere to go but down
with insignificant paths
with sounds that no one can tell apart
in whose journey comes to a sudden end?

-Nikai Boyarko