Some of My Favorite Poems

WHAT AM I, LIFE ?

What am I, life? A thing of watery salt
Held in cohesion by unresting cells,
Which work they know not why, which never halt,
Myself unwitting where their Master dwells.
I do not bid them, yet they toil, they spin
A world which uses me as I use them;
Nor do I know which end or which begin
Nor which to praise, which pamper, which condemn.

So, like4 a marvel in a marvel set,
I answer to the vast, as wave by wave
The sea of air goes over, dry or wet,
Or the full moon comes swimming from her cave,
Or the great sun comes forth: this myriad I
Tingles, not knowing how, yet wondering why.

John Mansfield


INVICTUS

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeoning of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade.
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishment the scroll,
I am master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley


IN PRAISE ABOUT FEELING BAD ABOUT YOURSELF

The buzzard has nothing to fault himself with,
Scruples are alien to the Black Panther,
Piranhas do not doubt the rightness of their actions,
The Rattlesnake approves of himself wholeheartedly,
The self-critical Jackal does not exist,
The Locust, Alligator, Scorpion, Horsefly
Live as they live and are glad of it,
A Killer whale’s heart weighs 100 kilos
But in other respects is light.

There’s nothing more animal-like than
A clear conscience on the third planet from the sun.


THE RETURN

He came home, said nothing
Though it was clear something unpleasant had happened.
He lay down in his suit,
Put his head under the blanket, drew up his knees.
He’s about 40, but not at this moment.

He exists, but only as in his mother’s belly
Seven layers deep in protective darkness.
Tomorrow he will give a lecture
On Homeostasis in mega-galactic cosmonotics.
But not now; now he’s curled up, sleeping.


HIAWATHA

Gitche Manito, the mighty,
Spoke with loud clear voice:
“O my children! My poor children!
Listen to the words of wisdom,
Listen to the words of warning,
From the lips of the Great Spirit,
From the Master of Life, who made you!
“I have given you lands to hunt in,
I have given you the streams to fish in,
I have given you the bear and bison,
I have given you roe and reindeer,
I have given you brant and beaver,
Filled the marshes full of wild-fowl,
Filled the rivers full of fishes:
Why then are you not contented?
Why then will you hunt each other?
“I am weary of your quarrels,
Weary of your wars and bloodshed,
Weary of your prayers for vengeance,
Of your wrangling and dissensions;
All your strength is in your union,
All your danger is in discord;
Therefore be at peace henceforward,
And as brothers live together.
“Bathe now in the stream before you,
Wash the war-paint from your faces,
Wash the blood-stains from your fingers,
Bury your war-clubs and your weapons,
And as brothers live henceforward!”

H. W. Longfellow