Round the cape of a sudden came the sea,
And the sun looked over the mountain's rim:
And straight was a path of gold for him,
And the need of a world of men for me.
“Parting at Morning” by Robert Browning [w/ Audio]
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Category Archives: Lyric
Pigeons [Lyric Poem]
There’s a writhing pile of pigeons —
Not two or a few or a smidgen —
You can raise their clout, and call them doves,
But I’m glad they're not on the wires above.
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“Banish Air from Air” (963) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]
Banish Air from Air --
Divide Light if you dare --
They'll meet
While Cubes in a Drop
Or Pellets of Shape
Fit --
Films cannot annul
Odors return whole
Force Flame
And with a Blonde push
Over your impotence
Flits Steam.
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Millipede [Lyric Poem]
I saw, crawling out of the weeds,
One quickstepping millipede.
But, going daft, it's bow and stern
Started to clash, and - as each turned -
It tied itself in a knot.
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“Spring Dawn” (春曉) by Meng Haoran [w/ Audio]
My Spring sleep is unswayed by dawn --
Though birds are heard through screen, still drawn.
Recalling night sounds of rain and wind,
I wonder how the flowers have thinned?
Original in Chinese:
春眠不覺曉，
處處聞啼鳥。
夜來風雨聲，
花落知多少。
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Wasp [Lyric Poem]
I look straight upward and I see
A wasp nest hanging over me:
By a mere twig it's dangling,
And this, my nerves, is jangling.
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Hyena [Lyric Poem]
The Hyena is renowned for its cackle--
Not so of bats, birds, snakes, whales or jackals.
So, why such an intense sense of humor?
Perhaps, it's just a human-lampooner.
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Baboon [Lyric Poem]
I would never wish to impugn
That noble creature, the baboon.
Some say mean things about their fangs,
But about their gnarly butts-- DAAANG!
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Ostrich [Lyric Poem]
For the Ostrich, I feel quite bad:
The bird's great gift, it never had.
But, a flighted one, I don't wish to see;
I'd hate to have a falling one land on me.
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“Shiloh: A Requiem” by Herman Melville [w/ Audio]
Skimming lightly, wheeling still,
The swallows fly low
Over the field in clouded days,
The forest-field of Shiloh--
Over the field where April rain
Solaced the parched ones stretched in pain
Through the pause of night
That followed the Sunday fight
Around the church of Shiloh--
The church so lone, the log-built one,
That echoed to many a parting groan
And natural prayer
Of dying foemen mingled there--
Foemen at morn, but friends at eve--
Fame or country least their care:
(What like a bullet can undeceive!)
But now they lie low,
While over them the swallows skim,
And all is hushed in Shiloh.
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