Tag Archives: Lyric Poem

“A narrow Fellow in the Grass” (1096) by Emily Dickinson [w/ Audio]

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A narrow Fellow in the Grass
 Occasionally rides --
 You may have met him? Did you not
 His notice instant is --

The Grass divides as with a Comb,
 A spotted Shaft is seen,
 And then it closes at your Feet
 And opens further on --

He likes a Boggy Acre --
 A Floor too cool for Corn --
 But when a Boy and Barefoot
 I more than once at Noon

Have passed I thought a Whip Lash
 Unbraiding in the Sun
 When stooping to secure it
 It wrinkled And was gone --

Several of Nature's People
 I know, and they know me
 I feel for them a transport 
 Of Cordiality

But never met this Fellow
 Attended or alone
 Without at tighter Breathing
 And Zero at the Bone.

Zen Garden [Lyric Poem]

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I see those serene figures sit
 amid Zen Garden evergreens.
 Like Benkei, they don't move a whit,
 Their minds are free of thoughts & dreams.

The moss is growing on them, now,
 and birds have left their fecal splat.
 Don't envy how they've found the Dao,
 but how they have no need of hats.

Crucible [Lyric Poem]

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It was a dreary winter day;
 The world was cold, monotone gray.
 But then, I caught a hint of heat:
 Felt on my face, not on my feet.

A furnace burned in a dark place.
 I felt it flush my frigid face --
 Frigid once, but not any more
 I stood inside that foundry's door. 

The orange glow danced on my face.
 It must have shown demon's disgrace.
 Like a poor creature lit on fire,
 Or the living dead on a pyre.

Cold as the day and my feet were,
 I heard a voice - just a whisper. 
 "You must flee now, or you'll jump in,
 and they'll not find a fleck of shin."

The Tao of the Traveler [Lyric Poem]

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With a pack on my back,
 I lurched out of the known.
 Would I ever be back?
 Or go where I was blown?

Who can know where they'll land?
 Maybe on a distant shore?
 Or amid desert sands?
 Or mountains? Or next door?

That's the joy of a life;
 One can end up anywhere.
 Embrace chaos sans strife,
 And you'll live a life that's rare.

“Trees” by Joyce Kilmer [w/ Audio]

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I think that I shall never see
 A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
 Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
 
A tree that looks at God all day,
 And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
 A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose busom snow has lain;
 Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
 But only God can make a tree.

Electric World [Lyric Poem]

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A raw electric sizzle 
   that riffles through my brain
 makes me feel the rhythmic sway
   of a lumbering train.

And I can hear the click-clack
   of rolling down the line,
 and all of it transpires deep
   inside my weary mind.

A Lie from On High [Lyric Poem]

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All day long, clouds hung low
   (pretending rains would come)
 but never did winds blow --
   and no rain came, therefrom.

"Oh, duplicitous sky,
   why have you lied to me?"
 It offered its reply,
   "What grand audacity!

"You left your umbrella home.
   So, what else could I do?
 But close the azure dome, 
   and some respect accrue!"

Purple Cow by Gelett Burgess [w/ Audio]

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I never saw a Purple Cow,
   I never hope to see one,
 But I can tell you, anyhow,
   I'd rather see than be one.

Dancing Through the Graveyard [Common Meter]

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When you're dancing through the graveyard
   you'll get some angry stares.
 They'll call you "disrespectful cad"
   for failing to show care.

To be carefree won't offend ghosts;
   they'll wish they'd done the same.
 But mourners act as if, for Death,
   you are the one to blame.

Why should one hold the dance within,
   when it longs to be out?
 Why should expressing such pure glee
   be cause to point and shout?

Solitude by Ella Wheeler Wilcox [w/ Audio]

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Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
   Weep, and you weep alone;
 For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth,
   But has trouble enough of its own.
 Sing, and the hills will answer;
   Sigh, it is lost on the air;
 The echoes bound to a joyful sound
   But shrink from voicing care. 

Rejoice, and men will seek you;
   Grieve, and they turn and go;
 They want full measure of all your pleasure,
   But they do not need your woe.
 Be glad, and your friends are many;
   Be sad, and you lose them all, --
 There are none to decline your nectared wine,
   But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;
   Fast, and the world goes by.
 Succeed and give, and it helps you live,
   But no man can help you die. 
 There is room in the halls of pleasure
   For a large and lordly train,
 But one by one we must all file on
   Through the narrow aisles of pain.