Tag Archives: poetry

BOOK REVIEW: Selected Poems by John Keats

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Selected Poems (Macmillan Collector's Library Book 189)Selected Poems by John Keats
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Amazon.in Page

This collection of sixty-one poems from the early 19th century British Romantic poet contains a diverse cross-section of poems. While 61 poems might not seem like a substantial selection by today’s standards, this volume includes several long form poems such a “Lamia,” “Hyperion,” and a long excerpt from “Endymion.” It includes all of Keats’ most popular and anthologized works, including: “Ode to a Grecian Urn,” “To Sleep,” “Bright Star…,” “To Autumn,” and “Ode to a Nightingale.” Among the works included are short, medium, and long poems; rhymed verse and blank verse; sonnets and ballads; love poems, nature poems, Greek Mythological fan fiction [in verse,] and homages to important influences — e.g. Shakespeare.

Keats died at 25, making it all the more impressive that he had a body of work from which such a fine selection could be pulled. His imagery is vivid, and his lyricism is musical. I’d highly recommend this collection as an excellent overview of Keats’ poetry.


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Walking [Common Meter]

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The columns of the forest lift
the vaulted canopy.
I walk down below on the trail
that parts understory.

Each step through the loam brings me home
to barefoot days of yore.
When I thought nothing of placing
skin to the forest floor --

while letting the woods become me
as I grew into it;
I would yield my identity.
To nature, I'd submit.

And in a walk, I did become
everything and nothing,
falling into a peace at once
humbling and stunning.

Bishkek Limerick

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A baker from the city of Bishkek
made breads that were so fully bedecked -
the patterns so fancy -
I felt so unclassy,
devouring every last crumb and fleck.

Persistence of Youth [Senryu]

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baby macaque: 
no match for mom's
afternoon nap

Border [Prose Poem]

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Three shambling silhouettes stagger through the fog toward the river / border. Will they see before being seen? That is the question. If not, they may hear shots as their bodies are already crumpling, pierced by bullets that out-speed the rifle crack.

Almaty Limerick

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A visitor to scenic Almaty
was dismayed to find no apple trees.
He couldn't be blamed;
it's right in the name,
but he's stuck with a store picking spree.

Horse Latitudes [Sonnet]

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I scoured vast seas in search of wisdom lost.
It happened when they made me walk the plank,
like scuttled wreckage, sunk sans thought of cost,
as I began to rise, my treasure sank.
I bobbed in seas that each way looked the same.
How could I find my way back to that spot
carried by currents dastardly untamed,
and found days later by a ragged yacht.
And so I drift upon the choppy seas,
and hope for winds to steer me on my course,
but mostly there's not even a slight breeze,
and I'm stuck in ghost screams of a dumped horse.

I hope one day to regain my attitude,
but not stuck down in these damned horse latitudes.

Butterfly Paralysis [Haibun]

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Struggling to wiggle its wings, the butterfly warms in the morning sun. Is it like sleep paralysis - that hypnopompic impulse to flee that's stymied by stuck muscles? What's a wind gust or rapidly advancing shadow like for the butterfly? Normally, such occurrences would provoke an erratic fluttering away. But now the screaming instinct to wing away can't be answered. Does the butterfly know dread, or does it just quietly await the moment it's unfrozen?


cool morning -
a butterfly twitches,
but can't yet fly

Dream Door [Triolet]

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I dreamt the door looked out upon treetops
and I could walk out on blue sky and cloud
and see the world as would a tall cyclops.
I dreamt the door looked out upon treetops,
but in my dream I plunged into the copse.
Sky walking proved more dream than was allowed.
I dreamt the door looked out upon treetops,
but could I walk out to blue sky and cloud?