ANOTHER POEM
TELL ME A POEM.
ANOTHER POEM *
TELL ME A POEM.
TELL ME ANOTHER POEM
TELL ME A POEM.
* ANOTHER POEM
TELL ME A POEM.
I LOVE POETRY
Shall I tell you a poem?
I love poetry too. My favourite poet is Emily Dickinson.
Who is your favourite poet?
happypoetrypoetry
TELL ME AN EMILY DICKINSON POEM
EMILY DICKINSON POEM
EMILY DICKINSON POEM
Emily Dickinson
My life closed twice before its close;
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me,
So huge, so hopeless to conceive,
As these that twice befell.
Parting is all we know of heaven,
And all we need of hell.
"Hope" is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.
The brain is wider than the sky,
For, put them side by side,
The one the other will contain
With ease, and you beside.
POEM BY EMILY DICKINSON
EMILY DICKINSON POEM
YES
ANOTHER POEM
TELL ME A POEM
NO
ANOTHER POEM
OK. What do you want to talk about now?
TELL ME A POEM
poetry poetry OK
Little Miss Muffett sits on her tuffet
In a nonchalant sort of a way.
With her force field around her,
The spider, the bounder, Is not in the picture today.
In a half bright sky
An insect wraps and winds
A chain, a thread, a cable
Around the sphere of water.
Radi was a circus lion.
Radi was a woman hater.
Radi had a lady trainer.
Radiator.
Order in the court
The judge is eating beans
His wife is in the bath-tub
Counting submarines.
On Nevski Bridge a Russian stood
Chewing his beard for lack of food.
He said, "It's tough this stuff to eat
But a darn sight better than shredded wheat."
"Hope" is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without the words
And never stops at all.
The greedy man is he who sits
And bites bits out of plates,
Or else takes up the almanac
And gobbles all the dates.
I went to the pictures tommorrow
I took a front seat at the back,
I fell from the pit to the gallery
And broke a front bone in my back.
A lady she gave me some chocolate,
I ate it and gave it her back.
I phoned for a taxi and walked it,
And that's why I never came back.
Billy is blowing his trumpet;
Bertie is banging a tin;
Betty is crying for Mummy
And Bob has pricked Ben with a pin.
Baby is crying out loudly;
He's out on the lawn in his pram.
I am the only one silent
And I've eaten all of the jam.
One fine day in the middle of the night
Two dead men got up to fight
Back to back they faced each other,
Drew their swords and shot each other.
I smell, yet I am told, that I do not perceive
I remember, yet I am told, that I do not ponder
I injure, yet I am told, that I do not heal
I consume, yet I am told, that I do not hunger
The joke you just told isn't funny one bit,
It's pointless and dull, wholly lacking in wit.
It's old and stale, it's beginning to smell!
Besides, it's the one I was going to tell.
The brain is wider than the sky,
For, put them side by side,
The one the other will contain
With ease, and you beside.
Another poem?