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Best Famous Mesmerized Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Mesmerized poems. This is a select list of the best famous Mesmerized poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Mesmerized poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of mesmerized poems.

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Written by Charles Bukowski | Create an image from this poem

40000

 at the track today,
Father's Day,
each paid admission was
entitled to a wallet
and each contained a
little surprise.
most of the men seemed between 30 and 55, going to fat, many of them in walking shorts, they had gone stale in life, flattened out.
.
.
.
in fact, damn it, they aren't even worth writing about! why am I doing this? these don't even deserve a death bed, these little walking whales, only there are so many of them, in the urinals, in the food lines, they have managed to survive in a most limited sense but when you see so many of them like that, there and not there, breathing, farting, commenting, waiting for a thunder that will not arrive, waiting for the charging white horse of Glory, waiting for the lovely female that is not there, waiting to WIN, waiting for the great dream to engulf them but they do nothing, they clomp in their sandals, gnaw at hot dogs dog style, gulping at the meat, they complain about losing, blame the jocks, drink green beer, the parking lot is jammed with their unpaid for cars, the jocks mount again for another race, the men press toward the betting windows mesmerized, fathers and non-fathers Monday is waiting for them, this is the last big lark.
and the horses are totally beautiful.
it is shocking how beautiful they are at that time, at that place, their life shines through; miracles happen, even in hell.
I decide to stay for one more race.
from Transit magazine, 1994


Written by Dejan Stojanovic | Create an image from this poem

Unusual Love

Our desires flew like birds in the mornings 
When we were waked by the bells of dreams 
Hypnotized and ready for another round of living 

We would walk down the street of a foreign city mesmerized 
By our own history seen on the streets and in the gardens 
Filled with exotic flowers and the grass; you loved the grass 

You said you would teach me everything 
I never found out really what but I accepted you as mentor 
To learn whatever might be 

I accepted the usual, but unusual, ways of life 
And lived a life I never thought I would.
It became a typhoon passing through paradise.
You accepted my gifts but perhaps not my ideas I thought I knew you Although I hardly knew if I knew myself; I learned to accept your unusual, but usual, ways Your strange thoughts about living and dreaming and mixing living with dreams I learned to like your usual ways of presenting unusual desires What about psychology? There is no way to analyze the working of the brain machine, Working billions of cells, transmitters, and neutrons Flying, fighting, competing How do ideas come to life? That was another hard question.
I was not able to find out anything about anything, Except that I was alive and felt alive and yet felt dead as well; I watched rain, fog, horses, birds, and trees, and I watched the blue; I really loved watching the blue every day; You loved the same, although maybe for different reasons; Maybe we loved each other for different reasons too.
Did we hate each other? I felt I hated you not a few times.
Did you hate me? Maybe you did as well sometimes And maybe you still hate me When you think of that July when the blue was everywhere With the white dot in the middle, shining like the first time When everything was green And you were glistening in the middle of the blue, the green, the summer, But I was not there.
Written by Eugene Field | Create an image from this poem

Prof. vere de blaw

 Achievin' sech distinction with his moddel tabble dote
Ez to make his Red Hoss Mountain restauraw a place uv note,
Our old friend Casey innovated somewhat round the place,
In hopes he would ameliorate the sufferin's uv the race;
'Nd uv the many features Casey managed to import
The most important wuz a Steenway gran' pianny-fort,
An' bein' there wuz nobody could play upon the same,
He telegraffed to Denver, 'nd a real perfesser came,--
The last an' crownin' glory uv the Casey restauraw
Wuz that tenderfoot musicianer, Perfesser Vere de Blaw!

His hair wuz long an' dishybill, an' he had a yaller skin,
An' the absence uv a collar made his neck look powerful thin:
A sorry man he wuz to see, az mebby you'd surmise,
But the fire uv inspiration wuz a-blazin' in his eyes!
His name wuz Blanc, wich same is Blaw (for that's what Casey said,
An' Casey passed the French ez well ez any Frenchie bred);
But no one ever reckoned that it really wuz his name,
An' no one ever asked him how or why or whence he came,--
Your ancient history is a thing the Coloradan hates,
An' no one asks another what his name wuz in the States!

At evenin', when the work wuz done, an' the miners rounded up
At Casey's, to indulge in keerds or linger with the cup,
Or dally with the tabble dote in all its native glory,
Perfessor Vere de Blaw discoursed his music repertory
Upon the Steenway gran' piannyfort, the wich wuz sot
In the hallway near the kitchen (a warm but quiet spot),
An' when De Blaw's environments induced the proper pride,--
Wich gen'rally wuz whiskey straight, with seltzer on the side,--
He throwed his soulful bein' into opry airs 'nd things
Wich bounded to the ceilin' like he'd mesmerized the strings.
Oh, you that live in cities where the gran' piannies grow, An' primy donnies round up, it's little that you know Uv the hungerin' an' the yearnin' wich us miners an' the rest Feel for the songs we used to hear before we moved out West.
Yes, memory is a pleasant thing, but it weakens mighty quick; It kind uv dries an' withers, like the windin' mountain crick, That, beautiful, an' singin' songs, goes dancin' to the plains, So long ez it is fed by snows an' watered by the rains; But, uv that grace uv lovin' rains 'nd mountain snows bereft, Its bleachin' rocks, like dummy ghosts, is all its memory left.
The toons wich the perfesser would perform with sech eclaw Would melt the toughest mountain gentleman I ever saw,-- Sech touchin' opry music ez the Trovytory sort, The sollum "Mizer Reery," an' the thrillin' "Keely Mort;" Or, sometimes, from "Lee Grond Dooshess" a trifle he would play, Or morsoze from a' opry boof, to drive dull care away; Or, feelin' kind uv serious, he'd discourse somewhat in C,-- The wich he called a' opus (whatever that may be); But the toons that fetched the likker from the critics in the crowd Wuz not the high-toned ones, Perfesser Vere de Blaw allowed.
'T wuz "Dearest May," an' "Bonnie Doon," an' the ballard uv "Ben Bolt," Ez wuz regarded by all odds ez Vere de Blaw's best holt; Then there wuz "Darlin' Nellie Gray," an' "Settin' on the Stile," An' "Seein' Nellie Home," an' "Nancy Lee," 'nd "Annie Lisle," An' "Silver Threads among the Gold," an' "The Gal that Winked at Me," An' "Gentle Annie," "Nancy Till," an' "The Cot beside the Sea.
" Your opry airs is good enough for them ez likes to pay Their money for the truck ez can't be got no other way; But opry to a miner is a thin an' holler thing,--The music that he pines for is the songs he used to sing.
One evenin' down at Casey's De Blaw wuz at his best, With four-fingers uv old Wilier-run concealed beneath his vest; The boys wuz settin' all around, discussin' folks an' things, 'Nd I had drawed the necessary keerds to fill on kings; Three-fingered Hoover kind uv leaned acrosst the bar to say If Casey'd liquidate right off, he'd liquidate next day; A sperrit uv contentment wuz a-broodin' all around (Onlike the other sperrits wich in restauraws abound), When, suddenly, we heerd from yonder kitchen-entry rise A toon each ornery galoot appeared to recognize.
Perfesser Vere de Blaw for once eschewed his opry ways, An' the remnants uv his mind went back to earlier, happier days, An' grappled like an' wrassled with a' old familiar air The wich we all uv us had heern, ez you have, everywhere! Stock still we stopped,--some in their talk uv politics an' things, I in my unobtrusive attempt to fill on kings, 'Nd Hoover leanin' on the bar, an' Casey at the till,-- We all stopped short an' held our breaths (ez a feller sometimes will), An' sot there more like bumps on logs than healthy, husky men, Ez the memories uv that old, old toon come sneakin' back again.
You've guessed it? No, you hav n't; for it wuzn't that there song Uv the home we'd been away from an' had hankered for so long,-- No, sir; it wuzn't "Home, Sweet Home," though it's always heard around Sech neighborhoods in wich the home that is "sweet home" is found.
And, ez for me, I seemed to see the past come back again, And hear the deep-drawed sigh my sister Lucy uttered when Her mother asked her if she 'd practised her two hours that day, Wich, if she hadn't, she must go an' do it right away! The homestead in the States 'nd all its memories seemed to come A-floatin' round about me with that magic lumty-tum.
And then uprose a stranger wich had struck the camp that night; His eyes wuz sot an' fireless, 'nd his face wuz spookish white, 'Nd he sez: "Oh, how I suffer there is nobody kin say, Onless, like me, he's wrenched himself from home an' friends away To seek surcease from sorrer in a fur, seclooded spot, Only to find--alars, too late!--the wich surcease is not! Only to find that there air things that, somehow, seem to live For nothin' in the world but jest the misery they give! I've travelled eighteen hundred miles, but that toon has got here first; I'm done,--I'm blowed,--I welcome death, an' bid it do its worst!" Then, like a man whose mind wuz sot on yieldin' to his fate, He waltzed up to the counter an' demanded whiskey straight, Wich havin' got outside uv,--both the likker and the door,-- We never seen that stranger in the bloom uv health no more! But some months later, what the birds had left uv him wuz found Associated with a tree, some distance from the ground; And Husky Sam, the coroner, that set upon him, said That two things wuz apparent, namely: first, deceast wuz dead; And, second, previously had got involved beyond all hope In a knotty complication with a yard or two uv rope!

Book: Reflection on the Important Things