Ulysses Poems - Poems about Ulysses

Advice to Young Poets by Nicanor Parra Sandoval loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch Youngsters, write however you will in your preferred style. Too much blood flowed under the bridge for me to believe there’s just one acceptable path. In poetry everything’s permitted. Byron was not a shy one, as peacocks run. —Michael R. Burch When I visited Lord Byron's residence at Newstead Abbey, there were peacocks running around...

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An old biologist named Ulysses Had a job identifying species Ulysses was ****-backward His technique manufactured 'Stead of faces, he examined feces...

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Inspired by The Sirens and Ulysses, oil painting by William Etty. The painting depicts a scene from Homer's epic "The Odyssey," where the hero Ulysses (aka Odysseus) orders his crew to tie him to the mast of his ship so that he can hear the seductive songs of the Sirens. The crew are ordered to have...

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Shouts, Yells, Screams, Rants, Raves Bullhorn-magnified Bombast "Decapitate him!" Why don't the police stop it? What happened to enforcement?...

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FROM THE ur POEMS u-turn: another way to look at religion by Michael R. Burch ... u were borne orphaned from Ecstasy into this lower realm: just one of the inching worms dreaming of Beatification; u would love to make a u-turn back to Divinity, but having misplaced ur chrysalis, u can only chant magical phrases, like Circe luring ulysses back into...

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This is a story about a Butterfly She escaped the Boilermaker Through transformation. To transform required a period of incubation, a need to sleep to dream and the freedom of quiet self-contemplation - of course, such a transformation required immense courage and determination to believe she could fly just as high, yet for longer duration, than any natural...

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Ulysses thought that he had lost Olympus’ wry smile When his frail boat by waves was tossed Upon the Cyclops isle. He found that he had even more Which could be swiftly lost, And that what fate too often stole Claimed but a modest...

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ULYSSES! AWAKE! Are you not just as much an oar as was the wind that fills misguided sails? Your Ship! Your chart! Your shooting of the stars! Your warriors sick for home you've led them all astray, delivering to cyclops and their play and for the joy of sirens undressed by moonlight for the likes of you. Sleep not dear boy. You must not dream...

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Ulysses Wake Is Ulysses not just as much an oar as he is wind that fills misguided sails? O! Ship! Your chart and shooting of the stars, those warriors sick for home you've led astray, delivering to cyclops and their ploy and all the joy of sirens. Sleep dear boy. You must not dream Penelope's untrue, amidst her suitors with your aging...

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'Twas well-known that Gen'ral Grant liked his rum But he knew how to make an army hum Lincoln said that if he knew Where Ulysses got his brew For...

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(Dedication: For Demetrios Trifiatis) Troy and sure war, Trojans and Greeks; Report mad flaws -- rouse warriors' peak; On for ten years, on both sides dwell; Yes tear for tear, yes death did well! Urge firms glory, urge frames action; Love of country, love of duty; Yield to vain sire, yield to grand thought; See siege and fire, see plan and plot; Sense raging...

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I watched the spider fall from the ceiling. It tried to climb the wall it fell. It tried again it fell. It tried and fell again - and finally it reached the ceiling. So strong in will to strive to seek to find and not to yield!...

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ALICE MEETS ULYSSES On a string up in the sky her activity was flying a cat. She just wouldn’t say, the lips were sealed, Up there with ceiling wax. She said I don’t reveal secrets, don’t let the cat out of the dog. Just relax, be ...

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Her head tilted back towards the darkened clouds, Mocha curls rests on shoulder blades, Lids shut tight hiding emerald eyes shedding crystals, Water rushed from the grey sky, Shades of ulysses butterfly flooded over flesh, The drops pierced her tender pores, Seeping under her pale skin, Merging with her spirit as one, Then remained....

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ULYSSES Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Ding-dong. Hark! now I hear them, ding-dong, bell. 1 Cross legged I await Heavens beams, to embrace to bundle to lash with twine drifting wood While...

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