Uncertain Certainties

Classical poems by Afred Lord Tennyson

A Farewell

After-Thought

All Things will die

Ask me no more

Come not when I am dead

Claribel:A melody

By an Evolutionist

Beautifull city

Break,Break,Break

Tears,idle Tears

Contemporary poems by Billy Collins

Flames

Introduction of poetry

The Art of Drowing

Today

I Ask you

Forgetfullness

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Break,break,break

Break,break,break On thy cold gray stones,O sea! And I would that my tongue could utter Tha thoughs that arise in me. O,well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sister at play! O,well for the sailor lad, That he sings in his boat on the boy! And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of vanish hand, And the sound of a voice that is still; Break,break,break At the foot of thy crags,O sea! But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me. -Tennyson

Artistic Tragedy

Marisol Lozano Poetry Pg.1 It's a shame A tragedy really An Artist's state An Artist The one who sees beyond the seven seas The one who distinguishes between rationality and irrationality but only to conflict themselves with the gravitational pull of emotion vs presence. The goal is preservation Against the odds who hold you back Against time who seems to strike And how? By captivating an emotion unknown to the naked eye At the same time criticized harshly by others who are pin pointing technicalities It's a shame A tragedy really An Artist The one who sees beyond the seven seas And wants nothing more but to please And ease the ache from society's burden While it is encouraged to think outside the box This practically is forbidden It's just an expression whose only job is to mock And play with your mind Until you do mind And question the point From the start to the end point When all of those miles traveled seem to accumulate just

In memoriam,Go sleep I give my powers away

In memorim ,Go sleep I give my powers away To sleep I give my powers away, My will is bondsman to the dark; I sit within a hemless bark, And my heart l muse and say, O heart,how fares it with thee now, That I thou should fail from the desire, Who scarcely derest to imagine, What makes he beat so low, Something it is which thou houst lost, Some pleasure from thine early gelrs, Break thou deep vase of chilling leys That grief hath shaken into frost, Such clouds of nameless trouble cross All night below the darkened eyes. with morning wakes the will,and cries thou shalth, not be the fall of loss. -Tennyson