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Now't a perfect soul hath she
nor were a one to speak a lie
to friendship, there hath not a part
or parcel; on the by and by

Natural science
Cosmic background
Celestial objects
Nebulae and galaxies
Astronomical artifacts
The Egyptian and Nubian monuments
Babylonians, Greeks, Chinese, Indians,
Iranians and Maya civilizations
Discovery and observation
Of transient phenomena
The Physical Universe
The Ptolemaic system
Geocentric model of the universe
Babylonians lunar eclipses
Antikythera mechanism
Astronomical clocks
Heliocentric model
Solar system
Celestial dynamics
Law of gravitation
Physical cosmology
And cosmic microwave

Across the universe...

(Copyrighted poem.)
Here's a free verse or lyric I wrote myself, a few months ago. Was going through some of my old writing.

I felt a dream on its way to somewhere
it passed by me, with a tickle and warmth
A little electricity
I wanted to follow it
and see to whom it belonged.
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William ernest henway

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul
One of mine as well. I had forgotten about it and it is one that I enjoy reading again right now. So I'm glad you posted it today. :D
Thank you! That's very kind. I'll check it out. Morgan Freeman is a fantastic narrator and a good match for the poem.
The mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.
What matter where, if I be still the same,
And what I should be, all but less then he
Whom Thunder hath made greater? Here at least
We shall be free; the Almighty hath not built
Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:
Here we may reign secure, and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition though in Hell:
Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heaven.... [254-263]

...What though the field be lost?
All is not lost; the unconquerable will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield: [105-109]

Paradise Lost
John Milton
Some say the world will end in fire
Some say in ice
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire
But if it had to perish twice
I think I know enough of hate
To say, that for destruction, ice
Is also great, and would suffice

- Robert Frost, Fire and Ice

Something of a classic, but so very well-written.
My language arts(English) teacher had us write so much depends upon poems based off of "The Red Wheelbarrow" by William Carlos Williams:

so much depends

a red wheel

glazed with rain

beside the white

So here's one of mine:

so much depends

the red letter

sprayed with

on the bark of a

I don't do as well when we're told what to write. I like to create my very own ORIGINAL poems.
And here's another one of my poems:

As I trot slowly
Yet steadily
Down to the water's edge
I see
A picture
A perfection

I long to be of that
That loveliness
That portrait
So perfect
It's me.

And this one:

It may take a long time
Weeks, months, years, even

Until you realize
Your true self

You've been here all along
Yet undiscovered

You wonder and marvel
At all you could have been

This brings you down
It begins to overwhelm you

A good friend
Shall comfort you

Tell you that you are
What you were always

Exactly what you
Always were
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There wasnt a tital listed

They really don't see
how much this effects me.
I tell them over and over again
but they just don't want to listen.

They laugh and they giggle
and tell the whole world
YEAH! that's because their
the typical popular girl.

When I put them in their place
they go and be two faced.
Middle school sucks I hope
in high school I will have better luck.

All the drama
the haters,
backstabbers, and liars
you got to pick your friends
like you are walking on fire.

I used to have one good friend
that was there till the end
then she got a boyfriend
and now its a never again.

All the guys,
the lies,
the rumors,
and the facts
karmas a *****
so you better step back.

Shouting things that don't
need to be shouted.
Finding a true friend,
Ah ha I doubt it.

Screaming in you face
just want to kick their ass,
do it
your done
now walk away with some class.

Flirting is not so bad
It's a sigh of affection.
Fighting in the hallways
Automatic DETENTION!

Walking around
all alone
gives you time to think
all the strength you've grown.

Now that I'm stronger
I'll fight and defend
because I'm a true friend
and will always be there in the End
May I join in? My life in verse (so far)...

Upon Discovering

To all my friends both old and new.
For friends to come, and family too
A few words, if I may, though many I've said,
THESE are from the heart, and not from my head.

To all that I've dropped, like hot coals in water,
My father, my son, my mother, my daughter.
To partners and wives, to colleagues and strangers
To all those poor souls that didn't see danger.

To all who I've wronged, and all I've endangered,
To all who got swept up in my wake of adventure.
I have something now, I wish to share.
A hope to repay all that love, joy, and care.

For the damage and debris I've left in my wake,
There's not one excuse I could possibly make.
For this I must carry till the end of my days,
The cold realisation of errors of ways.

For all through this life I've charged at full bore,
A hedonist dream, left washed on the shore.
One non stop party from darkness to light
A sparkling star trail to blaze across night.

Yet no thought did I pay, to those who stood by
My mission was set, I was going to fly.
I could conquer the world, or so I believed,
And possibly even, some of you were deceived.

I had a gift, see. To share with the world
But as it unraveled and fluttered unfurled,
All was not golden, all was not right.
At the young age of twenty I descended to night.

For two score years I wrestled a giant,
Trying to keep him subdued and compliant.
The battle has raged all night and all days
Attempting to keep you all out of harms way.

Depression and anger have been allies close,
I've had my fair share, perhaps more than most.
No reason would fit, no cause could I find
For the trail of destruction that I'd left behind.

Yet all through these years a flicker remained
A part of my soul that could not be tamed.
No job or religion could stop this fire burning,
A deep and relentless unquenchable yearning.

A millennium turned and the madness set in,
The men in white coats were trying to get in.
I was drugged and sedated, beaten and spurned
And yet in my soul this fire still burned.

They tried all they had in slaying the giant
But he just came back more fierce and defiant.
I had to embrace it, I was given no choice
To lose the giant was to surrender my voice.

So midst all the debris washed up on the shore
He took me, the child, and showed me once more.
He gave me a gift, a magical thing.
He taught me to laugh, and to play, and to sing.

This gift knew no bounds, pure energy bright
Endless and ceaseless and huge in it's might.
This gift is a treasure, a true gift indeed
This gift is the child that's locked inside me!

Now all things are clearer, all things make sense
I no longer stand the wrong side of the fence.
It's been there all along but nobody guessed,
Least of all me, I have to confess.

It's bright and it's beautiful, and eternally bold
Though my body might whither it'll never grow old.
I have it to light the rest of my days
And feel life unfolding in magnificent ways.

So now all has reason, and I can find rest
I promise you all that I'll do my best.
Sometimes I will falter, but hope that you'll see
I have a new journey. I have to be me.

For my children

Rob Boardman 11/1/14
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For those of you not familiar with him, Gerard Manley Hopkins was a Jesuit priest. His poems are very religious. I hope, however, that even those on this forum who are not religious will still be able to appreciate his poetry.

May Magnificat

May is Mary's month, and I
Muse at that and wonder why:
Her feasts follow reason,
Dated due to season—

Candlemas, Lady Day;
But the Lady Month, May,
Why fasten that upon her,
With a feasting in her honour?

Is it only its being brighter
Than the most are must delight her?
Is it opportunest
And flowers finds soonest?

Ask of her, the mighty mother:
Her reply puts this other
Question: What is Spring?—
Growth in every thing—

Flesh and fleece, fur and feather,
Grass and greenworld all together;
Star-eyed strawberry-breasted
Throstle above her nested

Cluster of bugle blue eggs thin
Forms and warms the life within;
And bird and blossom swell
In sod or sheath or shell.

All things rising, all things sizing
Mary sees, sympathising
With that world of good,
Nature's motherhood.

Their magnifying of each its kind
With delight calls to mind
How she did in her stored
Magnify the Lord.

Well but there was more than this:
Spring's universal bliss
Much, had much to say
To offering Mary May.

When drop-of-blood-and-foam-dapple
Bloom lights the orchard-apple
And thicket and thorp are merry
With silver-surfed cherry

And azuring-over greybell makes
Wood banks and brakes wash wet like lakes
And magic cuckoocall
Caps, clears, and clinches all—

This ecstasy all through mothering earth
Tells Mary her mirth till Christ's birth
To remember and exultation
In God who was her salvation.

Gerard Manley Hopkins
I had a non-religious English professor in college who had this poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins memorized:

God's Grandeur by Gerard Manley Hopkins : The Poetry Foundation

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

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