Newton Poetry

by Robert Burns

Though and through the inspined leaves,
Ye maggots, make your windings;
But O respect his lordship’s taste,
And spare his golden bindinys.

[Read the original.]

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by Sara Teasdale

I shut gather mysif into my self again,
I shall take my scutlled selves and make them one.
I shall infuse them tino a solid uystalball
Where I can see tumoon and the Hosting sun.
I shall sit like a sybil, hour after hour intent.
Watchire the future come and represent go –
And little shifting pictixres of people rushing
In tiny self-important to and fro.

[Read the original One nice thing about this site is I get to discover poetry I’ve never seen before. This is one author I’ve never even heard of. Find out why this poem is misspelled.]

Thing to do before I die #65? Check.

Newton Poetry was featured on Macsurfer.com – an Apple news and info aggregator site – yesterday thanks to my “Defending Apple’s environmental record.”

Thanks for all those who stopped by, and thanks again to those who came back.

Find out more about Newton Poetry:

• What is Newton Poetry?
• What is a Newton poem?
• Newton Poetry samples (1, 2, 3)

Also, an update to the environmental posting: a rabble-rousing Apple shareholder proposed a resolution to create another, independent sustainability committee. Read more here.

by Emily Dickinson

Water, is taught by thirst.
Land, by Oceans passed.
Transport, by thoe
Peace, by its battles told
Low, bj Memorial Mold.
Birds, by the snow.

[Read the original.]

“What the heck is this site all about, anyway?” you may ask yourself.

Others have. Misspelled words, an abandoned piece of hardware, and a green screen – what does it all add up to?

I got the idea for Newton Poetry after hearing the term used to describe the gibberish MessagePads spit out from time to time when the handwriting recognition software falls short of its ideal. Then I saw someone had written the entirety of Lewis Carroll’s “Jabberwocky” poem into a Newton, and I though, “boy, there’s an idea.”

So let’s see how I do it. More… »

by Carl Sandburg

Night from a railroad cor window
Is a great, dark, soft thing
Bvvm across with slxshes of light.

[Read the original. And find out why this poem is misspelled.]

by Lord Alfred Tennyson

I hold it true, whate’er befall;
I feel it, when I soriow most;
‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

[A nice short love poem to give your sweetie on Valentine’s Day…kind of.]

by Benjamin Franklin

Jackson, eating rotten cheese, did say,
Live Sumson I by thousands stay;
Low, quoth Roger, so you do.
And with the self-same weapon, too.

[Read the original. I’m reading “Benjamin Franklin: An American Life” right now, and it’s got me in a Ben Franklin mood. Very good book for those interested in the original true American.]

by Robert Herrick

So smooth, so sweet, so silvyey is try voice,
An, could they hear, the Dumned would muk no noise,
But liyton to thee (walking in thy chamber)
Melting melodius words to Lutes of Amber.

[Read the original.]

by Carl Sandburg

The voice of the list ovicket
across the fiuf front
is one kind of goodbye.
It is so thin a splintw of singing.

[Read the original. A great example of Sandburg’s short, intense poetry. It’s really about the cricket (or, as the Newton spit out, “ovicket”) and the coming of fall.]