The sea bit,
As they said it would,
And the hill slid,
As they said it would,
And the poor dead
Nodded agog
The poor head.

O topmost lofty
Tower of Troy,
The poem apparently
Speaks with joy
Of terrible things.
Where is the pleasure
The poetry brings?

Tell if you can,
What does it make?
A city of man
That will not shake,
Or if it shake,
Shake with the splendor
Of the poem’s pleasure.

Poet Bio

What People are Saying

"While the competition and chance to recite is wonderful in itself, there is a very strong camaraderie among the competitors like nothing I've experienced before. It's the kind of environment that has inspired me and allowed me to grow not only as a reciter but also as a poet, performer, and person."
Savina Magdalena Barini
2014 ID POL Champion