All Poems

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Bongaloo

© Spike Milligan

"What is a Bongaloo, Daddy?"
"A Bongaloo, Son," said I,
"Is a tall bag of cheese
Plus a Chinaman's knees
And the leg of a nanny goat's eye."

I have sinned, but as a man might; like a man Ill rise again
From long nights of mental torture, from long days of care and pain.
Pass me by with eyes averted, with a shrug or with a frown,
But their heads shall bow in ashes long ere my head shall go down!

The Pick by Cecilia Woloch : American Life in Poetry #236 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006

© Ted Kooser

Cecilia Woloch teaches in California, and when she’s not with her students she’s off to the Carpathian Mountains of Poland, to help with the farm work. But somehow she resisted her wanderlust just long enough to make this telling snapshot of her father at work.
The Pick

I watched him swinging the pick in the sun,

A Mournful One Am I

© Walther von der Vogelweide

A mournful one am I, above whose head
A day of perfect bliss hath never past;
Whatever joys my soul have ravished,
Soon was the radiance of those joys o'ercast.

The Destruction Of Sennacherib

© George Gordon Byron

I.

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,

Domestic Peace

© Anne Brontë

Why should such gloomy silence reign,
And why is all the house so drear,
When neither danger, sickness, pain,
Nor death, nor want, have entered here?

Aerophorion

© Henry James Pye

When bold Ambition tempts the ingenuous mind

To leave the beaten paths of life behind,

MacCracken

© Dante Gabriel Rossetti

GETTING his pictures, like his supper, cheap,

Far, far away in Belfast by the sea,

The Phantom Light Of The Baie Des Chaleurs

© Arthur Wentworth Hamilton Eaton

Strange is the tale that the fishermen tell,
They say that a ball of fire fell
Straight from the sky, with crash and roar,
Lighting the bay from shore to shore;
That the ship, with a shudder and a groan,
Sank through the waves to the caverns lone

Growth

© Peter McArthur

THE dumb earth yearns for the expressive seed,

The fruit fulfilled gives ear to her desire

Onn Oure Ladies Chyrche

© Thomas Chatterton

AS onn a hylle one eve sittynge,

At oure Ladie's Chyrche mouche wonderynge,

Impromptus

© George Gordon Byron

Along thy sprucest bookshelves shine
The works thou deemest most divine-
The "Art of Cookery,"and mine,
My Murray.

The Moor

© Ralph Hodgson

The world's gone forward to its latest fair

And dropt an old man done with by the way,

To the Nightingale

© Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Sister of love-lorn Poets, Philomel!

How many Bards in city garret pent,

Battle Of Charleston Harbor, April 7, 1863

TWO hours, or more, beyond the prime of a blithe April day,
The Northmen's mailed "Invincibles" steamed up fair Charleston Bay;
They came in sullen file, and slow, low-breasted on the wave,
Black as a midnight front of storm, and silent as the grave.

An Essay On The Different Stiles Of Poetry

I hate the Vulgar with untuneful Mind,
Hearts uninspir'd, and Senses unrefin'd.
Hence ye Prophane, I raise the sounding String,
And Bolingbroke descends to hear me sing.

Jazzonia

In a Harlem cabaret
Six long-headed jazzers play.
A dancing girl whose eyes are bold
Lifts high a dress of silken gold.

The Phantom Ship. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)

In Mather's Magnalia Christi,

Of the old colonial time,

The Unsung Heroes

A song for the unsung heroes who rose in the country's need,
When the life of the land was threatened by the slaver's cruel greed,
For the men who came from the cornfield, who came from the plough and the flail,
Who rallied round when they heard the sound of the mighty man of the rail.