All Poems

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The Sailor's Grave at Clo-oose, V.I.

© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall

And watch for the deep-sea liner climbing
Out of the bright West,
With a salmon-sky and her wake shining
Like a tern's breast, -

Life's Slacker

© Edgar Albert Guest

The saddest sort of death to die

Would be to quit the game called life

Gracia

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Nay, nay, Antonio! nay, thou shalt not blame her,
My Gracia, who hath so deserted me.
Thou art my friend, but if thou dost defame her
I shall not hesitate to challenge thee.

In Plaster

© Sylvia Plath

I shall never get out of this! There are two of me now:

This new absolutely white person and the old yellow one,

BEYOND the East the sunrise, beyond the West the sea,
And East and West the wander-thirst that will not let me be;
It works in me like madness, dear, to bid me say good-bye;
For the seas call, and the stars call, and oh! the call of the sky!

The Better Lot

© Madison Julius Cawein

Her life was bound to crutches: pale and bent,
But smiling ever, she would go and come:
For of her soul GOD made an instrument
Of strength and comfort to an humble home.

Not they who soar

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

High up there are no thorns to prod,
Nor boulders lurking 'neath the clod
To turn the keenness of the share,
For flight is ever free and rare;
But heroes they the soil who've trod,
Not they who soar!

Postman Cheval

© André Breton

We are the birds always charmed by you from the top of these belvederes

And that each night form a blossoming branch between your shoulders and the arms of your well beloved wheelbarrow

Of Death

© John Bunyan

Death, as a king rampant and stout
The world he dare engage;
He conquers all, yea, and doth rout
The great, strong, wise, and sage.

Time and Eternity

© Piet Hein

Where the woods and ploughlands

of tradition and modernity

Ode To Anactoria

© Sappho

That man, whoever he may be,

Who sits awhile to gaze on thee,

The Master said

© Confucius

The Master said,
"It is by the Odes that the mind is aroused."
It is by the Rules of Propriety that the character is established.
"It is from Music that the finish is received."

The Voice of the Negro

All ye nations, pause a moment! listen to the Negro's voice,
Coming up from all vocations where his life has made a choice!
Listen to each rank or station, as you cross the sea of time,
It is heard in ev'ry nation, any race and ev'ry clime.

Bad News

I do mind when there broke bitter tidèns,
Woone day, on their ears,
An' their souls wer a-smote wi' a stroke
As the lightnèn do vall on the woak,
An' the things that wer bright all around em
Seem'd dim drough their tears.

Fourth Sunday In Lent

© John Keble

When Nature tries her finest touch,
Weaving her vernal wreath,
Mark ye, how close she veils her round,
Not to be traced by sight or sound,
Nor soiled by ruder breath?

Innocent's Song

Who's that knocking on the window,
Who's that standing at the door,
What are all those presents
Laying on the kitchen floor?

The Dancer by David Tucker: American Life in Poetry #63 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006

© Ted Kooser

Remember those Degas paintings of the ballet dancers? Here is a similar figure study, in muted color, but in this instance made of words, not pigment. As this poem by David Tucker closes, I can feel myself holding my breath as if to help the dancer hold her position.

The Dancer