All Poems

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With The Voice

© Paul Celan

a sharp
Clamp,
you bite through my Shirt into the Skin,

On And On

© Mathilde Blind

By long leagues of wood and meadow
On and on we drive apace;
In the dreamy light and shadow
Veiling earth's autumnal face.

Artemis

© Gerard de Nerval

La Treizième revient... C'est encor la première;

Et c'est toujours la seule, ou c'est le seul moment;

Change should breed Change

© William Henry Drummond

NEW doth the sun appear,

The mountains' snows decay,

Thinking of you is pretty, hopeful,
It is like listening to the most beautiful song
From the most beautiful voice on earth...
But hope is not enough for me any more,
I don't want to listen to songs any more,
I want to sing.

Custer: Book First

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

I

All valor died not on the plains of Troy.

The Profession. A Sketch

© Alaric Alexander Watts

On Santa Croce's golden-pillared shrine,

A thousand tapers pour their blended rays

Love-Wonder

© Archibald Lampman

But ah, Beloved, how shall I be taught
To tell this truth in any rhymed line?
For words and woven phrases fall to naught,
Lost in the silence of one dream divine,
Wrapped in the beating wonder of this thought:
Even thou, who art so precious, thou art mine!

A Valuable Gift

© Carolyn Wells

Old Father Time, one day
In his study, so they say,
Was indulging in a surreptitious nap,
When from his drowsy dreams
He was wakened, as it seems,
By a timid but persistent little rap.

Anniversary by Cecilia Woloch: American Life in Poetry #204 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006

© Ted Kooser

Memories form around details the way a pearl forms around a grain of sand, and in this commemoration of an anniversary, Cecilia Woloch reaches back to grasp a few details that promise to bring a cherished memory forward, and succeeds in doing so. The poet lives and teaches in southern California.

Anniversary

Be My Sweetheart

© Eugene Field

Sweetheart, be my sweetheart
When birds are on the wing,
When bee and bud and babbling flood
Bespeak the birth of spring,
Come, sweetheart, be my sweetheart
And wear this posy-ring!

A Winning Goal

© William Henry Ogilvie

What though 'twas luck as much as skill that gathered up the pass,
Before us lies an open goal and eighty yards of grass.
Now, all ye gods of Hurlingham, come hearken to my call.
Give pace unto the twinkling feet that fly before them all!

Natalias Resurrection: Sonnet VII

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

But where he fared and how, it matters not.
He and his mourning ere a month had run
Were out of mind with all and clean forgot,
Kinsman and friend and foe: save only one,

Chapter 9 - The Seven Selves

© Khalil Gibran

In the stillest hour of the night, as I lay half asleep, my seven selves sat together and thus conversed in whisper:

First Self: Here, in this madman, I have dwelt all these years, with naught to do but renew his pain by day and recreate his sorrow by night. I can bear my fate no longer, and now I rebel.

Elegy V. Anno Aet. 20. On The Approach Of Spring (Translated From Milton)

Time, never wand'ring from his annual round,

Bids Zephyr breathe the Spring, and thaw the ground;

Why Moan, Why Wail You, Wind Of Night

Why moan, why wail you, wind of night,

With such despair, such frenzied madness?

To the Many

I -- am your voice, the warmth of your breath,
I -- am the reflection of your face,
The futile trembling of futile wings,
I am with you to he end, in any case.

Sydney-Side

© Henry Lawson

Oh, there never dawned a morning, in the long and lonely days,
But I thought I saw the ferries streaming out across the bays
And as fresh and fair in fancy did the picture rise again
As the sunrise flushed the city from Woollahra to Balmain: