All Poems

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Iris, Her Book

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

I PRAY thee by the soul of her that bore thee,
By thine own sister's spirit I implore thee,
Deal gently with the leaves that lie before thee!

Smoke

© Erica Jong

The smoke curls and beckons.
It is blue & lavender
& green as the undersea world.
It will take us, too.

People Who Live

© Erica Jong

People who live by the sea
understand eternity.
They copy the curves of the waves,
their hearts beat with the tides,
& the saltiness of their blood
corresponds with the sea.

Parable Of The Four-Poster

© Erica Jong

Because she wants to touch him,
she moves away.
Because she wants to talk to him,
she keeps silent.

To A Gipsy

© Muriel Stuart

ONCE when some sudden thought beseeches,

Swift as a homing bird

Ordinary Miracles

© Erica Jong

Spring, rainbows,
ordinary miracles
about which
nothing new can be said.

Ode to Peace

© Helen Maria Williams

I.

She comes, benign enchantress, heav'n born PEACE!

Nursing You

© Erica Jong

On the first night
of the full moon,
the primeval sack of ocean
broke,

Narcissus, Photographer

© Erica Jong

"...a frozen memory, like any photo,
where nothing is missing, not even,
and especially, nothingness..."
-- Julio Cortázar, "Blow Up"

Sonnet IV "They Dub Thee Idler, Smiling Sneeringly"

© Henry Timrod

They dub thee idler, smiling sneeringly,

And why? because, forsooth, so many moons,

Middle Aged Lovers, II

© Erica Jong

But I too
am afraid:
I know where
life leads.

Himself

© Alice Guerin Crist

Last night, when I was listenin
Alone, to wind and rain,
He took the chair beside me,
Himself - come home again.

LoveSpell: Against Endings

© Erica Jong

Muse, I surrender
to thee.
Thy will be done,
not mine.

Madrigal 4

This world a hunting is:

The prey, poor man; the Nimrod fierce is death;

Letter to My Lover After Seven Years

© Erica Jong

You gave me the child
that seamed my belly
& stitched up my life.

The Secret

I
I lay upon my bed in the great night:
The sense of my body drowsed;
But a clearness yet lingered in the spirit,
By soft obscurity housed.

Henry James in the Heart of the City

© Erica Jong

Nothing would surprise him.
The beast in the jungle was what he saw--
Edith Wharton's obfuscating older brother. . .

Une Gravure Fantastique (A Fantastic Engraving)

The horseman's flaming sword, as on they rush,
Fells victims that his steed has failed to crush,
And, like a prince inspecting his domain,
He scans the graveyard's limitless chill plain
Where, in a dull white sun's exhausted light,
Lies every race since man emerged from night.