All Poems
/ page 1442 of 3210 /the ordinary again
© Rg Gregory
you are not interested in me
a receiver of food and a giver of shit
my brain knuckled under
Petits bourgeois
© François Coppée
Je n'ai jamais compris l'ambition. Je pense
Que l'homme simple trouve en lui sa récompense,
Et le modeste sort dont je suis envieux,
Si je travaille bien et si je deviens vieux,
it was once called
© Rg Gregory
it comes like a convict
squeezing through bars
and is gone before
the promptest siren
silence of reading
© Rg Gregory
i like the silence of reading
flat on my stomach on the woollen floor
my legs waving upwards like the fronds of ferns
and in my mind
Der Trunkne Dichter Lobt Den Wein
© Gotthold Ephraim Lessing
Mit Ehren, Wein, von dir bemeistert,
Und deinem fluessgen Feur begeistert,
Stimm ich zum Danke, wenn ich kann,
Ein dir geheiligt Loblied an.
in search of milk and paradise
© Rg Gregory
puddles idle in
the dips of surfaces
neglected for decades
symbolically concerned
© Rg Gregory
dodona oak (the tree of life) sheds leaves
nutritious-which feeds blood and mind today
theres not a jot (from which the present cleaves)
can be dispensed with all lifes array
Out Of Doors
© Edgar Albert Guest
The kids are out-of-doors once more;
The heavy leggins that they wore,
the watchers
© Rg Gregory
against their beliefs a blue spot came slowly
out of the greennobody expected such a thing to occur
on a thursdaythe watchers switched over from their electronic
eye to their notesthe evidence undeniably placed thursday as the day
A Make-Believe
© George MacDonald
No more! no more! I must stop this play,
Be a boy again, and kneel down and pray
To the God of sparrows and rabbits and men,
Who never lets any one out of his ken-
It must be so, though it be bewild'ring-
To save his dear beasts from his cruel children!
owls and pussy cats and seven-year -old boys
© Rg Gregory
owls and pussy cats can make up their minds
to sail out to sea and even get married
but they don't have parents or other such binds
whose one job in life is to see that they're harried
The Missionary - Canto Sixth
© William Lisle Bowles
The second moon had now begun to wane,
Since bold Valdivia left the southern plain;
symptom
© Rg Gregory
begin at a chapter you have read before
with new words and a new hand turning
the pages where the print vibrates and the white
paper runs in a stream of many colours
On The Death Of Swinburne
© Sara Teasdale
He trod the earth but yesterday,
And now he treads the stars.
He left us in the April time
He praised so often in his rhyme,
He left the singing and the lyre and went his way.
there is a god
© Rg Gregory
i belch
acre upon acre
of cotton wool
and there is still
not enough for his beard
grandeur
© Rg Gregory
loneliness is a state
the lonely cannot reachit carries a grandeur
that doesn't fit intobed-sitters or rejected
ideas - it's the label stuckon the bottle after
The Exile's Choice
© Victor Marie Hugo
Since justice slumbers in the abysm,
Since the crime's crowned with despotism,
Since all most upright souls are smitten,
Since proudest souls are bowed for shame,
Since on the walls in lines of flame
My country's dark dishonour's written;