All Poems

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1954

© Sharon Olds

Then dirt scared me, because of the dirt
he had put on her face. And her training bra
scared methe newspapers, morning and evening,
kept saying it, training bra,

Topography

© Sharon Olds

After we flew across the country we
got in bed, laid our bodies
delicately together, like maps laid
face to face, East to West, my

A Week Later

© Sharon Olds

A week later, I said to a friend: I don't
think I could ever write about it.
Maybe in a year I could write something.
There is something in me maybe someday

One Year

© Sharon Olds

When I got to his marker, I sat on it,
like sitting on the edge of someone's bed
and I rubbed the smooth, speckled granite.
I took some tears from my jaw and neck

The Borders

© Sharon Olds

To say that she came into me,
from another world, is not true.
Nothing comes into the universe
and nothing leaves it.

The End

© Sharon Olds

We decided to have the abortion, became
killers together. The period that came
changed nothing. They were dead, that young couple
who had been for life.

Sex Without Love

© Sharon Olds

How do they do it, the ones who make love
without love? Beautiful as dancers,
gliding over each other like ice-skaters
over the ice, fingers hooked

You Remain

© Arthur Symons

As a perfume doth remain
In the folds where it hath lain,
So the thought of you, remaining
Deeply folded in my brain,
Will not leave me; all things leave me -
You remain.

The Old Women

© Arthur Symons

They pass upon their old, tremulous feet,
Creeping with little satchels down the street,
And they remember, many years ago,
Passing that way in silks. They wander, slow

The Broken Tryst

© Arthur Symons

That day a fire was in my blood;
I could have sung: joy wrapt me round;
The men I met seemed all so good,
I scarcely knew I trod the ground.

Love and Sleep

© Arthur Symons

I have laid sorrow to sleep;
Love sleeps.
She who oft made me weep
Now weeps.

Kisses

© Arthur Symons

Sweet, can I sing you the song of your kisses?
How soft is this one, how subtle this is,
How fluttering swift as a bird's kiss that is,
As a bird that taps at a leafy lattice;

Javanese Dancers

© Arthur Symons

Twitched strings, the clang of metal, beaten drums,
Dull, shrill, continuous, disquieting:
And now the stealthy dancer comes
Undulantly with cat-like steps that cling;

In the Stalls

© Arthur Symons

My life is like a music-hall,
Where, in the impotence of rage,
Chained by enchantment to my stall,
I see myself upon the stage
Dance to amuse a music-hall.

By the Pool of the Third Rosses

I heard the sighing of the reed
In the grey pool in the green land,
The sea-wind in the long reeds sighing
Between the green hill and the sand.

By Loe Pool

The pool glitters, the fishes leap in the sun
With joyous fins, and dive in the pool again;
I see the corn in sheaves, and the harvestmen,
And the cows coming down to the water one by one.

At Fontainebleau

IT was a day of sun and rain,
Uncertain as a childs swift moods;
And I shall never spend again
So blithe a day among the woods.

To R.W.E.

© Emma Lazarus

As when a father dies, his children draw
About the empty hearth, their loss to cheat
With uttered praise & love, & oft repeat
His all-familiar words with whispered awe.

The Taming of the Falcon

© Emma Lazarus

The bird sits spelled upon the lithe brown wrist
Of yonder turbaned fowler, who had lamed
No feather limb, but the winged spirit tamed
With his compelling eye. He need not trust

The Supreme Sacrifice

© Emma Lazarus

Well-nigh two thousand years hath Israel
Suffered the scorn of man for love of God;
Endured the outlaw's ban, the yoke, the rod,
With perfect patience. Empires rose and fell,