All Poems
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Reunion
© Dana Gioia
This is my past where no one knows me.
These are my friends whom I can’t name—
Here in a field where no one chose me,
The faces older, the voices the same.
Modern Love: IX
© George Meredith
He felt the wild beast in him betweenwhiles
So masterfully rude, that he would grieve
Sonnet CXVI: Let me not to the Marriage of True Minds
© William Shakespeare
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Becune Point
© Derek Walcott
Stunned heat of noon. In shade, tan, silken cows
hide in the thorned acacias. A butterfly staggers.
Stamping their hooves from thirst, small horses drowse
or whinny for water. On parched, ochre headlands, daggers
Beyond Hammonton
© Stephen Dunn
The back roads I’ve traveled late
at night, alone, a little drunk,
wishing I were someone
on whom nothing is lost,
Who
© Samuel Menashe
Revives a relic
Liquefies dry blood
Touches a corpse
To the quick
Converts a monster to love—
Who made man from mud
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 11
© Alfred Tennyson
Calm is the morn without a sound,
Calm as to suit a calmer grief,
And only thro' the faded leaf
The chestnut pattering to the ground:
a 340 dollar horse and a hundred dollar whore
© Charles Bukowski
but still she looked good to me, she still looked good,
and all thanks to an ugly horse
who wrote this poem.
You Also, Nightingale
© Reginald Shepherd
Petrarch dreams of pebbles
on the tongue, he loves me
at a distance, black polished stone
skipping the lake that swallows
Paradise Lost: Book I
© Patrick Kavanagh
So spake th' apostate Angel, though in pain,
Vaunting aloud, but rack'd with deep despair.
And him thus answer'd soon his bold compeer:
The Apparition
© Arvind Krishna Mehrotra
(A Retrospect)
Convulsions came; and, where the field
Long slept in pastoral green,
A goblin-mountain was upheaved
(Sure the scared sense was all deceived),
Marl-glen and slag-ravine.
The Two Children
© Emily Jane Brontë
Heavy hangs the raindrop
From the burdened spray;
Heavy broods the damp mist
On uplands far away;
Paradise Lost: Book VII (1674)
© Patrick Kavanagh
DEscend from Heav'n Urania, by that name
If rightly thou art call'd, whose Voice divine
"This living hand, now warm and capable"
© John Keats
This living hand, now warm and capable
Of earnest grasping, would, if it were cold
Sway
© Louis Simpson
Swing and sway with Sammy Kaye
Everyone at Lake Kearney had a nickname:
there was a Bumstead, a Tonto, a Tex,
and, from the slogan of a popular orchestra,
two sisters, Swing and Sway.
Making Money: Drought Year in Minkler, California
© Gary Soto
“It’s a ’49,” Rhinehardt said, and slammed
The screen door, then worked his way around
