All Poems
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Amoretti VIII: More then most faire, full of the living fire
© Edmund Spenser
More then most faire, full of the living fire,
Kindled above unto the maker neere:
['Joy of my life, full oft for loving you']
© Edmund Spenser
Joy of my life, full oft for loving you
I bless my lot, that was so lucky placed:
The Nineteenth Century as a Song
© Robert Hass
It was a warm day.
What clouds there were
were made of sugar tinged with blood.
They shed, faintly, amid the clatter of carriages
new settings of the songs
Moravian virgins sang on wedding days.
Song of Three Smiles
© William Stanley Merwin
Let me call a ghost,
Love, so it be little:
In December we took
No thought for the weather.
Sun and Moon
© Jane Kenyon
For Donald Clark
Drugged and drowsy but not asleep
I heard my blind roommate's daughter
helping her with her meal:
“What's that? Squash?”
“No. It's spinach.”
the Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls
© Edward Estlin Cummings
the Cambridge ladies who live in furnished souls
are unbeautiful and have comfortable minds
The Consolations of Sociobiology
© Bill Knott
(to JK)
Those scars rooted me. Stigmata stalagmite
I sat at a drive-in and watched the stars
Through a straw while the Coke in my lap went
Waterier and waterier. For days on end or
The Sundays of Satin-Legs Smith
© Gwendolyn Brooks
He wakes, unwinds, elaborately: a cat
Tawny, reluctant, royal. He is fat
And fine this morning. Definite. Reimbursed.
The Dream of a Lover
© Pierre Reverdy
Benedicite! whate dreamed I this nyght?
Methought the worlde was turnyd up so downe
The Southern Refugee
© George Moses Horton
What sudden ill the world await,
From my dear residence I roam;
Anniversary
© Cecilia Woloch
Didn’t I stand there once,
white-knuckled, gripping the just-lit taper,
Perspectives
© Ronald Stuart Thomas
They were bearded
like the sea they came
from; rang stone bells
for their stone hearers.
from A Ballad Upon A Wedding
© Sir John Suckling
I tell thee, Dick, where I have been,
Where I the rarest things have seen;
Oh, things without compare!
Such sights again cannot be found
In any place on English ground,
Be it at wake, or fair.
