All Poems
/ page 1581 of 3210 /Mechanism
© Archie Randolph Ammons
Honor a going thing, goldfinch, corporation, tree,
morality: any working order,
Thanking My Mother for Piano Lessons
© Diane Wakoski
The relief of putting your fingers on the keyboard,
as if you were walking on the beach
and found a diamond
as big as a shoe;
Listening
© David Ignatow
You wept in your mother's arms
and I knew that from then on
I was to forget myself.
Soonest Mended
© John Ashbery
Barely tolerated, living on the margin
In our technological society, we were always having to be rescued
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 67
© Alfred Tennyson
When on my bed the moonlight falls,
I know that in thy place of rest
By that broad water of the west,
There comes a glory on the walls:
Misreading Housman
© Linda Pastan
On this first day of spring, snow
covers the fruit trees, mingling improbably
The Continent’s End
© Robinson Jeffers
At the equinox when the earth was veiled in a late rain, wreathed with wet poppies, waiting spring,
The ocean swelled for a far storm and beat its boundary, the ground-swell shook the beds of granite.
Shroud of the Gnome
© James Tate
And what amazes me is that none of our modern inventions
surprise or interest him, even a little. I tell him
Rhapsody on a Windy Night
© Thomas Stearns Eliot
Half-past three,
The lamp sputtered,
The lamp muttered in the dark.
[in Just-]
© Edward Estlin Cummings
in Just-
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
lame balloonman
from The Sleepers
© Walt Whitman
I see a beautiful gigantic swimmer swimming naked through the eddies of the sea,
His brown hair lies close and even to his head, he strikes out with courageous arms, he urges himself with his legs,
I see his white body, I see his undaunted eyes,
I hate the swift-running eddies that would dash him head-foremost on the rocks.
The Children of Stare
© Walter de la Mare
Winter is fallen early
On the house of Stare;
Birds in reverberating flocks
Haunt its ancestral box;
Bright are the plenteous berries
In clusters in the air.
The moon now rises to her absolute rule
© Henry David Thoreau
The moon now rises to her absolute rule,
And the husbandman and hunter
Dejection: An Ode
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Late, late yestreen I saw the new Moon,
With the old Moon in her arms;
And I fear, I fear, my Master dear!
We shall have a deadly storm.
Pillow Talk
© John Fuller
Wondered Knob-Cracker at Stout-Heart:
‘Are you timed by your will, does your pulse
List credit, ready to slam like a till?
Can you keep it up?’