All Poems
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Way-Station
© Archibald MacLeish
Only its darkness.
From the deep
Dark a voice calls like a voice in sleep
Young Afrikans
© Gwendolyn Brooks
Blacktime is time for chimeful
poemhood
but they decree a
jagged chiming now.
Anticipated Stranger,
© John Ashbery
the bruise will stop by later.
For now, the pain pauses in its round,
Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star
© Jane Taylor
Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky.
Song
© Edmund Waller
Go, lovely rose!
Tell her that wastes her time and me,
That now she knows,
When I resemble her to thee,
How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Cynthia's Revels: Queen and huntress, chaste and fair
© Benjamin Jonson
Queen and huntress, chaste and fair,
Now the sun is laid to sleep,
Seated in thy silver chair
State in wonted manner keep:
Hesperus entreats thy light,
Goddess excellently bright.
the weather is hot on the back of my watch
© Charles Bukowski
the weather is hot on the back of my watch
which is down at Finkelstein’s
The Blue Bowl
© Jane Kenyon
Silent the rest of the day, we worked,
ate, stared, and slept. It stormed
all night; now it clears, and a robin
burbles from a dripping bush
like the neighbor who means well
but always says the wrong thing.
"Our sweet companions-sharing your bunk and your bed"
© Marina Tsvetaeva
Our sweet companions—sharing your bunk and your bed
The versts and the versts and the versts and a hunk of your bread
The wheels' endless round
The rivers, streaming to ground
The road. . .
Are They Shadows
© Samuel Daniel
Are they shadows that we see?
And can shadows pleasure give?
Pleasures only shadows be
Cast by bodies we conceive
And are made the things we deem
In those figures which they seem.
Tangerine
© Ruth L. Schwartz
It was a flower once, it was one of a billion flowers
whose perfume broke through closed car windows,
Thoughtless Cruelty
© Charles Lamb
There, Robert, you have kill'd that fly — ,
And should you thousand ages try
The life you've taken to supply,
You could not do it.
Mutability ["The flower that smiles to-day"]
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
The flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow dies;
