All Poems
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Les Très Riches Heures de Florida
© Debora Greger
At three p.m.
under sky coming to harm
something too red flashes from a limb,
Modern Love: XLVII
© George Meredith
Their sense is with their senses all mixed in,
Destroyed by subtleties these women are!
A Burnt Ship
© John Donne
Out of a fired ship, which by no way
But drowning could be rescued from the flame,
Some men leap'd forth, and ever as they came
Near the foes' ships, did by their shot decay;
So all were lost, which in the ship were found,
They in the sea being burnt, they in the burnt ship drown'd.
Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence
© Matthew Rohrer
I'm waiting for the Light Beings
to remove my roof.
Our bedroom is lousy with clothes
spelling out greetings if anyone's up there
who can read English.
"I wish I could remember that first day"
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Era gia lora che volge il desio. Dante
Ricorro al tempo chio vi vidi prima. Petrarca
from Stanzas in Meditation: Stanza I
© Gertrude Stein
I caught a bird which made a ball
And they thought better of it.
Lamenting Widow
© Ho Xuan Huong
A woman wails, boo hoo, mourning her man
Shut up, shame on you, don't cry to the hills!
O little sister, I should have warned you
Don't eat the meat, if it makes you cough blood!
House: Some Instructions
© Grace Paley
If you have a house
you must think about it all the time
as you reside in the house so
it must be a home in your mind
from the Last Canto of Paradiso
© Dante Alighieri
xxxiii, 46-48, 52-66
As I drew nearer to the end of all desire,
I brought my longing's ardor to a final height,
Just as I ought. My vision, becoming pure,
White-Eyes
© Michael Ondaatje
In winter
all the singing is in
the tops of the trees
where the wind-bird
The Three-Legged Dog at the Heart of Our Home
© Michael Rosen
She dances to the wheeze of my lungs. Were she taller,
or had she both hind legs, she would lick my aching knees.
There’s nothing like practice I firmly believe. Practice
Much Madness is divinest Sense - (620)
© Emily Dickinson
Much Madness is divinest Sense -
To a discerning Eye -
Epitaph on Elizabeth, L. H.
© Benjamin Jonson
Wouldst thou hear what man can say
In a little? Reader, stay.
Fog
© Louise Imogen Guiney
Thy mood with man’s is broken and blent in,
City of Stains! And ache of thought doth drown
The primitive light in which thy life began;
Great as thy dole is, smirchèd with his sin,
Greater and elder yet the love of man
Full in thy look, tho’ the dark visor’s down.
