All Poems
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Myth
© Natasha Trethewey
I was asleep while you were dying.
It’s as if you slipped through some rift, a hollow
The Erotic Philosophers
© John Betjeman
It’s a spring morning; sun pours in the window
As I sit here drinking coffee, reading Augustine.
Amoretti LXXI: I joy to see how in your drawen work
© Edmund Spenser
I joy to see how in your drawen work,
Your selfe unto the Bee ye doe compare;
Sonnet XXIX: When, in disgrace with fortune and mens eyes
© William Shakespeare
When, in disgrace with fortune and mens eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
There may be Chaos still around the World
© George Santayana
There may be chaos still around the world,
This little world that in my thinking lies;
Nights of 1964—1966: The Old Reliable
© Marilyn Hacker
for Lewis Ellingham
The laughing soldiers fought to their defeat . . .
James Fenton, “In a Notebook”
The Cleaving
© Li-Young Lee
He gossips like my grandmother, this man
with my face, and I could stand
I Sing the Body Electric
© Walt Whitman
1
I sing the body electric,
The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul.
Work without Hope
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Lines Composed 21st February 1825
All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair—
Pastoral Dialogue
© Anne Killigrew
Remember when you love, from that same hour
Your peace you put into your lover’s power;
Holy Sonnets: Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
© John Donne
Since she whom I lov'd hath paid her last debt
To nature, and to hers, and my good is dead,
Gerontion
© Thomas Stearns Eliot
Signs are taken for wonders. ‘We would see a sign!’
The word within a word, unable to speak a word,
Swaddled with darkness. In the juvescence of the year
Came Christ the tiger
A Plagued Journey
© Jon Anderson
There is no warning rattle at the door
nor heavy feet to stomp the foyer boards.
[Sonnet] You jerk you didn't call me up
© Bernadette Mayer
Nowadays you guys settle for a couch
By a soporific color cable t.v. set
Instead of any arc of love, no wonder
The G.I. Joe team blows it every other time
On the Funeral of Charles the First at Night, in St. Georges Chapel, Windsor
© William Lisle Bowles
The castle clock had tolled midnight:
With mattock and with spade,
And silent, by the torches light,
His corse in earth we laid.
