All Poems
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Sunday: New Guinea
© Ishmael Reed
The bugle sounds the measured call to prayers,
The band starts bravely with a clarion hymn,
From every side, singly, in groups, in pairs,
Each to his kind of service comes to worship Him.
What shall I do with this body they gave me
© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam
What shall I do with this body they gave me,
so much my own, so intimate with me?
The Humbled Heart
© Siegfried Sassoon
Go your seeking, soul.
Mine the proven path of time’s foretelling.
Yours accordance with some mysteried whole.
I am but your passion-haunted dwelling.
The Remedy Worse Than The Disease
© Matthew Prior
I sent for Ratcliffe, was so ill,
That other doctors gave me over,
He felt my pulse, prescribed his pill,
And I was likely to recover.
Leave the Hand In
© John Ashbery
Furthermore, Mr. Tuttle used to have to run in the streets.
Now, each time friendship happens, they’re fully booked.
Happiness (Reconsidered)
© Judith Viorst
Happiness
Is a clean bill of health from the doctor,
And the kids shouldn't move back home for
more than a year,
And not being audited, overdrawn, in Wilkes-Barre,
in a lawsuit or in traction.
The Wolfe New Ballad Of Jane Roney And Mary Brown
© William Makepeace Thackeray
An igstrawnary tail I vill tell you this veek
I stood in the Court of A'Beckett the Beak,
Vere Mrs. Jane Roney, a vidow, I see,
Who charged Mary Brown with a robbin of she.
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church – (236)
© Emily Dickinson
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church –
I keep it, staying at Home –
With a Bobolink for a Chorister –
And an Orchard, for a Dome –
The Picture
© Madison Julius Cawein
Above her, pearl and rose the heavens lay:
Around her, flowers flattered earth with gold,
Or down the path in insolence held sway-
Like cavaliers who ride the king's highway-
Scarlet and buff, within a garden old.
Essay on Psychiatrists
© Robert Pinsky
It's crazy to think one could describe them—
Calling on reason, fantasy, memory, eyes and ears—
As though they were all alike any more
The Ghetto: A Mother
© Anna Swirszczynska
Cuddling in the arms her half-asphyxiated baby, howling,
she ran up the staircase of the apartment building that was set ablaze.
From the first floor to the second.
From the second to the third.
From the third to the fourth.
Incantation
© Czeslaw Milosz
Human reason is beautiful and invincible.
No bars, no barbed wire, no pulping of books,
To Live in the Mercy of God
© Denise Levertov
To lie back under the tallest
oldest trees. How far the stems
rise, rise
before ribs of shelter
open!
Night Shift
© Sylvia Plath
It was not a heart, beating.
That muted boom, that clangor
Far off, not blood in the ears
Drumming up and fever
Deeply Morbid
© Stevie Smith
Deeply morbid deeply morbid was the girl who typed the letters
Always out of office hours running with her social betters
But when daylight and the darkness of the office closed about her
Not for this ah not for this her office colleagues came to doubt her
It was that look within her eye
Why did it always seem to say goodbye?
Song of the Greek Amazon
© William Cullen Bryant
I buckle to my slender side
The pistol and the scimitar,
And in my maiden flower and pride
Am come to share the tasks of war.
Fragment 5: Whom should I choose for my Judge?
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
What is the meed of thy Song? 'Tis the ceaseless, the thousandfold Echo
Which from the welcoming Hearts of the Pure repeats and prolongs it,
Each with a different Tone, compleat or in musical fragments.
The Dream Of A Boy Who Lived At Nine-Elms
© William Brighty Rands
Nine grenadiers, with bayonets in their guns;
Nine bakers' baskets, with hot cross buns;
