All Poems
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Two Sonnets On Fame
© John Keats
I.
Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy
To those who woo her with too slavish knees,
But makes surrender to some thoughtless boy,
America
© Tony Hoagland
Then one of the students with blue hair and a tongue stud
Says that America is for him a maximum-security prison
Rosalie's Good Eats Cafe
© Sheldon Allan Silverstein
It's two in the mornin' on Saturday night
At Rosalie's Good Eats Café.
The Monument and the Shrine
© John Logan
At focus in the national
Park’s ellipse a marker
Draws tight the guys of
Janet Waking
© John Crowe Ransom
Beautifully Janet slept
Till it was deeply morning. She woke then
And thought about her dainty-feathered hen,
To see how it had kept.
Who Said It Was Simple
© Elizabeth Daryush
There are so many roots to the tree of anger
that sometimes the branches shatter
before they bear.
Sonnet II. (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
As on a hill-top rude, when closing day
Imbrowns the scene, some past'ral maiden fair
To Penshurst
© Benjamin Jonson
Thou art not, Penshurst, built to envious show,
Of touch or marble; nor canst boast a row
The Day Came Slow
© Emily Dickinson
The day came slow, till five o'clock,
Then sprang before the hills,
Like hindered rubies, or the light,
A sudden musket spills.
On The South Downs
© Francis William Bourdillon
Light falls the rain
On link and laine,
After the burning day;
And the bright scene,
Blue, gold, and green,
Is blotted out in gray.
Convict Once - Part First.
© James Brunton Stephens
I.
FREE again! Free again! eastward and westward, before me, behind me,
Wide lies Australia! and free are my feet, as my soul is, to roam!
Oh joy unwonted of space undetermined! No limit assigned me!
Freedom conditioned by nought save the need and desire of a home!
The Death of Antinoüs
© Mark Doty
When the beautiful young man drowned—
accidentally, swimming at dawn
in a current too swift for him,
or obedient to some cult
of total immersion that promised
the bather would come up divine,
To Mr Fashionable Fiancee
© Peter McArthur
I SOMETIMES think it would be sweet
If we were like the olden lovers
The simple-hearted ones we meet
In musty books with vellum covers.
Sonnet On Sitting Down To Read King Lear Once Again
© John Keats
O GOLDEN tongued Romance, with serene lute!
Fair plumed Syren, Queen of far-away!
The Last Bargain
© Anselm Hollo
"Come and hire me," I cried, while in the morning I was walking on the stone-paved road.
Sword in hand, the King came in his chariot.
He held my hand and said, "I will hire you with my power."
But his power counted for nought, and he went away in his chariot.
