All Poems

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There was an Old Man of Thermopylæ

© Edward Lear

There was an old man of Thermopylæ,
Who never did anything properly;
But they said, "If you choose, To boil eggs in your shoes,
You shall never remain in Thermopylæ."

Road

© Yeghishe Charents

I love the sun-baked taste of Armenian words,
the lilt of ancient lutes in sweet laments
our blood-red fragrant roses bending
as in Nayiran dances, danced still by our girls.

There is less difficulty—indeed, no logical difficulty at all—in
imagining two portions of the universe, say two galaxies, in which
time goes one way in one galaxy and the opposite way in the
other. . . . Intelligent beings in each galaxy would regard their own

A Psalm Of Fortitude

© Joseph Furphy

Are you, like me, a peevish brat,
With feelings extra-fine?
Are you disposed to whip the cat
When misadventure lays your flat?
Then paste this memo in your hat
A Man Should Never Whine.

Meet Me in the Green Glen

© John Clare

Love, meet me in the green glen,
Beside the tall elm-tree,
Where the sweetbriar smells so sweet agen;
There come with me.
Meet me in the green glen.

Sonnet: A. M. D.

© George MacDonald

Methinks I see thee, lying straight and low,

Silent and darkling, in thy earthy bed,

The Layers

© Stanley Kunitz

I have walked through many lives,

some of them my own,

Polls Jack-Daw

© William Barnes

Ah! Jimmy vow'd he'd have the law

Ov ouer cousin Poll's Jack-daw,

A Voice From The Bush

© Anonymous

High noon, and not a cloud in the sky
To break this blinding sun.
Well, I've half the day before me still,
And most of my journey done.

My First Best Friend

© Jack Prelutsky

My first best friend is Awful Ann—

she socked me in the eye.

"Some Busy Hands"

© Edith Wharton

SOME busy hands have brought to light,
And laid beneath my eye,
The dress I wore that afternoon
You came to say good-by.

To The Clouds

© George MacDonald

Through the unchanging heaven, as ye have sped,

Speed onward still, a strange wild company,

Biographer

© Samuel Menashe

Authorized, booked
By my steadfast prose
The dead I ghost write
Shed shadows that shine
With hindsight, hearsay—
The last word is mine

Sonnet CXLIV: Two loves I have of comfort and despair

© William Shakespeare

Two loves I have of comfort and despair,

Which like two spirits do suggest me still

Questions And Answer

HAD I a heart till that day?
Who knows, who knows?
Ere the leaf burst upwards can any say
"Here is a green thing hidden away
In the lingering new year snows"?

Coquette And Her Lover

O, foolish querist! what if I,
Beholding your enamored face
And every well-attested trace
Of verdant, young idolatry,
Should, after my own fashion, choose
To play the subtly-amorous muse,

Feeling Fucked Up

Lord she’s gone done left me done packed / up and split

and I with no way to make her

Forest Dwellers

Men who have hardly uncurled

from their posture in the

Alimony

Alimony alimony I work till my fingers are bloody and boney
Me oh my oh goodness sake I'm paying for my mistake
She calls it alimony alimony yeah you single men may think it's funny
Till one of these days you're gonna wake and find you're payin' for your mistake