All Poems
/ page 1804 of 3210 /Against Gregariousness
© Clive James
Facing the wind, the hovering stormy petrels
Tap-dance on the water.
They pluck the tuna hatchlings
As Pavlova, had she been in a tearing hurry,
Might once have picked up pearls
From a broken necklace.
Window
© Czeslaw Milosz
I looked out the window at dawn and saw a young apple tree
translucent in brightness.
Paeans
© Virna Sheard
Oh! I will hold fast to Joy!
I will not let him depart--
He shall close his beautiful rainbow wings
And sing his song in my heart.
"Phoebus was gone, all gone, his journey over"
© Pierre Reverdy
Phoebus was gone, all gone, his journey over.
His sister was riding high: nothing bridled her.
Her light was falling, shining into woods and rivers.
Wild animals opened their jaws wide, stirred to prey.
But in the human world all was sleep, pause, relaxation, torpor.
Wind Of The Night
© William Henry Ogilvie
Hark to the high wind's hunting horn!
The hounds of the night run mute and fast,
You may hear a branch from the beech-tree torn
As the Field goes tramping past ;
Where the moonlit miles lie silver white,
Luck to your hunting, wind of the night!
Well, You Needn’t
© William Matthews
Rather than hold his hands properly
arched off the keys, like cats
with their backs up,
Monk, playing block chords,
hit the keys with his fingertips well
above his wrists,
waiting on the mayflower
© Evie Shockley
“what, to the american slave, is your 4th of july?”
—frederick douglass
A Letter From Palestine
© Alice Guerin Crist
A letter from The East it came today,
And all the house is lightened of its gloom:
[He is pruning the privet]
© Joanne Kyger
simple country practices thunder
lightning, hail and rain eight Douglas Iris
ribbon layers of attention
The Raggedy Man
© James Whitcomb Riley
O the Raggedy Man! He works fer Pa;
An' he's the goodest man ever you saw!
The Black-Faced Sheep
© Donald Hall
My grandfather spent all day searching the valley
and edges of Ragged Mountain,
calling “Ke-day!” as if he brought you salt,
“Ke-day! Ke-day!”
The Bustle in a House (1108)
© Emily Dickinson
The Bustle in a House
The Morning after Death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted opon Earth –
A Pastoral Ballad. In Four Parts
© William Shenstone
Arbusta humilesque myrciae. ~ Virg.
Explanation.
Groves and lovely shrubs.
Bathed In War's Perfume
© Walt Whitman
BATHED in war's perfume-delicate flag!
(Should the days needing armies, needing fleets, come again,)
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 2
© Alfred Tennyson
Old Yew, which graspest at the stones
That name the under-lying dead,
Thy fibres net the dreamless head,
Thy roots are wrapt about the bones.
I Like You Lil
© George Ade
I fought I was hep to the whole string o' fairies
Not one o' the bunch could put me to the bad;
The Music Of The Rains English Translation
© Rabindranath Tagore
In rainy days
When it rains in pattering sounds
Similarity
© Piet Hein
No cow's like a horse,
and no horse like a cow.
That's one similarity, anyhow.
From the Wave
© Thom Gunn
It mounts at sea, a concave wall
Down-ribbed with shine,
And pushes forward, building tall
Its steep incline.