All Poems
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Final Curve
© Langston Hughes
When you turn the corner
And you run into yourself
Then you know that you have turned
All the corners that are left
The Deserter
© Boris Vian
Mr. President
I'm writing you a letter
that perhaps you will read
If you have the time.
The Wanderer
© Sara Teasdale
I saw the sunset-colored sands,
The Nile, like flowing fire between,
Where Ramses stares forth serene
And ammon's heavy temple stands.
This
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
They say I pretend or lie
All I write. No such thing.
It simply is that I
Feel by imagining.
I don't use the heart-string.
As It Begins With A Brush Stroke On A Snare Drum
© Larry Levis
The plaza was so still in that moment two years ago that
everything was clear,
As if it had been preserved beneath a kind of lacquered
stillness, &, for a while,
I did not even notice the pigeons lifting above the sad tiles
of churches,
And Now In Accents Deep And Low
© Washington Allston
And now, in accents deep and low,
Like voice of fondly-cherish'd woe,
She Was a Beauty
© Henry Cuyler Bunner
She was a beauty in the days
When Madison was President;
And quite coquettish in her ways
On cardiac conquests much intent.
Before Dawn
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
SWEET LIFE, if life were stronger,
Earth clear of years that wrong her,
A Legend Of Tintagel Castle
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
ALONE in the forest, Sir Lancelot rode
O'er the neck of his courser the reins lightly flowed
And beside hung his helmet, for bare was his brow
To meet the soft breeze that was fanning him now.
Ultima Thule: The Sifting Of Peter
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In St. Luke's Gospel we are told
How Peter in the days of old
Was sifted;
And now, though ages intervene,
Sin is the same, while time and scene
Are shifted.
Night-Blooming Jasmine
© Giovanni Pascoli
And the night-blooming flowers open,
open in the same hour I remember those I love.
In the middle of the viburnums
the twilight butterflies have appeared.
Fragment: Milton's Spirit
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I dreamed that Milton's spirit rose, and took
From life's green tree his Uranian lute;
And from his touch sweet thunder flowed, and shook
All human things built in contempt of man,--
And sanguine thrones and impious altars quaked,
Prisons and citadels...
Drought
© Francis William Bourdillon
For rain, for rain the parched lands cry,
Reproachful to the cloudless sky.
The hot white fields in light are blinking,
The rivers in their beds are shrinking.
The Rose is not fair
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
THE rose is not fair without the beloved's face,
Nor merry the Spring without the sweet laughter of wine;
The path through the fields, and winds from a flower strewn place,
Without her bright check, which glows like a tulip fine,
Nor winds softly blowing, fields deep in corn, are fair.
She staked her FeathersGained an Arc
© Emily Dickinson
She staked her FeathersGained an Arc
DebatedRose again
This timebeyond the estimate
Of Envy, or of Men
"'Naar Jeg gienvordighed og tiden vil fordrifve"
© Jens Steen Sehested
Naar Jeg gienvordighed og tiden vil fordrifve,
Da gaar Jeg til min skat, som mig til rede staar,
Lilly-Willy-Woken
© Henry Clay Work
Broke! Broke! Broken!
Your stubborn will is broken
You will dance no more on the sable floor,
O Lilly Willy Woken!
