All Poems
/ page 2376 of 3210 /At the Gym
© Mark Doty
This salt-stain spot
marks the place where men
lay down their heads,
back to the bench,
The Christian Slave
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A CHRISTIAN! going, gone!
Who bids for God's own image? for his grace,
Which that poor victim of the market-place
Hath in her suffering won?
Grenley Water
© William Barnes
The sheädeless darkness o' the night
Can never blind my mem'ry's zight;
The Embrace
© Mark Doty
You weren't well or really ill yet either;
just a little tired, your handsomeness
tinged by grief or anticipation, which brought
to your face a thoughtful, deepening grace.
A Sonnet
© Francis Beaumont
Flattering Hope, away and leave me,
She'll not come, thou dost deceive me;
Hark the cock crows, th' envious light
Chides away the silent night;
Yet she comes not, oh ! how I tire
Betwixt cold fear and hot desire.
A Display Of Mackeral
© Mark Doty
They lie in parallel rows,
on ice, head to tail,
each a foot of luminosity
barred with black bands,
which divide the scales'
radiant sections
To Jane: The Invitation
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Best and brightest, come away!
Fairer far than this fair Day,
Which, like thee to those in sorrow,
Comes to bid a sweet good-morrow
The Vagaries of Fishes
© Judith Skillman
After they passed beneath us I could tell
more would be coming, beneath the sand,
under the bejeweled sky, under the first
layer of earth where water exists
Nightfall
© Robert Fuller Murray
Let me sleep. The day is past,
And the folded shadows keep
Weary mortals safe and fast.
Let me sleep.
My Love, Oh, She Is My Love
© Douglas Hyde
SHE casts a spell, oh, casts a spell!
Which haunts me more than I can tell.
Bourne
© Judith Skillman
When the Cherry
rustles above her head
she hardly realizes
why she leaves
her clothes on the rocks,
The Raft
© Vachel Lindsay
A banjo and a hymn are heard afar.
No solace on the lazy shore excels
The Duke's blue castle with its steamer-bells.
The floor is running water, and the roof
The stars' brocade with cloudy warp and woof.
Field Thistle
© Judith Skillman
A raucous noise,
the dawn of great beauty
and he with his tripod
matting the grasses as he walked.
Distress Coils
© Judith Skillman
Poem by Anne-Marie Derése, translated by Judith Skillman.The waiting volcano inside us
gnaws, digs, trembles,
weighs its chances.
Distress coils up,
The Spring
© William Barnes
When wintry weather's all a-done,
An' brooks do sparkle in the zun,
An' naisy-builden rooks do vlee
Wi' sticks toward their elem tree;
La dètresse s'enroule
© Judith Skillman
Poem by Anne-Marie Derése.Le volcan en attente au fond de nous
ronge, creuse, tremble,
soupése ses chances.
La dètresse s'enroule,
The North And The South
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I
"Now give us lands where the olives grow,"
Cried the North to the South,
"Where the sun with a golden mouth can blow
Blow bubbles of grapes down a vineyard-row!"
Cried the North to the South.
You've given me a weapon
© Judith Skillman
Poem by Anne-Marie Derése, translated by Judith Skillman.You've given me a weapon.
you've flung your words
into the human herd
like stones.