All Poems
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45 Mercy Street
© Anne Sexton
In my dream,
drilling into the marrow
of my entire bone,
my real dream,
The Lanes Of Boyhood
© Edgar Albert Guest
DOWN the lanes of boyhood, let me go once more,
Let me tread the paths of youth that I have trod before;
Let me wander once again where the skies are bright,
Freckled face and tanned of leg, roadways of delight,
Picking checkerberries as I laze along the way,
Hunting for the robin's nest dozing in the hay.
Anna Who Was Mad
© Anne Sexton
Anna who was mad,
I have a knife in my armpit.
When I stand on tiptoe I tap out messages.
Am I some sort of infection?
Baby Picture
© Anne Sexton
It's in the heart of the grape
where that smile lies.
It's in the good-bye-bow in the hair
where that smile lies.
Kenmare River
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
'Tis pretty to be in Ballinderry,
'Tis pretty to be in Ballindoon,
The Andante Of Snakes
© Arthur Symons
They weave a slow andante as in sleep,
Scaled yellow, swampy black, plague-spotted white;
With blue and lidless eyes at watch they keep
A treachery of silence; infinite
The Starry Night
© Anne Sexton
The town does not exist
except where one black-haired tree slips
up like a drowned woman into the hot sky.
The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die.
Good-Night
© Edward Thomas
The skylarks are far behind that sang over the down;
I can hear no more those suburb nightingales;
Thrushes and blackbirds sing in the gardens of the town
In vain: the noise of man, beast, and machine prevails.
"Daddy" Warbucks
© Anne Sexton
In MemoriamWhat's missing is the eyeballs
in each of us, but it doesn't matter
because you've got the bucks, the bucks, the bucks.
You let me touch them, fondle the green faces
Suicide Note
© Anne Sexton
Once upon a time
my hunger was for Jesus.
O my hunger! My hunger!
Before he grew old
he rode calmly into Jerusalem
in search of death.
Lovers Parted
© Lesbia Harford
Old memories waken old desires
Infallibly. While we're alive
With eye or ear or sense at all,
Sometimes, must love revive.
Courage
© Anne Sexton
It is in the small things we see it.
The child's first step,
as awesome as an earthquake.
The first time you rode a bike,
Idea LI: Calling to mind since first my love begun
© Michael Drayton
Calling to mind since first my love begun,
Th' incertain times oft varying in their course,
Cinderella
© Anne Sexton
You always read about it:
the plumber with the twelve children
who wins the Irish Sweepstakes.
From toilets to riches.
That story.
Now to be Still and Rest
© Peder Kofod Trojel
Now to be still and rest, while the heart remembers
All that is learned and loved in the days of long past,
To stoop and warm our hands at the fallen embers,
Glad to have come to the long ways end at last.
The Disputants
© William Carlos Williams
Upon the table in their bowl
in violent disarray
of yellow sprays, green spikes
of leaves, red pointed petals
Cramped In That Funnelled Hole
© Wilfred Owen
Cramped in that funnelled hole, they watched the dawn
Open a jagged rim around; a yawn
Of death's jaws, which had all but swallowed them
Stuck in the bottom of his throat of phlegm.
