All Poems

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Death and the Lady

© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

TURN in, my lord, she said ;
As it were the Father of Sin
I have hated the Father of the Dead,
The slayer of my kin ;
By the Father of the Living led,
Turn in, my lord, turn in.

The Spider Queen

© Edith Nesbit

IN the deep heart of furthest fairyland
Where foot of man has never trodden yet
The enchanted portals of her palace stand,
And there her sleepless sentinels are set.

French Pioneers

© Stephen Vincent Benet

New France, New Spain, New England
Which will it be?
Who will win the new land?
The land across the sea?

When wintry winds are no more heard,
And joy's in every bosom,
When summer sings in every bird,
And shines in every blossom,
When happy twilight hours are long,
Come home, my love, and think no wrong!

Shifting Camp

© Rex Ingamells

Glint of gumtrees in the dawn,

so million coloured: bush wind-borne

Blue and White

© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

BLUE is Our Ladys colour,
White is Our Lords.
To-morrow I will wear a knot
Of blue and white cords,
That you may see it, where you ride
Among the flashing swords.

To The Canary Bird

© Jones Very

I cannot hear thy voice with others' ears,

Who make of thy lost liberty a gain;

After St. Augustine

© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

Sunshine let it be or frost,
Storm or calm, as Thou shalt choose;
Though Thine every gift were lost,
Thee Thyself we could not lose.

Affection

© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

The earth that made the rose,
She also is thy mother, and not I.
The flame wherewith thy maiden spirit glows
Was lighted at no hearth that I sit by.
I am as far below as heaven above thee.
Were I thine angel, more I could not love thee.

Que Sea Para Bien

© Ramon Lopez Velarde

Ya no puedo dudar… Diste muerte a mi cándida
Niñez, toda olorosa a sacristía, y también
Diste muerte al liviano chacal de mi cartuja.
Que sea para bien…

He came unto His own, and His own received Him not

© Mary Elizabeth Coleridge

As Christ the Lord was passing by,
He came, one night, to a cottage door.
He came, a poor man, to the poor;
He had no bed whereon to lie.

He Has Lived In Many Houses

© Thomas Lux

furnished rooms, flats, a hayloft,
a tent, motels, under a table,
under an overturned rowboat, in a villa (briefly) but not,
as yet, a yurt. In these places

Marine Snow At Mid-Depths And Down

© Thomas Lux

As you descend, slowly, falling faster past
you this snow,
ghostly, some flakes bio-
luminescent (you plunge,

Love

© Pierre Louys

Alas! if I think of her, my throat becomes
dry, my hand falls back, my breasts harden and
hurt, and I shiver and cry as I walk. If I
see her, my heart stops and my hands tremble,

Unlike, For Example, The Sound Of A Riptooth Saw

© Thomas Lux

gnawing through a shinbone, a high howl
inside of which a bloody, slashed-by-growls note
is heard, unlike that
sound, and instead, its opposite: a barely sounded

Spiritual Laws

The living Heaven thy prayers respect,

House at once and architect,

Motel Seedy

© Thomas Lux

The artisans of this room, who designed the lamp base
(a huge red slug with a hole
where its heart should be) or chose this print
of a butterscotch sunset,