All Poems

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The Swallows

© John Jay Chapman

THE hills of Camden mile on mile
Fling their green mantle o'er the bay;
The dark waves dance about the isle
Where we have nested many a day.
The shadows mount; the air is chill;
Away!

Jeduthan Hawley

© Edgar Lee Masters

There would be a knock at the door
And I would arise at midnight and go to the shop,
Where belated travelers would hear me hammering
Sepulchral boards and tacking satin.

The Town Marshal

© Edgar Lee Masters

The Prohibitionists made me Town Marshal
When the saloons were voted out,
Because when I was a drinking man,
Before I joined the church, I killed a Swede

After The Visit

© Thomas Hardy

Come again to the place

Where your presence was as a leaf that skims

Batterson Dobyns

© Edgar Lee Masters

Did my widow flit about
From Mackinac to Los Angeles,
Resting and bathing and sitting an hour
Or more at the table over soup and meats

To these few words, it seems to me,
A wealth of sound instruction clings;
O Learn to Take things easily --
Espeshly Other People's Things;
And Time will make your fingers deft
At what is know as Petty Theft.

Mickey M'Grew

© Edgar Lee Masters

It was just like everything else in life:
Something outside myself drew me down,
My own strength never failed me.
Why, there was the time I earned the money

With Mercy for the Greedy

© Anne Sexton

I pray to its shadow,
that gray place
where it lies on your letter… deep, deep.
I detest my sins and I try to believe
in The Cross. I touch its tender hips, its dark jawed face,
its solid neck, its brown sleep.

Hiram Scates

© Edgar Lee Masters

I tried to win the nomination
For president of the County-board
And I made speeches all over the County
Denouncing Solomon Purple, my rival,

If One Might Live

© Ethelwyn Wetherald

If one might live ten years among the leaves,

Tenonly tenof all a life's long day,

Elegy XX. He Compares His Humble Fortune With the Distress of Others

© William Shenstone

Why droops this heart with fancied woes forlorn?
Why sinks my soul beneath this wintry sky?
What pensive crowds, by ceaseless labours worn,
What myriads, wish to be as blessed as I!

Henry Tripp

© Edgar Lee Masters

The bank broke and I lost my savings.
I was sick of the tiresome game in Spoon River
And I made up my mind to run away
And leave my place in life and my family;

Report From Paradise

© Zbigniew Herbert

In paradise the work week is fixed at thirty hours
salaries are higher prices steadily go down
manual labour is not tiring (because of reduced gravity)
chopping wood is no harder than typing
the social system is stable and the rulers are wise
really in paradise one is better off than in whatever country

John M. Church

I was attorney for the "Q"
And the Indemnity Company which insured
The owners of the mine.
I pulled the wires with judge and jury,

Integrity

Immortal life is something to be earned,

By slow, self-conquest, comradeship with pain,

Dream Song 114: Henry in trouble whirped out lonely whines

Henry in trouble whirped out lonely whines.
When ich when was ever not in trouble?
But did he whip out whines
afore? And when check in wif ales & lifelines
anyone earlier O?Some, now, Mr Bones,
many.I am fleeing double:

Edmund Pollard

I would I had thrust my hands of flesh
Into the disk-flowers bee-infested,
Into the mirror-like core of fire
Of the light of life, the sun of delight.