Amazing poems

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Hoping With Care

© Ivan Donn Carswell

We are honored and humble and earnest to share
in events which would happen
although we weren’t there, a trifling thing
as it were we are sure but amazing

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Crying to be written

© Ivan Donn Carswell

Dawn has reached the ridges to the north and a thin
line of light chased the night west; it is the best
time of day for me – a cup of coffee, Benson & Scud
pretending to sleep in their baskets at my feet,

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The House Of Dust: Part 04: 03: Palimpsest: A Deceitful Portrait

© Conrad Aiken

Or 'one day dies eventless as another,
Leaving the seeker still unsatisfied,
And more convinced life yields no satisfaction'?
Or 'seek too hard, the sight at length grows callous,
And beauty shines in vain'?—

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The House Of Dust: Part 03: 11: Conversation: Undertones

© Conrad Aiken

What shall we talk of? Li Po? Hokusai?
You narrow your long dark eyes to fascinate me;
You smile a little. . . .Outside, the night goes by.
I walk alone in a forest of ghostly trees . . .
Your pale hands rest palm downwards on your knees.

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The House Of Dust: Part 03: 07: Porcelain

© Conrad Aiken

Study them . . . you will see there, in the porcelain,
If you stare hard enough, a sort of swimming
Of lights and shadows, ghosts within a crystal—
My brain unfolding! There you'll see me sitting
Day after day, close to a certain window,
Looking down, sometimes, to see the people . . .

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The House Of Dust: Complete (Long)

© Conrad Aiken

. . . Parts of this poem have been printed in "The North American
Review, Others, Poetry, Youth, Coterie, The Yale Review". . . . I am
indebted to Lafcadio Hearn for the episode called "The Screen Maiden"
in Part II.

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Senlin: His Futile Preoccupations

© Conrad Aiken

Vine leaves tap my window,
Dew-drops sing to the garden stones,
The robin chips in the chinaberry tree
Repeating three clear tones.

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Gin

© Philip Levine

The first time I drank gin
I thought it must be hair tonic.
My brother swiped the bottle
from a guy whose father owned

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Snowbirds

© Peter Conners

My maternal grandparents were snowbirds; the scent of their plumage an evergreen air freshener dangling off the rearview mirror of a Cadillac

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Year's End

© Marilyn Hacker

Twice in my quickly disappearing forties
someone called while someone I loved and I were
making love to tell me another woman had died of cancer.

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Bonnie Callander

© William Topaz McGonagall

And as for Bracklinn Falls, they are impressive to sight,
Especially the Keltie, which will the visitor's heart delight,
With its bonnie banks bordered with beautiful trees,
And the effect would be sure the spectator to please.

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The Ballad Of The Brand

© Robert William Service

'Twas up in a land long famed for gold, where women were far and rare,
Tellus, the smith, had taken to wife a maiden amazingly fair;
Tellus, the brawny worker in iron, hairy and heavy of hand,
Saw her and loved her and bore her away from the tribe of a Southern land;
Deeming her worthy to queen his home and mother him little ones,
That the name of Tellus, the master smith, might live in his stalwart sons.

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The Lark

© Robert William Service

From wrath-red dawn to wrath-red dawn,
The guns have brayed without abate;
And now the sick sun looks upon
The bleared, blood-boltered fields of hate

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Men Of The High North

© Robert William Service

Men of the High North, the wild sky is blazing;
Islands of opal float on silver seas;
Swift splendors kindle, barbaric, amazing;
Pale ports of amber, golden argosies.

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Ai

© Denise Duhamel

There is a chimp named Ai who can count to five.
There's a poet named Ai whose selected poems Vice
just won the National Book Award.
The name "Ai" is pronounced "I"

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The Hammers

© Amy Lowell

I
Frindsbury, Kent, 1786
Bang!
Bang!

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Holy Sonnet XIII: What If This Present Were The World's Last Night?

© John Donne

What if this present were the world's last night?
Mark in my heart, O soul, where thou dost dwell,
The picture of Christ crucified, and tell
Whether that countenance can thee affright,

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To the Queen.

© Anne Killigrew

I saw that Pitch was not sublime,
Compar'd with this which now I climb;
His Glories sunk, and were unseen,
When once appear'd the Heav'n-born Queen:
Victories, Laurels, Conquer'd Kings,
Took place among inferiour things.

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Editorial Impressions

© Siegfried Sassoon

He seemed so certain ‘all was going well’,
As he discussed the glorious time he’d had
While visiting the trenches.
‘One can tell

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Essay on Man

© Alexander Pope

The First EpistleAwake, my ST. JOHN!(1) leave all meaner things
To low ambition, and the pride of Kings.
Let us (since Life can little more supply
Than just to look about us and to die)