Poems begining by B

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Burning Oneself Out

© Adrienne Rich

the crimson-flittered grey ash, yes.
I know inside my eyelids
and underneath my skin

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Bachchay (Kids)

© Tanwir Phool

Bachchay hamaara kal haiN


Ham paiR haiN,woh phal haiN

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Benevolence

© Allama Muhammad Iqbal

Saying that-
Over me the night is past
And in pecking day is lost!

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Barmaid

© William Ernest Henley

Though, if you ask her name, she says Elise,

Being plain Elizabeth, e'en let it pass,

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Bridal Song

© John Gould Fletcher

ROSES, their sharp spines being gone,
Not royal in their smells alone,
But in their hue;
Maiden pinks, of odour faint,
Daisies smell-less, yet most quaint,
And sweet thyme true;

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Beauty Clear and Fair

© John Gould Fletcher

BEAUTY clear and fair,
Where the air
Rather like a perfume dwells;
Where the violet and the rose
Their blue veins and blush disclose,
And come to honour nothing else:

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Borrowing

© Ralph Waldo Emerson


SOME of the hurts you have cured
And the sharpest you still have survived
But what torments of grief you endured
From evils which never arrived!

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Blood Money

© Syl Cheney-Coker

Along the route of this river,


with a little luck, we shall chance upon

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Ballade des Dames du Temps Jadis

© Francois Villon

Dictes moy où, n'en quel pays,Est Flora, la belle Romaine;Archipiada, ne Thaïs,Qui fut sa cousine germaine;Echo, parlant quand bruyt on maineDessus riuière ou sus estan,Qui beauté ot trop plus qu'humaine?Mais où sont les neiges d'antan!

Où est la tres sage Helloïs,Pour qui fut chastré et puis moynePierre Esbaillart à Sainct-Denys?Pour son amour ot cest essoyne

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Balade à sa mère, pour prier nostre Dame

© Francois Villon

Dame du ciel, regente terrienne,Emperiere des infernaux palus,Recevez moy, vostre humble chrestienne,Que comprinse soye entre vos eslus,Ce non obstant qu'oncques rien ne valus

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Ballade Made for his Mother that She mighte Praye toe our Ladye

© Thorley Wilfred Charles

Ladye of heaven that o'er earth hath swaye And of Hell's marshes art most Royal Reeve,Grant toe thy humble Christian that doth praye

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Battle of Brunanburh

© Alfred Tennyson

Constantinus, King of the Scots, after having sworn allegiance to Athelstan, allied himself with the Danes of Ireland under Anlaf, and invading England, was defeated by Athelstan and his brother Edmund with great slaughter at Brunanburh in the year 937

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Ballade un peu banale

© Arthur James Marshall Smith

The bellow of good Master Bull Astoundeth gentil CowThat standeth in the meadow cool Where cuckoo singeth now.

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Buried Life, The

© Matthew Arnold

Ah! well for us, if even we,
Even for a moment, can get free
Our heart, and have our lips unchain'd;
For that which seals them hath been deep-ordain'd!

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Beauty's Helicon

© Rowley Rosemarie

I've had practice with sleeping with those who do not please me,I've had oceans of despair in my cup of pain,I do not try to please who do not please me,They cause storms, and trigger fissures in the brain,

So when I know my true love by his hand,I'll set in stone my long list of his beauty,Release into the air the demons of that bandWho say the ugly are forgetful of their duty,

To live a life of honour, but not lust,To be the clerk of passion, and its ways,To write the bibliographies in dust,To caption beauty in the prison of their days,

As my true love and I practice the rationOf beauty, that makes fidelity a passion

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Blue

© Chris Abani

Africans in the hold fold themselves
to make room for hope. In the afternoon’s
ferocity, tar, grouting the planks like the glue
of family, melts to the run of a child’s licorice stick.

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Bleinheim, a Poem

© Philips John

From low and abject themes the grov'ling museNow mounts aërial, to sing of armsTriumphant, and emblaze the martial actsOf Britain's hero; may the verse not sinkBeneath his merits, but detain a whileThy ear, O Harley, (though thy country's wealDepends on thee, though mighty Anne requiresThy hourly counsels) since with ev'ry artThy self adorn'd, the mean essays of youthThou wilt not damp, but guide, wherever found,The willing genius to the muses' seat:Therefore thee first, and last, the muse shall sing

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Burning River

© Ortiz Simon Joseph

I will tell my son over and over again,"Do not let the rivers burn

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Blind Curse

© Ortiz Simon Joseph

You could drive blindfor those two secondsand they would be forever