Life poems

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The Palace-Burner

© Piatt Sarah Morgan Bryan

She has been burning palaces. ."To see The sparks look pretty in the wind?." Well, yes .-And something more. But women brave as she Leave much for cowards such as I to guess.

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The Coming of Eve

© Piatt Sarah Morgan Bryan

God gave the world to Man in the Beginning. Alone in Eden there and lord of allHe mused: "There may be one thing worth the winning. (All else is mine.) When will that Apple fall?

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Cyder

© Philips John

-- -- Honos erit huic quoq; Pomo? Virg.

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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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The Vow

© Peacock Molly

Every time you suffer disappointmentit makes me fall in love with you againbecause I almost cannot bear to seethe dumbstruck purity in your face benton figuring how or why you couldn't seeit coming

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The Spell

© Peacock Molly

The job in certain lives has been to find Away to live with feeling -- for just to Bthe selves they are requires them to Cthings they were forbidden to

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The Lull

© Peacock Molly

The possum lay on the tracks fully dead

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I Must Have Learned This Somewhere

© Peacock Molly

I loved an old doll made of bleachedwooden beads strung into a stick figure

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Good-bye Hello in the East Village 1993

© Peacock Molly

Three tables down from Allen Ginsberg we sitin JJ's Russian Restaurant

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A Favor of Love

© Peacock Molly

"Thank you for making this sacrifice," I say to my husband as I run to Kim's market

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The Rose

© John Payne

Let us go see, dear, if the rose,Which but this morning did uncloseHer crown of crimson in the sun,Have not this eventide laid downThe glories of her purple gownAnd colour peered (save thine) of none.

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Quia Multum Amavit

© John Payne

Just a drowned woman, with death-draggled hair And wan eyes, all a-stare;The weary limbs composed in ghastly rest, The hands together prest,Tight holding something that the flood has spared, Nor even the rough workhouse folk have dared To separate from her wholly, but untiedGently the knotted hands and laid it by her side

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In Memoriam "Rover", Ob. July 2, 1902

© John Payne

My little gentle cat, whose eyes no doveMight ever match for truth and tenderness,Whose life was one long effort to express,In thy mute speech, an overflowing love,The wavering love of women far above,I cannot think that death thy gentilesseHath ended all or that thy fond excessIn this thy ten years' span found scope enough

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Hélène

© John Payne

When you're grown old and sit before the fire at night,Devising, as you spin by candle-shine, you'll singThe rhymes I made of old and "Ronsard", marvelling

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Come, Let Us Die Like Men

© Patten George Washington

Roll out the banner on the air, And draw your swords of flame,The gathering squadrons fast prepare To take the field of fame!In serried ranks, your columns dun Close up along the glen;If we must die ere set of sun, Come, let us die like men

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Mid-America Prayer

© Ortiz Simon Joseph

Standing againwithin and among all things,Standing with each otheras sisters and brothers, mothers and fathers,daughters and sons, grandmothers and grandfathers --the past and present generations of our people,Standing againwith and among all items of life,the land, rivers, the mountains, plants, animals,all life that is around usthat we are included with,Standing within the circle of the horizon,the day sky and the night sky,the sun, moon, the cycle of seasonsand the earth mother which sustains us,Standing againwith all thingsthat have been in the past,that are in the present,and that will be in the futurewe acknowledge ourselvesto be in a relationship that is responsibleand proper, that is loving and compassionate,for the sake of the land and all people;we ask humbly of the creative forces of lifethat we be given a portionwith which to help ourselves so that our struggleand work will also be creativefor the continuance of life,Standing again, within, among all thingswe ask in all sincerity, for hope, courage, peace,strength, vision, unity and continuance

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Four Poems for a Child Son

© Ortiz Simon Joseph

WHATS YOUR INDIAN NAME?

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The Fly

© Oldys William

An Anacreontick

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A Satire, in Imitation of the Third of Juvenal

© John Oldham

Though much concern'd to leave my dear old friend,I must however his design commendOf fixing in the country: for were IAs free to choose my residence, as he;The Peak, the Fens, the Hundreds, or Land's End,I would prefer to Fleet Street, or the Strand

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Where the Brumbies Come to Water

© William Henry Ogilvie

There's a lonely grave half hidden where the blue-grass droops above,And the slab is rough that marks it, but we planted it for love;There's a well-worn saddle hanging in the harness-room at homeAnd a good old stock-horse waiting for the steps that never come;There's a mourning rank of riders closing in on either handO'er the vacant place he left us -- he, the best of all the band,Who is lying cold and silent with his hoarded hopes unwonWhere the brumbies come to water at the setting of the sun