Love poems

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To know just how He suffered -- would be dear --

© Emily Dickinson

To know just how He suffered -- would be dear --
To know if any Human eyes were near
To whom He could entrust His wavering gaze --
Until it settle broad -- on Paradise --

To fight aloud, is very brave

© Emily Dickinson

To fight aloud, is very brave --
But gallanter, I know
Who charge within the bosom
The Cavalry of Woe --

Is it too late to touch you, Dear?

© Emily Dickinson

Is it too late to touch you, Dear?
We this moment knew --
Love Marine and Love terrene --
Love celestial too --

I measure every Grief I meet

© Emily Dickinson

I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, Eyes --
I wonder if It weighs like Mine --
Or has an Easier size.

Water, is taught by thirst.

© Emily Dickinson

Water, is taught by thirst.
Land -- by the Oceans passed.
Transport -- by throe --
Peace -- by its battles told --
Love, by Memorial Mold --
Birds, by the Snow.

The Bustle in a House

© Emily Dickinson

The Bustle in a House
The Morning after Death
Is solemnest of industries
Enacted upon Earth --

If those I loved were lost

© Emily Dickinson

If those I loved were lost
The Crier's voice would tell me --
If those I loved were found
The bells of Ghent would ring --

This is my letter to the World

© Emily Dickinson

This is my letter to the World
That never wrote to Me --
The simple News that Nature told --
With tender Majesty

You love me -- you are sure

© Emily Dickinson

I need not start -- you're sure --
That night will never be --
When frightened -- home to Thee I run --
To find the windows dark --
And no more Dollie -- mark --
Quite none?

Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,
Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine!Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain.
All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air,

The house where I was born (10)

© Yves Bonnefoy

And then life; and once again
A house where I was born. Around us
The granary above what once had been a church,
The gentle play of shadow from the dawn clouds,

The house where I was born (03)

© Yves Bonnefoy

I woke up, it was the house where I was born,
It was night, trees were crowding
On all sides around our door,
I was alone on the doorstep in the cold wind,

The house where I was born (09)

© Yves Bonnefoy

And then the day came
When I heard the extraordinary lines in Keats,
The evocation of Ruth when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn.

Those Annual Bills

© Mark Twain

These annual bills! these annual bills!
How many a song their discord trills
Of "truck" consumed, enjoyed, forgot,
Since I was skinned by last year's lot!

Ode to Stephen Bowling Dots, Dec'd

© Mark Twain

And did young Stephen sicken,
And did young Stephen die?
And did the sad hearts thicken,
And did the mourners cry?

The Widening Spell Of Leaves

© Larry Levis

--The Carpathian Frontier, October, 1968
--for my brotherOnce, in a foreign country, I was suddenly ill.
I was driving south toward a large city famous
For so little it had a replica, in concrete,

Those Graves In Rome

© Larry Levis

There are places where the eye can starve,
But not here. Here, for example, is
The Piazza Navona, & here is his narrow room
Overlooking the Steps & the crowds of sunbathing

Burning the Doll

Father, this was our deepest confession of love.
I didn't watch the plastic body melt
to soft flesh in the flames "
I watched you move from the house to the fire.
I would have given you anything.

On Faith

How do people stay true to each other?
When I think of my parents all those years
in the unmade bed of their marriage, not ever
longing for anything else or: no, they must