Poems begining by M

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Math and Science

© Jack-Mellender

MATH & SCIENCE POEMS


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My truth of life

© KateZ

Never is so bad to be worst but everything bad is good for sth.

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Metaphors

© Antony

Daydreaming of better days.
Not asking for the sun to shine,
just a little less rain.

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Memoriam A. H. H.: 72. Risest thou thus, dim dawn, again

© Alfred Tennyson

Who might'st have heaved a windless flame
Up the deep East, or, whispering, play'd
A chequer-work of beam and shade
Along the hills, yet look'd the same.

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Memoriam A. H. H.: 67. When on my bed the moonlight fall

© Alfred Tennyson

And then I know the mist is drawn
A lucid veil from coast to coast,
And in the dark church like a ghost
Thy tablet glimmers to the dawn.

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Memoriam A. H. H.: 44. How fares it with the happy dead?

© Alfred Tennyson

If such a dreamy touch should fall,
O turn thee round, resolve the doubt;
My guardian angel will speak out
In that high place, and tell thee all.

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My Great Great Etc. Uncle Patrick Henry

© James Tate

There's a fortune to be made in just about everything

in this country, somebody's father had to invent

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My Felisberto

© James Tate

My felisberto is handsomer than your mergotroid,

although, admittedly, your mergotroid may be the wiser of the two.

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More Later, Less The Same

© James Tate

The common is unusually calm--they captured the storm

last night, it's sleeping in the stockade, relieved

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My Friend

© Rabindranath Tagore

Art thou abroad on this stormy night
on thy journey of love, my friend?
The sky groans like one in despair.

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My Mouth Hovers Across Your Breasts

© Adrienne Rich

My mouth hovers across your breasts

in the short grey winter afternoon

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Moving in Winter

© Adrienne Rich

Their life, collapsed like unplayed cards,

is carried piecemeal through the snow;

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Miracle Ice Cream

© Adrienne Rich

Miracle's truck comes down the little avenue,
Scott Joplin ragtime strewn behind it like pearls,
and, yes, you can feel happy
with one piece of your heart.

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Modern Love XXXIV: Madam Would Speak With Me

© George Meredith

Madam would speak with me. So, now it comes:

The Deluge or else Fire! She's well, she thanks

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Modern Love XXVI: Love Ere He Bleeds

© George Meredith

Love ere he bleeds, an eagle in high skies,

Has earth beneath his wings: from reddened eve

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Modern Love XXII: What May the Woman

© George Meredith

What may the woman labour to confess?

There is about her mouth a nervous twitch.

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Modern Love XX: I Am Not of Those

© George Meredith

I am not of those miserable males

Who sniff at vice and, daring not to snap,

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Modern Love XVI: In Our Old Shipwrecked Days

© George Meredith

In our old shipwrecked days there was an hour,

When in the firelight steadily aglow,

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Modern Love XLVI: At Last We Parley

© George Meredith

At last we parley: we so strangely dumb

In such a close communion! It befell

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Modern Love XIV: What Soul Would Bargain

© George Meredith

What soul would bargain for a cure that brings

Contempt the nobler agony to kill?