Mom poems

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Translation of Lucius Afranius "Auctio"

© MikeM70

Auctio

Simul límen intrabo, ílli extrabunt ílico. 
adeste, si híc absente nóbis uenierít puer.

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The Emigrants: Book I

© Charlotte Turner Smith

Scene, on the Cliffs to the Eastward of the Town of

Brighthelmstone in Sussex. Time, a Morning in November, 1792.

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Snow and Ice

© Quincy Troupe

ice sheets sweep this slick mirrored dark place

space as keys that turn in tight, trigger

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Alfred Lord Tennyson - The Coming Of Arthur

© Alfred Tennyson

Leodogran, the King of Cameliard,
Had one fair daughter, and none other child;
And she was the fairest of all flesh on earth,
Guinevere, and in her his one delight.

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Restless Leg Syndrome

© James Tate

After the burial

we returned to our units

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Like A Scarf

© James Tate

The directions to the lunatic asylum were confusing,

more likely they were the random associations

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Happy As The Day Is Long

© James Tate

I take the long walk up the staircase to my secret room.

Today's big news: they found Amelia Earhart's shoe, size 9.

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Spring Beauties

© Ruth Stone

The abandoned campus,


empty brick buildings and early June

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The Recollection

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

NOW the last day of many days,


All beautiful and bright as thou,

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Nothing Can Come Between Us

© Tupac Shakur

Lets not talk of money


let us 4 get the world

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Life Through My Eyes

© Tupac Shakur

Life through my bloodshot eyes


would scare a square 2 death

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The Working Party

© Siegfried Sassoon

Three hours ago, he stumbled up the trench;
Now he will never walk that road again:
He must be carried back, a jolting lump
Beyond all needs of tenderness and care.

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The Second Elegy

© Rainer Maria Rilke

If only we too could discover a pure contained
human place our own strip of fruit-bearing soil
between river and rock. For our own heart always exceeds us
as theirs did. And we can no longer follow it gazing
into images that soothe it into the godlike bodies
where measured more greatly if achieves a greater repose.

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November 1968

© Adrienne Rich

Stripped
you're beginning to float free
up through the smoke of brushfires
and incinerators
the unleafed branches won't hold you
nor the radar aerials

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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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From an Atlas of the Difficult World

© Adrienne Rich

I know you are reading this poem

late, before leaving your office

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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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Envoi

© Ezra Pound

Go, dumb-born book,

Tell her that sang me once that song of Lawes:

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Rubaiyat

© Tanwir Phool

Jo lamHa guzartaa hai who keya detaa hai?
Dauraaniya-e-zeest bataa detaa hai
Aie Phool ! ghaTaa umr se ik aur baras
Jaataa huwaa har saal sadaa detaa hai

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Song of Sorrow

© Olu Oguibe


I shall sing you a song of
Sorrow when the moment comes.
It is the way of poets.