Poetry poems

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The Mutes

© Denise Levertov

Those groans men use
passing a woman on the street
or on the steps of the subway

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The Secret

© Denise Levertov

Two girls discover
the secret of life
in a sudden line of
poetry.

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Letter To S.S. From Mametz Wood

© Robert Graves

I never dreamed we’d meet that day 

In our old haunts down Fricourt way, 

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The House Of Dust: Introduction

© Conrad Aiken

. . . Parts of this poem have been printed in "The North American
Review, Others, Poetry, Youth, Coterie, The Yale Review". . . . I am
indebted to Lafcadio Hearn for the episode called "The Screen Maiden"
in Part II.

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The House Of Dust: Complete (Long)

© Conrad Aiken

. . . Parts of this poem have been printed in "The North American
Review, Others, Poetry, Youth, Coterie, The Yale Review". . . . I am
indebted to Lafcadio Hearn for the episode called "The Screen Maiden"
in Part II.

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The Birds by Linda Pastan: American Life in Poetry #86 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006

© Ted Kooser

Linda Pastan, who lives in Maryland, is a master of the kind of water-clear writing that enables us to see into the depths. This is a poem about migrating birds, but also about how it feels to witness the passing of another year.


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A Fit of Rhyme against Rhyme

© Benjamin Jonson

Rhyme, the rack of finest wits,

 That expresseth but by fits

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To Mr. Rowland Woodward

© John Donne

LIKE one who in her third widowhood doth profess
Herself a nun, tied to retiredness,
So affects my Muse, now, a chaste fallowness.

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Snowbound, a Winter Idyl

© John Greenleaf Whittier

To the Memory of the Household It DescribesThis Poem is Dedicated by the Author"As the Spirit of Darkness be stronger in the dark, so Good Spirits, which be Angels of Light, are augmented not only by the Divine light of the Sun, but also by our common Wood Fire: and as the Celestial Fire drives away dark spirits, so also this our fire of Wood doth the same."
Cor. Agrippa, Occult Philosophy, Book I, ch. v.
"Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,

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Jubilate Agno: Fragment B, Part 3

© Christopher Smart

For a Man is to be looked upon in that which he excells as on a prospect.

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How A Cat Was Annoyed And A Poet Was Booted

© Guy Wetmore Carryl

A poet had a cat. 

There is nothing odd in that— 

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The Copper Beech by Marie Howe: American Life in Poetry #66 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006

© Ted Kooser

Some of the most telling poetry being written in our country today has to do with the smallest and briefest of pleasures. Here Marie Howe of New York captures a magical moment: sitting in the shelter of a leafy tree with the rain falling all around.

The Copper Beech

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Hudibras: Part 2 - Canto III

© Samuel Butler

Doubtless the pleasure is as great
Of being cheated as to cheat;
As lookers-on feel most delight,
That least perceive a jugler's slight;
And still the less they understand,
The more th' admire his slight of hand.

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Poetry, A Natural Thing

© Robert Duncan

Neither our vices nor our virtues
further the poem. “They came up
  and died
just like they do every year
  on the rocks.”

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The Poetry Of Coleridge

© George Meredith

A brook glancing under green leaves, self-delighting, exulting,
And full of a gurgling melody ever renewed -
Renewed thro' all changes of Heaven, unceasing in sunlight,
Unceasing in moonlight, but hushed in the beams of the holier orb.

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May 26

© David Lehman

In Rotterdam I'm
going to speak about
the state of poetry
on a panel with a Pole

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April 24

© David Lehman

Did you know that Evian spelled backwards is naive?
I myself was unaware of this fact until last Tuesday night
when John Ashbery, Marc Cohen, and Eugene Richie
gave a poetry reading and I introduced them

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July 12

© David Lehman

Wisteria, hysteria is as obvious a rhyme
as Viagra and Niagara there must be a reason
honeymooners traditionally went to the Falls
which were, said the divine Oscar,

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To The Author Of Glare

© David Lehman

There comes a time when the story turns into twenty
different stories and soon after that he academy of shadows
retreats to the cave of a solitary boy in a thriving

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December 7

© David Lehman

As I sit at my desk wishing
I did not have to edit a book
on poetry and painting a
subject that fascinates me