Women poems
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Deus Abconditus
© Zitner Sheldon
Where women groan in labour He does not goto uncurl the clubfoot or forestall dementia,
Will and Testament
© Isabella Whitney
The Aucthour (though loth to leave the Citie)vpon her Friendes procurement, is constrainedto departe: wherfore (she fayneth as she would die)and maketh her WYLL and Testæment, as foloweth:With large Legacies of such Goods and richeswhich she moste aboundantly hath left behind her:and therof maketh LONDON sole executor to seher Legacies performed
To her Sister Mistress A. B.
© Isabella Whitney
Because I to my brethern wrote and to my sisters two:Good sister Anne, you this might wote, if so I should not doTo you, or ere I parted hence,You vainly had bestowed expence.
America
© Whitfield James Monroe
America , it is to thee,Thou boasted land of liberty, --It is to thee I raise my song,Thou land of blood, and crime, and wrong
Youth in Age
© Ethelwyn Wetherald
When younger women stand a breathing space Before their mirrors, with an inward smile At burnished hair or slender throat or wileOf dimpled chin, or nest a rose in laceAnd note how perfectly it mates the face, I, pallid, worn and hollow-templed, pile My heart with thoughts of secret triumphs, whileYoung hopes are mine, young bliss and youth's light pace
Aunt Chloe
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
1.1I remember, well remember,1.2 That dark and dreadful day,1.3When they whispered to me, "Chloe,1.4 Your children's sold away!"
Locksley Hall Sixty Years After
© Alfred Tennyson
Late, my grandson! half the morning have I paced these sandy tracts,Watch'd again the hollow ridges roaring into cataracts,
Atalanta in Calydon: A Tragedy (complete text)
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
Tous zontas eu dran. katthanon de pas anerGe kai skia. to meden eis ouden repei
What's the Good?
© Studdert Kennedy Geoffrey Anketell
Well, I've done my bit o' scrappin', And I've done in quite a lot;Nicked 'em neatly wiv my bayonet, So I needn't waste a shot
Pugnax Gives Notice
© Starnino Carmine
He’s done with it, the tridents and tigers,the manager’s greed, the sumptuous bedsof noble women who please their own moods
On the Obsolescence of Caphone
© Starnino Carmine
Last heard—with a lovely hiss on the "ph"—August 1982 during an afternoon game of scopaturned nasty. And now, missing alongside it,are hundreds of slogans, shibboleths, small
From the Life
© Stallworthy Jon
"All this takes place on a hilly island in the Mediterranean," Picasso said
In Rainy September
© Robert Bly
In rainy September when leaves grow down to the dark
I put my forehead down to the damp seaweed-smelling sand.
What can we do but choose? The only way for human beings
is to choose. The fern has no choice but to live;
for this crime it receives earth water and night.
