All Poems

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3210

Insomnia

© Hall Kate

If I were to sleep, it would be on an iron bed,bolted to the floor in a bomb-proof concrete roomwith twelve locks on the door

Virgidemiarum: Book I, Satire III

With some pot-fury, ravish'd from their wit,They sit and muse on some no-vulgar writ:As frozen dunghills in a winter's morn,That void of vapours seemed all beforn,Soon as the sun sends out his piercing beams,Exhale out filthy smoke and stinking steams;So doth the base, and the fore-barren brain,Soon as the raging wine begins to reign

Mary's Lamb

© Hale Sarah Josepha

Mary had a little lamb, Its fleece was white as snow,And every where that Mary went The lamb was sure to go;He followed her to school one day -- That was against the rule,It made the children laugh and play To see a lamb at school

[Did you love well what very soon you left?]

© Marilyn Hacker

Did you well what very soon you left?Come home and take me in your arms and take

The Traveler

© Guiterman Arthur

Oh, who would choose to be a traveler? --That anxious railway-guide unravelerWho spends his nights in berths and bunks,His days in chaperoning trunks;Who stands in line at gates and wicketsTo spend his means on costly ticketsTo Irkutsk, Liverpool and YapAnd other dots upon the map

Strictly Germ-Proof

© Guiterman Arthur

The Antiseptic Baby and the Prophylactic PupWere playing in the garden when the Bunny gamboled up;They looked upon the Creature with a loathing undisguised; -It wasn't Disinfected and it wasn't Sterilized

Sex

© Guiterman Arthur

Amœbas at the start Were not complex;They tore themselves apart And started Sex.

Safety First

© Guiterman Arthur

The Deer don't dine When a Wolf's about,And the Porcupine Sticks his quill-points out.

Rags and Robes

© Whitney Adeline Dutton Train

"Hark, hark! The dogs do bark;Beggars are coming to town: Some in rags, Some in tags,And some in velvet gowns!"

Radiolatry

© Guiterman Arthur

The worst of all idolators Are zealous radiolatersWho wreck the peace of erstwhile happy homes With drool of variometers, Detectors, galvanometers,Antennae, switches, batteries and ohms.

The Phlebotomous Flea

© Guiterman Arthur

A Flea who felt phlebotomousAssailed a Hippopotamus; The Hippo, he Sat on the Flea,And, goodness gracious! what a muss!

The Passionate Suburbanite To His Love

© Guiterman Arthur

Commute with me, my Love, and be merry; How vain in the City to dwellWhen apple-trees blow in Dobbs' Ferry And lilacs adorn New Rochelle!White Plains is the Garden of Allah And Pelham's the Pearl of the Sea;There's bliss in the name of Valhalla -- Oh, fly to the Suburbs with me!

Then won't you commute on my family ticket?To Westchester County we'll flee

Our Suburb

© Guiterman Arthur

Our Garden Spot is always bright and pretty (Of course it's rather soggy when it rains),And only thirty minutes from the city (Of course you have to catch the proper trains)

Nocturne

© Guiterman Arthur

The three-toed tree-toadSings his sweet ode To the moon;The funny bunnyAnd his honey Trip in tune

Kindness to Insects

I saw a Melancholy WaspUpon a Purple Clover Knosp,Who wept, "The Poets do me Wrong,Excluding me from Noble Song --Though Pure am I and Wholly Crimeless --Because, they say, my Name is Rhymeless!Oh, had I but been born a Bee,With Heaps of Words to Rhyme with me,I should not want for PanegyricsIn Sonnets, Epics, Odes and Lyrics!Will no one free me from the CurseThat bars my Race from Lofty Verse?""My Friend, that Little Thing I'll care forAt once," said I -- and that is whereforeSo tenderly I set that WaspUpon a Purple Clover Knosp

The Great Tyrannosaurus

The Great Tyrannosaurus Lived centuries ago;Through marshes wet and porous He rambled to and fro.

Going to Dover

"Leg over leg As the dog went to Dover;When he came to a stile, Jump he went over."

Emily Brontë

What sacramental hurt that bringsThe terror of the truth of thingsHad changed thee? Secret be it yet

Poetical Epistle to Mrs. Green

Hoping no offence, my dear Madam Green,You're surely the strangest gentlewoman that ever was seen;Didn't you say you'd come and see my drawings, and eat some of my plumb cake,Here I've kept it above a week, and all for your sake,And now it's as hard as a stone, and not worth a pin,To waste so fine a cake is I'm sure both a shame and a sin