All Poems

/ page 2555 of 3210 /

Order by :

If the debate rages in the pages of the news today
then Im confused, Ive searched and found no evidence.
Perhaps the anger of some residents about a Catholic school
thats due to close because its roll has fallen lower

Precious to MeShe still shall be

© Emily Dickinson

Precious to MeShe still shall be
Though She forget the name I bear
The fashion of the Gown I wear
The very Color of My Hair

Seven suits

© Ivan Donn Carswell

Seven tailored suits, matching shoes and socks,
a brace of muted ties with subtle breast pocket
handkerchiefs descried, you wouldnt credit how
badly they governed you in days gone by.

Einst Sah Ich Viele

© Heinrich Heine

I saw a crowd of flowers in bloom,

On my way: too lazy of course

Sends the wrong message

© Ivan Donn Carswell

Whats in a song John (or is it Knuckles), whats
in a song about an unemployed, suicidal bum, caught
in the act of sheep theft which defines the Australian
psyche? Ill bet you dont know but whatever it is

To Roosevelt {2}

© Rubén Dario

It is with the voice of the Bible, or the verse of Walt Whitman,
that I should come to you, Hunter,
primitive and modern, simple and complicated,
with something of Washington and more of Nimrod.

Remember with affection

© Ivan Donn Carswell

Theyll always tell a story those
obscure mementos stacked on
dusty shelves, demure and silent like
the other gaudy tributes tacked

Flower-De-Luce: Hawthorne

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

How beautiful it was, that one bright day
In the long week of rain!
Though all its splendor could not chase away
The omnipresent pain.

Ready to step into life

© Ivan Donn Carswell

This morning, coffee in hand, standing at the kitchen
window thinking of things that need to be done
I contemplated the post with a lean at the front gate
which I should right one day and wondered why;

What Was Lost

© William Butler Yeats

I SING what was lost and dread what was won,
I walk in a battle fought over again,
My king a lost king, and lost soldiers my men;
Feet to the Rising and Setting may run,
They always beat on the same small stone.

Rangipo Desert

© Ivan Donn Carswell

Whangaehu waters, hot-spilled from the cauldron
of Crater Lake, swirling mud-green from the cup
between Tahurangi and Pyramid Peak,
sulphurous, sibilant among purer daughters

May I Not Weep With You

© James Whitcomb Riley

Let me come in where you sit weepingaye,
Let me, who have not any child to die,
Weep with you for the little one whose love
I have known nothing of.

Pumpkins in our time

© Ivan Donn Carswell

For months on end the pumpkins lay at peace,
their parent vines had all but browned and died
although a stubborn tendril here and there had
tried to grow again glyphosate soon ended

Storm Fear

© Robert Frost

When the wind works against us in the dark,

And pelts with snow

Puissant Morons

Clean your glory glasses, scrub the lenses clean
and see the puissant morons stare;
garbed in common guises far from unfamiliar,
guises fair as anyone you know or care,

Sonnet 53: "What is your substance, whereof are you made..."

What is your substance, whereof are you made,

That millions of strange shadows on you tend?

Possums came at night

You could see the signs which said that possums came at night
and fed upon this tree, they left their mark in fruit discards
and broken twigs and shredded leaves spread randomly
in careless piles beneath its ravaged canopy.

Alfs Tenth Bit

© Ezra Pound

WIND

Scarce and thin, scarce and thin

Political nonsense

I asked my fellow listeners what they thought
about his claims that malfeasance was soured
within this state by parliamentary representatives
but not, of course, those members seated where
he sat in opposition. His disposition was to blame
the government as if he wasnt part of it.