All Poems
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We Are The Choice Of The Will
© William Ernest Henley
We tracked the winds of the world to the steps of their very
thrones;
The secret parts of the world were salted with our bones;
The Man In The Dead Machine
© Donald Hall
High on a slope in New Guinea
The Grumman Hellcat
lodges among bright vines
as thick as arms. In 1943,
Sonnet
© Charles Lamb
The Lord of Life shakes off his drowsihed,
And 'gins to sprinkle on the earth below
A Poet at Twenty
© Donald Hall
Images leap with him from branch to branch. His eyes
brighten, his head cocks, he pauses under a green bough,
alert.
And when I see him I want to hide him somewhere.
By the Sea
© Henry Kendall
The Caves of the sea have been troubled to-day
With the water which whitens, and widens, and fills;
Wolf Knife
© Donald Hall
In the mid August, in the second year
of my First Polar Expedition, the snow and ice of winter
almost upon us, Kantiuk and I
attempted to dash the sledge
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
Villanelle
© Donald Hall
Katie could put her feet behind her head
Or do a grand plié, position two,
Her suppleness magnificent in bed.
The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto I
© Richard Savage
The solar fires now faint and wat'ry burn,
Just where with ice Aquarius frets his urn!
If thaw'd, forth issue, from its mouth severe,
Raw clouds, that sadden all th' inverted year.
Mount Kearsarge Shines
© Donald Hall
Mount Kearsarge shines with ice; from hemlock branches
snow slides onto snow; no stream, creek, or river
budges but remains still. Tonight
we carry armloads of logs
The Legend of Cooee Gully
© Henry Lawson
The strong pine rafters creaked and strained,
Til we thought that the roof would go;
And we felt the box-bark walls bend in
And bulge like calico.
The Alligator Bride
© Donald Hall
Now the beard on my clock turns white.
My cat stares into dark corners
missing her gold umbrella.
She is in love
with the Alligator Bride.
White Apples
© Donald Hall
when my father had been dead a week
I woke with his voice in my ear
I sat up in bed
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.
Poems, Potatoes
© Sylvia Plath
The word, defining, muzzles; the drawn line
Ousts mistier peers and thrives, murderous,
In establishments which imagined lines
Name of Horses
© Donald Hall
All winter your brute shoulders strained against collars, padding
and steerhide over the ash hames, to haul
sledges of cordwood for drying through spring and summer,
for the Glenwood stove next winter, and for the simmering range.
Affirmation
© Donald Hall
To grow old is to lose everything.
Aging, everybody knows it.
Even when we are young,
we glimpse it sometimes, and nod our heads
On Church Communion - Part II.
© John Byrom
If once establish'd the essential part,
The inward Church, the Temple of the Heart,
Or house of God, the substance, and the sum
Of what is pray'd for in - thy kingdom come;
To make an outward correspondence true,
We must recur to Christ's example too.
