All Poems
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The Dead Woman
© Pablo Neruda
If suddenly you do not exist,
if suddenly you no longer live,
I shall live on.
April Aubade
© Sylvia Plath
Worship this world of watercolor mood
in glass pagodas hung with veils of green
where diamonds jangle hymns within the blood
and sap ascends the steeple of the vein.
In Memory of John Lothrop Motley
© William Cullen Bryant
SLEEP, Motley, with the great of ancient days,
Who wrote for all the years that yet shall be!
Dream Song 265: I don't know one damned butterfly from another
© John Berryman
I don't know one damned butterfly from another
my ignorance of the stars is formidable,
also of dogs & ferns
except that around my house one destroys the other
When I reckon up my real ignorance, pal,
I mumble "many returns"-
Earlier Poems : An April Day
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When the warm sun, that brings
Seed-time and harvest, has returned again,
'T is sweet to visit the still wood, where springs
The first flower of the plain.
The Ah Goo Tongue
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
The queerest languages known to man,
Sanscrit, Hebrew, Hindoostan,
Are all translated and made as free
And comprehensive as A B C.
The Transfiguration
© Edwin Muir
So from the ground we felt that virtue branch
Through all our veins till we were whole, our wrists
A Fourth Of July Wish
© Edgar Albert Guest
This is the day when we are great,
And sally forth to celebrate;
When night comes on, God grant that we
Have ears to hear and eyes to see.
be-KHudee le ga'ee kahaaN ham ko
© Meer Taqi Meer
jisko tum aasmaan kahate ho
so diloN kaa Gubaar hai apnaa
The Morning Half-Life Blues
© Marge Piercy
Girls buck the wind in the grooves toward work
in fuzzy coats promised to be warm as fur.
The shop windows snicker
flashing them hurrying over dresses they cannot afford:
you are not pretty enough, not pretty enough.
Winter Promises
© Marge Piercy
Tomatoes rosy as perfect baby's buttocks,
eggplants glossy as waxed fenders,
purple neon flawless glistening
peppers, pole beans fecund and fast
Always Unsuitable
© Marge Piercy
She wore little teeth of pearls around her neck.
They were grinning politely and evenly at me.
Unsuitable they smirked. It is true
Belly Good
© Marge Piercy
A heap of wheat, says the Song of Songs
but I've never seen wheat in a pile.
Apples, potatoes, cabbages, carrots
make lumpy stacks, but you are sleek
The Seven Of Pentacles
© Marge Piercy
Weave real connections, create real nodes, build real houses.
Live a life you can endure: Make love that is loving.
Keep tangling and interweaving and taking more in,
a thicket and bramble wilderness to the outside but to us
interconnected with rabbit runs and burrows and lairs.
For the Young Who Want To
© Marge Piercy
Talent is what they say
you have after the novel
is published and favorably
reviewed. Beforehand what
you have is a tedious
delusion, a hobby like knitting.
Traveling Dream
© Marge Piercy
I am packing to go to the airport
but somehow I am never packed.
I keep remembering more things
I keep forgetting.
