All Poems
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Of the Death of Sir T. W. The Elder
© Henry Howard
Wyatt resteth here, that quick could never rest;Whose heavenly gifts increased by disdain,And virtue sank the deeper in his breast;Such profit he by envy could obtain.
Love that doth Reign and Live within my Thought
© Henry Howard
Love that doth reign and live within my thoughtAnd built his seat within my captive breast,Clad in the arms wherein with me he fought,Oft in my face he doth his banner rest
London, hast thou Accused me
© Henry Howard
London, hast thou accused meOf breach of laws, the root of strife?Within whose breast did boil to see,So fervent hot, thy dissolute life,That even the hate of sins that growWithin thy wicked walls so rife,For to break forth did convert soThat terror could it not repress
Certain Books of Virgil's {AE}neis: Book II
© Henry Howard
BOOK IIWhen Prince Æneas from the royal seatThus gan to speak: O Queen, it is thy willI should renew a woe cannot be told,How that the Greeks did spoil and overthrowThe Phrygian wealth and wailful realm of Troy;Those ruthful things that I myself beheld,And whereof no small part fell to my share;Which to express, who could refrain from tears?What Myrmidon? or yet what Dolopes?What stern Ulysses' waged soldier?And lo! moist night now from the welkin falls,And stars declining counsel us to rest
The Witness
© Sullivan Rosemary
I have to admit it's a strange feelingto blow your wife away,he said and kind of smiled
The way, in a rainstorm, the sky (5)
© Sullivan Rosemary
The way, in a rainstorm, the skydescends in sudden violence,flooding the sluices of the overhead passesand tumbling to the road in fallsof water, and we wait at the side of the roadfilling the space with the hot breathof our panic, until the violencehas passed and we can proceedin the dark, the tears of nightblinding our windshieldonly a little less
The universe is as close as the veins in your neck
© Sullivan Rosemary
The angle seemed askew,an enigmatic grin hangingat the end of the highway,a last orange gasp.
She walked into our lives like she invented us (4)
© Sullivan Rosemary
She walked into our lives like she invented us
Passe-Port
© Sullivan Rosemary
We pass the turnstileinto your country.The computer spits you out --You're no longer on its mind.
Farmer's Daughter
© Sullivan Rosemary
I spent the longest timetrying to find you,the vague woman in a houseroaring with a man's need.
A Child's Alone
© Sullivan Rosemary
In the photographs the reporters tookthe others have closed their eyes;only hers are open, stare into blankness
A Supplement of an Imperfect Copy of Verses of Mr. William Shakespear's, by the Author
© Sir John Suckling
One of her hands one of her cheeks lay under, Cosening the pillow of a lawful kiss,Which therefore swell'd, and seem'd to part asunder, As angry to be robb'd of such a bliss! The one look'd pale and for revenge did long, While t'other blush'd, 'cause it had done the wrong
Spleen
© Sturm Frank Pearce
I'm like some king in whose corrupted veinsFlows agèd blood; who rules a land of rains;Who, young in years, is old in all distress;Who flees good counsel to find wearinessAmong his dogs and playthings, who is stirredNeither by hunting-hound nor hunting-bird;Whose weary face emotion moves no moreE'en when his people die before his door
Correspondences
© Sturm Frank Pearce
In Nature's temple living pillars rise,And words are murmured none have understood,And man must wander through a tangled woodOf symbols watching him with friendly eyes.
Contemplation
© Sturm Frank Pearce
Thou, O my Grief, be wise and tranquil still,The eve is thine which even now drops down,To carry peace or care to human will,And in a misty veil enfolds the town.
Woodbine Willie
© Studdert Kennedy Geoffrey Anketell
They gave me this name like their nature, Compacted of laughter and tears,A sweet that was born of the bitter, A joke that was torn from the years
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
War
© Studdert Kennedy Geoffrey Anketell
There's a soul in the Eternal,Standing stiff before the King
