Poems begining by A
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A Pathological Case in Pliny
© John Logan
Hirto corde gigni quosdam homines proditur, neque alios fortioris esse industriae, sicut Aristomenen Messenium qui trecentos occidit Lacedaemonios ...
—Plinii, Naturalis Historia XI. Ixx.
The guards sleep they breathe uneven
Conversation with the
Trees the sharp cicadas
And knots of pine the flames
Have stirred to talk: their light
A Substance in a Cushion
© Gertrude Stein
The change of color is likely and a difference a very little difference is prepared. Sugar is not a vegetable.
Callous is something that hardening leaves behind what will be soft if there is a genuine interest in there being present as many girls as men. Does this change. It shows that dirt is clean when there is a volume.
A cushion has that cover. Supposing you do not like to change, supposing it is very clean that there is no change in appearance, supposing that there is regularity and a costume is that any the worse than an oyster and an exchange. Come to season that is there any extreme use in feather and cotton. Is there not much more joy in a table and more chairs and very likely roundness and a place to put them.
A circle of fine card board and a chance to see a tassel.
A Shropshire Lad XXVI: Along the field as we came by
© Alfred Edward Housman
Along the field as we came by
A year ago, my love and I,
A Bowl of Spaghetti
© Kimiko Hahn
“To find a connectome, or the mental makeup of a person,”
researchers experimented with the neurons of a worm
A Poem For Dada Day At The Place April 1, 1958
© Jack Spicer
IV
The bartender is not the United States
Or the intellectual
Or the bartender
He is every bastard that does not cry
When he reads this poem.
An Exercise in Love
© Diane di Prima
Many have brought the gifts
I use for his pleasure
silk, & green hills
& heron the color of dawn
“Any fool can get into an ocean . . .”
© Jack Spicer
Any fool can get into an ocean
But it takes a Goddess
A Note Left in Jimmy Leonard’s Shack
© James Wright
Near the dry river’s water-mark we found
Your brother Minnegan,
Flopped like a fish against the muddy ground.
Beany, the kid whose yellow hair turns green,
Told me to find you, even in the rain,
And tell you he was drowned.
A Song on the End of the World
© Czeslaw Milosz
Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet
Yet is not a prophet, for he’s much too busy,
Repeats while he binds his tomatoes:
There will be no other end of the world,
There will be no other end of the world.
At the Executed Murderer’s Grave
© James Wright
6
Staring politely, they will not mark my face
From any murderer’s, buried in this place.
Why should they? We are nothing but a man.
An Hymn Of Heavenly Beauty
© Edmund Spenser
Rapt with the rage of mine own ravish'd thought,
Through contemplation of those goodly sights,
A Glimpse
© Walt Whitman
A glimpse through an interstice caught,
Of a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room around the stove late of a winter night, and I unremarkd seated in a corner,
Of a youth who loves me and whom I love, silently approaching and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand,
A long while amid the noises of coming and going, of drinking and oath and smutty jest,
There we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word.
Autumn III
© Thomas Hood
The Autumn is old,
The sere leaves are flying;
He hath gather'd up gold,
And now he is dying;
An Elegy
© Benjamin Jonson
THOUGH beauty be the mark of praise,
And yours of whom I sing be such
As not the world can praise too much,
Yet 'tis your Virtue now I raise.
Ascent of Lu Mountain
© Mao Zedong
Perching as after flight, the mountain towers over the Yangtze;
I have overleapt four hundred twists to its green crest.
A Sequence of Sonnets on the Death of Robert Browning
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
The works of words whose life seems lightning wrought,
And moulded of unconquerable thought,
And quickened with imperishable flame,
Stand fast and shine and smile, assured that nought
May fade of all their myriad-moulded fame,
Nor England's memory clasp not Browning's name.
An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations
© Simon Armitage
Compiling this landmark anthology of poetry in English
about dogs and musical instruments is like swimming through bricks.
A Canadian Summer Evening
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
The rose-tints have faded from out of the West,
From the Mountains high peak, from the rivers broad breast.
