Poems begining by A
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A private public space
© Richard Jones
to your party and they don’t come,
they’re too busy tending vaginal
flowers, hating football, walking their golden
and chocolate labs. X gave me a poem
An Ode to Himself
© Benjamin Jonson
Where dost thou careless lie,
Buried in ease and sloth?
Knowledge that sleeps doth die;
And this security,
It is the common moth
That eats on wits and arts, and oft destroys them both.
A Une Femme
© Paul Verlaine
To you these lines for the consoling grace
Of your great eyes wherein a soft dream shines,
For your pure soul, all-kind!-to you these lines
From the black deeps of mine unmatched distress.
Advice to Her Son on Marriage
© Mary Barber
from The Conclusion of a Letter to the Rev. Mr C
When you gain her Affection, take care to preserve it;
A. W. in commendations of this discourse
© Roger Cotton
Let worldly wisedome stande a part,
let policie giue place:
An Ode on the Popular Superstitions of the Highlands of Scotland, Considered as the Subject of Poetry
© William Taylor Collins
Home, thou return'st from Thames, whose Naiads long
Have seen thee ling'ring, with a fond delay,
A Supermarket in California
© Allen Ginsberg
What thoughts I have of you tonight Walt Whitman, for I walked down the sidestreets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.
In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!—and you, Garcia Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons?
I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys.
At Bay Ridge, Long Island
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Pleasant it is to lie amid the grass
Under these shady locusts, half the day,
A Momentary Longing To Hear Sad Advice from One Long Dead
© Kenneth Koch
Who was my teacher at Harvard. Did not wear overcoat
Saying to me as we walked across the Yard
Aspromonte
© Alfred Austin
So you think he is defeated, O ye comfortably seated,
And that Victory is meted in your loaded huckster's scales?
O ye fools! though justice tarry, yet by heaven broad and starry,
Right, howe'er it may miscarry, ere the end arrive, prevails.
A Second Train Song for Gary
© Jack Spicer
When the trains come into strange cities
The citizens come out to meet the strangers.
Acting
© Ronald Stuart Thomas
Alone now on the brittle platform
Of herself she is playing her last rôle.
It is perfect. Never in all her career
Was she so good. And yet the curtain
Has fallen. My charmer, come out from behind
It to take the applause. Look, I am clapping too.
Admonition
© Sylvia Plath
If you dissect a bird
To diagram the tongue
You'll cut the chord
Articulating song.
Anecdote of the Jar
© Edwin Muir
I placed a jar in Tennessee,
And round it was, upon a hill.
It made the slovenly wilderness
Surround that hill.
A Thrush in the Trenches
© Humbert Wolfe
Suddenly he sang across the trenches,
vivid in the fleeting hush
as a star-shell through the smashed black branches,
a more than English thrush.
