Poems begining by B
/ page 34 of 94 /By Any Other Name
© James Whitcomb Riley
First the teacher called the roll,
Clos't to the beginnin',
Ballade Of Dead Republics
© Edgar Lee Masters
Prince! 'tis the year of your jubilee,
The great republic is in your thrall.
And who will restore her armory?--
The Dragon of Greed destroyed them all!
Ballad Of The Press-Gang At Shihao Village
© Du Fu
One evening I found lodging in a village where
A press-gang stole by night to seize my aging host,
Breitmann As An Uhlan. V. Breitmanns Last Party.
© Charles Godfrey Leland
VOT gollops at mitnight,
Mit h'roolah and yell,
Like der teufel's wild yager
Boorst loose out of hell?
Brasilia
© Sylvia Plath
Will they occur,
These people with torso of steel
Winged elbows and eyeholes
Between the Sunken Sun and the New Moon
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
BETWEEN the sunken sun and the new moon,
I stood in fields through which a rivulet ran
Boys Bathing
© Muriel Stuart
And colder than these waters are
The stream that takes your limbs at last:
Earth's vales and hills drift slowly past. . .
One shore far off, and one more far
Beginning Of End
© Francis Thompson
She was aweary of the hovering
Of Love's incessant tumultuous wing;
Bora Ring
© Judith Wright
The song is gone; the dance
is secret with the dancers in the earth,
the ritual useless, and the tribal story
lost in an alien tale.
Before Action
© Leon Gellert
We always had to do our work at night.
I wondered why we had to be so sly.
I wondered why we couldn't have our fight
Under the open sky.
Bowed With a Sense of Sin
© Augustus Montague Toplady
Bowed with a sense of sin, I faint
Beneath the complicated load;
Father, attend my deep complaint,
I am Thy creature, Thou my God.
Brooklyn Bridge
© Lola Ridge
Pythoness body - arching
Over the night like an ecstasy -
I feel your coils tightening…
And the world's lessening breath.
Book Of Contemplation - Suleika
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
THE mirror tells me, I am fair!
Thou sayest, to grow old my fate will be.
Breitmann In Turkey
© Charles Godfrey Leland
DERR BREITMANN hear im Turkenreich
Vas fighten high und low,
"Steh auf, oh Schwackenhammer mein!
It's dime for us to go.
Ballad Of The Tempest
© James Thomas Fields
WE were crowded in the cabin,
Not a soul would dare to sleep,--
It was midnight on the waters,
And a storm was on the deep.
Breitmann In Rome
© Charles Godfrey Leland
DERE'S lighds oopon de Appian,
Dey shine de road entlang;
Und from ein hundert tombs dere brumms
A wild Lateinisch song;
Back Then by Trish Carpo : American Life in Poetry #246 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Childhood is too precious a part of life to lose before we have to, but our popular culture all too often yanks our little people out of their innocence. Here is a poem by Trish Crapo, of Leyden, Massachusetts, that captures a moment of that innocence.
Back Then
Ballad
© John Clare
A faithless shepherd courted me,
He stole away my liberty.
When my poor heart was strange to men,
He came and smiled and stole it then.