Poems begining by B
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"Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind"
© William Shakespeare
Blow, blow, thou winter wind,
Thou art not so unkind
Blackberrying
© Sylvia Plath
Nobody in the lane, and nothing, nothing but blackberries,
Blackberries on either side, though on the right mainly,
Briefly It Enters, Briefly Speaks
© Jane Kenyon
When the young girl who starves
sits down to a table
she will sit beside me. . . .
Bath
© Amy Lowell
The day is fresh-washed and fair, and there is a smell of tulips and narcissus in the air.
The sunshine pours in at the bath-room window and bores through the water in the bath-tub in lathes and planes of greenish-white. It cleaves the water into flaws like a jewel, and cracks it to bright light.
Little spots of sunshine lie on the surface of the water and dance, dance, and their reflections wobble deliciously over the ceiling; a stir of my finger sets them whirring, reeling. I move a foot and the planes of light in the water jar. I lie back and laugh, and let the green-white water, the sun-flawed beryl water, flow over me. The day is almost too bright to bear, the green water covers me from the too bright day. I will lie here awhile and play with the water and the sun spots. The sky is blue and high. A crow flaps by the window, and there is a whiff of tulips and narcissus in the air.
Butchers
© C. K. Williams
1
Thank goodness we were able to wipe the Neanderthals out, beastly things,
Boundary Issues
© John Ashbery
Here in life, they would understand.
How could it be otherwise? We had groped too,
unwise, till the margin began to give way,
at which point all was sullen, or lost, or both.
Bright Leaf
© Ellen Bryant Voigt
Like words put to a song, the bunched tobacco leaves
are strung along a stick, the women
Bereavement
© William Lisle Bowles
Whose was that gentle voice, that, whispering sweet,
Promised methought long days of bliss sincere!
Burning Island
© Gary Snyder
O Wave God who broke through me today
Sea Bream
massive pink and silver
cool swimming down with me watching
staying away from the spear
Beowulf (modern English translation)
© Pierre Reverdy
LO, praise of the prowess of people-kings
of spear-armed Danes, in days long sped,
Branch Library
© Edward Hirsch
I wish I could find that skinny, long-beaked boy
who perched in the branches of the old branch library.
Bridal Song
© George Chapman
O come, soft rest of cares! come, Night!
Come, naked Virtues only tire,
Before I got my eye put out – (336)
© Emily Dickinson
Before I got my eye put out –
I liked as well to see
As other creatures, that have eyes –
And know no other way –
Blues Chant Hoodoo Revival
© Yusef Komunyakaa
let’s pour the river’s rainbow
into our stone water jars
bad luck isn’t red flowers
crushed under jackboots
Be Still. The Hanging Gardens were a Dream
© Trumbull Stickney
Be still. The Hanging Gardens were a dream
That over Persian roses flew to kiss
Beowulf (Old English version)
© Pierre Reverdy
Hwæt. We Gardena in geardagum,
þeodcyninga, þrym gefrunon,
