Poems begining by B
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Babylon
© Robert Graves
The child alone a poet is:
Spring and Fairyland are his.
Truth and Reason show but dim,
And alls poetry with him.
Bound Noth Blues
© Langston Hughes
Goin down the road, Lawd,
Goin down the road.
Down the road, Lawd,
Way,way down the road.
Got to find somebody
To help me carry this load.
Between Games
© Vasko Popa
This one turns into an ear
He hears all that won't let itself be heard
But he grows bored
Yearns to turn again into himself
But without eyes he can't see how
Before The Game
© Vasko Popa
Shut one eye then the other
Peek into every corner of yourself
See that there are no nails no thieves
See that there are no cuckoo's eggs
Breaking The News
© Joseph Furphy
Johnny's drowned here's his clo'es
Where he's got to, we dunno;
Sure enough, he never rose;
So we thought we'd let you know.
Gosh! the fright has knocked us flat
Here's his shirt, an' here's his hat.
But One Talent
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Ye who yourselves of larger worth esteem
Than common mortals, listen to my dream,
and learn the lesson of life's cozening cheat,
The coinage of conceit.
Brother Jonathan's Lament
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
SHE has gone,-- she has left us in passion and pride,--
Our stormy-browed sister, so long at our side!
She has torn her own star from our firmament's glow,
And turned on her brother the face of a foe!
Bill and Joe
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
COME, dear old comrade, you and I
Will steal an hour from days gone by,
The shining days when life was new,
And all was bright with morning dew,
The lusty days of long ago,
When you were Bill and I was Joe.
Ballade Of The Tweed
© Andrew Lang
Deil take the dirty, trading loon
Wad gar the water ca' his wheel,
And drift his dyes and poisons doun
By fair Tweed-side at Ashiesteel!
Bluenote Time
© Adrian Green
in the soft jazz and midnight hour
your eyes are dancing close to mine
a sway of hips, a touch of lips
Bayonet
© Anne Sexton
What can I do with this bayonet?
Make a rose bush of it?
Poke it into the moon?
Shave my legs with its silver?
Spear a goldfish?
No. No.
Bat
© Anne Sexton
His awful skin
stretched out by some tradesman
is like my skin, here between my fingers,
a kind of webbing, a kind of frog.
Birds And Bards
© Franklin Pierce Adams
When Milton sang "O nightingale
That on yon gloomy spray,"
The sonneteer whom we revere
Lauded that birdie's lay.
Brueghel's Winter
© Walter de la Mare
But flame, nor ice, nor piercing rock,
Nor silence, as of a frozen sea,
Nor that slant inward infinite line
Of signboard, bird, and hill, and tree,
Give more than subtle hint of him
Who squandered here life's mystery.
Barefoot
© Anne Sexton
Loving me with my shows off
means loving my long brown legs,
sweet dears, as good as spoons;
and my feet, those two children
Buying The Whore
© Anne Sexton
You stink like my Mama under your bra
and I vomit into your hand like a jackpot
its cold hard quarters.
Briar Rose (Sleeping Beauty)
© Anne Sexton
Consider
a girl who keeps slipping off,
arms limp as old carrots,
into the hypnotist's trance,
Bellerophon
© George Meredith
Maimed, beggared, grey; seeking an alms; with nod
Of palsy doing task of thanks for bread;
Upon the stature of a God,
He whom the Gods have struck bends low his head.
Baby Picture
© Anne Sexton
It's in the heart of the grape
where that smile lies.
It's in the good-bye-bow in the hair
where that smile lies.
Blizzard
© William Carlos Williams
Snow falls:
years of anger following
hours that float idly down
the blizzard
