Poems begining by B
/ page 73 of 94 /
Blessed Are The Meek, For They Shall Inherit The Earth
© George MacDonald
A quiet heart, submissive, meek,
Father, do thou bestow,
Which more than granted, will not seek
To have, or give, or know.
bless 'em beggars,buskers,street vendors
© Sukasah Syahdan
bless 'em beggars,buskers,street vendors
breastfeeding mothers,fathers weather-
beaten,misplaced babies,outofschoolboys&girls
enduring with furious fidelity
everyday musk of japanese/german carfumery
Bathed and Washed
© Li Po
"Bathed in fragrance,
do not brush your hat;
Washed in perfume,
do not shake your coat:
Budapest Museum of Fine Arts:
© Sukasah Syahdan
this is to compliment those
who have made us petrified
and conjured up evidence of our sufferings
into what they call a tourist's attraction
Blank Joy
© Rainer Maria Rilke
She who did not come, wasn't she determined
nonetheless to organize and decorate my heart?
If we had to exist to become the one we love,
what would the heart have to create?
Bogland
© Seamus Justin Heaney
We have no prairies
To slice a big sun at evening--
Everywhere the eye concedes to
Encrouching horizon,
Blackberry-Picking
© Seamus Justin Heaney
Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
Blue
© May Swenson
Blue, but you are Rose, too,
and buttermilk, but with blood
dots showing through.
A little salty your white
Brown Eyes
© Mathilde Blind
Oh, brown Eyes with long black lashes,
Young brown Eyes,
Depths of night from which there flashes
Lightning as of summer skies,
Beautiful brown Eyes!
Bannerman of the Dandenong
© Alice Werner
I rode through the Bush in the burning noon,
Over the hills to my bride, -
The track was rough and the way was long,
And Bannerman of the Dandenong,
He rode along by my side.
Bluebeard: Sonnet VI
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
This door you might not open, and you did;
So enter now, and see for what slight thing
Burns
© Charles Harpur
MY OWN WILD BURNS! these rude-wrought rhymes of thine
In golden worth are like the unshapely coin
Of some new realm, yet pure as from the mine
And Art may well be spared with such alloy
As dims the bullion to improve the die!
Bretton Wood
© Ivan Donn Carswell
It happened by Bretton Wood (although that
wasnt its real name) and I recall a clear, grey dawn
and the tall sky fallow with torpid clouds;
we went on before to watch how they sundered out
Blame Katrina, or Larry
© Ivan Donn Carswell
You may have heard a dumb-ass claim that
Katrina, a hurricane, is to blame for current
stress upon our fiscal state, that petrol prices
ate their share but be aware of what the lack
of Cavendish bananas did when far too few
were found to satisfy the mad demand.
Bitter sweet
© Ivan Donn Carswell
The events
of September 11th
2001 remain bitter sweet;
as well as 2973 innocents
Beta Blogger Blues
© Ivan Donn Carswell
Have you switched to Beta yet?
Its an even bet that if you have
you quite regret your impulse
to accept the canny invitation.
Benefit of doubt
© Ivan Donn Carswell
Its a ruling from the field of pain (devoid of antique nave,
a judgement process aptly named benefit of doubt);
youve encountered it without veneer in waning times
where referees decline to rule on what is dreamed
where benefits per se are favoured the brave.
Being old in the game
© Ivan Donn Carswell
It was a half-life that seemed like a genuine world
wielding hard symbolism over those who ruled it; we
lived vaguely in teen-easy ambivalence whilst our peers
took their chances in ordered existence, wearing
Before the arthritis set in
© Ivan Donn Carswell
Its Wednesday, September 6th and a birthday,
again, these things arrive tediously on time
with wry regularity and sadly, no sense
of providence or charity.
