Car poems
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Fifty Faggots
© Edward Thomas
There they stand, on their ends, the fifty fag gots
That once were underwood of hazel and ash
Humanities Lecture
© William Stafford
Aristotle was a little man with
eyes like a lizard, and he found a streak
down the midst of things, a smooth place for his feet
much more important than the carved handles
on the coffins of the great.
Falling
© James Dickey
Of a virgin sheds the long windsocks of her stockings absurd
Brassiere then feels the girdle required by regulations squirming
Off her: no longer monobuttocked she feels the girdle flutter shake
In her hand and float upward her clothes rising off her ascending
Into cloud and fights away from her head the last sharp dangerous shoe
Like a dumb bird and now will drop in soon now will drop
It Is Spring Again
© Faiz Ahmed Faiz
It is spring, And the ledger is opened again.
From the abyss where they were frozen,
Young September
© Madison Julius Cawein
With a look and a laugh where the stream was flowing,
September led me along the land;
Where the golden-rod and lobelia, glowing,
Seemed burning torches within her hand.
And faint as the thistle's or milk-weed's feather
I glimpsed her form through the sparkling weather.
A Paraphrase, By Dr. I.W.
© Eugene Field
Why, Mistress Chloe, do you bother
With prattlings and with vain ado
Your worthy and industrious mother,
Eschewing them that come to woo?
Little Henry
© Julia A Moore
God has took their little treasure,
And his name I'll tell you now,
He has gone from earth forever,
Their little Charles Henry House.
Official Piety
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A PIOUS magistrate! sound his praise throughout
The wondering churches. Who shall henceforth doubt
That the long-wished millennium draweth nigh?
Sin in high places has become devout,
Music
© Boris Pasternak
The block of flats loomed towerlike.
Two sweating athletes, human telpher,
Were carrying up narrow stairs,
As though a bell onto a belfry,
On The Best, Last, And Only Remaning Comedy Of Mr. Fletcher
© Richard Lovelace
I'm un-ore-clowded, too! free from the mist!
The blind and late Heaven's-eyes great Occulist,
Obscured with the false fires of his sceme,
Not half those souls are lightned by this theme.
Reynard The Fox - Part 2
© John Masefield
Down in the village men awoke,
The chimneys breathed with a faint blue smoke;
The fox slept on, though tweaks and twitches,
Due to his dreams, ran down his flitches.
Philiper Flash
© James Whitcomb Riley
Young Philiper Flash was a promising lad,
His intentions were good--but oh, how sad
Idyll XXVIII. The Distaff
© Theocritus
Distaff, blithely whirling distaff, azure-eyed Athena's gift
To the sex the aim and object of whose lives is household thrift,
Seek with me the gorgeous city raised by Neilus, where a plain
Roof of pale-green rush o'er-arches Aphrodite's hallowed fane.
Our Guests
© William Henry Ogilvie
We welcome you,
Our guests from o'er the sea!
Together flew
Our flags till the world was free ;
And now they shall fly for us while we ride
In our rival friendship side by side.
Inscrutable Twist by Anne Pierson Wiese: American Life in Poetry #199 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureat
© Ted Kooser
I'd guess that most of us carry in our memories landscapes that, far behind us, hold significant meanings for us. For me, it's a Mississippi River scenic overlook south of Guttenberg, Iowa. And for you? Here's just such a memoryscape, in this brief poem by New Yorker Anne Pierson Wiese.
The Federal City
© Henry Lawson
OH! the folly, the waste, and the pity! Oh, the time that is flung behind!
They are seeking a site for a city, whose eyes shall be always blind,
Whose love for their ease grows greater, and whose care for their country less
They are seeking a site for a citya City of Selfishness.
Sea Holly
© Conrad Aiken
Begotten by the meeting of rock with rock,
The mating of rock and rock, rocks gnashing together;
Comfort The Women
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
A Prayer in Time of War
Whence comes the rain that ceaselessly doth fall,
