Car poems

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Daisy Bell (or "Bicycle Built for Two")

© Dacre Harry

There is a flower within my heartDaisy, DaisyPlanted one day by a glancing dartPlanted by Daisy Bell

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Slain

© Crosland Thomas William Hodgson

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori

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Marching On

© Crosland Thomas William Hodgson

I heard the young lads singing In the still morning air,Gaily the notes came ringing Across the lilac'd square;They sang like happy children Who know not doubt or care, "As WE GO MARCHING ON."

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VillainElle

© Crosbie Lynn

for Aileen Wuornos

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True Confessions Variations

© Crosbie Lynn

Ysidro calls me at night, meeya carra

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Submission

© Crosbie Lynn

for Mark and Debra: Malleus Maleficarum

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Skirt, My Pretty Name

© Crosbie Lynn

and the space between my name and myself grows larger until... .- Rosalie Sings Alone

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Love Letters

© Crosbie Lynn

I would give my husband drawings for grocery lists,with smiling faces on the eggs, and spider feetdangling everywhere

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Jesus the Low Rider

© Crosbie Lynn

take a little triptake a little trip with me

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Carrie Leigh's Hugh Hefner Haikus

© Crosbie Lynn

Hef brings me flowerstiger lilies, ochre veineddowncast, sleek black cups

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Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story

© Isabella Valancy Crawford

Part IA silver ring that he had beaten outFrom that same sacred coin--first well-priz'd wageFor boyish labour, kept thro' many years

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The Task: from Book V: The Winter Morning Walk

© William Cowper

'Tis morning; and the sun, with ruddy orbAscending, fires th' horizon: while the clouds,That crowd away before the driving wind,More ardent as the disk emerges more,Resemble most some city in a blaze,Seen through the leafless wood

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The Task: from Book IV: The Winter Evening

© William Cowper

Hark! 'tis the twanging horn! O'er yonder bridge,That with its wearisome but needful lengthBestrides the wintry flood, in which the moonSees her unwrinkled face reflected bright,He comes, the herald of a noisy world,With spatter'd boots, strapp'd waist, and frozen locks;News from all nations lumb'ring at his back

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Don't Take Your Troubles to Bed

© Cooke Edmund Vance

You may labor your fill, friend of mine, if you will; You may worry a bit, if you must;You may treat your affairs as a series of cares, You may live on a scrap and a crust;But when the day's done, put it out of your head;Don't take your troubles to bed

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Hills

© Conkling Hilda

The hills are going somewhere;They have been on the way a long time

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Lyrical Ballads (1798)

© William Wordsworth

LYRICAL BALLADS,WITHA FEW OTHER POEMS.

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Peter Bell

© Hartley Coleridge

A satire upon the Poet Laureate's celebrated production.