Car poems
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Victory
© Adrienne Rich
Suddenly instead of art we're eyeing
organisms traced and stained on cathedral transparencies
cruel blues embroidered purples succinct yellows
a beautiful tumor
Stepping Backward
© Adrienne Rich
Good-by to you whom I shall see tomorrow,
Next year and when I'm fifty; still good-by.
Snapshots of a Daughter-In-Law
© Adrienne Rich
You, once a belle in Shreveport,
with henna-colored hair, skin like a peachbud,
still have your dresses copied from that time,
and play a Chopin prelude
called by Cortot: "Delicious recollections
float like perfume through the memory."
Moving in Winter
© Adrienne Rich
Their life, collapsed like unplayed cards,
is carried piecemeal through the snow;
On the Welch Language
© Katherine Philips
If honor to an ancient name be due,
Or riches challenge it for one that's new,
The Four Seasons
© Obi Nwakanma
The forest hugs them
carves them into stones,
Etches them into the slow
eastern landscape: rivers, hills
the slow running water,
times broken inscapes…
The Earthly Paradise: Apology
© William Morris
Of Heaven or Hell I have no power to sing,
I cannot ease the burden of your fears,
Lucifer in Starlight
© George Meredith
On a starred night Prince Lucifer uprose.
Tired of his dark dominion swung the fiend
State's Attorney Fallas
© Edgar Lee Masters
I, the scourge-wielder, balance-wrecker,
Smiter with whips and swords;
Lambert Hutchins
© Edgar Lee Masters
I have two monuments besides this granite obelisk:
One, the house I built on the hill,
Carl Hamblin
© Edgar Lee Masters
The press of the Spoon River Clarion was wrecked,
And I was tarred and feathered,
Inheritance-His
© Audre Lorde
Does an image of return
wealthy and triumphant
warm your chilblained fingers
as you count coins in the Manhattan snow
or is it only Linda
who dreams of home?
What the Sexton Said
© Vachel Lindsay
Your dust will be upon the wind
Within some certain years,
Though you be sealed in lead to-day
Amid the country's tears.
F?sulan Idyl
© Walter Savage Landor
She drew back
The boon she tendered, and then, finding not
The ribbon at her waist to fix it in,
Dropt it, as loth to drop it, on the rest.
The Bear
© Galway Kinnell
2
I take a wolf's rib and whittle
it sharp at both ends
and coil it up
and freeze it in blubber and place it out
on the fairway of the bears.
from Flying Home
© Galway Kinnell
that love is hard,
that while many good things are easy, true love is not,
because love is first of all a power,
its own power,
which continually must make its way forward, from night
into day, from transcending union always forward into difficult day.
