Car poems
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Paradise Regain'd: Book II (1671)
© Patrick Kavanagh
MEan while the new-baptiz'd, who yet remain'd
At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen
In Jerusalem
© Mahmoud Darwish
In Jerusalem, and I mean within the ancient walls,
I walk from one epoch to another without a memory
The House Of Cards
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
O the chatter, chatter, chatter,
Of the things that do not matter.
Little wordy things that clatter,
Restless feet that pitter patter,
All my pretty houses scatter,
All my noble castles scatter.
Nature
© Henry David Thoreau
In some withdrawn, unpublic mead
Let me sigh upon a reed,
Or in the woods, with leafy din,
Whisper the still evening in:
Some still work give me to do, -
Only - be it near to you!
Skin Canoes
© Carolyn Forche
Swallows carve lake wind,
trailers lined up, fish tins.
The fires of a thousand small camps
spilled on a hillside.
The New Year. Rosh-Hashanah, 5643
© Emma Lazarus
Not while the snow-shroud round dead earth is rolled,
And naked branches point to frozen skies,-
When orchards burn their lamps of fiery gold,
The grape glows like a jewel, and the corn
A sea of beauty and abundance lies,
Then the new year is born.
The Story of Phœbus and Daphne, Applied
© Edmund Waller
Thyrsis, a youth of the inspired train,
Fair Sacharissa lov’d, but lov’d in vain;
Cardinal Ideograms
© May Swenson
Three-cornered hut
on one stilt. Sometimes built
so the roof gapes.
Sacred And Profane Love
© Alfred Austin
Profane Love speaks
``I am the Goddess mortals call Profane,
Yet worship me as though I were divine;
Over their lives, unrecognised, I reign,
For all their thoughts are mine.
Half Border and Half Lab
© Heather McHugh
He saved our sorry
highfalutin souls — the heavens haven't saved a fly. Orion's
canniness who can condone? — that starring story, strapping blade! —
and Sirius is just a Fido joke — no laughter shakes the firmament.
But O the family dog, the Buddha-dog — son of a bitch!
he had a funny bone —
Yom Kippur 1984
© Adrienne Rich
I drew solitude over me, on the long shore.
—Robinson Jeffers, “Prelude”
For whoever does not afflict his soul through this day, shall be
cut off from his people.
Sonnet XIII: Behold What Hap
© Samuel Daniel
Behold what hap Pygmalion had to frame
And carve his proper grief upon a stone;
Reflections Of A Magistrand
© Robert Fuller Murray
on returning to St. Andrews
In the hard familiar horse-box I am sitting once again;
Creeping back to old St. Andrews comes the slow North British train,
Bearing bejants with their luggage (boxes full of heavy books,
Dead Butterfly
© Ellen Bass
For months my daughter carried
a dead monarch in a quart mason jar.
To and from school in her backpack,
to her only friend’s house. At the dinner table
it sat like a guest alongside the pot roast.
She took it to bed, propped by her pillow.
