Car poems

 / page 383 of 738 /
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Sonnet XXI

© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa

Thought was born blind, but Thought knows what is seeing.

Its careful touch, deciphering forms from shapes,

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Bird Parliament (translation of)

© Edward Fitzgerald

And first, with Heart so full as from his Eyes
Ran weeping, up rose Tajidar the Wise;
The mystic Mark upon whose Bosom show'd
That He alone of all the Birds THE ROAD
Had travell'd: and the Crown upon his Head
Had reach'd the Goal; and He stood forth and said:

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Hyacinth

© Louise Gluck

 2
There were no flowers in antiquity
but boys’ bodies, pale, perfectly imagined.
So the gods sank to human shape with longing.
In the field, in the willow grove,
Apollo sent the courtiers away.

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In Memoriam A. H. H.: 55

© Alfred Tennyson

I falter where I firmly trod,
  And falling with my weight of cares
  Upon the great world's altar-stairs
That slope thro' darkness up to God,

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Praeludium

© Benjamin Jonson

And must I sing?  What subject shall I choose!
Or whose great name in poets' heaven use,
For the more countenance to my active muse?

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The Summer Bower

© Henry Timrod

It is a place whither I’ve often gone


For peace, and found it, secret, hushed, and cool,

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Old Couple

© Charles Simic

They’re waiting to be murdered, 
Or evicted. Soon
They expect to have nothing to eat. 
In the meantime, they sit.

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Bound for Hell

© Marina Tsvetaeva

Hell, my ardent sisters, be assured,
Is where we’re bound; we’ll drink the pitch of hell—
We, who have sung the praises of the lord
With every fiber in us, every cell.

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The Dome of Sunday

© Ishmael Reed

As if one life emerging from one house
Would pause, a single image caught between
Two facing mirrors where vision multiplies
Beyond perspective,
A silent clatter in the high-speed eye
Spinning out photo-circulars of sight.

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Looking into History

© Lola Ridge

Five soldiers fixed by Mathew Brady’s eye 
Stand in a land subdued beyond belief. 
Belief might lend them life again. I try
Like orphaned Hamlet working up his grief

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The Bear Hunt

© Abraham Lincoln

A wild-bear chace, didst never see?
 Then hast thou lived in vain.
Thy richest bump of glorious glee,
 Lies desert in thy brain.

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A Carafe, that is a Blind Glass

© Gertrude Stein

A kind in glass and a cousin, a spectacle and nothing strange a single hurt color and an arrangement in a system to pointing

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Easter Even

© Christina Georgina Rossetti

There is nothing more that they can do
 For all their rage and boast;
Caiaphas with his blaspheming crew,
 Herod with his host,

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The Purgatory Of St. Patrick - Act I

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

KING.  Yes, from this rocky height,
Nigh to the sun, that with one starry light
Its rugged brow doth crown,
Headlong among the salt waves leaping down
Let him descend who so much pain perceives;
There let him raging die who raging lives.

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Eliza Harris

© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper

Like a fawn from the arrow, startled and wild,
A woman swept by us, bearing a child;
In her eye was the night of a settled despair,
And her brow was o’ershaded with anguish and care.

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Pictures From Theocritus

© William Lisle Bowles

  Goat-herd, how sweet above the lucid spring
  The high pines wave with breezy murmuring!
  So sweet thy song, whose music might succeed
  To the wild melodies of Pan's own reed.

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Interview by a Guggenheim Recipient

© Charles Bukowski

this South American up here on a Gugg

walked in with his whore

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The Way Of The World

© Edgar Albert Guest

IT'S ALL in the way that you look at the world,

It's all in the way that you do things,

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Ode on the Spring

© Thomas Gray

Lo! where the rosy-bosom'd Hours,


 Fair Venus' train appear,