Car poems
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Late Night with Fog and Horses
© Raymond Carver
They were in the living room. Saying their
goodbyes. Loss ringing in their ears.
The Prisoners Of Naples
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I HAVE been thinking of the victims bound
In Naples, dying for the lack of air
And sunshine, in their close, damp cells of pain,
Where hope is not, and innocence in vain
Thick-headed Thoughts: Part 1
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
I've something of the bull-dog in my breed,
The spaniel is developed somewhat less;
The House Of The Commonwealth
© Roderic Quinn
We sent a word across the seas that said,
"The house is finished and the doors are wide,
Come, enter in.
A stately house it is, with tables spread,
Where men in liberty and love abide
With hearts akin.
Sir Eustace Grey
© George Crabbe
And shall I then the fact deny?
I was--thou know'st--I was begone,
Like him who fill'd the eastern throne,
To whom the Watcher cried aloud;
That royal wretch of Babylon,
Who was so guilty and so proud.
The Voyage Of St. Brendan A.D. 545 - The Buried City
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Beside that giant stream that foams and swells
Betwixt Hy-Conaill and Moyarta's shore,
And guards the isle where good Senanus dwells,
A gentle maiden dwelt in days of yore.
I'll Not Confer With Sorrow
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
I'll not confer with Sorrow
Till to-morrow;
But Joy shall have her way
This very day.
The Black Rock
© John Gould Fletcher
Off the long headland, threshed about by round-backed breakers,
There is a black rock, standing high at the full tide;
Off the headland there is emptiness,
And the moaning of the ocean,
And the black rock standing alone.
The Battle of the Summer Islands : Canto 1
© Edmund Waller
Aid me, Bellona, while the dreadful fight
Betwixt a nation and two whales I write.
Seas stained with gore I sing, adventurous toil,
And how these monsters did disarm an isle.
Music
© Stephen Vincent Benet
My friend went to the piano; spun the stool
A little higher; left his pipe to cool;
On The Site Of A Mulberry-Tree; Planted by Wm. Shakspeare; felled by the Rev. F. Gastrell
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
THIS tree, here fall'n, no common birth or death
Shared with its kind. The world's enfranchised son,
The Detective
© Sylvia Plath
What was she doing when it blew in
Over the seven hills, the red furrow, the blue mountain?
Was she arranging cups? It is important.
Was she at the window, listening?
In that valley the train shrieks echo like souls on hooks.
LInvention
© André Marie de Chénier
O fils du Mincius, je te salue, ô toi
Par qui le dieu des arts fut roi du peuple-roi!
A Third Letter From B. Sawin, Esq.
© James Russell Lowell
I spose you recollect thet I explained my gennle views
In the last billet thet I writ, 'way down frum Veery Cruze,
Karen
© Celia Thaxter
At her low quaint wheel she sits to spin,
Deftly drawing the long, light rolls
Of carded wool through her finders thin,
By the fireside at the Isles of Shoals.
The Good Little Boy
© Edgar Albert Guest
Once there was a boy who never
Tore his clothes, or hardly ever,
Song Of The Broad-Axe
© Walt Whitman
Strong shapes, and attributes of strong shapes-masculine trades,
sights and sounds;
Long varied train of an emblem, dabs of music;
Fingers of the organist skipping staccato over the keys of the great
organ.
OShea
© Alice Guerin Crist
OShea was a big railway ganger, clean-hearted, and clean-limbed and shy,
With a glint of grey hair at his temples, and smile in his Irish blue eye;
Hed but one speech for every occasion, as you told him the news of the day,
And I know I will shock pious people-but poor Tim meant no harm when hes say.
Aw! glong, go-to-hell, go-to-hell now! In a mildly expostulant way.
