Car poems

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Inner Man

© Charles Simic

It isn't the body
That's a stranger.
It's someone else.

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Wherein Obscurely

© Charles Simic

On the road with billowing poplars,
In a country flat and desolate
To the far-off gray horizon, wherein obscurely,
A man and a woman went on foot,

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Country Fair

© Charles Simic

If you didn't see the six-legged dog,
It doesn't matter.
We did, and he mostly lay in the corner.
As for the extra legs,

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A Mother Showing The Portrait Of Her Child

© Jean Ingelow

(F.M.L.)

Living child or pictured cherub,

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Clouds Gathering

© Charles Simic

It seemed the kind of life we wanted.
Wild strawberries and cream in the morning.
Sunlight in every room.
The two of us walking by the sea naked.

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Ode to Melancholy

© Thomas Hood

Come, let us set our careful breasts,
Like Philomel, against the thorn,
To aggravate the inward grief,
That makes her accents so forlorn;

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Death of the Stag

© James Thomson

The stag, too, singled from the herd, where long
He ranged, the branching monarch of the shade,
Before the tempest drives. At first, in speed
He, sprightly, puts his faith, and, roused by fear,

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White

© Charles Simic

What is that little black thing I see there
in the white?
Walt Whitman

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Windflowers

© Edith Nesbit

When I was little and good
I walked in the dappled wood
Where light white windflowers grew,
And hyacinths heavy and blue.

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Mummy's Curse

© Charles Simic

Befriending an eccentric young woman
The sole resident of a secluded Victorian mansion.
She takes long walks in the evening rain,
And so do I, with my hair full of dead leaves.

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"Vision of peace, Joy without stain"

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Vision of peace, Joy without stain,
That on my vext heart sweetly shinest,
Hast thou, too, known the touch of pain,
Cares and dark hours, when in vain
For thy lost quiet thou repinest?

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Read Your Fate

© Charles Simic

A world's disappearing.
Little street,
You were too narrow,
Too much in the shade already.

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Sestina

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

I saw my soul at rest upon a day
  As a bird sleeping in the nest of night,
Among soft leaves that give the starlight way
  To touch its wings but not its eyes with light;
So that it knew as one in visions may,
  And knew not as men waking, of delight.

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The Wooden Toy

© Charles Simic

The brightly-painted horse
Had a boy's face,
And four small wheels
Under his feet,

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Transfiguration

© Louisa May Alcott

Mysterious death! who in a single hour
Life's gold can so refine
And by thy art divine
Change mortal weakness to immortal power!

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Written in Northampton County Asylum

© John Clare

I am! yet what I am who cares, or knows?
  My friends forsake me like a memory lost.
I am the self-consumer of my woes;
  They rise and vanish, an oblivious host,
Shadows of life, whose very soul is lost.
And yet I am—I live—though I am toss’d

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Rest

© George MacDonald

I.

When round the earth the Father's hands

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From The Short Story Shadow-Children

© Louisa May Alcott

Little shadows, little shadows
Dancing on the chamber wall,
While I sit beside the hearthstone
Where the red flames rise and fall.

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Soliloquy

© Francis Ledwidge

When I was young I had a care
  Lest I should cheat me of my share
  Of that which makes it sweet to strive
  For life, and dying still survive,
  A name in sunshine written higher
  Than lark or poet dare aspire.

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South of my Days

© Judith Wright

South of my days' circle, part of my blood's country,
rises that tableland, high delicate outline
of bony slopes wincing under the winter,
low trees, blue-leaved and olive, outcropping granite-