Car poems

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You Asked How (formerly Even Now She Is Turning, Saying Everything I Always Wanted Her to Say)

© Nick Flynn

At the end there were straws
in her glove compartment, I'd split them open
to taste the familiar bitter residue, near the end
I ate all her Percodans, hungry to know

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Bag Of Mice

© Nick Flynn

I dreamt your suicide note
was scrawled in pencil on a brown paperbag,
& in the bag were six baby mice. The bag
opened into darkness,

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To J.W.

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

Set not thy foot on graves;
Hear what wine and roses say;
The mountain chase, the summer waves,
The crowded town, thy feet may well delay.

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Merops

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

What care I, so they stand the same,—
Things of the heavenly mind,—
How long the power to give them fame
Tarries yet behind?

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Monadnoc

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

I heard and I obeyed,
Assured that he who pressed the claim,
Well-known, but loving not a name,
Was not to be gainsaid.

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The Forerunners

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

Long I followed happy guides,—
I could never reach their sides.
Their step is forth, and, ere the day,
Breaks up their leaguer, and away.

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Threnody

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

The south-wind brings
Life, sunshine, and desire,
And on every mount and meadow
Breathes aromatic fire,

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Mithridates

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

I cannot spare water or wine,
Tobacco-leaf, or poppy, or rose;
From the earth-poles to the Line,
All between that works or grows,
Every thing is kin of mine.

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Saadi

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

Trees in groves,
Kine in droves,
In ocean sport the scaly herds,
Wedge-like cleave the air the birds,

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Suum Cuique

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

The rain has spoiled the farmer's day;
Shall sorrow put my books away?
Thereby are two days lost:
Nature shall mind her own affairs,
I will attend my proper cares,
In rain, or sun, or frost.

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The Bell

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

I love thy music, mellow bell,
I love thine iron chime,
To life or death, to heaven or hell,
Which calls the sons of Time.

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The Snow-Storm

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hill and woods, the river, and the heaven,

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Initial Love

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

He palmistry can understand,
Imbibing virtue by his hand
As if it were a living root;
The pulse of hands will make him mute;
With all his force he gathers balms
Into those wise thrilling palms.

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Fable

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

The mountain and the squirrel
Had a quarrel,
And the former called the latter, "little prig":
Bun replied,

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Account Of A Visit From St. Nicholas

© Ralph Waldo Emerson


1Later revised to "Donder and Blitzen" by Clement Clarke
Moore when he took credit for the poem in Poems (New York: Bartlett
and Welford, 1844).

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Ode To Beauty

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

Who gave thee, O Beauty!
The keys of this breast,
Too credulous lover
Of blest and unblest?

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Celestial Love

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

Higher far,
Upward, into the pure realm,
Over sun or star,
Over the flickering Dæmon film,

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Fate

© Ralph Waldo Emerson

That you are fair or wise is vain,
Or strong, or rich, or generous;
You must have also the untaught strain
That sheds beauty on the rose.

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Cat Scat

© Eamon Grennan

I am watching Cleo listening, our cat
listening to Mozart's Magic Flute. What
can she be hearing? What
can the air carry into her ears like that,

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One Morning

© Eamon Grennan

Looking for distinctive stones, I found the dead otter
rotting by the tideline, and carried all day the scent of this savage
valediction. That headlong high sound the oystercatcher makes
came echoing through the rocky cove