Cool poems
/ page 69 of 144 /
he and the hilltown
© Rg Gregory
when they look into his mind they find a hill town
somewhat surprised they go off to their learned books
outside (architecturally) hed seems a little wind-blown
not special a common sort of shackman by his looks
bird of fire - a caution
© Rg Gregory
the dream of the white bird flying
offers a freedom as tasty as nectar
how our lips purse to the goddesss pap
at the want of such swoops through the air
Lake Leman
© Harold Monro
It is the sacred hour: above the far
Low emerald hills that northward fold,
two spanish poems
© Rg Gregory
the sun in orihuela calms the dust
and people glide about the streets at ease
(problems left indoors to cool themselves)
time has grown fat and no one cares
to pin each minute to its proper place
the day is long tomorrow's not yet real
A Frog's Fate
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Contemptuous of his home beyond
The village and the village-pond,
A large-souled Frog who spurned each byway
Hopped along the imperial highway.
the feminine touch
© Rg Gregory
she came on a fine cool morning
the last of a course i was attending
as we crowded the pavement
waiting to be let in hello she said
malvern abbey
© Rg Gregory
the day was as grey as the abbey
the light that filtered through the glass
had no disturbing shine about it
no one inside was grasping to collect it
the ordinary again
© Rg Gregory
you are not interested in me
a receiver of food and a giver of shit
my brain knuckled under
A Make-Believe
© George MacDonald
No more! no more! I must stop this play,
Be a boy again, and kneel down and pray
To the God of sparrows and rabbits and men,
Who never lets any one out of his ken-
It must be so, though it be bewild'ring-
To save his dear beasts from his cruel children!
from imperfect Eden
© Rg Gregory
(1)
and off to scott's (the dockers' restaurant)
burly men packed in round solid tables
but what the helle (drowned in hellespont)
Abolition Of Slavery In The District Of Columbia, 1862
© John Greenleaf Whittier
When first I saw our banner wave
Above the nation's council-hall,
Eclogue the Third Abra
© William Taylor Collins
SCENE, a forest TIME, the Evening
In Georgia's land, where Tefflis' towers are seen,
The Grave
© Robert Blair
While some affect the sun, and some the shade,
Some flee the city, some the hermitage;
Their aims as various, as the roads they take
In journeying through life;the task be mine,
jerusalem and redcurrants
© Rg Gregory
my jerusalem
my newfoundland
juicy as redcurrants
with their sweet tang taste
daft icarus
© Rg Gregory
it began as a secret desire (an itch
in the marrow too vague to get through
to the bone) an idea that never could
make it as flesh - there wasn't a part of me
Oxford
© Lionel Pigot Johnson
OVER, the four long years! And now there rings
One voice of freedom and regret: Farewell!
Now old remembrance sorrows, and now sings:
But song from sorrow, now, I cannot tell.
The Drug-Shop, or, Endymion in Edmonstoun
© Stephen Vincent Benet
No herbage broke the barren flats of land,
No winds dared loiter within smiling trees,
Nor were there any brooks on either hand,
Only the dry, bright sand,
Naked and golden, lay before the seas.
Debout Sur Mon Orgueil Je Veux Montrer Au Soir
© Delmira Agustini
Debout sur mon orgueil je veux montrer au soir
L'envers de mon manteau endeuillé de tes charmes,
Son mouchoir infini, son mouchoir noir et noir,
Trait à trait, doucement, boira toutes mes larmes.
