Poems begining by D
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Deidad
© Amado Ruiz de Nervo
¿Qué importan para ti las horas malas,
si cada hora en tus nacientes alas
pone una pluma bella más?
Ya verás al cóndor en plena altura,
ya verás concluida la escultura,
ya verás, alma, ya verás…
Deep In The Night
© Sara Teasdale
Deep in the night the cry of a swallow,
Under the stars he flew,
Keen as pain was his call to follow
Over the world to you.
December 30
© Jack Gilbert
At 1:03 in the morning a fart
smells like a marriage between
an avocado and a fish head.
Division Of An Estate
© George Moses Horton
It well bespeaks a man beheaded, quite
Divested of the laurel robe of life,
When every member struggles for its base,
The head; the power of order now recedes,
Deaf-Mute in the Pear Tree
© P. K. Page
Sun ruddying tree’s trunk, his trunk
his massive head thick-nobbed with burnished curls
tight-clenched in bud
Dat Ol' Mare O' Mine
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
Want to trade me, do you, mistah? Oh, well, now, I reckon not,
W'y you could n't buy my Sukey fu' a thousan' on de spot.
Discontinuous Poems
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
The frightful reality of things
Is my everyday discovery.
Each thing is what it is.
How can I explain to anyone how much
I rejoice over this, and find it enough?
Dirge
© Kenneth Fearing
And twelve o'clock arrived just once too often,
just the same he wore one gray tweed suit, bought one straw hat, drank one straight Scotch, walked one short step, took one long look, drew one deep breath,
just one too many,
Del Cascar
© William Stanley Braithwaite
Del Cascar, Del Cascar,
Stood upon a flaming star,
Stood, and let his feet hang down
Till in China the toes turned brown.
Dairy Ode
© James McIntyre
Our muse it doth refuse to sing
Of cheese made early in the spring,
When cows give milk from spring fodder
You cannot make a good cheddar.
Driving West in 1970
© Robert Bly
My dear children, do you remember the morning
When we climbed into the old Plymouth
And drove west straight toward the Pacific?
Darkling Summer, Ominous Dusk, Rumorous Rain
© Delmore Schwartz
1
A tattering of rain and then the reign
Dawn
© Louise Gluck
Years and years — that’s how much time passes.
All in a dream. But the duck —
no one knows what happened to that.
Dirty Jim
© Ann Taylor
THERE was one little Jim,
'Tis reported of him,
And must be to his lasting disgrace,
That he never was seen
With hands at all clean,
Nor yet ever clean was his face.
Dead Man’s Dump
© Isaac Rosenberg
The plunging limbers over the shattered track
Racketed with their rusty freight,
Stuck out like many crowns of thorns,
And the rusty stakes like sceptres old
To stay the flood of brutish men
Upon our brothers dear.
Detroit, Tomorrow
© Philip Levine
Newspaper says the boy killed by someone,
don’t say who. I know the mother, waking,
gets up as usual, washes her face
in cold water, and starts the coffee pot.
Der Blick
© Joseph Freiherr Von Eichendorff
Schaust Du mich aus Deinen Augen
lächelnd wie aus Himmeln an,
Dusk
© Jose Asuncion Silva
The lamp that stands beside the crib
Is not yet lighted to warm the gloom
Of the blueish, opaque light falling
Through the curtains of late afternoon.
