Poems begining by F
/ page 17 of 107 /Found Letter by Joshua Weiner: American Life in Poetry #123 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
There is a type of poem, the Found Poem, that records an author's discovery of the beauty that occasionally occurs in the everyday discourse of others. Such a poem might be words scrawled on a wadded scrap of paper, or buried in the classified ads, or on a billboard by the road. The poet makes it his or her poem by holding it up for us to look at. Here the Washington, D.C., poet Joshua Weiner directs us to the poetry in a letter written not by him but to him.
From The Italian Of Michael Angelo
© William Wordsworth
YES! hope may with my strong desire keep pace,
And I be undeluded, unbetrayed;
For if of our affections none finds grace
In sight of Heaven, then, wherefore hath God made
Fragment Of A Satire On Satire
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
If gibbets, axes, confiscations, chains,
And racks of subtle torture, if the pains
Of shame, of fiery Hells tempestuous wave,
Seen through the caverns of the shadowy grave,
Fair Summer Droops
© Thomas Nashe
Fair summer droops, droop men and beasts therefore,
So fair a summer look for nevermore:
All good things vanish less than in a day,
Peace, plenty, pleasure, suddenly decay.
Go not yet away, bright soul of the sad year,
The earth is hell when thou leav'st to appear.
Fragment
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Descriptive of the miseries of War; from a Poem
called "The Emigrants," printed in 1793.
TO a wild mountain, whose bare summit hides
Its broken eminence in clouds; whose steeps
Fragment XIII
© James Macpherson
His spear leaned against the mossy rock.
His shield lay by him on the grass.
Whilst he thought on the mighty Carbre
whom he slew in battle, the scout of
the ocean came, Moran the son of Fithil.
Fragment XIV
© James Macpherson
Whence the son of Mugruch, Duchommar
the most gloomy of men? Dark
are thy brows of terror. Red thy rolling
eyes. Does Garve appear on the
sea? What of the foe, Duchommar?
Flying Furze
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
AIRILY, fairily, over the meadows,
Over the broom-grasses waving and gay,
O! see how it shimmers,
How wavers and glimmers,
Flying, and flying away.
Fear
© Raymond Carver
Fear of seeing a police car pull into the drive.
Fear of falling asleep at night.
Flower-De-Luce: Divina Commedia
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I.
Oft have I seen at some cathedral door
Forefathers
© Edmund Blunden
Here they went with smock and crook,
Toiled in the sun, lolled in the shade,
Here they mudded out the brook
And here their hatchet cleared the glade:
Harvest-supper woke their wit,
Huntsmen's moon their wooings lit.
Found
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
THERE is a budding morrow in midnight:
So sang our Keats, our English nightingale.
Favorites of Pan
© Archibald Lampman
Once, long ago, before the gods
Had left this earth, by stream and forest glade,
Where the first plough upturned the clinging sods,
Or the lost shepherd strayed,
Fool-Youngens
© James Whitcomb Riley
Me an' Bert an' Minnie-Belle
Knows a joke, an' we won't tell!
No, we don't--'cause we don't know
_Why_ we got to laughin' so;
But we got to laughin' so,
"We ist kep' a-laughin'.
Forfeits
© Henry Cuyler Bunner
They sent him round the circle fair,
To bow before the prettiest there.
Im bound to say the choice he made
A creditable taste displayed;
AlthoughI cant say what it meant
The little maid looked ill-content.
Fragment: To The People Of England
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
PEOPLE of England, ye who toil and groan,
Who reap the harvests which are not your own,
Fatality
© Rubén Dario
The tree is happy because it is scarcely sentient;
the hard rock is happier still, it feels nothing:
there is no pain as great as being alive,
no burden heavier than that of conscious life.