Food poems
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Her Eyes Are Wild
© William Wordsworth
I
HER eyes are wild, her head is bare,
The sun has burnt her coal-black hair;
Her eyebrows have a rusty stain,
Chomei At Toyama
© Basil Bunting
Swirl sleeping in the waterfall!
On motionless pools scum appearing
disappearing!
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto IV.
© George Gordon Byron
I.
I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs;
War And Peace
© Franklin Pierce Adams
"This war is a terrible thing," he said,
"With its countless numbers of needless dead;
A futile warfare it seems to me,
Fought for no principle I can see.
Alas, that thousands of hearts should bleed
For naught but a tyrant's boundless greed!"
Song To The Men Of England
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
Men of England, wherefore plough
For the lords who lay ye low?
Wherefore weave with toil and care
The rich robes your tyrants wear?
Sonnet 29: Like Some Weak Lords
© Sir Philip Sidney
Like some weak lords, neighbor'd by mighty kings,
To keep themselves and their chief cities free,
Do easily yield, that all their coasts may be
Ready to store their camps of needful things:
The Thank-Offering
© George MacDonald
My Lily snatches not my gift;
Glad is she to be fed,
But to her mouth she will not lift
The piece of broken bread,
Till on my lips, unerring, swift,
The morsel she has laid.
Purgatorio (English)
© Dante Alighieri
To run o'er better waters hoists its sail
The little vessel of my genius now,
That leaves behind itself a sea so cruel;
The Minds Games
© William Carlos Williams
If a man can say of his life or
any moment of his life, There is
Point Joe
© Robinson Jeffers
Point Joe has teeth and has torn ships; it has fierce and solitary
beauty;
Walk there all day you shall see nothing that will not make part
of a poem.
The Swallow
© William Cowper
I am fond of the swallow--I learn from her flight,
Had I skill to improve it, a lesson of love:
How seldom on earth do we see her alight!
She dwells in the skies, she is ever above.
James Whitcomb Riley
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
(From a Westerner's Point of View.)
No matter what you call it,
The Emperor's Dream
© Zbigniew Herbert
A crevice! shouts the Emperor in his sleep, and the canopy of ostrich plumes trembles. The soldiers who pace the corridors with unsheathed swords believe the Emperor dreams about a siege. Just now he saw a fissure in the wall and wants them to break into the fortress.
In fact the Emperor is now a wood-louse who scurries across the floor, seeking remnants of food. Suddenly he sees overhead an immense foot about to crush him. The Emperor hunts for a crevice in which to squeeze. The floor is smooth and slippery.
Yes. Nothing is more ordinary than the dreams of Emperors.
Georgic 2
© Publius Vergilius Maro
Thus far the tilth of fields and stars of heaven;
Now will I sing thee, Bacchus, and, with thee,
Sampson's Lion
© John Newton
The lion that on Sampson roared,
And thirsted for his blood;
With honey afterwards was stored,
And furnished him with food.
The Song Of Hiawatha II: The Four Winds
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Honor be to Mudjekeewis!"
Cried the warriors, cried the old men,
Bread And Gravy
© Edgar Albert Guest
There's a heap o' satisfaction in a chunk o' pumpkin pie,
An' I'm always glad I'm livin' when the cake is passin' by;
Sunday
© George MacDonald
A dim, vague shrinking haunts my soul,
My spirit bodeth ill-
As some far-off restraining bank
Had burst, and waters, many a rank,
Were marching on my hill;
