Life poems
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The Nude Swim
© Anne Sexton
On the southwest side of Capri
we found a little unknown grotto
where no people were and we
entered it completely
and let our bodies lose all
their loneliness.
Shall The Dead Praise Thee?
© George MacDonald
I cannot praise thee. By his instrument
The master sits, and moves nor foot nor hand;
For see the organ-pipes this, that way bent,
Leaning, o'erthrown, like wheat-stalks tempest-fanned!
Wanting to Die
© Anne Sexton
Since you ask, most days I cannot remember.
I walk in my clothing, unmarked by that voyage.
Then the almost unnameable lust returns.
45 Mercy Street
© Anne Sexton
In my dream,
drilling into the marrow
of my entire bone,
my real dream,
The Starry Night
© Anne Sexton
The town does not exist
except where one black-haired tree slips
up like a drowned woman into the hot sky.
The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars.
Oh starry starry night! This is how
I want to die.
Suicide Note
© Anne Sexton
Once upon a time
my hunger was for Jesus.
O my hunger! My hunger!
Before he grew old
he rode calmly into Jerusalem
in search of death.
Symphonic Studies (After Schumann)
© Emma Lazarus
Prelude
Blue storm-clouds in hot heavens of mid-July
The Ohio Falls
© Madison Julius Cawein
On, on they come, a beautiful, mad troop!
On, on, along the sandy banks that fling
Red pebble-freckled arms far out to stay
The riotous waves that ride and hurl along
In casque and shield and wind their wat'ry horns.
Muier
© William Carlos Williams
Oh, black Persian cat!
Was not your life
already cursed with offspring?
We took you for rest to that old
Ode To Dragon
© Hannah More
Dragon! since lyrics are the mode,
To thee I dedicate my Ode,
And reason good I plead:
Are those who cannot write, to blame
To draw their hopes of future fame,
From those who cannot read?
He Had So Much Work To Do
© Henry Lawson
Jim was trucking for a sawmill to make money for the home,
He was making, out of Mudgee, for the family to come,
And a load-chain snapped the switch-bar, and Black Anderson found Jim,
In the morning, in a creek-bed, with a log on top of him.
Esse Quam Videri
© John Hay
The knightly legend of thy shield betrays
The moral of thy life; a forecast wise,
The School At War
© Sir Henry Newbolt
All night before the brink of death
In fitful sleep the army lay,
For through the dream that stilled their breath
Too gauntly glared the coming day.
from "Asphodel, That Greeny Flower"
© William Carlos Williams
Of asphodel, that greeny flower,
like a buttercup
upon its branching stem-
save that it's green and wooden-
Psalm LXXXVIII. (88)
© John Milton
Lord God that dost me save and keep,
All day to thee I cry;
And all night long, before thee weep
Before thee prostrate lie.
Johnnie Courteau
© William Henry Drummond
Johnnie Courteau of de mountain
Johnnie Courteau of de hill
Dat was de boy can shoot de gun
Dat was de boy can jomp an' run
An'it's not very often you ketch heem still
Johnnie Courteau !
Music Is Time by Jill Bialosky : American Life in Poetry #263 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-20
© Ted Kooser
Music lessons, well, maybe 80 out of every 100 of us had them, once, and a few of us went on to play our chosen instruments all our lives. But the rest of us? I still own a set of red John Thompson piano books that haven’t been opened since about 1950. Here Jill Bialosky, who lives in New York City, captures the atmosphere of one of those lessons.
Sonnet XIV. On The Religious Memory Of Mrs. Catharine Thomson, My Christian Friend, Deceas'd 16 Dece
© John Milton
When Faith and Love which parted from thee never,
Had ripen'd thy just soul to dwell with God,
Meekly thou didst resign this earthy load
Of Death, call'd Life; which us from Life doth sever
