Life poems
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I'm "wife" -- I've finished that
© Emily Dickinson
I'm "wife" -- I've finished that --
That other state --
I'm Czar -- I'm "Woman" now --
It's safer so --
I never told the buried gold
© Emily Dickinson
I never told the buried gold
Upon the hill -- that lies --
I saw the sun -- his plunder done
Crouch low to guard his prize.
My Life had stood -- a Loaded Gun --
© Emily Dickinson
My Life had stood -- a Loaded Gun --
In Corners -- till a Day
The Owner passed -- identified --
And carried Me away --
If you were coming in the Fall,
© Emily Dickinson
If you were coming in the Fall,
I'd brush the Summer by
With half a smile, and half a spurn,
As Housewives do, a Fly.
I cannot live with You --
© Emily Dickinson
I cannot live with You --
It would be Life --
And Life is over there --
Behind the Shelf
It was not Death, for I stood up,
© Emily Dickinson
It was not Death, for I stood up,
And all the Dead, lie down --
It was not Night, for all the Bells
Put out their Tongues, for Noon.
Through the Dark Sod -- as Education
© Emily Dickinson
Through the Dark Sod -- as Education --
The Lily passes sure --
Feels her white foot -- no trepidation --
Her faith -- no fear --
My life closed twice before its close --
© Emily Dickinson
My life closed twice before its close --
It yet remains to see
If Immortality unveil
A third event to me
If I can stop one Heart from breaking
© Emily Dickinson
If I can stop one Heart from breaking
I shall not live in vain
If I can ease one Life the Aching
Or cool one Pain
Awake ye muses nine
© Emily Dickinson
Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine,
Unwind the solemn twine, and tie my Valentine!Oh the Earth was made for lovers, for damsel, and hopeless swain,
For sighing, and gentle whispering, and unity made of twain.
All things do go a courting, in earth, or sea, or air,
The house where I was born (10)
© Yves Bonnefoy
And then life; and once again
A house where I was born. Around us
The granary above what once had been a church,
The gentle play of shadow from the dawn clouds,
The house where I was born (03)
© Yves Bonnefoy
I woke up, it was the house where I was born,
It was night, trees were crowding
On all sides around our door,
I was alone on the doorstep in the cold wind,
The house where I was born (09)
© Yves Bonnefoy
And then the day came
When I heard the extraordinary lines in Keats,
The evocation of Ruth when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn.
The Aged Pilot Man
© Mark Twain
On the Erie Canal, it was,
All on a summer's day,
I sailed forth with my parents
Far away to Albany.
Genius
© Mark Twain
Geniuses are people who dash of weird, wild,
incomprehensible poems with astonishing facility,
and get booming drunk and sleep in the gutter.
A Sweltering Day In Australia
© Mark Twain
The Bombola faints in the hot Bowral tree,
Where fierce Mullengudgery's smothering fires
Far from the breezes of Coolgardie
Burn ghastly and blue as the day expires;
The Widening Spell Of Leaves
© Larry Levis
--The Carpathian Frontier, October, 1968
--for my brotherOnce, in a foreign country, I was suddenly ill.
I was driving south toward a large city famous
For so little it had a replica, in concrete,
Letters
© Spike Milligan
I was thinking of letters,
We all have a lot in our life
A few good - a few sad
But mostly run of the mill-
InheritanceHis
© Audre Lorde
Does an image of return
wealthy and triumphant
warm your chilblained fingers
as you count coins in the Manhattan snow
or is it only Linda
who dreams of home?
