Love poems
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Laughter And Tears IX
© Khalil Gibran
As the Sun withdrew his rays from the garden, and the moon threw cushioned beams upon the flowers, I sat under the trees pondering upon the phenomena of the atmosphere, looking through the branches at the strewn stars which glittered like chips of silver upon a blue carpet; and I could hear from a distance the agitated murmur of the rivulet singing its way briskly into the valley.
When the birds took shelter among the boughs, and the flowers folded their petals, and tremendous silence descended, I heard a rustle of feet though the grass. I took heed and saw a young couple approaching my arbor. The say under a tree where I could see them without being seen.
The City's Love
© Claude McKay
For one brief golden moment rare like wine,
The gracious city swept across the line;
Heart And Mind
© Dame Edith Sitwell
Said the Skeleton lying upon the sands of Time-
'The great gold planet that is the mourning heat of the Sun
Is greater than all gold, more powerful
Than the tawny body of a Lion that fire consumes
Like all that grows or leaps...so is the heart
Bucolics
© Sylvia Plath
Mayday: two came to field in such wise :
`A daisied mead', each said to each,
So were they one; so sought they couch,
Across barbed stile, through flocked brown cows.
Ultima Thule: From My Arm-Chair
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Am I a king, that I should call my own
This splendid ebon throne?
Or by what reason, or what right divine,
Can I proclaim it mine?
Come On In, The Senility Is Fine
© Ogden Nash
People live forever in Jacksonville and St. Petersburg and Tampa,
But you don't have to live forever to become a grampa.
The entrance requirements for grampahood are comparatively mild,
You only have to live until your child has a child.
Children's Party
© Ogden Nash
May I join you in the doghouse, Rover?
I wish to retire till the party's over.
Since three o'clock I've done my best
To entertain each tiny guest. My conscience now I've left behind me,
Always Marry An April Girl
© Ogden Nash
Praise the spells and bless the charms,
I found April in my arms.
April golden, April cloudy,
Gracious, cruel, tender, rowdy;
A Word to Husbands
© Ogden Nash
To keep your marriage brimming
With love in the loving cup,
Whenever youre wrong, admit it;
Whenever youre right, shut up.
A Lady Who Thinks She Is Thirty
© Ogden Nash
Unwillingly Miranda wakes,
Feels the sun with terror,
One unwilling step she takes,
Shuddering to the mirror.
The Patriot
© Nissim Ezekiel
I am standing for peace and non-violence.
Why world is fighting fighting
Last Poem of my 45th Year
© Craig Erick Chaffin
I thought of how a whale's white ribs
could choke the sky's blue neck,
massive vertebrae half-buried in sand,
Leaf Sermon
© Craig Erick Chaffin
I have been spiritually poisoned
by the unclean, in ignorance
blessed their springs.
In consequence I withered
Drug Trial
© Craig Erick Chaffin
You saw rattlesnakes mate in the arroyo
tangled like hoses, braided
like black ropes for a day,
utterly vulnerable in the grip
of love or instinct.
Year's End
© Marilyn Hacker
Twice in my quickly disappearing forties
someone called while someone I loved and I were
making love to tell me another woman had died of cancer.
Scars on Paper
© Marilyn Hacker
An unwrapped icon, too potent to touch,
she freed my breasts from the camp Empire dress.
Now one of them's the shadow of a breast
with a lost object's half-life, with as much
Nearly A Valediction
© Marilyn Hacker
You happened to me. I was happened to
like an abandoned building by a bull-
dozer, like the van that missed my skull
happened a two-inch gash across my chin.
Iva's Pantoum
© Marilyn Hacker
We pace each other for a long time.
I packed my anger with the beef jerky.
You are the baby on the mountain. I am
in a cold stream where I led you.
Invocation
© Marilyn Hacker
This is for Elsa, also known as Liz,
an ample-bosomed gospel singer: five
discrete malignancies in one full breast.
This is for auburn Jacqueline, who is
Desesperanto
© Marilyn Hacker
After Joseph RothParce que c'était lui; parce que c'était moi.
Montaigne, De L'amitiëThe dream's forfeit was a night in jail
and now the slant light is crepuscular.
Papers or not, you are a foreigner
