Poems begining by M
/ page 61 of 130 /My Erotic Double
© John Ashbery
I said it but I can hide it. But I choose not to.
Thank you. You are a very pleasant person.
Thank you. You are too.
Mothers
© Nikki Giovanni
the last time i was home
to see my mother we kissed
exchanged pleasantries
and unpleasantries pulled a warm
comforting silence around
us and read separate books
Mingus in Diaspora
© William Matthews
You could say, I suppose, that he ate his way out,
like the prisoner who starts a tunnel with a spoon,
or you could say he was one in whom nothing was lost,
who took it all in, or that he was big as a bus.
Music when Soft Voices Die (To --)
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Music, when soft voices die,
Vibrates in the memory
Odours, when sweet violets sicken,
Live within the sense they quicken.
Maud; A Monodrama (from Part I)
© Alfred Tennyson
Come into the garden, Maud,
For the black bat, night, has flown,
Come into the garden, Maud,
I am here at the gate alone;
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,
And the musk of the rose is blown.
Makeup on Empty Space
© Anne Waldman
I am putting makeup on empty space
all patinas convening on empty space
Mr. Attila
© Carl Sandburg
They made a myth of you, professor,
you of the gentle voice,
the books, the specs,
the furitive rabbit manners
in the mortar-board cap
and the medieval gown.
Montale’s Grave
© Jonathan Galassi
Now that the ticket to eternity
has your name on it, we are here to pay
the awkward tribute post-modernity
allows to those who think they think your way
Modern Love: XVI
© George Meredith
In our old shipwrecked days there was an hour,
When in the firelight steadily aglow,
Midsummer
© Louise Gluck
On nights like this we used to swim in the quarry,
the boys making up games requiring them to tear off ?the girls’ clothes
and the girls cooperating, because they had new bodies since last summer
and they wanted to exhibit them, the brave ones
leaping off ?the high rocks — bodies crowding the water.
Modern Love: XX
© George Meredith
I am not of those miserable males
Who sniff at vice and, daring not to snap,
Morningside Heights, July
© William Matthews
Haze. Three student violists boarding
a bus. A clatter of jackhammers.
Marshlands
© Emily Pauline Johnson
A thin wet sky, that yellows at the rim,
And meets with sun-lost lip the marsh’s brim.
Mother and Child
© Louise Gluck
This is why you were born: to silence me.
Cells of my mother and father, it is your turn
to be pivotal, to be the masterpiece.
Mechanism
© Archie Randolph Ammons
Honor a going thing, goldfinch, corporation, tree,
morality: any working order,