Poems begining by M
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Move Eastward, Happy Earth
© Alfred Tennyson
Ah, bear me with thee, lightly borne,
Dip forward under starry light,
And move me to my marriage-morn,
And round again to happy night.
Melpomene
© Peter Huchel
The forest bitter, spiky,
no shore breeze, no foothills,
the grass grows matted, death will come
with horses' hooves, endlessly
Man and Woman.
© Arthur Henry Adams
[According to Maori mythology, the god Tiki created Man by taking a
piece of clay and moistening it with his own blood. Woman was the
offspring of a sunbeam and a sylvan echo.]
Mountain Drinking Song
© Li Po
To drown the ancient sorrows,
we drank a hundred jugs of wine
there in the beautiful night.
We couldn't go to bed with the moon so bright.
Marble Stairs Grievance
© Li Po
On Marble Stairs
still grows the white dew
That has all night
soaked her silk slippers,
Moon over Mountain Pass
© Li Po
A bright moon rising above Tian Shan Mountain,
Lost in a vast ocean of clouds.
The long wind, across thousands upon thousands of miles,
Blows past the Jade-gate Pass.
Madam And The Phone Bill
© Langston Hughes
You say I O.K.ed
LONG DISTANCE?
O.K.ed it when?
My goodness, Central
That was then!
Madam And Her Madam
© Langston Hughes
I worked for a woman,
She wasn't mean--
But she had a twelve-room
House to clean.
Mother to Son
© Langston Hughes
Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
Mingus At The Showplace
© William Matthews
I was miserable, of course, for I was seventeen
and so I swung into action and wrote a poemand it was miserable, for that was how I thought
poetry worked: you digested experience shatliterature. It was 1960 at The Showplace, long since
defunct, on West 4th st., and I sat at the bar,casting beer money from a reel of ones,
Misgivings
© William Matthews
"Perhaps you'll tire of me," muses
my love, although she's like a great city
to me, or a park that finds new
ways to wear each flounce of light
and investiture of weather.
Soil doesn't tire of rain, I think,
My Loss
© Augusta Davies Webster
IN the world was one green nook I knew,
Full of roses, roses red and white,
Reddest roses summer ever grew,
Whitest roses ever pearled with dew;
And their sweetness was beyond delight,
Was all love's delight.
Morning in the Burned House
© Margaret Atwood
In the burned house I am eating breakfast.
You understand: there is no house, there is no breakfast,
yet here I am.
More and More
© Margaret Atwood
More and more frequently the edges
of me dissolve and I become
a wish to assimilate the world, including
you, if possible through the skin
like a cool plant's tricks with oxygen
and live by a harmless green burning.
Mystery Of Mysteries
© Mathilde Blind
Is this the End? This handful of brown earth
For all releasing elements to take
And free for ever from the bonds of birth?
Or will true life from Life's disguises break,
Called to that vast confederacy of minds
Which casts all flesh as chaff to all the winds?
Maungatua
© Alexander Bathgate
The spirits' mountain, such the name
The early Maori gave:
Where's his forgotten grave?
We know not; but thou'rt still the same
Gloomy and dread Maungatua.
My Portion is Defeattoday
© Emily Dickinson
My Portion is Defeattoday
A paler luck than Victory
Less Paeansfewer Bells
The Drums don't follow Mewith tunes
Defeata somewhat slowermeans
More Arduous than Balls
