Poems begining by M
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Menaphon: Doron's Eclogue
© Robert Greene
DORON
Sit down, Carmela, here are cobs for kings,
Sloes black as jet, or like my Christmas shoes,
Sweet cider, which my leathern bottle brings:
Sit down, Carmela, let me kiss thy toes.
Mandorla
© Paul Celan
In the Almond what dwells in the Almond?
Nothing.
Nothing dwells in the Almond.
There it dwells and dwells.
"Manus Animam Pinxit"
© Francis Thompson
Lady who hold'st on me dominion!
Within your spirit's arms I stay me fast
Mr. Mine
© Anne Sexton
Notice how he has numbered the blue veins
in my breast. Moreover there are ten freckles.
Now he goes left. Now he goes right.
He is buiding a city, a city of flesh.
Mad Girl's Love Song
© Sylvia Plath
"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
More Than Myself
© Anne Sexton
Not that it was beautiful,
but that, in the end, there was
a certain sense of order there;
something worth learning
Music Swims Back To Me
© Anne Sexton
Wait Mister. Which way is home?
They turned the light out
and the dark is moving in the corner.
There are no sign posts in this room,
My Friend, My Friend
© Anne Sexton
Who will forgive me for the things I do?
With no special legend of God to refer to,
With my calm white pedigree, my yankee kin,
I think it would be better to be a Jew.
Muier
© William Carlos Williams
Oh, black Persian cat!
Was not your life
already cursed with offspring?
We took you for rest to that old
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.
Margaritae Sorori
© William Ernest Henley
A late lark twitters from the quiet skies:
And from the west,
May, 1917
© John Jay Chapman
THE earth is damp: in everything
I taste the bitter breath of pallid spring.
Morning
© Mary Darby Robinson
O'ER fallow plains and fertile meads,
AURORA lifts the torch of day;
The shad'wy brow of Night recedes,
Cold dew-drops fall from every spray;
Monody to the Memory of Chatterton
© Mary Darby Robinson
Chill penury repress'd his noble rage,
And froze the genial current of his soul.
GRAY.
Mistress Gurton's Cat
© Mary Darby Robinson
Thus, often, we with anguish sore
The dead , in clam'rous grief deplore;
Who, were they once alive again
Would meet the sting of cold disdain!
For FRIENDS, whom trifling faults can sever,
Are valued most , WHEN LOST FOR EVER!
Male Fashions for 1799
© Mary Darby Robinson
Crops like hedgehogs, high-crown'd hats,
Whispers like Jew MOSES ;
Padded collars, thick cravats,
And cheeks as red as roses.
Maid Of Athens, Ere We Part
© George Gordon Byron
Maid of Athens, ere we part,
Give, oh give me back my heart!
Or, since that has left my breast,
Keep it now, and take the rest!
Hear my vow before I go,
Zoë mou, sas agapo!
