Mom poems

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Sonnets 04: Only Until This Cigarette Is Ended

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

Only until this cigarette is ended,
A little moment at the end of all,
While on the floor the quiet ashes fall,
And in the firelight to a lance extended,

Ode To Silence

© Edna St. Vincent Millay

Aye, but she?
Your other sister and my other soul
Grave Silence, lovelier
Than the three loveliest maidens, what of her?

Nyctivoe (extract)

© Dimitris Lyacos

NARRATOR
Accounting that He was able to raise them up
even from the dead

For Lew Welch In A Snowfall

© Gary Snyder

Snowfall in March:
I sit in the white glow reading a thesis
About you. Your poems, your life.

Love Is Believable

© Lisa Zaran

love is believable
in every moment of exhaustion
in every heartbroken home
in every dark spirit,
the meaning unfolds...

Dreams

© Lisa Zaran

It is later than late,
the simmered down darkness
of the jukebox hour.

I Hardly Remember

© Rafael Guillen

I hardly remember your voice, but the pain of you
floats in some remote current of my blood.
I carry you in my depths, trapped in the sludge
like one of those corpses the sea refuses to give up.

"Give me only a fragment of earth beyond the earth's limits,"--
So the godlike man said,--"and I will move it with ease."
Only give me permission to leave myself for one moment,
And without any delay I will engage to be yours.

To My Friends

© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller

Yes, my friends!--that happier times have been
Than the present, none can contravene;
That a race once lived of nobler worth;
And if ancient chronicles were dumb,

To A Moralist

© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller

Are the sports of our youth so displeasing?
Is love but the folly you say?
Benumbed with the winter, and freezing,
You scold at the revels of May.

The Walk

© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller

Hail to thee, mountain beloved, with thy glittering purple-dyed summit!
Hail to thee also, fair sun, looking so lovingly on!
Thee, too, I hail, thou smiling plain, and ye murmuring lindens,
Ay, and the chorus so glad, cradled on yonder high boughs;

The Maid Of Orleans

© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller

Humanity's bright image to impair.
Scorn laid thee prostrate in the deepest dust;
Wit wages ceaseless war on all that's fair,--
In angel and in God it puts no trust;
The bosom's treasures it would make its prey,--
Besieges fancy,--dims e'en faith's pure ray.

The Infanticide

© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller

Francis, O Francis! league on league shall chase thee
The shadows hurrying grimly on thy flight--
Still with their icy arms they shall embrace thee,
And mutter thunder in thy dream's delight!

The Greatness Of The World

Through the world which the Spirit creative and kind
First formed out of chaos, I fly like the wind,
Until on the strand
Of its billows I land,
My anchor cast forth where the breeze blows no more,
And Creation's last boundary stands on the shore.

The Glove - A Tale

Before his lion-court,
Impatient for the sport,
King Francis sat one day;
The peers of his realm sat around,
And in balcony high from the ground
Sat the ladies in beauteous array.

The Four Ages Of The World

The goblet is sparkling with purpled-tinged wine,
Bright glistens the eye of each guest,
When into the hall comes the Minstrel divine,
To the good he now brings what is best;
For when from Elysium is absent the lyre,
No joy can the banquet of nectar inspire.

The Favor Of The Moment

Once more, then, we meet
In the circles of yore;
Let our song be as sweet
In its wreaths as before,

The Fairest Apparition

If thou never hast gazed upon beauty in moments of sorrow,
Thou canst with truth never boast that thou true beauty hast seen.
If thou never hast gazed upon gladness in beauteous features,
Thou canst with truth never boast that thou true gladness hast seen.

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