Poems begining by P
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Pentatina for Five Vowels
© Louis Zukofsky
Today is a trumpet to set the hounds baying.
The past is a fox the hunters are flaying.
Nothing unspoken goes without saying.
Love’s a casino where lovers risk playing.
The future’s a marker our hearts are prepaying.
Poems On Life
© Rabindranath Tagore
Life's errors cry for the merciful beauty
that can modulate their isolation into a
harmony with the whole.
Poem about People
© Robert Pinsky
The jaunty crop-haired graying
Women in grocery stores,
Their clothes boyish and neat,
New mittens or clean sneakers,
Pioneers
© Hamlin Garland
THEY rise to mastery of wind and snow;
They go like soldiers grimly into strife
To colonize the plain. They plough and sow,
And fertilize the sod with their own life,
As did the Indian and the buffalo.
Prejudice
© Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
How strangely blind is prejudice, the Negro's greatest foe!
It never fails to see the wrong but naught of good can know.
'Tis blind to all that's lofty, yea, to truth it is opposed,
Degrading things will ope his eyes, while good will keep them closed.
Phantasmagoria Canto I (The Trystyng )
© Lewis Carroll
ONE winter night, at half-past nine,
Cold, tired, and cross, and muddy,
I had come home, too late to dine,
And supper, with cigars and wine,
Was waiting in the study.
Prayer
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Give us the open mind, O God,
The mind that dares believe
In paths of thought as yet untrod;
The mind that can conceive
Large visions of a wider way
Than circumscribes our world to-day.
Psalm I.
© John Milton
Bless'd is the man who hath not walk'd astray
In counsel of the wicked, and ith'way
Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat
Of scorners hath not sate. But in the great
Phillis I Long Yr Powr Have Ownd
© Thomas Parnell
Phillis I long yr powr have ownd
& you still gently swayd
Pretty
© Stevie Smith
Why is the word pretty so underrated?
In November the leaf is pretty when it falls
The stream grows deep in the woods after rain
And in the pretty pool the pike stalks
Paschal
© Robert Pinsky
Easter was the old North
Goddess of the dawn.
She rises daily in the East
And yearly in spring for the great
People Getting Divorced
© Gaius Valerius Catullus
People getting divorced
riding around with their clothes in the car
Passage over Water
© Robert Duncan
We have gone out in boats upon the sea at night,
lost, and the vast waters close traps of fear about us.
The boats are driven apart, and we are alone at last
under the incalculable sky, listless, diseased with stars.
Poem Beginning with a Line by Milosz
© Laura Riding Jackson
“The most beautiful bodies are like transparent glass.”
They are bodies of the selfless or of those newly
Psalm 58
© Christopher Smart
Ye congregation of the tribes,
On justice do you set your mind;
And are ye free from guile and bribes
Ye judges of mankind?
Praise For Thee, Lord, in Zion Waits
© Henry Francis Lyte
Praise for Thee, Lord, in Zion waits;
Prayer shall besiege Thy temple gates;
All flesh shall to Thy throne repair,
And find through Christ salvation there.
Prayer for the Dead by Stuart Kestenbaum: American Life in Poetry #181 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureat
© Ted Kooser
Stuart Kestenbaum, the author of this week's poem, lost his brother Howard in the destruction of the twin towers of the World Trade Center. We thought it appropriate to commemorate the events of September 11, 2001, by sharing this poem. The poet is the director of the Haystack Mountain School of Crafts on Deer Isle, Maine.
Prayer for the Dead
