Poetry poems
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A Marriage
© Eli Siegel
An auto going south, and words in a room,
And outside, pink of May, white of June, brown of September,
white of December.
3.
Trust by Thomas R. Smith: American Life in Poetry #141 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Life becomes more complicated every day, and each of us can control only so much of what happens. As for the rest? Poet Thomas R. Smith of Wisconsin offers some practical advice.
Trust
It's like so many other things in life
to which you must say no or yes.
So you take your car to the new mechanic.
Sometimes the best thing to do is trust.
What the Frost Casts Up by Ed Ochester: American Life in Poetry #150 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate
© Ted Kooser
There's a world of great interest and significance right under our feet, but most of us don't think to look down. We spend most of our time peering off into the future, speculating on how we will deal with whatever is coming our way. Or dwelling on the past. Here Ed Ochester stops in the middle of life to look down.
What the Frost Casts Up
Some Boys are Born to Wander by Walter McDonald: American Life in Poetry #48 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet L
© Ted Kooser
Every parent can tell a score of tales about the difficulties of raising children, and then of the difficulties in letting go of them. Here the Texas poet, Walt McDonald, shares just such a story.
Some Boys are Born to Wander
From Michigan our son writes, How many elk?
How many big horn sheep? It's spring,
and soon they'll be gone above timberline,
Satyr XII. The Test Of Poetry
© Thomas Parnell
Much have I writt, says Bavius, Mankind knows
By my quick printing how my fancy flows:
(Untitled) by Joette Giorgis : American Life in Poetry #250 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
I’m very fond of poems that demonstrate their authors’ attentiveness to the world about them, as regular readers of this column have no doubt noticed. Here is a nine-word poem by Joette Giorgis, who lives in Pennsylvania, that is based upon noticing and then thinking about something so ordinary that it might otherwise be overlooked. Even the separate words are flat and commonplace. But so much feeling comes through!
(Untitled)
children grown-
Ballade adresse a Geoffrey Chaucer
© Eustache Deschamps
O Socratès plains de philosophie,
Seneque en meurs, Auglius en pratique,
Ovides grans en ta poëtrie,
Briés en parler, saiges en rethorique . . .
Grant translateur, noble Geoffrey Chaucier.
Drought by Felecia Caton Garcia: American Life in Poetry #111 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-20
© Ted Kooser
As poet Felecia Caton Garcia of New Mexico shows us in this moving poem, there are times when parents feel helpless and hopeless. But the human heart is remarkable and, like a dry creek bed, somehow fills again, is renewed and restored.
Drought
Try to remember: things go wrong in spite of it all.
I listen to our daughters singing in the crackling rows
of corn and wonder why I don't love them more.
They move like dark birds, small mouths open
Self-Portrait by Zozan Hawez: American Life in Poetry #198 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Now, in the city of rain,
I try to forget my past,
But memories never fade.
Whoever Brought Me Here
© Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I'm sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.
Tale V
© George Crabbe
these,
All that on idle, ardent spirits seize;
Robbers at land and pirates on the main,
Enchanters foil'd, spells broken, giants slain;
Legends of love, with tales of halls and bowers,
Choice of rare songs, and garlands of choice
A Welcome From The "Johnson Club"
© Henry Austin Dobson
When Pope came back from Trojan wars once more,
He found a Bard, to meet him on the shore,
And hail his advent with a strain as clear
As e'er was sung by BYRON or by FRERE.
Grandfather by Andrei Guruianu: American Life in Poetry #12 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2006
© Ted Kooser
Perhaps your family passes on the names of loved ones to subsequent generations. This poem by Andrei Guruianu speaks to the loving and humbling nature of sharing another's name.
Au Salon
© Ezra Pound
Her grave, sweet haughtiness
Pleaseth me, and in like wise
Her quiet ironies.
Others are beautiful, none more, some less.
On Reading The Controversy Between Lord Byron And Mr Bowles
© Barron Field
WHETHER a ship's poetic? - Bowles would own,
If here he dwelt, where Nature is prosaic,
Columbus Park by Anne Pierson Wiese: American Life in Poetry #130 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 200
© Ted Kooser
A number of American poets are adept at describing places and the people who inhabit them. Galway Kinnell's great poem, âThe Avenue Bearing the Initial of Christ into the New Worldâ? is one of those masterpieces, and there are many others. Here Anne Pierson Wiese, winner of the Walt Whitman Award from the Academy of American Poets, adds to that tradition.
The Task: Book V. -- The Winter Morning Walk
© William Cowper
Tis morning; and the sun, with ruddy orb
Ascending, fires the horizon; while the clouds,
Egypt Unvisited. Suggested by Mr. Roberts' Egyptian Sketches
© Alaric Alexander Watts
The poetry of earth is fading fast;
It hath no region it can call its own;
What My Father Left Behind by Chris Forhan: American Life in Poetry #200 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laure
© Ted Kooser
Here's a fine poem by Chris Forhan of Indiana, about surviving the loss of a parent, and which celebrates the lives that survive it, that go on. I especially like the parachute floating up and away, just as the lost father has gone up and away.
What My Father Left Behind
Jam jar of cigarette ends and ashes on his workbench,
hammer he nailed our address to a stump with,
balsa wood steamship, half-finishedâ
Sordello: Book the Second
© Robert Browning
What next? The curtains see
Dividing! She is there; and presently
He will be there-the proper You, at length-
In your own cherished dress of grace and strength:
Most like, the very Boniface!
