Poems begining by S
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Sorrows Interest
© Gary R. Ferris
And finances seem to slim.
*****
The car wont start and kids are sick,
Sign-Post
© Robinson Jeffers
Civilized, crying: how to be human again; this will tell you how.
Turn outward, love things, not men, turn right away from humanity,
Let that doll lie. Consider if you like how the lilies grow,
Lean on the silent rock until you feel its divinity
So Many Blood-Lakes
© Robinson Jeffers
We have now won two world-wars, neither of which concerned us, we were
slipped in. We have levelled the powers
Of Europe, that were the powers of the world, into rubble and
dependence. We have won two wars and a third is comming.
Suicide's Stone
© Robinson Jeffers
Peace is the heir of dead desire,
Whether abundance killed the cormorant
In a happy hour, or sleep or death
Drowned him deep in dreamy waters,
Peace is the ashes of that fire,
The heir of that king, the inn of that journey.
Shine, Perishing Republic
© Robinson Jeffers
While this America settles in the mould of its vulgarity, heavily thickening
to empire
And protest, only a bubble in the molten mass, pops and sighs out, and the
mass hardens,
Summer Holiday
© Robinson Jeffers
When the sun shouts and people abound
One thinks there were the ages of stone and the age of
bronze
And the iron age; iron the unstable metal;
Shiva
© Robinson Jeffers
There is a hawk that is picking the birds out of our sky,
She killed the pigeons of peace and security,
She has taken honesty and confidence from nations and men,
She is hunting the lonely heron of liberty.
Squash in Blossom
© Robert Francis
How lush, how loose, the uninhibited squash is.
If ever hearts (and these immoderate leaves
Are vegetable hearts) were worn on sleeves,
The squash's are. In green the squash vine gushes.
Sheep
© Robert Francis
From where I stand the sheep stand still
As stones against the stony hill.The stones are gray
And so are they.And both are weatherworn and round,
Leading the eye back to the ground.Two mingled flocks -
Summons
© Robert Francis
Keep me from going to sleep too soon
Or if I go to sleep too soon
Come wake me up. Come any hour
Of night. Come whistling up the road.
Silent Poem
© Robert Francis
backroad leafmold stonewall chipmunk
underbrush grapevine woodchuck shadblow woodsmoke cowbarn honeysuckle woodpile
sawhorse bucksaw outhouse wellsweep backdoor flagstone bulkhead buttermilk
candlestick ragrug firedog brownbread hilltop outcrop cowbell buttercup
Symbol
© Robert Francis
The winter apples have been picked, the garden turned.
Rain and wind have picked the maple leaves and gone.
The last of them now bank the house or have been burned.
None are left upon the trees or on the lawn.
Sway With Me
© Charles Bukowski
sway with me, everything sad --
madmen in stone houses
without doors,
lepers steaming love and song
Something For The Touts, The Nuns, The Grocery Clerks, And You . . .
© Charles Bukowski
some do it naturally
some obscenely
everywhere.
Sleep
© Charles Bukowski
she was a short one
getting fat and she had once been
beautiful and
she drank the wine
Some People
© Charles Bukowski
some people never go crazy.
me, sometimes I'll lie down behind the couch
for 3 or 4 days.
they'll find me there.
Short Order
© Charles Bukowski
I took my girlfriend to your last poetry reading,
she said.
yes, yes? I asked.
she's young and pretty, she said.
