Smile poems
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Madness
© Henry James Pye
Here some grave Man whose head with prudence fraught
Was ne'er disturb'd by one eccentric thought,
Who without meaning rolls his leaden eyes,
And being stupid, fancies he is wise,
May with sagacious sneers my case deplore,
And urge the use of rest, and Hellebore.
Two Seasons
© Galway Kinnell
The stars were wild that summer evening
As on the low lake shore stood you and I
And every time I caught your flashing eye
Or heard your voice discourse on anything
It seemed a star went burning down the sky.
Homesick In Heaven
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THE DIVINE VOICE
Go seek thine earth-born sisters,--thus the Voice
That all obey,--the sad and silent three;
These only, while the hosts of Heaven rejoice,
Smile never; ask them what their sorrows be;
Stupra II
© Arthur Rimbaud
Our buttocks are not theirs.
I have often seen people unbuttoned behind some hedge;
and, in those shameless bathings where children are gay,
I used to observe the form and performance of our arse.
Poem Of Night
© Galway Kinnell
I move my hand over
slopes, falls, lumps of sight,
Lashes barely able to be touched,
Lips that give way so easily
it's a shock to feel underneath them
After Making Love We Hear Footsteps
© Galway Kinnell
In the half darkness we look at each other
and smile
and touch arms across his little, startling muscled body -
this one whom habit of memory propels to the ground of his making,
sleeper only the mortal sounds can sing awake,
this blessing love gives again into our arms.
Sonnet. "Say thou not sadly, "never," and "no more,""
© Frances Anne Kemble
Say thou not sadly, "never," and "no more,"
But from thy lips banish those falsest words;
The Wizard Way
© Aleister Crowley
He had crucified a toad
In the basilisk abode,
Muttering the Runes averse
Mad with many a mocking curse.
The Rhyme of the Three Greybeards
© Henry Lawson
He'd been for years in Sydney "a-acting of the goat",
His name was Joseph Swallow, "the Great Australian Pote",
In spite of all the stories and sketches that he wrote.
The Four Winds
© Aleister Crowley
The South wind said to the palms:
My lovers sing me psalms;
But are they as warm as those
That Laylah's lover knows?
The Disciples
© Aleister Crowley
Beneath the vine tree and the fig
Where mortal cares may not intrude,
On melon and on sucking pig
Although their brains are bright and big
Banquet the Great White Brotherhood.
A Defence Of English Spring
© Alfred Austin
Unnamed, unknown, but surely bred
Where Thames, once silver, now runs lead,
Independence
© Aleister Crowley
Come to my arms --- is it eve? is it morn?
Is Apollo awake? Is Diana reborn?
Are the streams in full song? Do the woods whisper hush
Is it the nightingale? Is it the thrush?
The Borough. Letter XII: Players
© George Crabbe
DRAWN by the annual call, we now behold
Our Troop Dramatic, heroes known of old,
And those, since last they march'd, enlisted and
Vows
© Ada Cambridge
Nay, ask me not. I would not dare pretend
To constant passion and a life-long trust.
the missing
© Suheir Hammad
the way loss seeps
into neck hollows
and curls at temples
sits between front teeth
At Dawn
© Edgar Albert Guest
They come to my room at the break of the day,
With their faces all smiles and their minds full of play;
They come on their tip-toes and silently creep
To the edge of the bed where I'm lying asleep,
And then at a signal, on which they agree,
With a shout of delight they jump right onto me.
Love's Ordeal
© George MacDonald
In a lovely garden walking
Two lovers went hand in hand;
Two wan, worn figures, talking
They sat in the flowery land.
