Poems begining by T
/ page 426 of 916 /
The Round
© Stanley Kunitz
I can scarcely wait till tomorrow
when a new life begins for me,
as it does each day,
as it does each day.
The Science Of The Night
© Stanley Kunitz
I touch you in the night, whose gift was you,
My careless sprawler,
And I touch you cold, unstirring, star-bemused,
That have become the land of your self-strangeness.
The Long Boat
© Stanley Kunitz
When his boat snapped loose
from its mooring, under
the screaking of the gulls,
he tried at first to wave
The Portrait
© Stanley Kunitz
My mother never forgave my father
for killing himself,
especially at such an awkward time
and in a public park,
Tractor
© Ted Hughes
Worse iron is waiting. Power-lift kneels
Levers awake imprisoned deadweight,
Shackle-pins bedded in cast-iron cow-shit.
The blind and vibrating condemned obedience
Of iron to the cruelty of iron,
Wheels screeched out of their night-locks -
The Owl
© Ted Hughes
I saw my world again through your eyes
As I would see it again through your children's eyes.
Through your eyes it was foreign.
Plain hedge hawthorns were peculiar aliens,
The Minotaur
© Ted Hughes
The mahogany table-top you smashed
Had been the broad plank top
Of my mother's heirloom sideboard-
Mapped with the scars of my whole life.
Theology
© Ted Hughes
"No, the serpent did not
Seduce Eve to the apple.
All that's simply
Corruption of the facts.
Thrushes
© Ted Hughes
Terrifying are the attent sleek thrushes on the lawn,
More coiled steel than living - a poised
Dark deadly eye, those delicate legs
Triggered to stirrings beyond sense - with a start, a bounce,
Thistles
© Ted Hughes
Against the rubber tongues of cows and the hoeing hands of men
Thistles spike the summer air
And crackle open under a blue-black pressure.
The Thought-Fox
© Ted Hughes
I imagine this midnight moment's forest:
Something else is alive
Beside the clock's loneliness
And this blank page where my fingers move.
The Harvest Moon
© Ted Hughes
So people can't sleep,
So they go out where elms and oak trees keep
A kneeling vigil, in a religious hush.
The harvest moon has come!
Trying To Pray
© James Wright
This time, I have left my body behind me, crying
In its dark thorns.
Still,
There are good things in this world.
The Jewel
© James Wright
There is this cave
In the air behind my body
That nobodyt is going to touch:
A cloister, a silence
The Resignation
© Thomas Chatterton
O God, whose thunder shakes the sky,
Whose eye this atom globe surveys,
To thee, my only rock, I fly,
Thy mercy in thy justice praise.
The Methodist
© Thomas Chatterton
Says Tom to Jack, 'tis very odd,
These representatives of God,
In color, way of life and evil,
Should be so very like the devil.
The Death of Nicou
© Thomas Chatterton
On Tiber's banks, Tiber, whose waters glide
In slow meanders down to Gaigra's side;
And circling all the horrid mountain round,
Rushes impetuous to the deep profound;
The Copernican System
© Thomas Chatterton
The Sun revolving on his axis turns,
And with creative fire intensely burns;
Impell'd by forcive air, our Earth supreme,
Rolls with the planets round the solar gleam.
The Barrier
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
The Midnight wooed the Morning Star,
And prayed her: "Love come nearer;
Your swinging coldly there afar
To me but makes you dearer."
