Poems begining by T
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The Berg (A Dream)
© Arvind Krishna Mehrotra
I saw a ship of martial build
(Her standards set, her brave apparel on)
The Fly
© Ishmael Reed
O hideous little bat, the size of snot,
With polyhedral eye and shabby clothes,
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 03:
© Conrad Aiken
The lamplit page is turned, the dream forgotten;
The music changes tone, you wake, remember
Deep worlds you lived before,deep worlds hereafter
Of leaf on falling leaf, music on music,
Rain and sorrow and wind and dust and laughter.
There’s only one natural death, and even that’s Bedcide For the post-mortem amusement of Richard Brautigan
© Edward Dorn
A B H O R E N C E S
November 10, 1984
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 10
© Publius Vergilius Maro
THE GATES of heavn unfold: Jove summons all
The gods to council in the common hall.
The Sprits Of Light And Darkness
© Madison Julius Cawein
As from the evil good
Springs like a fire,
As bland beatitude
Wells from the dire,
So was the Chaos brood
Of us the sire.
‘The Opal Sea’
© Ella Higginson
An inland sea – blue as a sapphire – set
Within a sparkling, emerald mountain chain
The Fabric of Life
© Kay Ryan
hurts working far past
the locus of rupture,
attacking threads
far beyond anything
we would have said
connects.
The Universal Route.
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
As we journey along, with a laugh and a song,
We see, on youth's flower-decked slope,
The Wind Of March
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Up from the sea, the wild north wind is blowing
Under the sky's gray arch;
Smiling, I watch the shaken elm-boughs, knowing
It is the wind of March.
There Was a Little Turtle
© Pierre Reverdy
He snapped at a mosquito.
He snapped at a flea.
He snapped at a minnow.
He snapped at me.
The Melon
© Charles Simic
There was a melon fresh from the garden
So ripe the knife slurped
As it cut it into six slices.
The children were going back to school.
Their mother, passing out paper plates,
Would not live to see the leaves fall.
The Chrysalis
© George MacDonald
Methought I floated sightless, nor did know
That I had ears until I heard the cry
The Old Dream
© Augusta Davies Webster
NAY, tell me not. I will not know.
Because of her my life is bare,
The Character Of The Bore
© John Donne
Well; I may now receive and die. My sin
Indeed is great, but yet I have been in
The Man of Songs
© George MacDonald
"Thou wanderest in the land of dreams,
O man of many songs!
To thee what is, but looks and seems;
No realm to thee belongs!"
The Angel with the Broken Wing
© Dana Gioia
I am the Angel with the Broken Wing,
The one large statue in this quiet room.
The staff finds me too fierce, and so they shut
Faith’s ardor in this air-conditioned tomb.
