Poems begining by T
/ page 692 of 916 /
The Boys
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
HAS there any old fellow got mixed with the boys?
If there has, take him out, without making a noise.
Hang the Almanac's cheat and the Catalogue's spite!
Old Time is a liar! We're twenty to-night!
The Chambered Nautilus
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THIS is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,
Sails the unshadowed main,--
The venturous bark that flings
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
The Deacon's Masterpiece Or, The Wonderful "One-Hoss Shay": A Logical Story
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay,
That was built in such a logical way
It ran a hundred years to a day,
And then, of a sudden, it -- ah, but stay,
The Old Man Dreams
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
OH for one hour of youthful joy!
Give back my twentieth spring!
I'd rather laugh, a bright-haired boy,
Than reign, a gray-beard king.
The Tenor Man
© Adrian Green
Pottering around the stage,
a hyperactive ancient in his own backyard -
independent of the band it seems.
The Errand
© Anne Sexton
I've been going right on, page by page,
since we last kissed, two long dolls in a cage,
two hunger-mongers throwing a myth in and out,
double-crossing out lives with doubt,
leaving us separate now, fogy with rage.
The Expatriates
© Anne Sexton
My dear, it was a moment
to clutch for a moment
so that you may believe in it
and believing is the act of love, I think,
even in the telling, wherever it went.
The Fury Of Earth
© Anne Sexton
The day of fire is coming, the thrush,
will fly ablaze like a little sky rocket,
the beetle will sink like a giant bulldozer,
and at the breaking of the morning the houses
The Stand-Ins
© Anne Sexton
In the dream
the swastika is neon
and flashes like a strobe light
into my eyes, all colors,
The Pixy and the Grocer
© Hans Christian Andersen
How bright the room seemed! It was as if a ray of light came from the book, a luminous tree whose branches spread out across the ceiling. The leaves were fresh and green and on each branch flowers bloomed and fruit hung. The flowers were faces of young maidens, some with radiant dark eyes and other(s) with clear blue ones. The fruits were sparkling stars. All the while the most beautiful music could be heard.
……………….
The Fury Of Cooks
© Anne Sexton
Herbs, garlic,
cheese, please let me in!
Souffles, salad,
Parker House rolls,
The Missionary - Canto Eighth
© William Lisle Bowles
Oh, shout for Lautaro, the young and the brave!
The arm of whose strength was uplifted to save,
When the steeds of the strangers came rushing amain,
And the ghosts of our fathers looked down on the slain!
The Firebombers
© Anne Sexton
We are America.
We are the coffin fillers.
We are the grocers of death.
We pack them in crates like cauliflowers.
The Interrogation Of The Man Of Many Hearts
© Anne Sexton
She's the one I carried my bones to
and built a house that was just a cot
and built a life that was over an hour
and built a castle where no one lives
and built, in the end, a song
to go with the ceremony.
The Coal-Fire
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
1.
COME, we 'll light the parlor fire;
Winter sets in sharp and rough.
Wood is dear, but coal's provided,
The Fury Of Sundays
© Anne Sexton
Moist, moist,
the heat leaking through the hinges,
sun baking the roof like a pie
and I and thou and she
The Toy-Strewn Home
© Edgar Albert Guest
Give me the house where the toys are strewn,
Where the dolls are asleep in the chairs,
The Fury Of Flowers And Worms
© Anne Sexton
Let the flowers make a journey
on Monday so that I can see
ten daisies in a blue vase
with perhaps one red ant
The Legend Of The One-Eyed Man
© Anne Sexton
Like Oedipus I am losing my sight.
LIke Judas I have done my wrong.
Their punishment is over;
the shame and disgrace of it
