Work poems
/ page 322 of 355 /As Through the Wild Green Hills of Wyre
© Alfred Edward Housman
As through the wild green hills of Wyre
The train ran, changing sky and shire,
And far behind, a fading crest,
Low in the forsaken west
At Pleasure Bay
© Robert Pinsky
In the willows along the river at Pleasure Bay
A catbird singing, never the same phrase twice.
Here under the pines a little off the road
In 1927 the Chief of Police
Shirt
© Robert Pinsky
The back, the yoke, the yardage. Lapped seams,
The nearly invisible stitches along the collar
Turned in a sweatshop by Koreans or Malaysians
Impossible To Tell
© Robert Pinsky
Slow dulcimer, gavotte and bow, in autumn,
Bashõ and his friends go out to view the moon;
In summer, gasoline rainbow in the gutter,
Poem in Prose
© Archibald MacLeish
This poem is for my wife.
I have made it plainly and honestly:
The mark is on it
Like the burl on the knife.
Bad Day At The Beauty Salon
© Maggie Estep
I was a 20 year old unemployed receptionist with
dyed orange dreadlocks sprouting out of my skull. I needed a job, but first,
I needed a haircut.
True Love
© Robert Penn Warren
In silence the heart raves.It utters words
Meaningless, that never had
A meaning.I was ten, skinny, red-headed,
Underground System
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
Set the foot down with distrust upon the crust of the
worldit is thin.
Moles are at work beneath us; they have tunneled the
sub-soil
The Poet And His Book
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
Down, you mongrel, Death!
Back into your kennel!
I have stolen breath
In a stalk of fennel!
Think Not, Not For A Moment Let Your Mind
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
Think not, not for a moment let your mind,
Wearied with thinking, doze upon the thought
That the work's done and the long day behind,
And beauty, since 'tis paid for, can be bought.
Intention To Escape From Him
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
Edna St. Vincent Millay - Intention To Escape From Him I think I will learn some beautiful language, useless for commercial
Purposes, work hard at that.
I think I will learn the Latin name of every songbird, not only in
America but wherever they sing.
Not In A Silver Casket Cool With Pearls
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
Not in a silver casket cool with pearls
Or rich with red corundum or with blue,
Locked, and the key withheld, as other girls
Have given their loves, I give my love to you;
Departure
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
It's little I care what path I take,
And where it leads it's little I care;
But out of this house, lest my heart break,
I must go, and off somewhere.
The Ballad Of The Harp-Weaver
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
"Son," said my mother,
When I was knee-high,
"you've need of clothes to cover you,
and not a rag have I.
Modern Declaration
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
That I shall love you always.
No matter what party is in power;
No matter what temporarily expedient combination of allied
interests wins the war;
Shall love you always.
Prisoner, The - (A Fragment)
© Emily Jane Brontë
In the dungeon-crypts, idly did I stray,
Reckless of the lives wasting there away;
"Draw the ponderous bars! open, Warder stern!"
He dared not say me nay - the hinges harshly turn.
Axe Handles
© Gary Snyder
One afternoon the last week in April
Showing Kai how to throw a hatchet
One-half turn and it sticks in a stump.
He recalls the hatchet-head
There Are Those Who Love To Get Dirty
© Gary Snyder
There are those who love to get dirty
and fix things.
They drink coffee at dawn,
beer after work,
How We Are
© Lisa Zaran
My father's voice in the back of my head,
saying, forget that I'm dead and if you
can not do that than pretend.