Poems begining by Y
/ page 18 of 19 /Young Night-Thought
© Robert Louis Stevenson
All night long and every night,
When my mama puts out the light,
I see the people marching by,
As plain as day before my eye.
You Looked So Tempting In The Pew
© Robert Louis Stevenson
YOU looked so tempting in the pew,
You looked so sly and calm -
My trembling fingers played with yours
As both looked out the Psalm.
Your Hay It Is Mow'd, And Your Corn Is Reap'd
© John Dryden
(Man.) We ha' cheated the parson, we'll cheat him agen,
For why should a blockhead ha' one in ten?
One in ten,
One in ten,
For why should a blockhead ha' one in ten?
You and I
© Roger McGough
I explain quietly. You
hear me shouting. You
try a new tack. I
feel old wounds reopen.
Your Dad Did What?
© Sophie Hannah
Where they have been, if they have been away,
or what they've done at home, if they have not -
you make them write about the holiday.
One writes My Dad did. What? Your Dad did what?
You Asked How (formerly Even Now She Is Turning, Saying Everything I Always Wanted Her to Say)
© Nick Flynn
At the end there were straws
in her glove compartment, I'd split them open
to taste the familiar bitter residue, near the end
I ate all her Percodans, hungry to know
Year's End
© Weldon Kees
So rot in a closet in the ground
For the bad trumpets and the capitol's
Long seasonable grief. Rot for its guests,
Alive, that step away from death. Yet you,
A year cold, come more living to this room
Than these intruders, vertical and warm.
You Know Where You Did Despise
© Alexander Pope
You know where you did despise
(Tother day) my little Eyes,
Little Legs, and little Thighs,
And some things, of little Size,
You know where.
Your Love And Mercy
© Gary R. Ferris
And all You created for me to see.
*****
The trees gently blow in the wind,
Your Fears
© Gary R. Ferris
Scared of things, that is not in sight.
*****
Some fears are bad, and some fears seem good,
Yes Yes
© Charles Bukowski
when He created you lying in bed
He knew what He was doing
He was drunk and He was high
and He created the mountians and the sea and fire at the same time
Young In New Orleans
© Charles Bukowski
starving there, sitting around the bars,
and at night walking the streets for hours,
the moonlight always seemed fake
to me, mabye it was,
Your thoughts don't have words every day
© Emily Dickinson
Your thoughts don't have words every day
They come a single time
Like signal esoteric sips
Of the communion Wine
Your Riches -- taught me -- Poverty.
© Emily Dickinson
Your Riches -- taught me -- Poverty.
Myself -- a Millionaire
In little Wealths, as Girls could boast
Till broad as Buenos Ayre --
You've seen Balloons set -- Haven't You?
© Emily Dickinson
You've seen Balloons set -- Haven't You?
So stately they ascend --
It is as Swans -- discarded You,
For Duties Diamond --
You're right -- "the way is narrow"
© Emily Dickinson
You're right -- "the way is narrow" --
And "difficult the Gate" --
And "few there be" -- Correct again --
That "enter in -- thereat" --
You'll know it -- as you know 'tis Noon
© Emily Dickinson
You'll know it -- as you know 'tis Noon --
By Glory --
As you do the Sun --
By Glory --
As you will in Heaven --
Know God the Father -- and the Son.
You'll know Her -- by Her Foot --
© Emily Dickinson
You'll know Her -- by Her Foot --
The smallest Gamboge Hand
With Fingers -- where the Toes should be --
Would more affront the Sand --
You'll find -- it when you try to die --
© Emily Dickinson
You'll find -- it when you try to die --
The Easier to let go --
For recollecting such as went --
You could not spare -- you know.
You taught me Waiting with Myself --
© Emily Dickinson
You taught me Waiting with Myself --
Appointment strictly kept --
You taught me fortitude of Fate --
This -- also -- I have learnt --