First Day After The War By Mazisi Kunene We heard the songs of a wedding party. We saw a soft light Coiling round the young blades of grass At first we hesitated, then we saw her footprints, Her face emerged,…
Category: Poem Analysis
Fireflies In The Garden
Fireflies In The Garden By Robert Frost Here come real stars to fill the upper skies, And here on earth come emulating flies, That though they never equal stars in size, (And they were never really stars at heart) Achieve…
Examination at the Womb Door
Examination at the Womb Door By Ted Hughes Who owns those scrawny little feet? Death. Who owns this bristly scorched-looking face? Death. Who owns these still-working lungs? Death. Who owns this utility coat of muscles? Death.…
I Ask My Mother to Sing
I Ask My Mother to Sing By Li-Young Lee She begins, and my grandmother joins her. Mother and daughter sing like young girls. If my father were alive, he would play his accordion and sway like a boat. I’ve never…
egg horror
egg horror By Laurel Winter Small White Afraid of heights Whispering in the cold, dark cartoon To the rest of the dozen. They are ten now. Any meal is dangerous. but they fear breakfast most. They jostle in their compartments…
Edward, Edward
Edward, Edward (A Scottish Ballad) By Anonymous ‘Why does your sword so drip with blood, Edward, Edward? Why does your sword so drip with blood? And why so sad are ye, O?’ ‘O, I have killed my hawk so good,…
Disembarking at Quebec
Disembarking at Quebec By Margaret Atwood Is it my clothes, my way of walking, the things I carry in my hand – a book, a bag with knitting- the incongruous pink of my shawl this space cannot hear or is…
London, 1802
London, 1802 By William Wordsworth Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altar, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their…
How Do I Love Thee?
How Do I Love Thee? By Elizabeth Barrett Browning How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the…
Here Dead We Lie
Here Dead We Lie By Alfred Edward Houseman Here dead we lie Because we did not choose To live and shame the land From which we sprung. Life, to be sure, Is nothing much to lose, But young men think…
The Harlem Dancer
The Harlem Dancer By Claude McKay Applauding youths laughed with young prostitutes And watched her perfect, half-clothed body sway; Her voice was like the sound of blended flutes Blown by black players upon a picnic day. She sang and danced…
Gooseberry Season
Gooseberry Season By Simon Armitage Which reminds me. He appeared at noon, asking for water. He’d walked from town after losing his job, leaving me a note for his wife and his brother and locking his dog in the coal…
Woman with Kite
Woman with Kite By Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni Meadow of crabgrass, faded dandelions, querulous child-like voice. She takes from her son’s disgruntled hands the spool of the kite that will not fly. Pulls on the heavy string, ground glass rough between…
Messy Room
Messy Room By Shel Silverstein Whosever room this is should be ashamed! His underwear is hanging on the lamp. His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair, And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp. His workbook is wedged…
Death The Leveller
Death The Leveller By James Shirley The glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things; There is no armour against Fate; Death lays his icy hand on kings: Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the…
Crossing The Bar
Crossing The Bar By Lord Alfred Tennyson Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea, But such a tide as moving seems asleep,…
Cousin Kate
Cousin Kate By Christina Rossetti I was a cottage maiden Hardened by sun and air, Contented with my cottage mates, Not mindful I was fair. Why did a great lord find me out, And praise my flaxen hair? Why did…
Coup De Grace
Coup De Grace By Noel Moratilla When you bother to come to our slums, remember to carry the hardest & heaviest rifles to jog our memory. Bring some gasoline to singe our unwashed conscience. Sear our flesh misshapen by bullet…
Christmas 1970
Christmas 1970 By Sandra M. Castillo We assemble the silver tree, our translated lives, its luminous branches, numbered to fit into its body. place its metallic roots to decorate our first Christmas. Mother finds herself opening, closing the Red Cross…
Choices
Choices By Nikki Giovanni If i can’t do what i want to do then my job is to not do what i don’t want to do It’s not the same thing but it’s the best i can do If i…