Discovery Of the New World By Carter Revard The creatures that we met this morning marvelled at our green skins and scarlet eyes. They lack antennae and can’t be made to grasp your proclamation that they are our lawful food…
Category: Poem Analysis
Children in Wartime
Children in Wartime By Isobel Thrilling Sirens ripped open the warm silk of sleep; we ricocheted to the shelter moated by streets that ran with darkness. People said it was a storm, but flak had not the right sound for…
Cherokee Rose
Cherokee Rose By Marc McCord Seven petals for seven tribes growing on the trail where they cried. Center of gold for the land white men stole. Four thousand of my ancestors died. The trail was long, the journey harsh crossing…
Life In Our Village
Life In Our Village By Markwei Martie In our little village When elders are around, Boys must not look at girls And girls must not look at boys Because the elders say That is not good. Even when night comes…
Break of Day
Break of Day By John Donne ‘Tis true, ‘tis day, what though it be? O wilt thou therefore rise from me? Why should we rise because ‘tis light? Did we lie down because ‘twas night? Love, which in spite of…
Departmental
Departmental By Robert Frost An ant on the tablecloth Ran into a dormant moth Of many times his size. He showed not the least surprise. His business wasn’t with such. He gave it scarcely a touch, And was off on…
Bully
Bully By Martin Espada In the school auditorium, the Theodore Roosevelt statue is nostalgic for the Spanish-American war each fist lonely for a saber, or the reins of anguish-eyed horses, or a podium to clatter with speeches glorying in the…
Bullocky
Bullocky By Judith Wright Beside his heavy-shouldered team thirsty with drought and chilled with rain, he weathered all the striding years till they ran widdershins in his brain: Till the long solitary tracks etched deeper with each lurching load were…
Written by Himself
Written by Himself By Gregory Pardlo I was born in minutes in a roadside kitchen a skillet whispering my name. I was born to rainwater and lye; I was born across the river where I was borrowed with clothespins, a…
Six O’Clock News
Six O’Clock News By Tom Leonard this is thi six a clock news thi man said n thi reason a talk wia BBC accent iz coz yi widny wahnt mi ti talk aboot thi trooth wia voice lik wanna yoo…
Sir Patrick Spens
Sir Patrick Spens By Scottish Anonymous The King sits in Dunfermline town, Drinking the blood-red wine; “O where shall I get a skeely skipper To sail this ship or mine?” Then up and spake an eldern knight, Sat at the…
September Twelfth, 2001
September Twelfth, 2001 By X. J. Kennedy Two caught on film who hurtle from the eighty-second floor, choosing between a fireball and to jump holding hands, aren’t us. I wake beside you, stretch, scratch, taste the air, the incredible joy…
September 1, 1939
September 1, 1939 By W. H. Auden I sit in one of the dives On Fifty-second Street Uncertain and afraid As the clever hopes expire Of a low dishonest decade: Waves of anger and fear Circulate over the bright And…
Rule Britannia
Rule Britannia By James Thomson When Britain first, at heaven’s command, Arose from out the azure main, This was the charter of the land, And guardian angels sung this strain— “Rule, Britannia, rule the waves; Britons never will be slaves.”…
Second Fig
Second Fig By Edna St. Vincent Millay Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand: Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand! Summary of Second Fig Popularity of “Second Fig”: The poem ‘Second Fig’ was written…
In a Convex Mirror
In a Convex Mirror By Rosemary Dobson See, in the circle, how we stand, As pictured angels touching wings Inflame a Dutch interior Bespeaking birth, foretelling kings. The room is still and brushed with dusk; Shall we not disregard the…
Frederick Douglass
Frederick Douglass By Robert Hayden When it is finally ours, this freedom, this liberty, this beautiful and terrible thing, needful to man as air, usable as earth; when it belongs at last to all, when it is truly instinct, brain…
Refugee in America
Refugee in America By Langston Hughes There are words like Freedom Sweet and wonderful to say On my heart-strings freedom sings All day everyday. There are words like Liberty That almost make me cry. If you had known what I…
Quiet Work
Quiet Work By Matthew Arnold One lesson, Nature, let me learn of thee, One lesson which in every wind is blown, One lesson of two duties kept at one Though the loud world proclaim their enmity– Of toil unsever’d from…
Immigrants at Central Station 1951
Immigrants at Central Station, 1951 By Peter Skrzynecki It was sad to hear The trains whistle this morning At the railway station. All night it had rained. The air was crowded With a dampness that slowly Sank into our thoughts-…