Flying at Night By Ted Kooser Above us, stars. Beneath us, constellations. Five billion miles away, a galaxy dies like a snowflake falling on water. Below us, some farmer, feeling the chill of that distant death, snaps on his yard…
Tag: poem analysis
Problems with Hurricanes
Problems with Hurricanes By Victor Hernández Cruz – 1949- A campesino looked at the air And told me: With hurricanes it’s not the wind or the noise or the water. I’ll tell you he said: it’s the mangoes, avocados Green…
Refugees
Refugees By Brian Bilston They have no need of our help So do not tell me These haggard faces could belong to you or me Should life have dealt a different hand We need to see them for who they…
Rite of Passage
Rite of Passage By Sharon Olds As the guests arrive at our son’s party they gather in the living room— short men, men in first grade with smooth jaws and chins. Hands in pockets, they stand around jostling, jockeying for…
Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note
Preface to a Twenty Volume Suicide Note By Amiri Baraka for Kellie Jones, born 16 May 1959 Lately, I’ve become accustomed to the way The ground opens up and envelopes me Each time I go out to walk the dog.…
Munition Wages
Munition Wages By Madeline Ida Bedford Earning high wages? Yus, Five quid a week. A woman, too, mind you, I calls it dim sweet. Ye’are asking some questions — But bless yer, here goes: I spends the whole racket On…
A Leave-Taking
A Leave-Taking By Algernon Charles Swinburne Let us go hence, my songs; she will not hear. Let us go hence together without fear; Keep silence now, for singing-time is over, And over all old things and all things dear. She…
Mrs Aesop
Mrs Aesop By Carol Ann Duffy By Christ, he could bore me for Purgatory. He was small didn’t prepossess. So he tried to impress. Dead men, Mrs Aesop, he’d say, tell no tales. Well, let me tell you now that the bird…
Mother, Washing Dishes
Mother, Washing Dishes By Susan Meyers She rarely made us do it— we’d clear the table instead—so my sister and I teased that some day we’d train our children right and not end up like her, after every meal stuck…
Never Shall I Forget
Never Shall I Forget By Elie Wiesel Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, which has turned my life into one long night, seven times cursed and seven times sealed. Never shall I forget that smoke.…
In Medias Res
In Medias Res By William Stafford On Main one night when they sounded the chimes my father was ahead in shadows, my son behind coming into the streetlight, on each side a brother and a sister; and overhead the chimes…
In Exile
In Exile By Emma Lazarus “Since that day till now our life is one unbroken paradise. We live a true brotherly life. Every evening after supper we take a seat under the mighty oak and sing our songs.” —Extract from…
I Higaonon
I Higaonon By Telesfore Sungki Jr. I you called pagan, you say pagan is bad people. You say you is Christian and Christian is good people. You laugh I kneel on big rock or I pray before big tree. You…
I Do Not Love Thee
I Do Not Love Thee By Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton I do not love thee!—no! I do not love thee! And yet when thou art absent I am sad; And envy even the bright blue sky above thee, Whose quiet…
Gentling A Wildcat
Gentling A Wildcat By Douglas Livingstone Not much wild life, roared Mine leonine Host from the fringe of a forest of crackles round an old dome-headed steam radio, between hotel and river – a mile of bush – except for…
Futility
Futility By Wilfred Owen Move him into the sun— Gently its touch awoke him once, At home, whispering of fields half-sown. Always it woke him, even in France, Until this morning and this snow. If anything might rouse him now…
Ellis Island
Ellis Island By Joyce Hemsley In days of long ago, how did Europeans enter America? I read the history and now I know. They arrived at Ellis Island at the mouth of the Hudson River often on a sunny day, but…
The Mountain Graveyard
The Mountain Graveyard By John H. Bryant I know a hill with a breast of flowers Where the swallows play in the summer hours, Where the grasshopper chirps and the wild bee hums, And the low of the kine on…
Old Man Travelling
Old Man Travelling By William Wordsworth He little hedge-row birds, That peck along the road, regard him not. He travels on, and in his face, his step, His gait, is one expression; every limb, His look and bending figure, all…
On His Blindness
On His Blindness By John Milton When I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, And that one talent which is death to hide Lodg’d with me useless, though my soul…