Heaven (Rupert Brooke Poem)
Fish (fly-replete, in depth of June, Dawdling away their wat'ry noon) Ponder deep wisdom, dark or clear, Each secret fishy ...
Poems about fish (51 Poems)
Old well (Yosa Buson Poem)
Old well, a fish leaps-- dark sound. (Yosa Buson)
Dawn (Yosa Buson Poem)
Dawn-- fish the cormorants haven't caught swimming in the shallows. (Yosa Buson)
Another (II) (Anne Bradstreet Poem)
As loving hind that (hartless) wants her deer, Scuds through the woods and fern with hark'ning ear, Perplext, in every ...
Contemplations (Anne Bradstreet Poem)
1 Sometime now past in the Autumnal Tide, 2 When Ph{oe}bus wanted but one hour to bed, 3 The trees ...
Dinner in a Quick Lunch Room (Stephen Vincent Benet Poem)
Soup should be heralded with a mellow horn, Blowing clear notes of gold against the stars; Strange entrees with a ...
Part 6 of Trout Fishing in America (Richard Brautigan Poem)
THE HUNCHBACK TROUT The creek was made narrow by little green trees that grew too close together. The creek was ...
Part 7 of Trout Fishing in America (Richard Brautigan Poem)
THE PUDDING MASTER OF STANLEY BASIN Tree, snow and rock beginnings, the mountain in back of the lake promised us ...
Part 8 of Trout Fishing in America (Richard Brautigan Poem)
A RETURN TO THE COVER OF THIS BOOK Dear Trout Fishing in America: I met your friend Fritz in Washington ...
Part 9 of Trout Fishing in America (Richard Brautigan Poem)
SANDBOX MINUS JOHN DILLINGER EQUALS WHAT? Often I return to the cover of Trout Fishing in America. I took the ...
Part 10 of Trout Fishing in America (Richard Brautigan Poem)
WITNESS FOR TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA PEACE In San Francisco around Easter time last year, they had a trout fishing ...
Part 2 of Trout Fishing in America (Richard Brautigan Poem)
ANOTHER METHOD OF MAKING WALNUT CATSUP And this is a very small cookbook for Trout Fishing in America as if ...
Part 3 of Trout Fishing in America (Richard Brautigan Poem)
SEA, SEA RIDER The man who owned the bookstore was not magic. He was not a three-legged crow on the ...
Part 5 of Trout Fishing in America (Richard Brautigan Poem)
WORSEWICK Worsewick Hot Springs was nothing fancy. Somebody put some boards across the creek. That was it. The boards dammed ...
December 30 (Richard Brautigan Poem)
At 1:30 in the morning a fart smells like a marriage between an avocado and a fish head. I have ...
Gee, You’re So Beautiful That It’s Starting To Rain (Richard Brautigan Poems)
Oh, Marcia, I want your long blonde beauty to be taught in high school, so kids will learn that God ...
What fish feel (Matsuo Basho Poem)
What fish feel, birds feel, I don't know-- the year ending. (Matsuo Basho)
The Whale (Hilaire Belloc Poem)
The Whale that wanders round the Pole Is not a table fish. You cannot bake or boil him whole Nor ...
The Vision of Judgment (Lord Byron Poem)
BY QUEVEDO REDIVIVUS SUGGESTED BY THE COMPOSITION SO ENTITLED BY THE AUTHOR OF 'WAT TYLER' 'A Daniel come to judgment! ...
The Prisoner of Chillon (Lord Byron Poem)
I My hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have ...
Dream Song 47: April Fool’s Day, or, St Mary of Egypt (John Berryman Poems)
â?"Thass a funny title, Mr Bones. â?"When down she saw her feet, sweet fish, on the threshold, she considered her ...
Cleon (Robert Browning Poem)
"As certain also of your own poets have said"-- (Acts 17.28) Cleon the poet (from the sprinkled isles, Lily on ...
Caliban upon Setebos or, Natural Theology in the Island (Robert Browning Poem)
"Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such a one as thyself." (David, Psalms 50.21) ['Will sprawl, now that the heat ...
Waring (Robert Browning Poem)
I What's become of Waring Since he gave us all the slip, Chose land-travel or seafaring, Boots and chest, or ...
Strayed Crab (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
This is not my home. How did I get so far from water? It must be over that way somewhere. ...
Seascape (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
This celestial seascape, with white herons got up as angels, flying high as they want and as far as they ...
Song For The Rainy Season (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Hidden, oh hidden in the high fog the house we live in, beneath the magnetic rock, rain-, rainbow-ridden, where blood-black ...
At The Fishhouses (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Although it is a cold evening, down by one of the fishhouses an old man sits netting, his net, in ...
The Map (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
Land lies in water; it is shadowed green. Shadows, or are they shallows, at its edges showing the line of ...
The Moose (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
From narrow provinces of fish and bread and tea, home of the long tides where the bay leaves the sea ...