A little while, a little while (Emily Bronte Poem)
A little while, a little while, The weary task is put away, And I can sing and I can smile, ...
Poems about sitting (51 Poems)
The Charm Of 5:30 (David Berman Poem)
It's too nice a day to read a novel set in England. We're within inches of the perfect distance from ...
Self-Portrait At 28 (David Berman Poem)
I know it's a bad title but I'm giving it to myself as a gift on a day nearly canceled ...
Home (Rupert Brooke Poem)
I came back late and tired last night Into my little room, To the long chair and the firelight And ...
Young Blood (Stephen Vincent Benet Poem)
"But, sir," I said, "they tell me the man is like to die!" The Canon shook his head indulgently. "Young ...
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 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 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 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 ...
Dream Song 118: He wondered: Do I love? all this applause (John Berryman Poem)
He wondered: Do I love? all this applause, young beauties sitting at my feet & all, and all. It tires ...
Dream Song 41: If we sang in the wood (and Death is a German expert) (John Berryman Poem)
If we sang in the wood (and Death is a German expert) while snows flies, chill, after so frequent knew ...
Dream Song 4: Filling her compact & delicious body (John Berryman Poem)
Filling her compact & delicious body with chicken páprika, she glanced at me twice. Fainting with interest, I hungered back ...
In A Year (Robert Browning Poem)
Never any more, While I live, Need I hope to see his face As before. Once his love grown chill, ...
Fra Lippo Lippi (Robert Browning Poem)
I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave! You need not clap your torches to my face. Zooks, what's to ...
Shoes (Charles Bukowski Poem)
when you're young a pair of female high-heeled shoes just sitting alone in the closet can fire your bones; when ...
Young In New Orleans (Charles Bukowski Poem)
starving there, sitting around the bars, and at night walking the streets for hours, the moonlight always seemed fake to ...
A Man (Charles Bukowski Poem)
George was lying in his trailer, flat on his back, watching a small portable T.V. His dinner dishes were undone, ...
The Most Beautiful Woman In Town (Charles Bukowski Poem)
Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of 5 sisters. Cass was the most beautiful girl in town. 1/2 Indian ...
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. ...
Questions of Travel (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
There are too many waterfalls here; the crowded streams hurry too rapidly down to the sea, and the pressure of ...
Breaking and Entering (Ralph Angel Poem)
Many setups. At least as many falls. Winter is paralyzing the country, but not here. Here, the boys are impersonating ...
The House Of Dust: Part 04: 06: Cinema (Conrad Aiken Poem)
As evening falls, The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving, ...
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 07: Porcelain (Conrad Aiken Poem)
You see that porcelain ranged there in the window- Platters and soup-plates done with pale pink rosebuds, And tiny violets, ...
The House Of Dust: Part 03: 10: Letter (Conrad Aiken Poem)
From time to time, lifting his eyes, he sees The soft blue starlight through the one small window, The moon ...
The House Of Dust: Part 02: 06: Adele And Davis (Conrad Aiken Poem)
She turned her head on the pillow, and cried once more. And drawing a shaken breath, and closing her eyes, ...
Senlin: His Futile Preoccupations (Conrad Aiken Poem)
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
Senlin: His Dark Origins (Conrad Aiken Poem)
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...