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The Snow Storm by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky, Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields, Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven, And veils the farm-house at the garden’s end. The sled and traveller stopped, the courier’s feet Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed In a […]
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Days by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days, Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes, And marching single in an endless file, Bring diadems and fagots in their hands. To each they offer gifts after his will, Bread, kingdoms, stars, or sky that holds them all. I, in my pleached garden, watched the pomp, Forgot my morning wishes, […]
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Each and All by Ralph Waldo Emerson
Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown, Of thee from the hill-top looking down; The heifer that lows in the upland farm, Far-heard, lows not thine ear to charm; The sexton, tolling his bell at noon, Deems not that great Napoleon Stops his horse, and lists with delight, Whilst his files sweep round yon […]
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Experience by Ralph Waldo Emerson
The lords of life, the lords of life,I saw them pass, In their own guise, Like and unlike, Portly and grim,Use and Surprise, Surface and Dream, Succession swift and spectral Wrong, Temperament without a tongue, And the inventor of the game Omnipresent without name;Some to see, some to be guessed, They marched from east to […]
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Brahma by Ralph Waldo Emerson
If the red slayer think he slays, Or if the slain think he is slain, They know not well the subtle ways I keep, and pass, and turn again. Far or forgot to me is near; Shadow and sunlight are the same; The vanished gods to me appear; And one to me are shame and fame. They reckon ill who leave […]
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Blind Curse by Simon Ortiz J.
You could drive blindfor those two secondsand they would be forever.I think that as a diesel truckpasses us eight miles east of Mission.Churning through the storm, heedlessof the hill sliding away.There isn’t much use to curse but I do.Words fly away, tumbling invisiblytoward the unseen point wherethe prairie and sky meet.The road is like that […]
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Journey to the Place of Ghosts
BY JAY WRIGHT Vault over, world:when the seashell of death washes upthere will be a knelling. —Paul Celan, Stimmen (Voices) Death knocks all night at my door.The soul answers,and runs from the water in my throat.Water will sustain me when I climb the steep hillthat leads to a now familiar place.I began, even as a child, to learn […]
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Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird BY WALLACE STEVENS
1Among twenty snowy mountains, The only moving thing Was the eye of the blackbird. 2I was of three minds, Like a tree In which there are three blackbirds. 3The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds. It was a small part of the pantomime. 4A man and a woman Are one. A man and a woman […]
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Daddy by Sylvia Plath
You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoeIn which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy, I have had to kill you. You died before I had time——Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, Ghastly statue with one gray toe Big as a Frisco seal And […]
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One Art by Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn’t hard to master;so many things seem filled with the intentto be lost that their loss is no disaster. Lose something every day. Accept the flusterof lost door keys, the hour badly spent.The art of losing isn’t hard to master. Then practice losing farther, losing faster:places, and names, and where it […]
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We Real Cool by Gwendolyn Brooks
THE POOL PLAYERS. SEVEN AT THE GOLDEN SHOVEL. We real cool. WeLeft school. We Lurk late. WeStrike straight. We Sing sin. WeThin gin. We Jazz June. WeDie soon.
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The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams
So much dependsupon a red wheelbarrow glazed with rainwater beside the whitechickens
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I Saw in Louisiana A Live-Oak Growing BY WALT WHITMAN
I saw in Louisiana a live-oak growing, All alone stood it and the moss hung down from the branches, Without any companion it grew there uttering joyous leaves of dark green, And its look, rude, unbending, lusty, made me think of myself, But I wonder’d how it could utter joyous leaves standing alone there without […]
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To SMA Young African Painter: On Seeing his Work by Phillis Wheatley
TO show the lab’ring bosom’s deep intent,And thought in living characters to paint,When first thy pencil did those beauties give,And breathing figures learnt from thee to live,How did those prospects give my soul delight,A new creation rushing on my sight?Still, wond’rous youth! each noble path pursue,On deathless glories fix thine ardent view:Still may the painter’s […]
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On Being Brought From Africa to America by Phillis Wheatley
Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land,Taught my benighted soul to understandThat there’s a God, that there’s a Saviour too:Once I redemption neither sought nor knew.Some view our sable race with scornful eye,“Their colour is a diabolic die.”Remember, Christians, Negros, black as Cain,May be refin’d, and join th’ angelic train.
POETISHES 