Poems List
Explore poems from our collection
It Might Have Been
"It Might Have Been"
We will be what we could be. Do not say,
"It might have been, had not this, or that, or this."
No fate can keep us from the chosen w…
A Baby In The House
A Baby In The House
I knew that a baby was hid in that house,
Though I saw no cradle and heard no cry;
But the husband was tip-toeing 'round like a mouse…
Visits to St Elizabeths
Visits to St Elizabeths
This is the house of Bedlam.
This is the man
that lies in the house of Bedlam.
This is the time
Trouvée
Trouvée
Oh, why should a hen
have been run over
on West 4th Street
in the middle of summer?
She was a white hen
--red…
The Shampoo
The Shampoo
The still explosions on the rocks,
the lichens, grow
by spreading, gray, concentric shocks.
They have arranged
to meet the rings …
The Weed
The Weed
I dreamed that dead, and meditating,
I lay upon a grave, or bed,
(at least, some cold and close-built bower).
In the cold heart, its final…
The Man-moth
The Man-moth
Here, above,
cracks in the buldings are filled with battered moonlight.
The whole shadow of Man is only as big as his hat.
It lies at …
The Monument
The Monument
Now can you see the monument? It is of wood
built somewhat like a box. No. Built
like several boxes in descending sizes
one above the …
The Fish
The Fish
I caught a tremendous fish
and held him beside the boat
half out of water, with my hook
fast in a corner of his mouth.
He didn't fig…
The Colder The Air
The Colder The Air
We must admire her perfect aim,
this huntress of the winter air
whose level weapon needs no sight,
if it were not that everywher…
The Bight
The Bight
At low tide like this how sheer the water is.
White, crumbling ribs of marl protrude and glare
and the boats are dry, the pilings dry as matche…
Suicide of a Moderate Dictator
Suicide of a Moderate Dictator
This is a day when truths will out, perhaps;
leak from the dangling telephone earphones
sapping the festooned switchboards…
Squatter's Children
Squatter's Children
On the unbreathing sides of hills
they play, a specklike girl and boy,
alone, but near a specklike house.
The Sun's suspended e…
Sonnet (1928)
Sonnet (1928)
I am in need of music that would flow
Over my fretful, feeling finger-tips,
Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,
With melody, deep…
Songs for a Colored Singer
Songs for a Colored Singer
I
A washing hangs upon the line,
but it's not mine.
None of the things that I can see
belong to me.
Sleeping on the Ceiling
Sleeping on the Ceiling
It is so peaceful on the ceiling!
It is the Place de la Concorde.
The little crystal chandelier
is off, the fountain is in …
Questions of Travel
Questions of Travel
There are too many waterfalls here; the crowded streams
hurry too rapidly down to the sea,
and the pressure of so many clouds on the …
Roosters
Roosters
At four o'clock
in the gun-metal blue dark
we hear the first crow of the first cock
just below
the gun-metal blue …
North Haven
North Haven
In Memoriam: Robert Lowell
I can make out the rigging of a schooner
a mile off; I can count
the new cones on the spruce. …
One Art
One Art
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,
L…
Manners
Manners
For a Child of 1918
My grandfather said to me
as we sat on the wagon seat,
"Be sure to remember to always
speak to …
Lines Written In The Fannie Farmer Cookbook
Lines Written In The Fannie Farmer Cookbook
[Given to Frank Bidart]
You won't become a gourmet* cook
By studying our Fannie's book--
Her…
Insomnia
Insomnia
The moon in the bureau mirror
looks out a million miles
(and perhaps with pride, at herself,
but she never, never smiles)
far …
Large Bad Picture
Large Bad Picture
Remembering the Strait of Belle Isle or
some northerly harbor of Labrador,
before he became a schoolteacher
a great-uncle painted…