Night Poems | Poemist

Popular Night Poems

Boots

by Rudyard Kipling

INFANTRY COLUMNS

We're foot--slog--slog--slog--sloggin' over Africa --
Foot--foot--foot--foot--sloggin' over Africa --
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)
There's no discharge in the war!

Seven--six--eleven--five--nine-an'-tw enty mile to-day --
Four--eleven--seventeen--thirty-two the day before --
(Boots--boots--boots--boots--movin' up an' down again!)

......

Saturday At The Canal

by Gary Soto

I was hoping to be happy by seventeen.
School was a sharp check mark in the roll book,
An obnoxious tuba playing at noon because our team
Was going to win at night. The teachers were
Too close to dying to understand. The hallways
Stank of poor grades and unwashed hair. Thus,
A friend and I sat watching the water on Saturday,
Neither of us talking much, just warming ourselves
By hurling large rocks at the dusty ground
And feeling awful because San Francisco was a postcard

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A White Christmas

by Carla Jean Laglia Esely

'Twas the night before christmas.
With a blanket of white.
That covered the earth all through the night.
The trees sparkled like diamonds.
With a glitter so bright.
That each little twinkle made its own christmas light.
A hope and a prayer a white christmas would be.
Awaiting the dawn so all could see.
The beauty and joy a white christmas does bring.
To the holiday season as carolers sing.

......

Exposure

by Wilfred Owen

I

1 Our brains ache, in the merciless iced east winds that knife us ...
2 Wearied we keep awake because the night is silent ...
3 Low drooping flares confuse our memory of the salient ...
4 Worried by silence, sentries whisper, curious, nervous,
5 But nothing happens.

6 Watching, we hear the mad gusts tugging on the wire.
7 Like twitching agonies of men among its brambles.

......

Duino Elegies: The First Elegy

by Rainer Maria Rilke

Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly
pressed me against his heart, I would perish
in the embrace of his stronger existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror
which we are barely able to endure and are awed
because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Each single angel is terrifying.
And so I force myself, swallow and hold back
the surging call of my dark sobbing.

......

Recent Night Poems

Stardust Lily

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

evergreen evening
silver stars sparkle softly
once gold fades away

lily of stardust
in magic of summer night
glows in pink and white

stardust lily scent
roams upon a happy breeze

......

Behind the Dawn

by Ayatullah Nurjati

Behind the gentle tinge of dawn.
Pulling back the curtain of the receding night.
Clear light sweeps away the darkness, bringing peace to a sinking heart.
The wind whispers in a slow rhythm, bringing messages from a calm universe.

Nature speaks in silence, teaches a heart that is bound by worldly noise.
the dawn that comes every day, bringing hope in holy robes.
Teach us, as you teach nature, to live peacefully without resentment.
Under the shade of your simple light, I gained the true meaning of life.
That everything that comes will go, but love for nature remains eternal.

......

Impressions

by Nkwachukwu Ogbuagu

Night,
and every pulse held in-between hands!

Darkness and shades crisscross the world,
bracing the perfervidity among us
rural men, to witness the coming of Night.

O stars! The nebulae, the nacre-patterns of
the naked, naïve universe — Studded Witnesses —
listen:

......

Yayu's AI Winter Moon

by Yayu Uppsurya

In winter's shroud, the moon arises, a sage,
Clad in robes of frost, her visage grave and pale.
She wanders 'mongst the sleeping, barren age,
A silent sentry in the velvet veil.

Her gaze, a shepherd's crook, guides weary souls,
Through nights of ice and desolation's hold.
Beneath her lantern, fields of snow unroll,
Where silence whispers tales of ancient scrolls.

......

Joanie Come Early

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

Everyone called Joanna Wilde, Joanie, like an abbreviated crescent moon,
Of which she was much enamored, with its silky, maroon darkness tunes.

Pert Joanie was a young night owl, loving lone whip-poor-wills, singing,
And bewitching midnight stars of glitter, and a calm silence, for thinking.

Joanie was a successful librarian, and always dreamed of advancement;
And having the morning shift, she worked hard for career enhancement.

On weekends, Joanie and fatigued friends, had fun days in fresh flowers,

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