Poetry Poems
A Book
by Emily Dickinson
There is no frigate like a book
To take us lands away,
Nor any coursers like a page
Of prancing poetry.
This traverse may the poorest take
Without oppress of toll;
How frugal is the chariot
That bears a human soul!
My Brothers
by Robert William Service
While I make rhymes my brother John
Makes shiny shoes which dames try on,
And finding to their fit and stance
They buy and wear with elegance;
But mine is quite another tale,--
For song there is no sale.
My brother Tom a tailor shop
Is owner of, and ladies stop
To try the models he has planned,
......
A Letter To My Aunt
by Dylan Thomas
A Letter To My Aunt Discussing The Correct Approach To Modern Poetry
To you, my aunt, who would explore
The literary Chankley Bore,
The paths are hard, for you are not
A literary Hottentot
But just a kind and cultured dame
Who knows not Eliot (to her shame).
Fie on you, aunt, that you should see
No genius in David G.,
No elemental form and sound
......
poem is a verb
by Rikske Kessner
Poem Is a Verb
Strike flint to flame, let the lines take flight,
They bite at the dark, they shoulder the light;
No throne for the poem, no chair for its nerve—
It walks till it bleeds, for a poem’s a verb.
......
We Refugees
by Benjamin Zephaniah
I come from a musical place
Where they shoot me for my song
And my brother has been tortured
By my brother in my land.
I come from a beautiful place
Where they hate my shade of skin
They don't like the way I pray
And they ban free poetry.
......
poem is a verb
by Rikske Kessner
Poem Is a Verb
Strike flint to flame, let the lines take flight,
They bite at the dark, they shoulder the light;
No throne for the poem, no chair for its nerve—
It walks till it bleeds, for a poem’s a verb.
......
Dusty Poet
by Ghairo Daniels
DUSTY POET
Dust before donkey doomed
a wicked whirlwind
grains of wisdom wrinkle
sand webs
dust devitalise land
here there everywhere nowhere
in eyes, on kitchen table
parched lips unfed
......
Simply Yeats
by Ghairo Daniels
SIMPLY YEATS
My verse under Yeats’ carved door
he merrily chuckled at white
envelope, sketched butterfly
said he preferred to receive
verses this way rather
than reading them across
post-modern websites
......
ear to Endymion
by Rikske Kessner
Oh, to remember such
unspoiled kinship with the divine,
where even the wind was a companion
and silence spoke in full sentences.
Perhaps this poem isn’t just
a backward glance but a gentle invitation—
to return, not in time, but in spirit,
to that meadow of soulfulness
where love was once our native tongue.
......
quiet apologies
by Rikske Kessner
Apologia in Free Verse (After Too Much Metre)
I meant to speak plainly. To let the thought go unbuttoned,
leaned against a kitchen chair, talking about traffic
or the way light hits the linoleum.
But then—I rhymed.
By accident or reflex or loneliness.
It was you that made me do it—
......
