By William Shakespeare
Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves;
And ye that on the sands with printless foot
Do…
And ye that on the sands with printless foot
Do…
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Showing 1-20 of 1,966 poems
- By Robert Browning1.My first thought was, he lied in every word,
That hoary cripple, with malicious eye
Askance to watch… - Translated By Daniel OwenWORKSHOP 5: MY CAPTIVE
its voice’s echo comes back to make a sound wall
of its voice
standing in a circle
in front of a globe full of time traps
fingers that clutch a rat - WORKSHOP 5: TAWANAN AKU
gema suaranya kembali lagi membuat dinding bunyi
dari suaranya
berdiri melingkar
di depan bulatan penuh perangkap waktu
jari-jari yang menggenggam tikus - By Ama CodjoeWhat if, Betye, instead of a rifle or hand
grenade—I mean, what if after
the loaded gun that takes two hands
to fire, I lay down the splintered broom
and the steel so cold it wets
my cheek? What if I unclench the valleys
of my... - By Sasha DugdaleThe downs are certainly lovely, although by mortal loveliness
did you mean they would disappear one day… - By Martha SilanoBecause why not? Why not take the smashed pinecone
of my life, render it in purple? Why not dream of… - By Megan DentonWhich way to the monster cage? I am in my god body now—
in my sandy foxhole
sat backwards in a chair… - By Alice OswaldIt's a rush, a sploosh of sewage, twenty thousand cubic metres being pumped in, stirred and settled …
- By Mag GabbertThe effect—for those three hundred years, while the cupid remained hidden—was a kind of silence.
Like… - By Noelani PitersI
remember I exist
at the braiding of
consciousand con
sumer,Kanaka
and culpable,
desire anddesired… - By Charles ReznikoffIn a world where each man must be of use
and each thing useful, the rebellious Jews
light not one light… - By Russell AtkinsOh didn’t it """ """ """
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Oh did
""" """ n’t… - By William Butler YeatsI
What shall I do with this absurdity —
O heart, O troubled heart — this caricature,
Decrepit age that... - By William Butler YeatsI have heard that hysterical women say
They are sick of the palette and fiddle-bow,
Of poets that are always gay,
For everybody knows or else should know
That if nothing drastic is done
Aeroplane and Zeppelin will come out,
Pitch like King Billy bomb-balls in
Until... - By Yasmine AmeliNanny’s husband is dead, and her six children are growing. Every morning, she readjusts her one fake…
- By Yasmine AmeliSa’id goes missing. Forty years later, my mama tells me his poems got into the wrong hands. It is the…
- By Yasmine AmeliIn another story, my baba bozorg paints flowers. He is little. His name Amir means shah, but the shah…
