If the Edge Again Bitterness Is Sweet if Missed the Hidden Love in the Hearts of
Junior Poem Anthology
Record hiss, Value Village, vibraphones. On stock-still-gears scrubbed with salt and lemon, like the hugger-mugger at the centre of a Magic Heart the witches, genderless as low-cal, exhale green and lavender, appear and disappear, chanting your passwords in a circular. Voices like dimes dropped in a bowl, blush ultraviolet, glittering auras. Peel so soft they move through walls they printing against your window,... Trust Fund Witches
Nobody in the lane, and nothing, null only blackberries, Blackberries on either side, though on the right mainly, A blackberry alley, going down in hooks, and a sea Somewhere at the stop of information technology, heaving. Blackberries Big every bit the brawl of my thumb, and dumb as optics Ebon in the hedges, fat With blue-red juices. These they squander on my... Blackberrying
Gotta love u.s.a. dark-brown girls, munching on fatty, swinging blue hips, decked out in shells and splashes, Lawdie, bringing them woo hips. As the jukebox teases, picket my sistas pharynx the heartbreak, inhaling bassline, nifty backbone and singing thru hips. Like something boneless, we glide silent, seeping 'tween floorboards, ... Hip-Hop Ghazal
Beloved Regret, my leaning this forenoon, my leather foot, desire of stone, age old, my glassy and bruised, hair lingering, hand caked, spongy every bit November, my dear Relentless, my dear Aging, ... Five Postcards from Jericho
Sure, there'south a spell the leaves can make, shuddering, and in their lying suddenly still again — flat, and still, like fourth dimension itself when it seems unexpectedly more bachelor, more to lose therefore, more to love, or endeavor to... Merely to look up from the leaves, remember, is a selection also, every bit if up from the shame of it... My Meadow, My Twilight
oh papa, to have you drift upward, some role of yous drift up through water through fresh h2o into the teal plate of sky soaking foothills, papa, to have your breath exit, escape you lot, escape the weight of os, muscle and organ, escape you lot, to rise upwards, to loft, till yous are all breath filling the room, rising, escaping the white... Let the Ponies Out
Here at Woodlands, Moriah, these thirty-five years after, nevertheless I could smell her fear. And then, the huddled hills would not have calmed her, now as they do me. Then, the view did not snatch the panting jiff, now, as it does these thirty-five years later on, to the day, I relive the journey of my salmon female parent. ... Salmon Courage
This city is dazzler unbreakable and amorous as eyelids, in the streets, pressed with vehement departures, submerged landings, I am innocent as thresholds and smashed night birds, lovesick, as empty elevators permit me declare doorways, corners, pursuit, allow me say standing hither in eyelashes, in ... From thirsty
Earth has non annihilation to show more fair: Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty: This Metropolis now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, blank, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples prevarication Open unto the fields, and to the heaven; All vivid and glittering in the smokeless... Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802
A noiseless patient spider, I mark'd where on a niggling promontory it stood isolated, Mark'd how to explore the vacant vast surrounding, It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself, Ever unreeling them, ever tirelessly speeding them. And you lot O my soul where you stand up, Surrounded, discrete, in measureless oceans... A Noiseless Patient Spider
Interruption, pause, break, On thy cold gray stones, O Ocean! And I would that my tongue could utter The thoughts that ascend in me. O, well for the fisherman's boy, That he shouts with his sis at play! O, well for the crewman lad, That he sings... Break, Break, Suspension
Living, I had no might To brand you hear, Now, in the inmost night, I am and so most No whisper, falling light, Divides u.s., beloved. Living, I had no claim On your not bad hours. At present the thin candle-flame, The closing flowers, Wed summer with my name, — And these are... The Wife
When, in disgrace with fortune and men'south eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast land, And trouble deaf sky with my bootless cries, And look upon myself and expletive my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featured similar him, similar him with friends possessed, Desiring this human being's art and that man'south telescopic, With what I nearly... Sonnet XXIX: When, in disgrace with fortune and men's optics
An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying Male monarch; Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow Through public scorn, — mud from a muddied spring; Rulers who neither come across nor experience nor know, But leechlike to their fainting state cling Till they driblet, bullheaded in blood, without a blow. A people starved and stabbed in th' untilled field; ... England in 1819
Come from the fields male parent, here's a letter of the alphabet from our Pete, And come to the front end door mother, here's a letter of the alphabet from thy dear son. Lo, 'tis autumn, Lo, where the copse, deeper green, yellower and redder, Cool and sweeten Ohio's villages with leaves fluttering in the moderate wind, Where apples ripe in the orchards hang and... Come Up From the Fields Father
The tide rises, the tide falls, The twilight darkens, the curlew calls; Along the bounding main-sands damp and brown The traveller hastens toward the boondocks, And the tide rises, the tide falls. Darkness settles on roofs and walls, But the body of water, the sea in the darkness calls; The little waves, with their soft, white... The Tide Rises, the Tide Falls
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... Experience
Could our starting time begetter, at his toilsome plow, Thorns in his path, and labor on his brow, Clothed but in a rude, unpolished pare, Could he a vain fantastic nymph have seen, In all her airs, in all her caper graces, Her various fashions, and more various faces; How had it posed that skill, which late assigned Simply appellations to... Adam Posed
Expiry, be non proud, though some have chosen thee Mighty and dreadful, for g fine art not so; For those whom thousand think'st thou dost overthrow Die non, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and slumber, which but thy pictures exist, Much pleasure; then from thee much more than must flow, And soonest our best men with thee do get, ... Holy Sonnets: Death, exist not proud
Requite all to love; Obey thy centre; Friends, kindred, days, Estate, good-fame, Plans, credit and the Muse, — Nothing refuse. 'T is a dauntless master; Allow it have telescopic: Follow it utterly, Promise across hope: High and more high It dives into noon, With wing unspent, ... Give All to Love
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 forest, 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 close out, the housemates sit ... The Snow-Storm
Source: https://www.poetryinvoice.com/poems/junior
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