By Ted Hughes
I climbed through woods in the hour-before-dawn dark. Evil air, a frost-making stillness, Not a leaf...
Explore Poems: Consonance
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- By Gwendolyn BrooksWe real cool. We Left school. We Lurk late. We Strike straight. We Sing sin. We Thin gin. We Jazz June...
- By Wilfred OwenIt seemed that out of battle I escaped Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped Through granites...
- By Robert PinskyFelicity the healer isn’t young And you don’t look him up unless you need him. Clown’s eyes, Pope’s ...
- By Deborah Paredezi. here: our forsaken home mesa breaks desert dialing curve of mountain territory of anthropology of...
- By Robert Southey"How does the water Come down at Lodore?" My little boy asked me Thus, once on a time; And moreover ...
- By Marie PonsotThe big doll being broken and the sawdust fall all scattered by my shoes, not crying I sit in my dark...
- By Wilfred OwenSit on the bed; I'm blind, and three parts shell. Be careful; can't shake hands now; never shall. Both...
- By Wilfred OwenLet the boy try along this bayonet-blade How cold steel is, and keen with hunger of blood; Blue with...
- By Kevin YoungCrashing again—Basquiat sends fenders & letters headlong into each other the future. Fusion. AAAAAAAAAAA...
- By Bernadette MayerUse a new conductor every time-out you have sextet—before foreshore, before pen name gets anywhere near...
- By Stanley PlumlyMyths of the landscape— the sun going down in the mouths of the furnaces, the fires banked and cooling...
- By Stanley PlumlyLike the waxwings in the juniper, a dozen at a time, divided, paired, passing the berries back and forth...
- By William BlakeLittle Lamb who made thee Dost thou know who made thee Gave thee life & bid thee feed. By the stream...
- By William BlakeNever seek to tell thy love Love that never told can be For the gentle wind does move Silently invisibly...
- By William BlakeI saw a chapel all of gold That none did dare to enter in And many weeping stood without Weeping mourning...
- By Isaac RosenbergMoses, from whose loins I sprung, Lit by a lamp in his blood Ten immutable rules, a moon For mutable...
- By Robert BrowningI The grey sea and the long black land; And the yellow half-moon large and low; And the startled little...
- By Richard AldingtonPótuia, pótuia White grave goddess, Pity my sadness, O silence of Paros. I am not of these about thy...
- By W. D. SnodgrassI What’s unseen may not exist— Or so those secret powers insist That prowl past nightfall, Enabled by...