Section: «Poems»

Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings: artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.); a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").

A Sunset Of The City

Already I am no longer looked at with lechery or love.My daughters and sons have put me away with marbles and dolls,Are gone from the house.My..

© Gwendolyn Brooks

My Dreams, My Works, Must Wait Till After Hell

I hold my honey and I store my breadIn little jars and cabinets of my will.I label clearly, and each latch and lidI bid, Be firm till I return from..

© Gwendolyn Brooks

Speech To The Young : Speech To The Progress-Toward

Say to them,say to the down-keepers,the sun-slappers,the self-soilers,the harmony-hushers,"even if you are not ready for dayit cannot always be..

© Gwendolyn Brooks

Sadie And Maud

Maud went to college.Sadie stayed home.Sadie scraped lifeWith a fine toothed comb.She didn't leave a tangle inHer comb found every strand.Sadie was..

© Gwendolyn Brooks

The Crazy Woman

I shall not sing a May song.A May song should be gay.I'll wait until NovemberAnd sing a song of gray.I'll wait until NovemberThat is the time for..

© Gwendolyn Brooks

To Be In Love

To be in loveIs to touch with a lighter hand.In yourself you stretch, you are well.You look at thingsThrough his eyes.A cardinal is red.A sky is..

© Gwendolyn Brooks

The Mother

Abortions will not let you forget.You remember the children you got that you did not get,The damp small pulps with a little or with no hair,The..

© Gwendolyn Brooks

We Real Cool

The Pool Players.Seven at the Golden Shovel.We real cool. WeLeft school. WeLurk late. WeStrike straight. WeSing sin. WeThin gin. WeJazz June. WeDie..

© Gwendolyn Brooks

At Sea

It is not through weeping,but all evening the pale blue eyeon your most photogenic side has keptits own unfathomable tide. Like the boyat the dyke I..

© Simon Armitage

Cataract Operation

The sun comes like a headthrough last night's turtleneck.A pigeon in the yard turns tailand offers me a card. Any card.From pillar to post, a..

© Simon Armitage

The Jay

I was pegging out your lime-green dress;you were hoping the last of the sunmight sip the last few beads of drip-dry waterfrom its lime-green hem.I..

© Simon Armitage

The Tyre

Just how it came to rest where it rested,miles out, miles from the last farmhouse even,was a fair question. Dropped by hurricaneor aeroplane perhaps..

© Simon Armitage

The Hard

Here on the Hard, you're welcome to pull up and stay;there's a flat fee of a quid for parking all day.And wandering over the dunes, who wouldn't..

© Simon Armitage

The Golden Toddy

We hunted, swept the planet pole to poleto capture a glimpse of that rare species.Through a thermal lens we spotted a shoal,picked up the trail of..

© Simon Armitage

It Ain't What You Do, It's What It Does To You

I have not bummed across Americawith only a dollar to spare, one pairof busted Levi's and a bowie knife.I have lived with thieves in Manchester.I..

© Simon Armitage

About His Person

Five pounds fifty in change, exactly,a library card on its date of expiry.A postcard stamped,unwritten, but franked,a pocket size diary slashed with..

© Simon Armitage

Poem

And if it snowed and snow covered the drivehe took a spade and tossed it to one side.And always tucked his daughter up at nightAnd slippered her the..

© Simon Armitage

I Say I Say I Say

Anyone here had a go at themselvesfor a laugh? Anyone opened their wristswith a blade in the bath? Those in the darkat the back, listen hard. Those..

© Simon Armitage

I Am Very Bothered

I am very bothered when I thinkof the bad things I have done in my life.Not least that time in the chemistry labwhen I held a pair of scissors by the..

© Simon Armitage

Understanding

When I was young and frivolous and never stopped to think,When I was always doing wrong, or just upon the brink;When I was just a lad of seven and..

© Edgar Albert Guest

The Price Of Joy

You don't begrudge the labor when the roses start to bloom;You don't recall the dreary days that won you their perfume;You don't recall a single..

© Edgar Albert Guest

The Happiest Days

You do not know it, little man,In your summer coat of tanAnd your legs bereft of hoseAnd your peeling, sunburned nose,With a stone bruise on your..

© Edgar Albert Guest

When Pa Counts

Pa's not so very big or brave; he can't lift weights like Uncle Jim;His hands are soft like little girls'; most anyone could wallop him.Ma weighs a..

© Edgar Albert Guest

The Mother's Question

When I was a boy, and it chanced to rain,Mother would always watch for me;She used to stand by the window pane,Worried and troubled as she could..

© Edgar Albert Guest

As It Is

I might wish the world were better,I might sit around and sighFor a water that is wetterAnd a bluer sort of sky.There are times I think the..

© Edgar Albert Guest