{"database": "data", "table": "short_poems", "is_view": true, "human_description_en": "", "rows": [["Never Shall I Forget by Elie Wiesel", "Elie Wiesel", "Never Shall I Forget' by Elie Wiesel is a harrowing passage recounting the first night he spent at Birkenau from Wiesel's famous memoir Night. In these lines, Wiesel moves away from his traditional narration style that's used throughout the rest of the book and considers how this one night of his life changed him forever. He speaks on the smoke, the stillness and quiet, and how if he lived as long as God he'd never forget what he saw and felt. ", "Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, that turned my life into one long\nnight seven times sealed.\nNever shall I forget that smoke.\nNever shall I forget the small faces of the children whose bodies I saw\ntransformed into smoke under a silent sky.\nNever shall I forget those flames that consumed my faith for ever.\nNever shall I forget the nocturnal silence that deprived me for all eternity of the\ndesire to live.\nNever shall I forget those moments that murdered my God and my soul and\nturned my dreams to ashes.\nNever shall I forget those things, even were I condemned to live\nas long as God Himself.\nNever", "https://www.hmd.org.uk/wp-content/uploads/2018/06/Never-Shall-I-Forget.pdf", 103, "A poem about a single, harrowing night of smoke and stillness that changed a person forever, leaving memories that could never be forgotten for as long as one lives."], ["Leap Before You Look by W. H. Auden", "W.H. Auden", "'Leap Before You Look' by W. H. Auden is all about taking risks in life and having an action-oriented mind. In this poem, Auden talks about how sometimes people should embrace uncertainty in life. His speaker refers to the very presence of danger in each step of life. It is crucial for his friend if he wants to do great things in his life. The way things are supposed to be done might not change, but the fear of doing something uniquely should be eliminated. People who constantly worry about the outcomes and take everything too seriously might not be able to live to the fullest. They fail to recognize the chances and restrain themselves due to their cautiousness. Furthermore, Auden comments upon society \u201cconsenting\u201d to live as mere sheep. People tend to follow the flock or the way others lead their lives. They never take a route of their own. The speaker counsels against this mindset throughout the poem.", "The sense of danger must not disappear:\nThe way is certainly both short and steep,\nHowever gradual it looks from here;\nLook if you like, but you will have to leap.\n\nTough-minded men get mushy in their sleep\nAnd break the by-laws any fool can keep;\nIt is not the convention but the fear\nThat has a tendency to disappear.\n\nThe worried efforts of the busy heap,\nThe dirt, the imprecision, and the beer\nProduce a few smart wisecracks every year;\nLaugh if you can, but you will have to leap.\n\nThe clothes that are considered right to wear\nWill not be either sensible or cheap,\nSo long as we consent to live like sheep\nAnd never mention those who disappear.\n\nMuch can be said for social savoir-faire,\nBut to rejoice when no one else is there\nIs even harder than it is to weep;\nNo one is watching, but you have to leap.\n\nA solitude ten thousand fathoms deep\nSustains the bed on which we lie, my dear:\nAlthough I love you, you will have to leap;\nOur dream of safety has to disappear.", "https://knopfdoubleday.com/2012/04/16/w-h-auden-leap-before-you-look/", 161, "\"A poem about embracing uncertainty, taking risks, and leaping into action rather than following the flock or restraining oneself through fear and cautiousness.\""], ["Love Songs In Age by Philip Larkin", "Philip Larkin", "'Love Songs in Age' is about a widow who accidentally rediscovers her old sheet music. She plays them again, and remembers the hope and promise in them of \u201cthat much-mentioned brilliance, love.\u201d When she puts them away, she cries and acknowledges their failure to fix the world, as they promised they would.", "She kept her songs, they kept so little space,\nThe covers pleased her:\nOne bleached from lying in a sunny place,\nOne marked in circles by a vase of water,\nOne mended, when a tidy fit had seized her,\nAnd coloured, by her daughter -\nSo they had waited, till, in widowhood\nShe found them, looking for something else, and stood\n\nRelearning how each frank submissive chord\nHad ushered in\nWord after sprawling hyphenated word,\nAnd the unfailing sense of being young\nSpread out like a spring-woken tree, wherein\nThat hidden freshness sung,\nThat certainty of time laid up in store\nAs when she played them first. But, even more,\n\nThe glare of that much-mentionned brilliance, love,\nBroke out, to show\nIts bright incipience sailing above,\nStill promising to solve, and satisfy,\nAnd set unchangeably in order. So\nTo pile them back, to cry,\nWas hard, without lamely admitting how\nIt had not done so then, and could not now.", "https://www.thepoetryhour.com/poems/love-songs-in-age", 136, "A poem about a widow rediscovering her old sheet music and mourning love's failure to deliver on its promise of brilliance and hope."], ["Another Valentine by Wendy Cope", "Wendy Cope", "'Another Valentine' by Wendy Cope presents the real meaning of Valentine's day and most importantly the meaning of romantic love. This poem begins with the poetic persona's ironic statement. In modern times, people are obliged to be romantic as it does not come from the heart. Hence, the poet thinks otherwise. Everyone knows the rules that can be observed throughout the world. So modern lovers \u201chave to be romantic\u201d for the sake of pedantic customs. However, the speaker or the poet's persona says her love is \u201cold and sure.\u201d It's not new or frantic. Yet the speaker still feels the same vibes that she felt during the first few days of her relationship. For this reason, she says that the emotion lying at the deepest core of the heart makes her feel romantic, not Valentine's Day.", "Today we are obliged to be romantic\nAnd think of yet another valentine.\nWe know the rules and we are both pedantic:\nToday\u2019s the day we have to be romantic.\nOur love is old and sure, not new and frantic.\nYou know I\u2019m yours and I know you are mine.\nAnd saying that has made me feel romantic,\nMy dearest love, my darling valentine.", "https://emilyspoetryblog.com/wendy-cope/poems/another-valentine/", 56, "A poem about a speaker expressing how her deep, enduring love naturally makes her feel romantic, rather than feeling obligated to do so by the customs of Valentine's Day."], ["The Love Feast by W.H. Auden", "W.H. Auden", "'The Love Feast' by W.H. Auden is a complex poem that depicts contemporary life alongside religious intention and structure. Throughout this poem Auden brings together, is a somewhat religious context, characters who interact, argue, love, and lust after one another. He creates several interesting examples of juxtaposition as his men and woman become distracted from the purpose of the feast, acts sinfully, but at the same time acknowledge God. This poem has several different interpretations, especially after getting to the final stanza and the speaker's cliffhanger ending.", "In an upper room at midnight\nSee us gathered on behalf\nOf love according to the gospel\nOf the radio-phonograph.\n\nLou is telling Anne what Molly\nSaid to Mark behind her back;\nJack likes Jill who worships George\nWho has the hots for Jack.\n\nCatechumens make their entrance;\nSteep enthusiastic eyes\nFlicker after tits and baskets;\nSomeone vomits; someone cries.\n\nWilly cannot bear his father,\nLilian is afraid of kids;\nThe Love that rules the sun and stars\nPermits what He forbids.\n\nAdrian\u2019s pleasure-loving dachshund\nIn a sinner\u2019s lap lies curled;\nDrunken absent-minded fingers\nPat a sinless world.\n\nWho is Jenny lying to\nIn her call, Collect, to Rome?\nThe Love that made her out of nothing\nTells me to go home.\n\nBut that Miss Number in the corner\nPlaying hard to get\u2026\nI am sorry I\u2019m not sorry\u2026\nMake me chaste, Lord, but not yet.", "https://thepoetryhour.com/poems/the-love-feast", 118, "\"A poem about men and women gathering at a feast, sinning and lusting after one another, while simultaneously acknowledging God and grappling with religious intention.\""], ["Only Child by D. Nurkse", "D. Nurkse", "Only Child by D. Nurkse begins by focusing on the moments after the birth of Nurkse's child, holding his Only Child after her birth. He realizes she knows nothing, having just come from the place 'where there was no world', not even knowing 'what a voice was'. He cradles her as he looks at the newborn. The second stanza moves in the child having a voice, asking Nurkse to watch her while 'cartwheel, the skip, the tumble' happen. This second stanza child is demanding, finding her voice, and asking for her father's attention. The third stanza examines a scene in which father and daughter are on a seesaw, with Nurkse writing that she 'has power' to lift him off the ground. This is a metaphor for how influential his daughter has become in his life, able to lift him and control him, despite her 'tiny weight'. The poem is a tribute to parenthood.", "1\nI cradled my newborn daughter\nand felt the heartbeat\npull me out of shock.\nShe didn\u2019t know\nwhat her hands were:\nshe folded them. I asked her\nwas there a place\nwhere there was no world.\nShe didn\u2019t know\nwhat a voice was: her lips\nwere the shape of a nipple.\n2\nIn the park the child says:\nwatch me. It will not count\nunless you see. And she shows me\nthe cartwheel, the skip, the tumble,\nthe tricks performed at leisure in midair,\neach unknown until it is finished.\nAt home she orders:\nsee me eat. I watch her\ncurl on herself, sleep;\nas I try to leave the dark room\nher dreaming voice commands me: watch.\n3\nAlways we passed the seesaw\non the way to the swings\nbut tonight I remember\nthe principle of the lever,\nI sit the child at one end,\nI sit near the center,\nthe fulcrum, at once she has power\nto lift me off the earth\nand keep me suspended\nby her tiny weight, she laughing,\nI stunned at the power of the formula.", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/39226/only-child", 147, "\"A poem about a father experiencing the transformative journey of parenthood, from cradling his newborn who knows nothing of the world, to being lifted and controlled by her tiny but powerful presence.\""], ["The Fly by Ogden Nash", "Ogden Nash", "The Fly' by Ogden Nash is a short poem in which the speaker speaks amusingly about a fly and how it is perceived by most people. The first line tells the reader, quite simply, that God made the fly in \u201chis wisdom\u201d. This sarcastic phrase is followed up by its second half in the second line. It adds that God \u201cforgot\u201d to tell humanity why he made this particularly annoying creature. Nash assumed, correctly, that the reader is going to understand the joke in these lines.", "God in his wisdom made the fly\nAnd then forgot to tell us why.", "https://www.poetrynook.com/poem/fly-0", 12, "A poem about questioning why God, in his wisdom, created the universally despised fly without bothering to explain his reasoning to humanity."], ["Blowin\u2019 in the Wind by Bob Dylan", "Bob Dylan", "Blowin' in the Wind' by Bob Dylan poses a series of questions to ironically point to humankind's passivity over the cruelties and brutal reality of the 20th century. Dylan's song describes how the things happening around the world pains a speaker deeply. This speaker belongs to the century when discrimination according to color and origin existed, basic human rights were denied, and above all the harrowing air of war was raging everywhere. In such a critical situation, a speaker asks several questions to his fellow human beings. It seems everyone knows the answer to his simple questions, yet they are ignoring reality. For example, he alludes to the World Wars in the first stanza and asks how long this problematic situation is going to exist. In the following stanzas, he taps on the issues of racism, confinement, ignorance, freedom, death, and distress.", "How many roads must a man walk down\nBefore you call him a man?\nYes, n how many seas must a white dove sail\nBefore she sleeps in the sand?\nYes, n how many times must the cannon balls fly\nBefore they're forever banned?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,\nThe answer is blowin' in the wind.\n\nHow many years can a mountain exist\nBefore its washed to the sea?\nYes, n how many years can some people exist\nBefore they're allowed to be free?\nYes, n how many times can a man turn his head,\nPretending he just doesn't see?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,\nThe answer is blowin' in the wind.\n\nHow many times must a man look up\nBefore he can see the sky?\nYes, n how many ears must one man have\nBefore he can hear people cry?\nYes, n how many deaths will it take till he knows\nThat too many people have died?\nThe answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind,\nThe answer is blowin' in the wind.", "https://www.austincc.edu/dlauderb/2341/Lyrics/Blowininthewind.htm", 158, "\"A poem about posing ironic questions to highlight humankind's passivity in the face of war, racism, denied freedoms, and human cruelty.\""], ["I Said To Love by Thomas Hardy", "Thomas Hardy", "In short form, 'I Said To Love' is a love poem by Thomas Hardy that looks at loss and a sense of regret for what he has lost (referring to his passed wife, Emma). He comes across as having a bad experience with love that has punished him with feelings of remorse and pain come across in this poem. With this pain, Hardy personified Love so that he can take out the pain on the personification of Love. \u201cLove\u201d appears to him as an unkind man who once showed him the positive sides of it. But, now as he has lost his wife, it is giving him extreme distress. He tells love to leave at once and relieve him from the pain he is suffering after the loss of his dear one.", "I said to Love,\n\"It is not now as in old days\nWhen men adored thee and thy ways\nAll else above;\nNamed thee the Boy, the Bright, the One\nWho spread a heaven beneath the sun,\"\nI said to Love.\nI said to him,\n\"We now know more of thee than then;\nWe were but weak in judgment when,\nWith hearts abrim,\nWe clamoured thee that thou would'st please\nInflict on us thine agonies,\"\nI said to him.\nI said to Love,\n\"Thou art not young, thou art not fair,\nNo faery darts, no cherub air,\nNor swan, nor dove\nAre thine; but features pitiless,\nAnd iron daggers of distress,\"\nI said to Love.\n\"Depart then, Love! . . .\n- Man's race shall end, dost threaten thou?\nThe age to come the man of now\nKnow nothing of? -\nWe fear not such a threat from thee;\nWe are too old in apathy!\nMankind shall cease.--So let it be,\"\nI said to Love.", "poemhunter.com/poem/i-said-to-love/", 136, "\"A poem about a grieving man personifying Love and demanding it leave him, as it has transformed from showing him joy to inflicting unbearable pain and remorse following the loss of his beloved.\""], ["Sonnet 31 by Sir Philip Sidney", "Philip Sidney", "Sonnet 31 Analysis With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies! How silently, and with how wan a face! What, may it be that even in heav'nly place That busy archer his sharp arrows tries! Sure, if that long-with love-acquainted eyes Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case, I read it in thy looks; thy languish'd grace To me, that feel the like, thy state descries. The octet depicts the lyrical voice's perception of the moon. The poem starts by describing how the moon rises in the sky at night. The lyrical voice personifies the moon (\u201cO Moon, thou climb'st the skies!) and projects his/ own sorrows in the moon (\u201cWith how sad steps\u201d). The lyrical voice describes the moon carefully, as an individual being: \u201cHow silently, and with how wan face!\u201d. There is a repetition of the word \u201chow\u201d in order to emphasize the lyrical voice's attention to the object that he is describing. The lyrical voice questions about the moon's sadness, and figures that it must be because of \u201cWhat, may it be that even in heav'nly place /That busy archer his sharp arrows tries\u201d (cupid). The lyrical voice's connection of his feelings to those of the moon is an example of a \u201cpathetic fallacy\u201d, where elements of nature appear to have human emotions. The lyrical voice suggests that the moon is struggling with sentimental problems, as he can see them from experiencing them himself: Sure, if that long-with love-acquainted eyes /Can judge of love, thou feel'st a lover's case\u201d. This furthers the personification and the \u201cphatetic fallacy\u201d mentioned before. The lyrical voice can \u201cread it in thy looks\u201d and the moon appears to be, again, weak (\u201cthy languish'd grace\u201d). This portrait of the moon shows the lyrical voice's assurance about the moon being lovesick. Once again, the lyrical voice compares the moon's state to his, making a direct relationship between the moon's suffering and his (\u201cTo me, that feel the like, thy state descries\u201d). Notice how the unusual syntax accentuates the words of suffering that the lyrical voice is expressing. Then, ev'n of fellowship, O Moon, tell me, Is constant love deem'd there but want of wit? Are beauties there as proud as here they be? Do they above love to be lov'd, and yet Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess? Do they call virtue there ungratefulness? The sestet presents a series of questions that are crucial to the lyrical voice. The focus of the poem shifts from the description of the moon to the lyrical voice's reflections about love. This is the typical volta, turn, that occurs in the Petrarchan sonnet. The lyrical voice asks the moon (\u201cThen, ev'n of fellowship, O Moon, tell me\u201d) whether, in the sky, love is treated as \u201cwant of wit\u201d. Moreover, he asks if women are as proud as they are on earth (\u201cAre beauties there as proud as here they be?\u201d). This series of questions project problems that the lyrical voice is dealing with. The lyrical voice in 'Sonnet 31\u2032 still has more questions. He wants to know whether the things above like to be loved. Notice the internal rhyme in the fourth line. Moreover, he wants to know if the beloved ones like the ones who are in love with them (\u201cThose lovers scorn whom that love doth possess? \u201c). Again, the lyrical voice is questioning and thinking about his own sentimental struggles and his relationship with Stella. The final line continues with the questions and the complaints that the lyrical voice has expressed in the sestet. The lyrical voice asks whether \u201cabove\u201d love is despised to (\u201cDo they call virtue there ungratefulness?\u201d). He feels that love is a virtue, but it sounds like his beloved one, Stella, doesn't feel the same way about the lyrical voice's display of virtue and constant love. The tone of the sestet shows that the lyrical voice is deeply wounded and the rhetorical questions accentuate this pain.", "With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb\u2019st the skies!\nHow silently, and with how wan a face!\nWhat, may it be that even in heavenly place\nThat busy archer his sharp arrows tries?\nSure, if that long-with-love-acquainted eyes\nCan judge of love, thou feel\u2019st a lover\u2019s case,\nI read it in thy looks; thy languished grace,\nTo me that feel the like, thy state descries.\nThen, even of fellowship, O Moon, tell me,\nIs constant love deemed there but want of wit?\nAre beauties there as proud as here they be?\nDo they above love to be loved, and yet\nThose lovers scorn whom that love doth possess?\nDo they call virtue there ungratefulness?", "https://www.cieliterature.com/sonnet-31/", 101, "\"A poem about a lovesick lyrical voice projecting his own sorrows onto the moon, questioning whether the pain and unrequited nature of love on earth is mirrored in the heavens above.\""], ["Description of Spring by Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey", "Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey", "'Description of Spring' by Henry Howard is a simple depiction of spring and how it contrasts with the speaker's emotions. In the first part of the poem, the poet outlines all the wildlife and how each living creature is reacting to spring. He uses examples of personification and anaphora to emphasize how the entire world seems to be shedding the winter and embracing spring. But, as he reveals in the concluding couplet, the season is not uplifting him in the same way. His sorrow is only growing worse because of the beauty and joy he sees around him.", "The soote season, that bud and bloom forth brings,\nWith green hath clad the hill and eke the vale:\nThe nightingale with feathers new she sings;\nThe turtle to her make hath told her tale.\nSummer is come, for every spray now springs:\nThe hart hath hung his old head on the pale;\nThe buck in brake his winter coat he flings;\nThe fishes flete with new repaired scale.\nThe adder all her slough away she slings;\nThe swift swallow pursueth the flies smale;\nThe busy bee her honey now she mings;\nWinter is worn that was the flowers' bale.\nAnd thus I see among these pleasant things\nEach care decays, and yet my sorrow springs.", "https://poemanalysis.com/henry-howard/description-of-spring/", 102, "\"A poem about the joyful awakening of nature in spring contrasting with a speaker's deepening sorrow.\""], ["Passage to India by Walt Whitman", "Walt Whitman", "'Passage to India' by Walt Whitman describes an imaginary journey that a speaker wants to take into fabled India. Passage to India begins with a description of the new marvel of the modern world and how they are part of God's plan. These works, the Suez Canal, the great American Railway, and the transatlantic cable allowed men and women to know one another in a new way. He sees India as a mysterious and fabled place that once visited, will allow the rejuvenation of his soul. He will return to the birthplace of mankind and be renewed for the rest of his life. The Passage to India is not easy, many have died on the way. That scares the speaker, but not so much so as to deter him from undertaking the voyage. The pull of exploration is like a current running through the human race and he is a part of it and wants to feel the connectivity of the earth. The speaker also takes the time to mourn the downfall of men, like Columbus, who ended their lives unhappily. He imagines that he is on this important journey with his soul and that the two of them are circumnavigating the earth together. After asking himself if he is ready to go further on his journey, the reply is an eventual yes and he commands the anchor to be lifted. While the voyage might seem like a terrifying one, he is protected by God.", "Passage O soul to India!\nEclaircise the myths Asiatic, the primitive fables.\nNot you alone, proud truths of the world, Nor you alone, ye facts of modern science, But myths and fables of eld, Asia\u2019s, Africa\u2019s fables, The far-darting beams of the spirit, the unloos\u2019d dreams, The deep diving bibles and legends, The daring plots of the poets, the elder religions; O you temples fairer than lilies, pour\u2019d over by the rising sun! O you fables, spurning the known, eluding the hold of the known, mounting to heaven! You lofty and dazzling towers, pinnacled, red as roses, burnish\u2019d with gold! Towers of fables immortal, fashion\u2019d from mortal dreams! You too I welcome, and fully, the same as the rest! You too with joy I sing. Passage to India!\nLo, soul! seest thou not God\u2019s purpose from the first? The earth to be spann\u2019d, connected by network, The races, neighbors, to marry and be given in marriage, The oceans to be cross\u2019d, the distant brought near,\nThe lands to be welded together. A worship new I sing, You captains, voyagers, explorers, yours, You engineers, you architects, machinists, yours, You, not for trade or transportation only,\nBut in God\u2019s name, and for thy sake, O soul.", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/50978/a-passage-to-india", 198, "A poem about a speaker journeying toward the fabled birthplace of mankind, seeking the rejuvenation of his soul while feeling the pull of exploration and the connectivity of the earth, protected by God."], ["His Return to London by Robert Herrick", "Robert Herrick", "His Return to London' by Robert Herrick is a celebration of one speaker's joyful return to London and his hopes that he can remain there. The speaker begins 'His Return to London' by stating that he is on a journey from the west to the east. This is a trip that he is relishing. It is taking him from somewhere dark and dreary, to somewhere bright and pregnant with possibility. In fact, London is so special to him, that he sees it as a place of nativity. It is important to him, just like one's spiritual or religious beliefs would be. In the next lines, he celebrates the fact that there are so many different kinds of people in the country. At the same time, he speaks directly to the citizens telling them that London is his home, but something happened that sent him into banishment. Now, he has been called back to his country. He is ready to remain there permanently until he dies. He feels that this will not be too long from now, and hopes that he can be buried in the London ground.", "From the dull confines of the drooping west\nTo see the day spring from the pregnant east,\nRavish'd in spirit, I come, nay more, I fly\nTo thee, blest place of my nativity!\nThus, thus with hallow'd foot I touch the ground,\nWith thousand blessings by thy fortune crown'd.\nO fruitful genius! that bestowest here\nAn everlasting plenty, year by year.\nO place! O people! Manners! fram'd to please\nAll nations, customs, kindreds, languages!\nI am a free-born Roman; suffer then\nThat I amongst you live a citizen.\nLondon my home is, though by hard fate sent\nInto a long and irksome banishment;\nYet since call'd back, henceforward let me be,\nO native country, repossess'd by thee!\nFor, rather than I'll to the west return,\nI'll beg of thee first here to have mine urn.\nWeak I am grown, and must in short time fall;\nGive thou my sacred relics burial.", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47289/his-return-to-london", 131, "A poem about a speaker joyfully returning to their beloved London from a dark and dreary west, celebrating the city as their spiritual home and expressing their hope of remaining there until death."], ["Boot and Saddle by Robert Browning", "Robert Browning", "Boot and Saddle' by Robert Browning is a perfectly rhymed poem that depicts the ride of an Englishmen going to fight during the English Civil War. The poem focuses on the action of the man on horseback. He repeats, through a chorus of \u201c'Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!'\u201d that he's prepared for any fight. The speaker addresses the location, Brancepeth Castle, and those he will find there: the Roundheads, or Parliamentarians. He has no intention of surrendering and will only take the advice of counselors who are prepared to fight.", "Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!\nRescue my Castle, before the hot day\nBrightens the blue from its silvery grey,\n\n(Chorus) \"Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!\"\n\nRide past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say;\nMany's the friend there, will listen and pray\n\"God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay,\n\n(Chorus) \"Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!\"\n\nForty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,\nFlouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads array:\nWho laughs, Good fellows ere this, by my fay,\n\n(Chorus) \"Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!\"\n\nWho? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,\nLaughs when you talk of surrendering, \"Nay!\nI've better counsellors; what counsel they?\"\n\n(Chorus) \"Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!\"", "https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/boot-and-saddle/", 101, "\"A poem about an Englishman riding on horseback to battle during the English Civil War, repeatedly declaring his readiness to fight and refusing to surrender to his enemies.\""], ["The Snow Fairy by Claude McKay", "Claude McKay", "'The Snow Fairy' by Claude McKay is a beautifully written poem in which the poet presents two sonnets with similar imagery. The first of the two sonnets focuses on a snowfall, something he compares to \u201csnow-fairies\u201d fighting for supremacy in the sky and then resting peacefully on the ground. He uses personification throughout the piece, until the end when they've \u201cgone,\u201d or melted away. In the second sonnet, the speaker picks his line of thought immediately back up with the word \u201cAnd.\u201d It appears that the first sonnet has led him to the thoughts he has in the second. He imagines \u201cyou,\u201d an unknown listener and the speaker's lover, coming to him and bringing warmth and summer into his home. Together, the two go to bed. When he wakes up, this person is gone as if they left with the dawn as a dream.", "Throughout the afternoon I watched them there,\nSnow-fairies falling, falling from the sky,\nWhirling fantastic in the misty air,\nContending fierce for space supremacy.\nAnd they flew down a mightier force at night,\nAs though in heaven there was revolt and riot,\nAnd they, frail things had taken panic flight\nDown to the calm earth seeking peace and quiet.\nI went to bed and rose at early dawn\nTo see them huddled together in a heap,\nEach merged into the other upon the lawn,\nWorn out by the sharp struggle, fast asleep.\nThe sun shone brightly on them half the day,\nBy night they stealthily had stol\u2019n away.\nII\nAnd suddenly my thoughts then turned to you\nWho came to me upon a winter\u2019s night,\nWhen snow-sprites round my attic window flew,\nYour hair disheveled, eyes aglow with light.\nMy heart was like the weather when you came,\nThe wanton winds were blowing loud and long;\nBut you, with joy and passion all aflame,\nYou danced and sang a lilting summer song.\nI made room for you in my little bed,\nTook covers from the closet fresh and warm,\nA downful pillow for your scented head,\nAnd lay down with you resting in my arm.\nYou went with Dawn. You left me ere the day,\nThe lonely actor of a dreamy play.", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/53213/the-snow-fairy", 193, "A poem about snowflakes falling and resting peacefully before melting away, leading the speaker to imagine a lover bringing warmth into his life, only to disappear like a fleeting dream."], ["The Snowman on the Moor by Sylvia Plath", "Sylvia Plath", "Sylvia Plath\u2019s \u2018The Snowman on the Moor\u2018 discusses the emotional toll that an abusive relationship takes on the victim. \u2018The Snowman on the Moor\u2018 follows Plath\u2019s perspective on emotional abuse within a seemingly perfect relationship and discusses the perpetuated cycle of abuse and internal struggle that the female victim faces within herself. By incorporating her own experiences and personal pronouns, the poet makes the content of the poem relatable to every sufferer of abuse within romantic relationships.", "Stalemated their armies stood, with tottering banners: \nShe flung from a room\nStill ringing with bruit of insults and dishonors\n\nAnd in fury left him\nGlowering at the coal-fire: \"Come find me\"-her last taunt.\nHe did not come\n\nBut sat on, guarding his grim battlement.\nBy the doorstep\nHer winter-beheaded daisies, marrowless, gaunt,\n\nWarned her to keep\nIndoors with politic goodwill, not haste\nInto a landscape\n\nOf stark wind-harrowed hills and weltering mist; \nBut from the house \nShe stalked intractable as a driven ghost\n\nAcross moor snows\nPocked by rook-claw and rabbit-track: she must yet win\nHim to his kneesn-", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse?contentId=27374", 85, "A poem about exploring the emotional and internal struggles of a woman enduring abuse within a romantic relationship."], ["A Stopwatch and an Ordnance Map by Stephen Spender", "Stephen Spender", "'A Stopwatch and an Ordnance Map' by Stephen Spender is a poem about the effect of war, mortality, and time. In the first part of the poem, Spender uses two refrains and several other lines to describe the death of a soldier who lost his life while fighting. His death was incredibly important to the poet's speaker. He emphasizes the watch the man had on his wrist as well. In the second septet, or set of seven lines, the speaker describes this one man's death, and the presence of his body brings sorrow to all those who observed it. The man is split from his comrades by the bullet and now proceeds on a lonely path toward death. In the final section of the poem, the speaker alludes to a friend that the deceased soldier left behind. This man is also marked forever by his friend's loss.", "A stopwatch and an ordnance map.\nAt five a man fell to the ground\nAnd the watch flew off his wrist\nLike a moon struck from the earth\nMarking a blank time that stares\nOn the tides of change beneath.\nAll under the olive trees.\nA stopwatch and an ordnance map.\nHe stayed faithfully in that place\nFrom his living comrade split\nBy dividers of the bullet\nOpening wide the distances\nOf his final loneliness.\n\nAll under the olive trees.\nA stopwatch and an ordnance map.\nAnd the bones are fixed at five\nUnder the moon's timelessness;\nBut another who lives on\nWears within his heart forever\nSpace split open by the bullet.\nAll under the olive trees.", "poemhunter.com/poem/a-stopwatch-and-an-ordnance-map/", 97, "\"A poem about a soldier dying in war, leaving behind sorrow in his comrades and marking forever those who observed his lonely path toward death.\""], ["The Harvest Moon by Ted Hughes", "Ted Hughes", "'The Harvest Moon' by Ted Hughes describes the awe-inspiring beauty of the harvest moon and captures the reaction of different creatures. 'The Harvest Moon' by Ted Hughes describes the appearance of the harvest moon in the sky as a \u201cflame-red\u201d object. Thereafter, the poet captures its movement across the sky and uses different literary devices to compare its changing beauty. He uses the images of \u201cballoon\u201d and \u201cdoubloon\u201d for this purpose. The instruments mentioned in the first stanza of the poem captures the sound present in nature. After that, there is a reference to the people's activity during the harvest moon. They are pious about the autumnal full moon. Moreover, the third stanza, presents how the cows and sheep react while watching the moon. In the last stanza, the poet presents the main idea of the poem by personifying the \u201cgold fields\u201d.", "The flame-red moon, the harvest moon,\nRolls along the hills, gently bouncing,\nA vast balloon,\nTill it takes off, and sinks upward\nTo lie on the bottom of the sky, like a gold doubloon.\nThe harvest moon has come,\nBooming softly through heaven, like a bassoon.\nAnd the earth replies all night, like a deep drum.\n\nSo people can't sleep,\nSo they go out where elms and oak trees keep\nA kneeling vigil, in a religious hush.\nThe harvest moon has come!\n\nAnd all the moonlit cows and all the sheep\nStare up at her petrified, while she swells\nFilling heaven, as if red hot, and sailing\nCloser and closer like the end of the world.\n\nTill the gold fields of stiff wheat\nCry `We are ripe, reap us!' and the rivers\nSweat from the melting hills.", "https://allpoetry.com/poem/8495327-The-Harvest-Moon-by-Ted-Hughes", 118, "A poem about the harvest moon rising as a flame-red object, moving across the sky and inspiring awe in both creatures and people as it illuminates the gold fields below."], ["To a Captious Critic by Paul Laurence Dunbar", "Paul Laurence Dunbar", "'To a Captious Critic' by Paul Laurence Dunbar is a short, punchy poem that mocks a critic and the world of literary criticism. The poem begins with the speaker addressing the critic, telling him that he's a boring prince ruling over a \u201cdull\u201d world. It's clear Dunbar feels disdain for the profession, but at the same time, he tells this person that he could do their job far better than they can. In the last line, he calls for the critic to step down from his throne and allow other, smarter people, to take his place.", "Dear critic, who my lightness so deplores,\nWould I might study to be prince of bores,\nRight wisely would I rule that dull estate\u2014\nBut, sir, I may not, till you abdicate", "https://etc.usf.edu/lit2go/192/lyrics-of-love-and-laughter/4041/to-a-captious-critic/", 28, "\"A poem about a speaker mocking a dull, boring critic and calling for him to step down from his throne to allow smarter people to take his place.\""], ["The Gift of India\u00a0by Sarojini Naidu", "Sarojini Naidu", "The poem 'The Gift of India' by Sarojini Naidu sounds like an appeal made by mother India to the world to remember the contribution of Indian soldiers during World War I. It is surcharged with the emotional outpouring of a mother, reminiscence on how her children fought and died during World War I. In the first stanza, the poet regards all the benefits of raiment, grain, and gold unearthed and taken away across the world as gifts from India. The second stanza pictures the pathetic situation of those who lost their lives miles apart from home. The third stanza briefs on the grief brought home by their death. Finally, in the fourth stanza, the poet or the speaker appeals to honor the sacrifices of the Indian soldiers.", "Is there aught you need that my hands withhold,\nRich gifts of raiment or grain or gold?\nLo! I have flung to the East and West\nPriceless treasures torn from my breast,\nAnd yielded the sons of my stricken womb\nTo the drum-beats of duty, the sabres of doom.\n\nGathered like pearls in their alien graves\nSilent they sleep by the Persian waves,\nScattered like shells on Egyptian sands,\nThey lie with pale brows and brave, broken hands,\nThey are strewn like blossoms mown down by chance\nOn the blood-brown meadows of Flanders and France.\n\nCan ye measure the grief of the tears I weep\nOr compass the woe of the watch I keep?\nOr the pride that thrills thro' my heart's despair\nAnd the hope that comforts the anguish of prayer?\nAnd the far sad glorious vision I see\nOf the torn red banners of Victory?\n\nWhen the terror and tumult of hate shall cease\nAnd life be refashioned on anvils of peace,\nAnd your love shall offer memorial thanks\nTo the comrades who fought in your dauntless ranks,\nAnd you honour the deeds of the deathless ones\nRemember the blood of thy martyred sons!", "poetrybyheart.org.uk/poems/the-gift-of-india", 172, "A poem about mother India emotionally appealing to the world to remember and honor the sacrifices of her children who fought and died in World War I, while reflecting on the gifts of raiment, grain, and gold she has given."], ["The Farrier by Owen Sheers", "Owen Sheers", "\u2018The Farrier\u2019 by Owen Sheers portrays the story of a farrier attaching new shoes on a female horse. The poem is often interpreted as an extended metaphor to portray the complexities of the relationship between males and females. The archetypical portrayal of the masculine and feminine within the poem convene to present Sheers\u2019 upbringing, being from a strict background in which gender roles were clearly defined.\n\n", "Blessing himself with his apron,\nthe leather black and tan of a rain-beaten bay,\nhe pinches a roll-up to his lips and waits\n\nthe smoke slow-turning from his mouth,\nfor the mare to be led from the field to the yard\nand the wind twisting his sideburns in its fingers.\n\nShe smells him as he passes, woodbine, metal and hoof,\ncareful not to look her in the eye as he runs his hand\nthe length of her neck, checking for dust on the lintels.\n\n\nFolding her back leg with one arm, he leans into her flank\nlike a man putting his shoulder to a knackered car,\ncatches the hoof between his knees\n\nas if it's just fallen from a table,\ncups her fetlock and bends,\na romantic lead dropping to the lips of his lover.\n\nThen the close work begins: cutting moon-sliver clippings,\nexcavating the arrow head of her frog,\nfiling at the sole and branding on a shoe\n\nin an apparition of smoke,\nthree nails gritted between his teeth,\na seamstress pinning the dress of the bride.\n\nPlacing his tools in their beds,\nhe gives her a slap and watches her leave,\nawkward in her new shoes, walking on strange ground.\n\nThe sound of his steel, biting at her heels.", "https://genius.com/Owen-sheers-the-farrier-annotated", 186, "A poem about a farrier shoeing a female horse, serving as an extended metaphor exploring the complex and deeply defined dynamics existing between masculine and feminine forces."], ["Romeo and Juliet Act I Prologue by William Shakespeare", "William Shakespeare", "Act I Prologue' by William Shakespeare the chorus provides the reader with information about the setting, the \u201cTwo households\u201d that the play hinges around and the \u201cnew mutiny\u201d that stimulates the action. The prologue alludes to the end of the play in which both Romeo and Juliet lost their lives. It is only due to that loss that their \u201cparents' rage\u201d ends. The lines also specifically address the audience asking them to list with \u201cpatient ears\u201d and find out how the events are going to play out.", "Two households, both alike in dignity,\nIn fair Verona where we lay our scene,\nFrom ancient grudge break to new mutiny,\nWhere civil blood makes civil hands unclean.\nFrom forth the fatal loins of these two foes,\nA pair of star-crossed lovers take their life,\nWhose misadventured piteous overthrows\nDoth, with their death, bury their parents' strife.\nThe fearful passage of their death-marked love\nAnd the continuance of their parents' rage \u2014 Which, but their children's end, nought could remove \u2014\nIs now the two hours' traffic of our stage;\nThe which, if you with patient ears attend,\nWhat here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.", "https://myshakespeare.com/romeo-and-juliet/act-1-prologue", 95, "A poem about two feuding households whose bitter conflict is only ending through the tragic loss of their children's lives."], ["Concord Hymn by Ralph Waldo Emerson", "Ralph Waldo Emerson", "Concord Hymn' by Ralph Waldo Emerson describes the spirit which inhabited the \u201cembattled farmers\u201d at the start of the Revolutionary War. The poem begins with the speaker stating that farmers have gathered at a \u201crude bridge\u201d on the bank of a river. They have come together in preparation for a battle that they know is coming. The next lines of the poem make clear that it is time for a change. The residents of the Colonies have had enough, and are ready to fight, hand-to-hand if necessary, for what they want. In the last two stanzas of the poem, the speaker describes the dedication of the monument for which the poem was written. He asks God to spare the statue from any of the damages \u201cTime\u201d or \u201cNature\u201d could inflict upon it as the generations to come to need to understand its importance.", "By the rude bridge that arched the flood,\nTheir flag to April\u2019s breeze unfurled,\nHere once the embattled farmers stood\nAnd fired the shot heard round the world.\nThe foe long since in silence slept;\nAlike the conqueror silent sleeps;\nAnd Time the ruined bridge has swept\nDown the dark stream which seaward creeps.\nOn this green bank, by this soft stream,\nWe set today a votive stone;\nThat memory may their deed redeem,\nWhen, like our sires, our sons are gone.\nSpirit, that made those heroes dare\nTo die, and leave their children free,\nBid Time and Nature gently spare\nThe shaft we raise to them and thee.", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45870/concord-hymn", 93, "\"A poem about embattled farmers gathering at a bridge to fight for change, and asking God to preserve the monument commemorating their revolutionary spirit for future generations.\""], ["Autumn Song by Dante Gabriel Rossetti", "Dante Gabriel Rossetti", "Autumn Song' by Dante Gabriel Rossetti describes the pains experienced by nature at the end of autumn and how these pains are translated to humankind. The poem begins with the speaker asking his first question. He wants to know if the reader is aware of the fact that one\u201d heart feels the most grief \u201cat the fall of the leaf.\u201d It is the days of autumn, particularly those which are edging on towards winter which is the hardest to live through. They are marked by an inescapable decay that makes its way through every living thing. In the second section, the speaker moves on to discuss the emotional and mental impacts of the changing season. One's mind will decay alongside one's body. It will be in vain to try to prevent this from happening or make any attempt to outlast it. He also states that this period of time will force one to watch their \u201cjoys\u201d suffer. In the final set of five lines death is described as being preferable to the long decay of autumn. By the time the pain sets in, one will be ready to face death. It will be the more \u201ccomely\u201d option between the two.", "Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf\nHow the heart feels a languid grief\nLaid on it for a covering,\nAnd how sleep seems a goodly thing\nIn Autumn at the fall of the leaf?\n\nAnd how the swift beat of the brain\nFalters because it is in vain,\nIn Autumn at the fall of the leaf\nKnowest thou not? and how the chief\nOf joys seems\u2014not to suffer pain?\n\nKnow'st thou not at the fall of the leaf\nHow the soul feels like a dried sheaf\nBound up at length for harvesting,\nAnd how death seems a comely thing\nIn Autumn at the fall of the leaf?", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/45005/autumn-song-56d22452505f6", 95, "A poem about nature's autumnal decay translating into human suffering, as the mind and body deteriorate alongside the dying season, rendering death a more welcome fate than the prolonged pain of living through it."], ["Postscript by Seamus Heaney", "Seamus Heaney", "Postscript' by Seamus Heaney is a short, meditative poem that describes a transitory moment by the sea and the sight of swans on a lake. The poem begins with the speaker telling the reader they should take the time to travel to the Flaggy Shore in the northern part of County Clare, Ireland. There, if they arrive between September and October, they'll see the area at its best. The sea will light up and glitter and there will be swans landing on the \u201cinland\u201d lake. He focuses on these creatures, describing them and their actions in great detail. The purity of this moment should not be violated by attempts to know it more fully. Instead, one should let the emotion rock their body, experiencing it this once in that time and place. ", "And some time make the time to drive out west\nInto County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,\nIn September or October, when the wind\nAnd the light are working off each other\nSo that the ocean on one side is wild\nWith foam and glitter, and inland among stones\nThe surface of a slate-grey lake is lit\nBy the earthed lightning of a flock of swans,\nTheir feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,\nTheir fully grown headstrong-looking heads\nTucked or cresting or busy underwater.\nUseless to think you\u2019ll park and capture it\nMore thoroughly. You are neither here nor there,\nA hurry through which known and strange things pass\nAs big soft buffetings come at the car sideways\nAnd catch the heart off guard and blow it open.", "https://poems.com/poem/postscript/", 113, "A poem about experiencing a fleeting moment by the sea and lake, where the sight of swans and glittering water is washing over the soul and rocking the body with pure, untameable emotion."], ["On Sitting Down to Read King Lear Once Again by John Keats", "John Keats", "In the poem, Keats fights against his ulterior urge to create in order to indulge in one of his greatest passions: that of re-reading the play, King Lear, one of the most influential of all of Shakespeare's work. 'King Lear' is a play about family and misery, duty and birthright, and how one's opinion can lead to tragedy. It is one of Shakespeare's most revered plays, played constantly over the years to crowds of packed audiences; and it is no secret why the play itself is one of Keat's favourites. 'King Lear' is all about artifice and joy and misery, things that Keats himself saw echoed and repeated in his own life, and tried to echo and repeat in his own work.", "O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute!\nFair plumed Syren! Queen of far away!\nLeave melodizing on this wintry day,\nShut up thine olden pages, and be mute:\nAdieu! for once again the fierce dispute,\nBetwixt damnation and impassion'd clay\nMust I burn through; once more humbly assay\nThe bitter-sweet of this Shakespearian fruit.\nChief Poet! and ye clouds of Albion,\nBegetters of our deep eternal theme,\nWhen through the old oak forest I am gone,\nLet me not wander in a barren dream,\nBut when I am consumed in the fire,\nGive me new Phoenix wings to fly at my desire.", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44482/on-sitting-down-to-read-king-lear-once-again", 87, "\"A poem about indulging in the re-reading of King Lear, a play exploring family, misery, duty, and tragedy, while fighting against the urge to create.\""], ["To Althea, from Prison by Richard Lovelace", "Richard Lovelace", "To Althea, from Prison' by Richard Lovelace describes a poet's attempts at maintaining his freedom while imprisoned in Gatehouse Prison in 1642. The poem begins with the speaker stating that while imprisoned in his cell his love comes to him and improves his situation. He imagines that his lover, Althea, visits him and takes his confinement away. His imaginings free him from the gates and grates which surround him. In the next section, he recalls moments of happiness drinking with others. These times brought him, and his friends, a freedom which was greater than that known by fish in the sea. They drink to the health of their king, a fact which contributed to the poet's imprisonment in the first place. In the last sections, he describes his ability to sing more shrilly than a \u201clinnet.\u201d This bird's song is not as sweet or loud as his is. His words will glorify the king and provide him with a freedom greater than that known by the winds which turn up a flood. The final lines return to the speaker's lover and he states that their love makes him freer than the angels which \u201csoar\u201d in the sky.", "When Love with unconfin\u00e8d wings\nHovers within my Gates,\nAnd my divine Althea brings\nTo whisper at the Grates;\nWhen I lie tangled in her hair,\nAnd fettered to her eye,\nThe Gods that wanton in the Air,\nKnow no such Liberty.\n\nWhen flowing Cups run swiftly round\nWith no allaying Thames,\nOur careless heads with Roses bound,\nOur hearts with Loyal Flames;\nWhen thirsty grief in Wine we steep,\nWhen Healths and draughts go free,\nFishes that tipple in the Deep\nKnow no such Liberty.\n\nWhen (like committed linnets) I\nWith shriller throat shall sing\nThe sweetness, Mercy, Majesty,\nAnd glories of my King;\nWhen I shall voice aloud how good\nHe is, how Great should be,\nEnlarg\u00e8d Winds, that curl the Flood,\nKnow no such Liberty.\n\nStone Walls do not a Prison make,\nNor Iron bars a Cage;\nMinds innocent and quiet take\nThat for an Hermitage.\nIf I have freedom in my Love,\nAnd in my soul am free,\nAngels alone that soar above,\nEnjoy such Liberty.", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44657/to-althea-from-prison", 138, "A poem about a prisoner finding freedom through his love, his camaraderie with friends drinking to their king, his singing voice, and ultimately the soaring love of another that transcends the physical constraints surrounding him."], ["The Great Figure by William Carlos Williams", "William Carlos Williams", "The first thing, and also last thing, Williams focuses on within this poem is the atmosphere. The keywords from this descriptive field are 'rain', 'lights', 'rumbling', and 'dark city'. The description of the scene, although short, is a sensory overload. Williams hastens to fit in as many sights and sounds as he can during the 31 lines. By setting the poem within this rainy, dark city, the poem takes on an air of nostalgia. By not identifying the city, the reader can self-identify with the poem, reading it into a location of their choosing. Without the appearance of the firetruck, the scene is actually a little depressing. The focus on the 'rain' and 'dark' culminate into a dingy and washed-out image. The sudden appearance of the truck breathes life into the poem, searing itself on the memory of the reader. The lack of sound within the city is also evident by the appearance of the truck. The onomatopoeic 'siren howls' and 'wheels rumbling' culminate together to slice through the silence of the city. This moment, although only a flash is one that sensorially captivates the reader. The flash of 'red' and 'gold', searing as an image accompanying the loudness of the firetruck. This moment is temporary, yet very impactful. Perhaps here Williams is reflecting on the idea of memory, with this seemingly insignificant moment creating such a powerful image. This is supported by the odd elements which William writes, especially that of the number '5' seared onto his brain. It does not always have to be magnificent which is solidified in memory. Speed Movement is one of the key facets of 'The Great Figure.' The slow steadiness of the 'rain' and 'light' beginning the poem is contrasted against the sudden disruption of the firetruck. Interestingly, 'moving' is one of the only words in the poem that has a line to itself, elevating its importance. The fleeting nature of the firetruck can be linked to the transitory nature of time. This moment of explosive action speeds past us and then is gone. The firetruck comes into, and out of, sight in the blink of an eye. Williams could be suggesting that the fleeting nature of life needs to be focused on. Moments happen and then they are gone, most lost to forgetting. Perhaps William urges the reader to be more present, find the extraordinary within the ordinary.", "Among the rain\nand lights\nI saw the figure 5\nin gold\non a red\nfiretruck\nmoving\ntense\nunheeded\nto gong clangs\nsiren howls\nand wheels rumbling\nthrough the dark city.", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/51549/the-great-figure", 18, "A poem about a firetruck's fleeting appearance searing itself on the memory, slicing through the silence of a dark, rainy city and urging the reader to find the extraordinary within the ordinary."], ["Amends by Adrienne Rich", "Adrienne Rich", "'Amends' by Adrienne Rich describes the purity of moonlight as it passes over, and soaks into, the face of the earth. The speaker begins by describing the purity of the moon's light and how on certain nights it is more meaningful than others. The night of this poem's telling is one such night. The light emerges from behind an apple tree, crosses the ocean, pauses for a moment on the sand of the shore, relishing in the solidity of the earth, and then begins to climb. The moonlight moves up a cliff face and then comes into contact with humanity. It is forced to travel through gash-like \u201cquarries\u201d and across the vast piles of waste humankind has discarded. It finally reaches the population of the earth and rests of the eyelids of all the sleepers, hoping to \u201camend\u201d the actions of humanity. The purity of light is being wielded as a weapon for the good of the earth.", "Nights like this: on the cold apple bough\na white star, then another\nexploding out of the bark: on the ground, moonlight picking at small stones\nas it picks greater stones, as it rises with the surf\nlaying its cheek for moments on the sand\nas it licks the broken ledge, as it flows up the cliffs,\nas it flicks across the tracks\nas it unavailing pours into the gash\nof the sand-and-gravel quarry\nas it leans across the hangared fuselage\nof the crop-dusting plane\nas it soaks through cracks into trailers\ntremulous with sleep\nas it dwells upon the eyelids of the sleepers\nas if to make amends.", "https://poetryprof.com/amends/", 94, "\"A poem about moonlight passing over the earth's landscape and resting on the eyelids of sleeping humanity, seeking to amend the damage humankind has caused.\""], ["Orinda to Lucasia by Katherine Philips", "Katherine Philips", "'Orinda to Lucasia' by Katherine Philips describes the importance and intensity of the relationship she holds with her close friend, Anne Owens. The poem begins with the speaker describing what the world is like when it waits for the sun to rise. The night seems endless and the sun late to arrive in the sky. This intense wanting of light inspires the birds to cry out to the sky and the flowers to droop in sadness. Even the brook which should be fierce is mourning for the sun. The second stanza is directly related to the first as the speaker compares her friendship with Anne Owens to the sun. Owens, referred to as Lucasia in this text, is as critical to her survival as heat and light are to birds and flowers. For an unstated reason, the speaker and her friend are separated at this point and she knows she won't survive much longer without her. Even though it might be fruitless, she will continue to cry out, like the desperate birds of the first stanza, for Lucasia to return to her.", "Observe the weary birds e're night be done,\nHow they would fain call up the tardy Sun,\nWith Feathers hung with dew,\nAnd trembling voices too,\nThey court their glorious Planet to appear,\nThat they may find recruits of spirits there.\nThe drooping flowers hang their heads,\nAnd languish down into their beds:\nWhile Brooks more bold and fierce than they,\nWanting those beams, from whence\nAll things drink influence,\nOpenly murmur and demand the day.\nThou my Lucasia art far more to me,\nThan he to all the under-world can be;\nFrom thee I've heat and light,\nThy absence makes my night.\nBut ah! my Friend, it now grows very long,\nThe sadness weighty, and the darkness strong:\nMy tears (its dew) dwell on my cheeks,\nAnd still my heart thy dawning seeks,\nAnd to thee mournfully it cries,\nThat if too long I wait,\nEv'n thou may'st come too late,\nAnd not restore my life, but close my eyes.\nRate this poem:", "https://www.poetrynook.com/poem/orinda-lucasia", 139, "\"A poem about a speaker longing desperately for her absent friend, comparing their separation to a world waiting endlessly for the sun to rise, and crying out for her return.\""], ["Reminiscence by Elizabeth Jennings", "Elizabeth Jennings", "The poem, Reminiscence, by Elizabeth Jennings is about experiencing love in childhood and adulthood. As the very title of the poem suggests itself that it is about the nostalgic feeling of childhood. The poet, comparing her childhood with the adulthood, says that her childhood was honest and innocent. Love in her childhood was neither complicated nor violently emotional. Remembering her childhood, the poet says that she could live her life as she wished.\n\nOn the contrary, her adulthood introduces her to the stony world which asks for meanings of everything. She says where her childhood was full of glittering life; her adulthood taught her about the clarity of life. She says where in her childhood she never felt to understand the meaning of love and other things, her adulthood taught her the reality of life, but she says she doesn\u2019t need such clarity.", "When I was happy alone, too young for love\nOr to be loved in any but a way\nCloudless and gentle, I would find the day\nLong as I wished its length or web to weave.\n\nI did not know or could not know enough\nTo fret at thought or even try to whittle\nA pattern from the shapeless stony stuff\nThat now confuses since I\u2019ve grown too subtle.\n\nI used the senses, did not seek to find\nSomething they could not touch, made numb with fear;\nI felt the glittering landscape in the mind\nAnd O was happy not to have it clear.", "https://www.kidsworldfun.com/learn-english/poem-reminiscence.php", 92, "A poem about comparing the innocent and uncomplicated experience of love in childhood to the harsh and meaning-seeking nature of adulthood, longing for the simplicity that once was."], ["Democracy by Langston Hughes", "Langston Hughes", "Democracy' by Langston Hughes is a direct and powerful poem that asks the reader to reassess their ideas about freedom and democracy. In the short lines of this poem, the speaker makes the argument that they deserve to be free and \u201cstand\u201d on the \u201cland\u201d as much as \u201cyou\u201d do. They have thus far been denied equal rights but it's time for things to change. Incremental change, he adds, or the promise of change in the future is not enough. He and all those in the Black community (or anyone who has been disenfranchised for that matter) want and deserve the same rights as those in power.", "Democracy will not come\nToday, this year\nNor ever\nThrough compromise and fear.\n\nI have as much right\nAs the other fellow has\nTo stand\nOn my two feet\nAnd own the land.\n\nI tire so of hearing people say,\nLet things take their course.\nTomorrow is another day.\nI do not need my freedom when I'm dead.\nI cannot live on tomorrow's bread.\n\nFreedom\nIs a strong seed\nPlanted\nIn a great need.\n\nI live here, too.\nI want freedom\nJust as you.", "https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/democracy/", 63, "A poem about a speaker demanding equal freedom and rights on equal land, rejecting incremental change and insisting that full democracy is deserved now."], ["Shadwell Stair by Wilfred Owen", "Wilfred Owen", "'Shadwell Stair' by Wilfred Owen describes a haunted track of docks in London and the emotional turmoil of the ghost that frequents them. The poem begins with the speaker stating that he is in fact a ghost, and spends his nights walking the \u201cwharves\u201d and \u201cslaughter-house\u201d around Shadwell Stair. He considers himself to be \u201cthe shadow\u201d that walks and lives there. He continues on to state that while he may be a ghost, he is not without physical form. He still feels things, and his skin is cold to the touch. Additionally, he says that his eyes are like the reflections of lights in the water of the Thames. In the second half of the poem, the peaceful imagery has come to an end, and the speaker describes the turmoil he feels as night ends. He has walked until the stars are gone and conclude his wanderings by laying down beside another ghost. Explore more Wilfred Owen poems.", "I am the ghost of Shadwell Stair.\nAlong the wharves by the water-house,\nAnd through the cavernous slaughter-house,\nI am the shadow that walks there.\nYet I have flesh both firm and cool,\nAnd eyes tumultuous as the gems\nOf moons and lamps in the full Thames\nWhen dusk sails wavering down the pool.\nShuddering the purple street-arc burns\nWhere I watch always; from the banks\nDolorously the shipping clanks\nAnd after me a strange tide turns.\nI walk till the stars of London wane\nAnd dawn creeps up the Shadwell Stair.\nBut when the crowing syrens blare\nI with another ghost am lain.", "https://poets.org/poem/shadwell-stair", 88, "\"A poem about a ghost haunting the docks and wharves around Shadwell Stair, feeling the cold of his physical form and the emotional turmoil of his nightly wanderings along the Thames until finally laying down beside another ghost as the stars fade.\""], ["Autumn Fires by Robert Louis Stevenson", "Robert Louis Stevenson", "Autumn Fires' by Robert Louis Stevenson is a straightforward, celebratory poem that compares autumn colors to a raging wildfire. In this short poem's stanzas, Stevenson celebrates the changes that come as the autumn season begins. All around the landscape, he can see the red fires of changing leaves burning. From the bountiful summer to the dryer, more colorful fall, this change is to be appreciated. He also uses repetition several times in these lines to note the presence of metaphorical smoke.", "In the other gardens\nAnd all up the vale,\nFrom the autumn bonfires\nSee the smoke trail!\nPleasant summer over\nAnd all the summer flowers,\nThe red fire blazes,\nThe grey smoke towers.\nSing a song of seasons!\nSomething bright in all!\nFlowers in the summer,\nFires in the fall!", "https://www.yourdailypoem.com/listpoem.jsp?poem_id=1281", 38, "A poem about celebrating the fiery colors of autumn leaves burning across the landscape like a raging wildfire."], ["In The Bazaars of Hyderabad by Sarojini Naidu", "Sarojini Naidu", "'In The Bazaars of Hyderabad' by Sarojini Naidu describes in vibrant detail the market stalls and products of the Hyderabad bazaars. The poem begins with the speaker, a customer, asking a vendor what he is selling. This person gives him details regarding the turbans, rich mirrors, and daggers, as well as beautifully stitched tunics he has for sale. The text progresses quickly to the next stall where the same, or possibly a new, customer inquiries about the \u201clentils, rice\u201d and spices being sold. Again, they receive an appealing description of the items. In the third stanza, the speaker becomes interested in what the \u201cgoldsmith\u201d is making. This stanza is more in-depth as the goldsmith focuses on three different ways he treats gold. He is seeking to show off his products and his skill. He can hammer something thin enough for the leg of a pigeon, or forge something sturdy enough for a king. In the fourth stanza, the speaker inquires about three different types of instruments and fruits. These products almost all originate from the Indian subcontinent and are added into the piece in order to further praise the Indian culture. The final stanza describes in greater detail than any of the previous stanzas what the materials for sale are going to be used for. In this section, the speaker asks \u201cflower-girls\u201d what they are weaving. They respond by describing the creation of a crown for a bridegroom and a shroud for someone recently deceased. Explore more Sarojini Naidu poems.", "What do you sell O ye merchants ?\nRichly your wares are displayed.\nTurbans of crimson and silver,\nTunics of purple brocade,\nMirrors with panels of amber,\nDaggers with handles of jade.\n\nWhat do you weigh, O ye vendors?\nSaffron and lentil and rice.\nWhat do you grind, O ye maidens?\nSandalwood, henna, and spice.\nWhat do you call , O ye pedlars?\nChessmen and ivory dice.\n\nWhat do you make,O ye goldsmiths?\nWristlet and anklet and ring,\nBells for the feet of blue pigeons\nFrail as a dragon-fly\u2019s wing,\nGirdles of gold for dancers,\nScabbards of gold for the king.\n\nWhat do you cry,O ye fruitmen?\nCitron, pomegranate, and plum.\nWhat do you play ,O musicians?\nCithar, sarangi and drum.\nwhat do you chant, O magicians?\nSpells for aeons to come.\n\nWhat do you weave, O ye flower-girls\nWith tassels of azure and red?\nCrowns for the brow of a bridegroom,\nChaplets to garland his bed.\nSheets of white blossoms new-garnered\nTo perfume the sleep of the dead.", "https://allpoetry.com/In-The-Bazaars-of-Hyderabad", 139, "A poem about celebrating the vibrant sights and products of Hyderabad's bazaars, moving from stall to stall where vendors are selling, crafting, and weaving goods that span the full breadth of human life from wedding celebrations to death."], ["This Moment by Eavan Boland", "Eavan Boland", "'This Moment' by Eavan Boland is a short poem that captures a snapshot of dusk in a neighbourhood positioned exactly between day and night. The poem begins with the speaker giving the reader a few simple comments about the setting. These provide the backbone to 'This Moment'. She also references things that are about to come but aren't happening yet. Soon, there will be stars in the sky and moths flying in the air. Now though, it is still dusk. There's light on some of the trees and a mother and her child are still outdoors. 'This Moment' concludes with the speaker alluding to the peaceful onset of night. All the things she said would happen are happening.", "A neighbourhood.\nAt dusk.\n\nThings are getting ready\nto happen\nout of sight.\n\nStars and moths.\nAnd rinds slanting around fruit.\n\nBut not yet.\n\nOne tree is black.\nOne window is yellow as butter.\n\nA woman leans down to catch a child\nwho has run into her arms\nthis moment.\n\nStars rise.\nMoths flutter.\nApples sweeten in the dark.", "https://www.loc.gov/programs/poetry-and-literature/poet-laureate/poet-laureate-projects/poetry-180/all-poems/item/poetry-180-138/this-moment/", 43, "\"A poem about capturing a neighbourhood transitioning from dusk to night, where a mother and child linger outdoors as stars appear and moths begin to fly.\""], ["My First Christmas in Heaven", "Christmas Songs", "'My First Christmas in Heaven' is a simple, religious poem that addresses God, the Christmas season, and the importance of love. The speaker talks directly to those they left behind. They describe their first Christmas in Heaven and how much better it is than Christmas on earth. The speaker also asks those listening to not mourn their loss but celebrate the happy new world that the speaker has moved on to. At the end of the poem, the speaker tells the listeners that they are sending their love down to earth.", "I see the countless Christmas trees\naround the world below\nWith tiny lights, like Heaven's stars,\nreflecting on the snow\nThe sight is so spectacular,\nplease wipe away the tear\nFor I am spending Christmas with\nJesus Christ this year.\nI hear the many Christmas songs\nthat people hold so dear\nBut the sounds of music can't compare\nwith the Christmas choir up here.\nI have no words to tell you,\nthe joy their voices bring,\nFor it is beyond description,\nto hear the angels sing.\nI know how much you miss me,\nI see the pain inside your heart.\nBut I am not so far away,\nWe really aren't apart.\nSo be happy for me, dear ones,\nYou know I hold you dear.\nAnd be glad I'm spending Christmas\nwith Jesus Christ this year.\nI sent you each a special gift,\nfrom my heavenly home above.\nI sent you each a memory\nof my undying love.\nAfter all, love is a gift more precious\nthan pure gold.\nIt was always most important\nin the stories Jesus told.\nPlease love and keep each other,\nas my Father said to do.\nFor I can't count the blessing or love\nHe has for each of you.\nSo have a Merry Christmas and\nwipe away that tear.\nRemember, I am spending Christmas with\nJesus Christ this year.", "https://www.poemofquotes.com/articles/my-first-christmas-in-heaven.php", 184, "A poem about a departed soul celebrating their first Christmas in Heaven, asking loved ones to rejoice rather than mourn while sending their love back down to earth."], ["The Best Thing in the World by Elizabeth Barrett Browning", "Elizabeth Barrett Browning", "'The Best Thing in the World' by Elizabeth Barrett Browning describes a speaker's opinion on what the most valuable things in the world are. The poem begins with the speaker asking the reader what they think the \u201cbest thing in the world\u201d is. It is clear from the next lines that the speaker has an answer and she's ready to provide it. She goes on to list out a number of features, experiences, and forces of the world she loves the most. All of these, from natural beauty to the south wind and harmless truth, are united by their intangibility. The last lines summarize the fact that the best parts of the world are things that humanity cannot physically grasp on to.", "WHAT\u2019S the best thing in the world?\n\nJune-rose by May-dew impearled;\n\nSweet south-wind, that means no rain;\n\nTruth, not cruel to a friend;\n\nPleasure, not in haste to end;\n\nBeauty, not self-decked and curled\n\nTill its pride is over-plain;\n\nLight, that never makes you wink;\n\nMemory, that gives no pain;\n\nLove, when so you\u2019re loved again.\n\nWhat\u2019s the best thing in the world?\u2014\n\nSomething out of it, I think.", "https://www.bartleby.com/lit-hub/library/poem/the-best-thing-in-the-world/", 57, "A poem about a speaker exploring what the most valuable things in the world are, listing intangible forces and experiences such as natural beauty and harmless truth, ultimately concluding that the best things in life are those which humanity cannot physically grasp."], ["We Alone by Alice Walker", "Alice Walker", "In this famous poem, We Alone, based on humanity, love, and money, Alice Walker reveals the power within each human heart, and the power we have together when united in purpose. She begins We Alone with a strong statement and one that makes the reader stop and ponders the power of the human race. With these lines of We Alone, the speaker communicates to the reader that these musings are a possibility if only everyone would agree to act. The speaker claims that it \u201ccould be our revolution\u201d to end the struggle for money and power and begin to value moments of connections with nature and other human beings. The speaker finally expresses a final thought on all that humankind values. She reveals that the revolution could finally happen when people would learn \u201cto love what is plentiful as much as what is scarce\u201d. Thus the speaker presents the idea that human love is what is behind the way the world works. Because we love power and material wealth, we place value on what is rare. However, if we could together agree to love all that nature has to offer, whether scarce or plentiful, we would surely enjoy a more thorough life. Although the reality of this kind of shift taking place is nearly impossible, the words do cause the reader to venture into self reflection and to ponder what true value is. The reader is moved to question his own motives and values as they determine the course of his life.\n\n", "We alone can devalue gold by not caring if it falls or rises in the marketplace. Wherever there is gold there is a chain, you know, and if your chain is gold so much the worse for you. Feathers, shells and sea-shaped stones are all as rare. This could be our revolution: to love what is plentiful as much as what's scarce.", "chrome-extension://efaidnbmnnnibpcajpcglclefindmkaj/https://nprcarmenia.files.wordpress.com/2015/12/we-alone.pdf", 61, "A poem about humanity questioning its obsession with power and material wealth, imagining a revolution in which people are learning to value love, nature, and human connection over what is rare and scarce."], ["Landscape with the Fall of Icarus by William Carlos Williams", "William Carlos Williams", "'Landscape with the Fall of Icarus' by William Carlos Williams gives the reader a humanly dark description of a painting by Pieter Brueghel. The poem being with the speaker stating that it was spring in which Icarus fell. The season is depicted by Pieter Brueghel through the trees, the ploughing farmer, and the color choices. Williams takes the season and plays with the \u201cpageantry\u201d of everything associated with it. There are people working, all to the benefit of themselves. In the next lines, he draws a reader's attention to another part of the scene. The young man, Icarus, has flown too close to the sun and is now drowning in the bay. Although this is clearly a tragedy for his father, and for the man himself, no one notices. This is why in the final lines Williams refers to the death as \u201cunsignificant.\u201d", "According to Brueghel\nwhen Icarus fell\nit was spring\n\na farmer was ploughing\nhis field\nthe whole pageantry\n\nof the year was\nawake tingling\nnear\n\nthe edge of the sea\nconcerned\nwith itself\n\nsweating in the sun\nthat melted\nthe wings' wax\n\nunsignificantly\noff the coast\nthere was\n\na splash quite unnoticed\nthis was\nIcarus drowning", "https://poets.org/poem/landscape-fall-icarus", 35, "A poem about depicting the tragic and unnoticed drowning of Icarus during a vibrant spring season, while the world continues working indifferently around him."], ["Amulet by Ted Hughes", "Ted Hughes", "The poem \u201cAmulet\u201d is full of cues that predominantly appeal to one's sight. Starting from the inside of the wolf's fang which is purple as heather. The inside of the heather looks like the wolf's fur. The inside of the wolf's fur is reminiscent of the old and grotesque forest resembling the wolf's foot. Its foot, in turn, calls for a comparison to the stony horizon (marks the path of the wolf that it has to tread along until it chances upon its prey in a doe), for the wolf's foot is as hard as stone (Thanks to the long walks!). The stony horizon besides looking like the foot also looks like the tongue of the wolf. Its tongue is as hard as stone (this is one hungry wolf!). The wolf's tongue salivating looks much like the doe's tears. And the doe's tears are hard like the frozen swamp (wolf sure won't fall for tears and won't give up on treating itself to a doe dinner!). The frozen swamp, suggestive of the wolf's inconsiderate and cold attitude, has in it the doe's tears. The blood only next to the attitude of the wolf is chilled. It is chilled by the snow wind as the wolf marches through its habitat for food. As its walk progresses, the wolf looks at the North star hoping it would guide him to his next prey. As he looks at the star one could see his eyes gleam like the star. It may be just a reflection of the star on the eyes of the wolf or it could be the passion of the wolf accelerated by its appetite. Like the wolf's eye reflects the North star, the star has inside it, the wolf's fang.", "Inside the wolf\u2019s fang, the mountain of heather.\nInside the mountain of heather, the wolf\u2019s fur.\nInside the wolf\u2019s fur, the ragged forest.\nInside the ragged forest, the wolf\u2019s foot.\nInside the wolf\u2019s foot, the stony horizon.\nInside the stony horizon, the wolf\u2019s tongue.\nInside the wolf\u2019s tongue, the doe\u2019s tears.\nInside the doe\u2019s tears, the frozen swap.\nInside the frozen swamp, the wolf\u2019s blood.\nInside the wolf\u2019s blood, the snow wind.\nInside the snow wind, the wolf\u2019s eye.\nInside the wolf\u2019s eye, the North star.\nInside the North star, the wolf\u2019s fang.", "https://acupofpoetry.tumblr.com/post/52312456936/amulet-by-ted-hughes", 80, "A poem about a wolf hunting its prey through a wintry landscape, with its fang, fur, foot, tongue, and eyes reflecting and echoing the natural world around it in an endless cycle of interconnected images."], ["The Sacred by Stephen Dunn", "Stephen Dunn", "The Sacred' by Stephen Dunn describes a conversation in a classroom and the idea of a car as a place of spiritual peace. The speaker takes the reader through the simple elements of a discussion about sacred places. The best example that a student in this discussion could come up with was a car. In it, one can insert the key, worship at the altar-dashboard, and put themselves in motion to go wherever they want to. This depiction of the car felt truthful to all those in the room and no one could fault it.", "After the teacher asked if anyone had\na sacred place\nand the students fidgeted and shrank\nin their chairs, the most serious of them all\nsaid it was his car,\nbeing in it alone, his tape deck playing\nthings he\u2019d chosen, and others knew the truth\nhad been spoken\nand began speaking about their rooms,\ntheir hiding places, but the car kept coming up,\nthe car in motion,\nmusic filling it, and sometimes one other person\nwho understood the bright altar of the dashboard\nand how far away\na car could take him from the need\nto speak, or to answer, the key\nin having a key\nand putting it in, and going.", "https://rolfpotts.com/sacred-stephen-dunn/", 95, "\"A poem about a student discovering the sacred in the simple freedom of a car, finding spiritual peace in its dashboard altar and the open road.\""], ["Richard Cory by Edwin Arlington Robinson", "Edwin Arlington Robinson", "\u2018Richard Cory\u2019 is a poem that shows why we should not judge people on appearances as it subverts our expectations in the final line. Regarding the structure and form, the poem is written in four quatrains written in iambic pentameter with a simple ABAB rhyme scheme. The language is straightforward though quietly stirring. The fact that the rhythm and rhyme are so consistent throughout makes the revelation at the end of stanza four all the more shocking. There is almost a conversational tone to the poem. The frequent use of \u2018and\u2019 adds to this effect, loading detail upon detail as the speaker tells the sorry tale of Richard Cory.", "Whenever Richard Cory went down town,\nWe people on the pavement looked at him:\nHe was a gentleman from sole to crown,\nClean favored and imperially slim.\n\nAnd he was always quietly arrayed,\nAnd he was always human when he talked,\nBut still he fluttered pulses when he said,\n\"Good-morning,\" and he glittered when he walked.\n\nAnd he was rich--yes, richer than a king--\nAnd admirably schooled in every grace:\nIn fine, we thought that he was everything\nTo make us wish that we were in his place.\n\nSo on we worked, and waited for the light,\nAnd went without the meat and cursed the bread;\nAnd Richard Cory, one calm summer night,\nWent home and put a bullet through his head.\n\nThis poem is in the public domain.", "https://poets.org/poem/richard-cory", 112, "\"A poem about judging people on appearances, loading detail upon detail in a conversational tone before subverting expectations with a shocking revelation.\""], ["Breakfast by Jacques Pr\u00e9vert", "Jacques Pr\u00e9vert", "'Breakfast' by Jacques Pr\u00e9vert is a thoughtful and direct poem that describes a speaker's reactions to an unknown man's coffee, cigarette, and departure. The speaker uses the first part of the poem to describe, step by step, the way a man prepares and drinks his coffee. The lines are quite direct and without emotion. As the poem progresses, the speaker moves on to describe how the man smokes, gets his hat and jacket on, and goes out into the rain. All this occurs without the man speaking to or looking at the speaker. This is something that troubles the speaker and leaves them in tears at the end of the poem.", "He poured the coffee\nInto the cup\nHe put the milk\nInto the cup of coffee\nHe put the sugar\nInto the coffee with milk\nWith a small spoon\nHe churned\nHe drank the coffee\nAnd he put down the cup\nWithout any word to me\nHe emptied the coffee with milk\nAnd he put down the cup\nWithout any word to me\nHe lighted\nOne cigarette\nHe made circles\nWith the smoke\nHe shook off the ash\nInto the ashtray\nWithout any word to me\nWithout any look at me\nHe got up\nHe put on\nA hat on his head\nHe put on\nA raincoat\nBecause it was raining\nAnd he left\nInto the rain\nWithout any word to me\nWithout any look at me\nAnd I buried\nMy face in my hands\nAnd I cried", "https://hellopoetry.com/poem/15459/breakfast/", 103, "A poem about a speaker watching a man silently drinking coffee, smoking, and departing into the rain without speaking or looking at them, leaving the speaker in tears."], ["How to Eat a Poem by Eve Merriam", "Eve Merriam", "In 'How to Eat a Poem', Merriam uses eating fruit as a metaphor for reading poetry, encouraging the reader to bite in without hesitation and enjoy it. The poet wrote this poem primarily for children. By likening poetry to fruit, Merriam is saying we can enjoy poetry just as we enjoy sweet fruit. Therefore, it is a poem that encourages the reading of poetry. Yes, bite in. Let the words fill your mouth. 'How to Eat a Poem' sets out to inspire people to read poetry, comparing it to delicious, juicy fruit. Therefore, Merriam wants to foster an appreciation for poetry, especially speaking the words aloud as we read.", "Don't be polite.\nBite in.\nPick it up with your fingers and lick the juice that\nmay run down your chin.\nIt is ready and ripe now, whenever you are.\nYou do not need a knife or fork or spoon\nor plate or napkin or tablecloth.\n\nFor there is no core\nor stem\nor rind\nor pit\nor seed\nor skin\nto throw away.", "http://www.tnellen.com/cybereng/poetry/eatpoem.html", 50, "A poem about encouraging readers to bite into poetry without hesitation, savoring the words like sweet, juicy fruit filling their mouths."], ["Question by May Swenson", "May Swenson", "'Question' by May Swenson anticipates the soul's future wanderings in its bodiless journey. This poem begins with a reference to three distinct things. The first one is a house, the second one is a horse, and the last one is a hound. All these references are compared to the speaker's body. She broods where her soul could sleep, or how it could ride, or hunt without the help of the body. In the last few lines, she asks whether she could hide her soul without her bodily house.", "Body my house\nmy horse my hound\nwhat will I do\nwhen you are fallen\n\nWhere will I sleep\nHow will I ride\nWhat will I hunt\n\nWhere can I go\nwithout my mount\nall eager and quick\nHow will I know\nin thicket ahead\nis danger or treasure\nwhen Body my good\nbright dog is dead\n\nHow will it be\nto lie in the sky\nwithout roof or door\nand wind for an eye\n\nWith cloud for shift\nhow will I hide?", "https://www.loc.gov/programs/poetry-and-literature/poet-laureate/poet-laureate-projects/poetry-180/all-poems/item/poetry-180-004/question/", 62, "A poem about a soul wondering how it will sleep, ride, and hunt as it wanders on a bodiless journey without its bodily house."], ["Killers by Carl Sandburg", "Carl Sandburg", "Killers' by Carl Sandburg describes and decries the role of sixteen million, idealized men chosen to fight, kill, and die for a cause. The poem begins with the speaker asking that his listener pay attention to the \u201csong\u201d he is about to share. This simply refers to the text of the poem which is about to follow. The speaker states that his words are going to depict a world that is deeply depressing, angry, and restricting.He is going to be telling the story of men who were selected for their strength and sent to kill and die on the battlefield. Their \u201cyoung\u201d blood flowed into the earth as they caused the deaths of others. It quickly becomes clear the speaker does not agree with war, or at least this particular conflict. That being said, he still realizes the men had homes and families. They once had dreams and \u201cgames.\u201d In the final lines, he explains that the men remain in his memory because he too was there. He still remembers the trenches, the smells, and the sounds that meant men were about to die or had already.", "I AM singing to you\nSoft as a man with a dead child speaks;\nHard as a man in handcuffs,\nHeld where he cannot move:\nUnder the sun\nAre sixteen million men,\nChosen for shining teeth,\nSharp eyes, hard legs,\nAnd a running of young warm blood in their wrists.\nAnd a red juice runs on the green grass;\nAnd a red juice soaks the dark soil.\nAnd the sixteen million are killing. . . and killing\nand killing.\nI never forget them day or night:\nThey beat on my head for memory of them;\nThey pound on my heart and I cry back to them,\nTo their homes and women, dreams and games.\nI wake in the night and smell the trenches,\nAnd hear the low stir of sleepers in lines--\nSixteen million sleepers and pickets in the dark:\nSome of them long sleepers for always,\nSome of them tumbling to sleep to-morrow for always,\nFixed in the drag of the world's heartbreak,\nEating and drinking, toiling. . . on a long job of\nkilling.\nSixteen million men.", "http://carl-sandburg.com/killers.htm", 153, "A poem about idealizing sixteen million young men chosen to fight, kill, and die on the battlefield, their blood flowing into the earth as the speaker is remembering the trenches, smells, and sounds of war."], ["The Secret Heart by Robert Coffin", "Robert Coffin", "'The Secret Heart' by Robert Coffin is a narration of a man's fondest childhood memory of his father. In the poem, an invisible narrator tells of a man reminiscing about his childhood. As he slept as a boy, his father checked on him by the light of a match. The boy awoke to witness this tender moment. With the lit match in cupped hands, the glow projected the shape of a heart on his father's chest. This projection represented the love the father held for the child, a love this nightly action gave expression to.", "Across the years he could recall\nHis father one way best of all.\n\nIn the stillest hour of night\nThe boy awakened to a light.\n\nHalf in dreams, he saw his sire\nWith his great hands full of fire.\n\nThe man had struck a match to see\nIf his son slept peacefully.\n\nHe held his palms each side the spark\nHis love had kindled in the dark.\n\nHis two hands were curved apart\nIn the semblance of a heart.\n\nHe wore, it seemed to his small son,\nA bare heart on his hidden one,\n\nA heart that gave out such a glow\nNo son awake could bear to know.\n\nIt showed a look upon a face\nToo tender for the day to trace.\n\nOne instant, it lit all about,\nAnd then the secret heart went out.\n\nBut it shone long enough for one\nTo know that hands held up the sun.", "https://allpoetry.com/The-Secret-Heart", 129, "\"A poem about a boy awakening in the night to witness his father's secret love being revealed through the glowing shape of a heart projected from a cupped match onto his chest.\""], ["A Marriage by R. S. Thomas", "Ronald Stuart Thomas", "A Marriage by R. S. Thomas focuses on love and how love can endure over decades of life. Yet, at some point in everyone's life, death will come and end all human connections. It is this moment of death that Thomas focuses on within the poem, depicting Death as a device that finally ends his lifelong relationship. Time passes incredibly quickly in the poem, suggesting that even with all the time they have spent together, it still seems too short for Thomas, wanting more time with his lover.", "We met\nunder a shower\nof bird-notes.\nFifty years passed,\nlove's moment\nin a world in\nservitude to time.\nShe was young;\nI kissed with my eyes\nclosed and opened\nthem on her wrinkles.\n'Come,' said death,\nchoosing her as his\npartner for\nthe last dance, And she,\nwho in life\nhad done everything\nwith a bird's grace,\nopened her bill now\nfor the shedding\nof one sigh no\nheavier than a feather.", "https://hellopoetry.com/poem/70306/a-marriage/", 51, "A poem about a love enduring over decades of life, yet ultimately being severed by death, while time passes so quickly that even a lifetime spent together feels too short."], ["Who\u2019s for the Game? by Jessie Pope", "Jessie Pope", "Who's for the Game?' by Jessie Pope is a direct poem in which the speaker encourages men to join the military and fight in WWI. The speaker directly addresses the young men of her country, trying to goad them into showing their strength and bravery by joining the armed forces. She refers to war as a \u201cgame,\u201d one that's important for them to participate in and see if they can win.", "Who\u2019s for the game, the biggest that\u2019s played,\nThe red crashing game of a fight?\nWho\u2019ll grip and tackle the job unafraid?\nAnd who thinks he\u2019d rather sit tight?\nWho\u2019ll toe the line for the signal to \u2018Go!\u2019?\nWho\u2019ll give his country a hand?\nWho wants a turn to himself in the show?\nAnd who wants a seat in the stand?\nWho knows it won\u2019t be a picnic \u2013 not much-\nYet eagerly shoulders a gun?\nWho would much rather come back with a crutch\nThan lie low and be out of the fun?\nCome along, lads \u2013\nBut you\u2019ll come on all right \u2013\nFor there\u2019s only one course to pursue,\nYour country is up to her neck in a fight,\nAnd she\u2019s looking and calling for you.", "https://allpoetry.com/Who's-for-the-Game-", 112, "\"A poem about young men being goaded into showing their bravery by joining the military and fighting in a war being referred to as a 'game'.\""], ["spring again by Jes\u00fas Papoleto Mel\u00e9ndez", "Jes\u00fas Papoleto Mel\u00e9ndez", "spring again focuses on the Spring season of one year, with the characters in the poem filling time while waiting for Summer to come. It at once stresses how slow time passes, and how quickly the seasons can change. This focus on the progression of time demonstrates that although some moments are slow and some are fast, time never stops moving. The poem interacts with characters from the city, focusing on activities that the 'junkies' and 'ghetto musicians' do to pass the time within spring. For a poem which is addressing Spring, there is very little imagery of nature, instead of focusing more on the city and its occupants. There is certain melancholia within the poem, the people described being unable to change or escape their circumstances, stuck in a cycle of waiting for the next season forever. ", "spring came /\nthe same way winter left\n& summer will come\n& summer will leave; slowly\n/ when no one's expecting it\nwhen people are tired of waiting\nlike waiting for welfare checks /\na long wait/ a slow wait\nthe windows are open\nbut butterflies don't fly in\nto display a sense of love\n/ only housefly enter\nto sit on food & eat crumbs\n& dreams escape /\n& become stolen & lost & used\n& wasted & thrown away\n& dreamed anew\nthe junkies sit on the stoop\n& nod themselves into dreams\n/ maybe into the ones which escaped\n& stickball is played\n& on warm nights the ghetto musicians play\nour ghetto song\non garbage can tops & bang on empty coke bottles\n& sound real ch\u00e9vere\n:tomorrow\nthe junkies will sit on the stoop\n& nod themselves into dreams /\nstickball will be played /\nthe streets will become chalked\nwith 1st and 2nd & 3rd bases\nhop scotch will become a game\n& tops will spin on sidewalks /\n& everyone will anticipate summer.", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/56796/spring-again", 148, "\"A poem about city dwellers \u2014 junkies and ghetto musicians \u2014 passing time in Spring, caught in a melancholic cycle of waiting for the next season as time moves slowly yet inevitably forward.\""], ["Vultures by Chinua Achebe", "Chinua Achebe", "'Vultures' by Chinua Achebe describes the vultures in such a disparaging and grim fashion that could be construed as a metaphor for the people responsible for the atrocities in Belsen and in particular the \u201cCommandant\u201d. The first stanza is the longest part of the poem and it is not a coincidence. It is a metaphor for the commandant's predominant personality traits and this is why it dominates so much of the poem's content. In the third stanza, the scene with his child represents a far smaller portion of the poem and this is a metaphor for his spark of humanity. The form of this piece is very clever as it creates a grim image, creates a glimmer of hope in the second and third stanzas, and then ends on a dour note emphasizing the futility of the situation.", "In the greyness\nand drizzle of one despondent\ndawn unstirred by harbingers\nof sunbreak a vulture\nperching high on broken\nbone of a dead tree\nnestled close to his\nmate his smooth\nbashed-in head, a pebble\non a stem rooted in\na dump of gross\nfeathers, inclined affectionately\nto hers. Yesterday they picked\nthe eyes of a swollen\ncorpse in a water-logged\ntrench and ate the things in its bowel. Full\ngorged they chose their roost\nkeeping the hollowed remnant\nin easy range of cold\ntelescopic eyes ...\n\n\nStrange\nindeed how love in other\nways so particular\nwill pick a corner\nin that charnel-house\ntidy it and coil up there, perhaps\neven fall asleep - her face\nturned to the wall!\n\n...Thus the Commandant at Belsen\nCamp going home for\nthe day with fumes of\nhuman roast clinging\nrebelliously to his hairy\nnostrils will stop\nat the wayside sweet-shop\nand pick up a chocolate\nfor his tender offspring\nwaiting at home for Daddy's return ...\n\nPraise bounteous\nprovidence if you will\nthat grants even an ogre\na tiny glow-worm\ntenderness encapsulated\nin icy caverns of a cruel\nheart or else despair\nfor in every germ\nof that kindred love is\nlodged the perpetuity\nof evil.", "https://genius.com/Chinua-achebe-vultures-annotated", 156, "A poem about vultures serving as a metaphor for human atrocity, juxtaposing grim darkness with a fleeting glimmer of humanity before descending into futility."], ["The Sick Rose by William Blake", "William Blake", "\u2018The Sick Rose\u2019 by William Blake describes the loss of a woman\u2019s virginity through the metaphor of a rose and an invisible worm. The poem begins with the speaker telling the rose that she is sick. This sickness is caused by the \u201cinvisible worm.\u201d The phallic-shaped worm comes to the rose at night in the middle of \u201cthe howling storm.\u201d There is a real sense of danger and dread in these lines that only builds as the poem progresses and Blake makes use of enjambment. In the second stanza of \u2018The Sick Rose,\u2019 the worm finds the rose\u2019s bed. The rose is afflicted with the worm\u2019s \u201cdark secret love\u201d and has its life destroyed. The worm, which clearly represents a phallus, kills the rose\u2014the woman\u2019s, virginity.", "O Rose thou art sick.\nThe invisible worm,\nThat flies in the night\nIn the howling storm:\n\nHas found out thy bed\nOf crimson joy:\nAnd his dark secret love\nDoes thy life destroy.", "https://poemanalysis.com/william-blake/the-sick-rose/", 26, "A poem about an invisible worm destroying a rose through dark secret love, representing the loss of a woman's virginity."], ["After Auschwitz by Anne Sexton", "Anne Sexton", "\u2018After Auschwitz\u2019 is six stanzas long with stanzas numbering 8, 2, 8, 2, 12, 1 and there is no rhyme scheme. The poem is a reaction piece, written by a speaker that is filled with anger over the atrocities committed by the Nazis, and more specifically man, during the holocaust. She speaks about her anger, and how it fills her daily; that death does not care about what\u2019s happening and does not take those who really deserve it.\n\nShe spends the rest of the poem passing judgment on these men, deciding that they should no longer be worshiped like \u201ctemples\u201d or have any agency in their own lives, all in an attempt to stop something like this from happening again. The speaker ends the poem by hoping that God has not heard all she has said allowed, perhaps fearing she is becoming like the men she condemns.", "Anger,\nas black as a hook,\novertakes me.\nEach day,\neach Nazi\ntook, at 8:00 A.M., a baby\nand sauteed him for breakfast\nin his frying pan.\n\nAnd death looks on with a casual eye\nand picks at the dirt under his fingernail.\n\nMan is evil,\nI say aloud.\nMan is a flower\nthat should be burnt,\nI say aloud.\nMan\nis a bird full of mud,\nI say aloud.\n\nAnd death looks on with a casual eye\nand scratches his anus.\n\nMan with his small pink toes,\nwith his miraculous fingers\nis not a temple\nbut an outhouse,\nI say aloud.\nLet man never again raise his teacup.\nLet man never again write a book.\nLet man never again put on his shoe.\nLet man never again raise his eyes,\non a soft July night.\nNever. Never. Never. Never. Never.\nI say those things aloud.", "https://allpoetry.com/After-Auschwitz", 114, "\"A poem about a speaker filled with anger over the atrocities of the holocaust, passing judgment on those responsible while fearing that her own rage and condemnation may be transforming her into the very thing she is speaking against.\""], ["Tell Me a Story by Robert Penn Warren", "Robert Penn Warren", "'Tell Me a Story' by Robert Penn Warren describes how the speaker distances himself from the modern world as it left nothing for a person like him. This poem is divided into two parts. In the first part, the speaker shares one of his childhood memories. One day, he was in his native place in Kentucky. There he stood by a road in utter darkness. The sky was dark due to the absence of the moon as well as the stars. He only heard the sound of geese migrating northwards. In the next part, the speaker asks readers to tell him a story. Before they can start, he defines what should be the theme of the tale. It must encompass the theme of distances. In modernity, there is nothing left to be talked about. That's why he tells them to share a story that can rejuvenate his weary mind. It should be a story of delight, not filled with the ravages of modern time.", "[ A ]\n\nLong ago, in Kentucky, I, a boy, stood\nBy a dirt road, in first dark, and heard\nThe great geese hoot northward.\n\nI could not see them, there being no moon\nAnd the stars sparse. I heard them.\n\nI did not know what was happening in my heart.\n\nIt was the season before the elderberry blooms,\nTherefore they were going north.\n\nThe sound was passing northward.\n\n \n\n[ B ]\n\nTell me a story.\n\nIn this century, and moment, of mania,\nTell me a story.\n\nMake it a story of great distances, and starlight.\n\nThe name of the story will be Time,\nBut you must not pronounce its name.\n\nTell me a story of deep delight.", "https://poets.org/poem/tell-me-story", 101, "\"A poem about a speaker distancing himself from the modern world, seeking a story of delight and rejuvenation that encompasses themes of distance, contrasting with his memories of darkness and the sounds of migrating geese in his native childhood place.\""], ["Cargoes by John Masefield", "John Masefield", "'Cargoes' by John Masefield is an interesting poem about the history of cargo ships and the cargo that they transported. In the first stanza, the poet explores ancient ships and ports from the Bible and the various items they could've been transported from Ophir. These include apes, peacocks, and sandalwood. The second stanza brings in a Spanish galleon and the gemstones this particular type of ship would've carried. These two different periods in history are juxtaposed with one another as well as with the final. The poet describes a more contemporary, dirty, British ship that carries coal and cheap, uninteresting items.", "Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir,\nRowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,\nWith a cargo of ivory,\nAnd apes and peacocks,\nSandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.\n\nStately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,\nDipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,\nWith a cargo of diamonds,\nEmeralds, amethysts,\nTopazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores.\n\nDirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,\nButting through the Channel in the mad March days,\nWith a cargo of Tyne coal,\nRoad-rails, pig-lead,\nFirewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays", "https://web.cs.dal.ca/~johnston/poetry/cargoes.html", 72, "\"A poem about contrasting the grandeur of ancient and exotic cargo ships with the grim reality of a dirty, contemporary British vessel carrying coal and cheap goods.\""], ["Relic by Ted Hughes", "Ted Hughes", "'Relic' by Ted Hughes presents the \u201cjawbone\u201d as a relic of the sea. In the end, the poet constructs a metaphorical \u201ccenotaph\u201d with it. 'Relic' by Ted Hughes revolves around the \u201cjawbone\u201d that the poetic persona has found from the seashore. After gripping it in his hand, he looks around and comes across \u201ccrabs\u201d and \u201cdogfish\u201d lying dead on the shore. The scene depicts the cruelty of the sea that topples lives. In the second stanza, the poet thinks about the jaw that he is holding. The jaw was active at a time but now it's of no use. Here on the shore, it lies with shells, skulls, claws, and other useless things. In the last stanza, referring to the cruelty of the sea again the poet, at last, portrays that the jawbone in his hand \u201cis now cenotaph\u201d. As the poet writes about it and makes this useless piece of bone a lifetime existence in his poem.", "I found this jawbone at the sea's edge:\nThere, crabs, dogfish, broken by the breakers or tossed\nTo flap for half an hour and turn to a crust\nContinue the beginning. The deeps are cold:\nIn that darkness camaraderie does not hold.\nNothing touches but, clutching, devours. And the jaws,\nBefore they are satisfied or their stretched purpose\nSlacken, go down jaws; go gnawn bare. Jaws\nEat and are finished and the jawbone comes to the beach:\nThis is the sea's achievement; with shells,\nVerterbrae, claws, carapaces, skulls.\nTime in the sea eats its tail, thrives, casts these\nIndigestibles, the spars of purposes\nThat failed far from the surface. None grow rich\nIn the sea. This curved jawbone did not laugh\nBut gripped, gripped and is now a cenotaph.", "https://allpoetry.com/poem/8495331-Relic-by-Ted-Hughes", 113, "A poem about finding a jawbone on a seashore and witnessing the cruelty of the sea, transforming a useless relic into a lasting cenotaph."], ["what if a much of a which of a wind by E.E. cummings", "E.E. Cummings", "'what if a much of a which of a wind' by E.E. Cummings speaks on the destruction of the earth and the risk humankind poses to itself. The poem takes the reader through a series of three disasters. The first two are related to naturally occurring events, a tornado, and a blizzard. In the third stanza, the speaker introduces the reader to a human-made disaster that alludes to a nuclear apocalypse. Only humanity, the speaker asserts, is capable of produces a disaster from which there is no return.", "what if a much of a which of a wind\ngives truth to the summer's lie;\nbloodies with dizzying leaves the sun\nand yanks immortal stars awry?\nBlow king to beggar and queen to seem\n(blow friend to fiend:blow space to time)\n\u2014when skies are hanged and oceans drowned,\nthe single secret will still be man\n\nwhat if a keen of a lean wind flays\nscreaming hills with sleet and snow:\nstrangles valleys by ropes of thing\nand stifles forests in white ago?\nBlow hope to terror;blow seeing to blind\n(blow pity to envy and soul to mind)\n\u2014whose hearts are mountains, roots are trees,\nit's they shall cry hello to the spring\n\nwhat if a dawn of a doom of a dream\nbites this universe in two, \npeels forever out of his grave\nand sprinkles nowhere with me and you?\nBlow soon to never and never to twice\n(blow life to isn't: blow death to was)\n\u2014all nothing's only our hugest home;\nthe most who die,the more we live", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/153876/what-if-a-much-of-a-which-of-a-wind", 147, "\"A poem about the earth being destroyed by natural disasters and humanity's unique capacity for bringing about its own irreversible apocalypse.\""], ["I Saw From the Beach by Thomas Moore", "Thomas Moore", "'I Saw From the Beach' by Thomas Moore addresses life's passions and compares them, through a metaphor, to the changing tides. The poet begins by describing a boat on the water. It moves with the tide, beautifully and powerfully at first (in the morning). Then, when the speaker comes back later, the water is gone and the boat is still there. The soul, as symbolized through the boat, remains, but the passion, symbolized through the water, is gone. This is an unstoppable change but one that the speaker wishes the reverse anyway. He pleads to feel something of the passion of youth/morning again.", "I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining,\nA bark o'er the waters move gloriously on;\nI came when the sun o'er that beach was declining,\nThe bark was still there, but the waters were gone.\n\nAnd such is the fate of our life's early promise,\nSo passing the spring-tide of joy we have known;\nEach wave that we danced on at morning ebbs from us,\nAnd leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore alone.\n\nOh, who would not welcome that moment's returning\nWhen passion first waked a new life through his frame,\nAnd his soul, like the wood that grows precious in burning,\nGave out all its sweets to love's exquisite flame.", "poemhunter.com/poem/i-saw-from-the-beach/", 104, "A poem about the soul remaining while the passions of youth fade away like the changing tides, with the speaker pleading to feel that passionate morning tide once more."], ["At the Parrot House, Taronga Park by Vivian Smith", "Vivian Smith", "'At the Parrot House, Taronga Park' by Vivian Smith depicts birds and their interactions. The speaker begins the text by trying to convey how beautiful the birds in the parrot house are. It's hard for him to find the right images to describe their colors and what they make him think of. There is an interesting transition in the middle of the poem when the speaker moves from admiring the parrots to using personification to describe them. The poet uses human-specific interactions and emotions to describe the parrots in less than complimentary detail. The poem concludes with the poet noting that although the parrots looked beautiful, many negative things were going on.", "What images could yet suggest their range\nof tender colours, thick as old brocade,\nor shot silk or flowers on a dress\nwhere black and rose and lime seem to caress\nthe red that starts to shimmer as they fade?\nLike something half-remembered from a dream\nthey come from places we have never seen.\nThey chatter and they squawk and sometimes scream.\nHere the macaw clings at the rings to show\nthe young galahs talking as they feed\nwith feathers soft and pink as dawn on snow\nthat it too has a dry and dusky tongue.\nTheir murmuring embraces every need\nfrom languid vanity to wildest greed.\nIn the far corner sit two smoky crones\ntheir heads together in a kind of love.\nOne cleans the other\u2019s feathers while it moans.\nThe others seem to whisper behind fans\nwhile noble dandies gamble in a room\nasserting values everyone rejects.\nA lidded eye observes, and it reflects.\nThe peacocks still pretend they own the yard.\nFor all the softness, how the beaks are hard.", "https://poemanalysis.com/vivian-smith/at-the-parrot-house-taronga-park/", 150, "A poem about admiring the beautiful colors of parrots while discovering the negative interactions and emotions lurking beneath their stunning appearance."], ["I Say unto Waris Shah by Amrita Pritam", "Amrita Pritam", "Waris Shah Amrita Pritam in her 'I Say unto Waris Shah', depicts the effects of partition in Punjab and portrays the bloody chapters of the territorial division of India. The poetess is in a state of extreme sadness. She implores Waris Shah, her muse, to see what is happening in her beloved birthplace. Corpses are lying in the fields. Everything she sees has turned into red. The land of Heer\u2013Ranjha is playing holi with human blood. The partition of India is the root cause of all those evils. Humanity is at stake. The message of love and purity of compassion is lost from Punjab. The poetess hopes that the people of Punjab will listen to her lamentation and stop this nonsensical bloodshed.", "I say to Waris Shah today, speak from your grave And add a new page to your book of love\nOnce one daughter of Punjab wept, and you wrote your long saga; Today thousands weep, calling to you Waris Shah:\nArise, o friend of the afflicted; arise and see the state of Punjab, Corpses strewn on fields, and the Chenaab flowing with much blood.\nSomeone filled the five rivers with poison, And this same water now irrigates our soil.\nWhere was lost the flute, where the songs of love sounded? And all Ranjha's brothers forgotten to play the flute.\nBlood has rained on the soil, graves are oozing with blood, The princesses of love cry their hearts out in the graveyards.\nToday all the Quaido'ns have become the thieves of love and beauty, Where can we find another one like Waris Shah?\nWaris Shah! I say to you, speak from your grave And add a new page to your book of love.", "https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-ask-waris-shah-today/", 154, "\"A poem about lamenting the bloody devastation and loss of love and humanity that partition is bringing upon the land of Punjab.\""], ["The Trashpickers, Madison Street by Naomi Shihab Nye", "Naomi Shihab Nye", "In 'The Trashpickers, Madison Street,' Naomi Shihab Nye describes a scene from the early morning when trash pickers murmur while picking rags and sort the things that could be used further. At the beginning of the poem, readers can visualize the trash pickers carefully picking up all the trash one by one, checking inside each trashcan, and talking with each other while listing the things they find. It is astounding that some people see things thought of as \u201ctrash\u201d in a completely different light by others who pick up that castaway stuff. Old nails, old paper, crooked skillets, and more like objects find new importance having been picked up. Trash offers glimpses into someone's existence and simultaneously speaks a lot about the old owner. It also hints at the condition of the new owner who picks it up. Reading the last stanza, one can understand that the poem is not simply about trash pickers picking up trash. It has deeper layers where the poet observes the things well-off people leave behind, the lasting effect it has upon people and the earth, and how the poor people who pick up those trash stuff weave dreams around those rejected items.", "On the edge of dawn\u2019s pale eye,\nthe trashpickers are lifting the lid of every can,\npoking inside with bent hanger and stick.\nThey murmur in a language soft as rags.\nWhat have we here?\nTheir colorless overcoats drift and grow wings.\n\nThey pull a creaking wagon, tinfoil wads, knotted string,\nto the cave where sacraments of usefulness are performed.\nKneel to the triple weddings of an old nail.\nRejoice in the rebirth of envelopes.\nThe crooked skillet finds its first kingdom\non a shelf where nothing is new.\n\nThey dream small dreams, furry ones,\na swatch of velvet passed hand-to-hand.\nTheir hearts are compasses fixed to the ground\nand their love, more like moss than like fire", "http://tcsidewalks.blogspot.com/2012/02/sidewalk-poetry-20.html", 102, "\"A poem about trash pickers murmuring and sorting through discarded items in the early morning, weaving dreams around rejected objects that offer glimpses into the lives of those who left them behind.\""], ["In and Out of Time by Maya Angelou", "Maya Angelou", "'In and Out of Time' by Maya Angelou is a thoughtful poem about love, strife, and the dawn of a clearer future for two people. The speaker addresses a specific listener throughout this poem, someone who is likely their romantic partner. Or, at the very least, someone very close to them. They describe briefly the struggles that they went through to ensure that they created a future that was safe and clear for themselves and for their listener. The bulk of the poem is used to define the love between the two. It's a love that's existed since the beginning of time, the speaker says, and one that's going to last through any trials they might face. It's on this note that the poem ends.", "The sun has come.\nThe mist has gone.\nWe see in the distance...\nour long way home.\nI was always yours to have.\nYou were always mine.\nWe have loved each other in and out of time.\nWhen the first stone looked up at the blazing sun\nand the first tree struggled up from the forest floor\nI had always loved you more.\nYou freed your braids...\ngave your hair to the breeze.\nIt hummed like a hive of honey bees.\nI reached in the mass for the sweet honey comb there...\nMmmm... God how I love your hair.\nYou saw me bludgeoned by circumstance.\nLost, injured, hurt by chance.\nI screamed to the heavens... loudly screamed...\nTrying to change our nightmares into dreams...\nThe sun has come.\nThe mist has gone.\nWe see in the distance our long way home.\nI was always yours to have.\nYou were always mine.\nWe have loved each other in and out\nin and out\nin and out\nof time.", "https://www.poeticous.com/maya-angelou/in-and-out-of-time", 139, "\"A poem about two people defining their enduring love while navigating struggles and moving towards a clearer, safer future together.\""], ["The Vanity Of Wealth by Samuel Johnson", "Samuel Johnson", "The Vanity Of Wealth' by Samuel Johnson is a simple, yet impactful, poem that addresses what is important and unimportant in one's life. The poem is addressed to a specific listener who the speaker is trying to get through to in regards to what they value. Up until this point, money has been the controlling factor in their life and the speaker wants to change that. He emphasizes the inability of money to buy love and the impossibility to make a profit from selling friendship. The speaker encourages the listener to get out and enjoy life while they can because eventually, they will be too old to.", "No more thus brooding o'er yon heap,\nWith avarice painful vigils keep:\nStill unenjoy'd the present store,\nStill endless sighs are breathed for more.\nO! quit the shadow, catch the prize,\nWhich not all India's treasure buys!\nTo purchase with heaven has gold the power?\nCan gold remove the mortal hour?\nIn life can love be bought with gold?\nAre friendship's pleasures to be sold?\nNo! - all that's worth a wish - a thought,\nFair virtue gives unbribed, unbought,\nCease then on trash thy hopes to bind,\nLet noble views engage thy mind.\nWith science tread the wondrous way,\nOr learn the Muses' moral lay;\nIn social hours indulge thy soul,\nWhere mirth and temperance mix the bowl;\nTo virtuous love resign thy breast,\nAnd be, by blessing beauty, - bless'd.\nThus taste the feast by Nature spread,\nEre youth and all its joys are fled;\nCome taste with me the balm of life,\nSecure from pomp, and wealth, and strife.\nI boast whate'er for man was meant,\nIn health, and Stella, and content;\nAnd scorn! (oh! let that scorn be thine!)\nMere things of clay, that dig the mine.", "https://allpoetry.com/The-Vanity-of-Wealth", 163, "A poem about questioning the value of wealth by emphasizing how money cannot buy love or friendship, and encouraging the enjoyment of life before old age takes hold."], ["Inspection by Wilfred Owen", "Wilfred Owen", "'Inspection' takes place during a military parade. A private is singled out by Wilfred Owen, and a Sergeant, for having blood on his suit, although later he admits to Owen that the blood was his own. The poem begins directly with the conversation between a soldier and Owen's speaker. It seems he is the instructor of the parade. He is angry with a spot of blood on the soldier's uniform. Suddenly, the sergeant comes into the conversation and rebukes him for the misbehavior. The offender is confined in a camp as punishment. In the following stanzas, the poet features what the sergeant tells the speaker. He clarifies that blood is \u201cdirt\u201d to them. It hinders them from doing the main task they are entitled to do, which is spilling more blood. To do this task, they must be tidy enough, not bearing the stains of their past activities. Owen, pointing out that it is no excuse, is told by the soldier that the world itself doesn't like them being so alive, and that true justice will occur when they are all dead.", "\"You! What d'you mean by this?\" I rapped.\n\"You dare come on parade like this?\"\n\"Please, sir, it's -' ''Old yer mouth,\" the sergeant snapped.\n\"I takes 'is name, sir?\" - \"Please, and then dismiss.\"\nSome days 'confined to camp' he got,\nFor being 'dirty on parade'.\nHe told me, afterwards, the damned spot\nWas blood, his own. \"Well, blood is dirt,\" I said.\n\"Blood's dirt,\" he laughed, looking away\nFar off to where his wound had bled\nAnd almost merged for ever into clay.\n\"The world is washing out its stains,\" he said.\n\"It doesn't like our cheeks so red:\nYoung blood's its great objection.\nBut when we're duly white-washed, being dead,\nThe race will bear Field-Marshal God's inspection.\"", "https://www.thepoetryhour.com/poems/inspection", 104, "\"A poem about a soldier being reprimanded for having his own blood stain his uniform, exploring the bitter irony of an army demanding cleanliness while perpetually creating bloodshed, and a world that only accepts its soldiers once they are dead.\""], ["Apostate by L\u00e9onie Adams", "L\u00e9onie Adams", "'Apostate' by L\u00e9onie Adams describes the freedom a speaker sees in the joyful stars and how she aches to live as they do. The poem begins with the speaker stating that she is watching the stars and marveling in their movements. They are not out of control as humanity is, but gracefully \u201cthrobbing\u201d with \u201cjoy.\u201d She sees this as an ideal way to live. In the following lines, she explains how the stars have been able to pierce the darkness of the sky and still shine out for all to see. They have a power that is not controlled or regulated by any other than themselves. In the final section, the speaker wishes that she could live as the stars do\u2014 without masks to hide behind or rules to follow.", "From weariness I looked out on the stars\nAnd there beheld them, fixed in throbbing joy, Nor racked by such mad dance of moods as mars\nFor us each moment\u2019s grace with swift alloy. And as they pierced the heavens\u2019 serene deep\nAn envy of that one consummate part\nSwept me, who mock. Whether I laugh or weep,\nSome inner silences are at my heart.\nCold shame is mine for all the masks I wear,\nBelying that in me which shines and sings\nBefore Him, to face down man\u2019s alien stare\u2014\nA graceless puppet on unmeaning strings, I that looked out, and saw, and was at rest,\nStars, and faint wings, rose-etched along the west.", "https://poets.org/poem/apostate", 104, "A poem about a speaker marveling at the joyful freedom of the stars and aching to live as they do, unmasked and unbound by rules."], ["Dreams by Helen Hunt Jackson", "Helen Hunt Jackson", "\u2018Dreams\u2019 is a poem regarding how regretful memories of the past have a tendency to haunt us. Over a course of fourteen lines, Helen Hunt Jackson covers the negative effects that dreams have on our lives. She specifically targets how dreams often revive the sorrowful memories of our past and in a way, make us relive the event that we were trying desperately to forget. A driving point in her poem is that we will carry sadness with us until we die. The poem \u2018Dreams\u2019 is rich with imagery, and imagery is the strongest device Jackson uses to highlight the main point of her poem. Despite the fact that the poem is entitled Dreams, it does not focus on the general essence of dreams. Jackson explicitly only targets the negative effects that dreams often have when we are compelled to remember our past through them.\n\nDreams are generally seen as positive, motivating tools that most people look forward to. Dreams are a synonym for goals and aspirations. However, in her poem, Jackson describes dreams as experiences that highlight depression and gloom. The title Dreams can be perceived as an oxymoron, because Jackson means for it to contradict itself. The entire poem can be seen as satirical in nature, because the content contrasts strongly with the selected title, almost in a mocking tone.", "I dreamed that I ws dead and crossed the heavens,--\nHeavens after heavens with burning feet and swift,--\nAnd cried: \"O God, where art Thou?\" I left one\nOn earth, whose burden I would pray Thee lift.\"\n\nI was so dead I wondered at no thing,--\nNot even that the angels slowly turned\nTheir faces, speechless, as I hurried by\n(Beneath my feet the golden pavements burned);\n\nNor, at the first, that I could not find God,\nBecause the heavens stretched endlessly like space.\nAt last a terror siezed my very soul;\nI seemed alone in all the crowded place.\n\nThen, sudden, one compassionate cried out,\nThough like the rest his face from me he turned,\nAs I were one no angel might regard\n(Beneath my feet the golden pavements burned):\n\n\"No moew in heaven than earth will he find God\nWho does not know his loving mercy swift\nBut waits the moment consummate and ripe,\nEach burden, from each human soul to lift.\"\n\nThough I was dead, I died again for shame;\nLonely, to flee from heaven again I turned;\nThe ranks of angels looked away from me\n(Beneath my feet the golden pavements burned)", "poemhunter.com/poem/a-dream-5/", 172, "A poem about how dreams are haunting us with regretful and sorrowful memories of the past, compelling us to relive the experiences we are desperately trying to forget."], ["[A] Talisman by Marianne Moore", "Marianne Moore", "'Talisman' by Marianne Moore is a short, complex poem that speaks on a mysterious shipwreck the strange object found underneath it. The poem describes a grounded ship with its mast torn from its hull, as well as the shepherd who stumbled upon it. Under its wreckage, the shepherd found a strange seagull shaped jewel, a talisman with an unknown purpose.", "Under a splintered mast,\ntorn from ship and cast\nnear her hull,\na stumbling shepherd found\nembedded in the ground,\na sea-gull\nof lapis lazuli,\na scarab of the sea,\nwith wings spread\u2014\ncurling its coral feet,\nparting its beak to greet\nmen long dead.", "https://poets.org/poem/talisman", 33, "\"A poem about a shepherd discovering a mysterious seagull-shaped talisman beneath the wreckage of a grounded, broken ship.\""], ["And Death Shall Have No Dominion by Dylan Thomas", "Dylan Thomas", "And Death Shall Have No Dominion' is a magical look at the ways in which death controls mankind and the fact at even though it is powerful, it cannot control everything. Mankind has the power to stand up against any of the evils of death, and become unified through their moving to the next world. Death does not divide but brings together equally all those that lived apart. The second half of the poem focuses on brave and strong men standing up against the power of death and not breaking even through torture and the destruction of beautiful things. ", "And death shall have no dominion.\nDead men naked they shall be one\nWith the man in the wind and the west moon;\nWhen their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,\nThey shall have stars at elbow and foot;\nThough they go mad they shall be sane,\nThough they sink through the sea they shall rise again;\nThough lovers be lost love shall not;\nAnd death shall have no dominion.\n\nAnd death shall have no dominion.\nUnder the windings of the sea\nThey lying long shall not die windily;\nTwisting on racks when sinews give way,\nStrapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;\nFaith in their hands shall snap in two,\nAnd the unicorn evils run them through;\nSplit all ends up they shan't crack;\nAnd death shall have no dominion.\n\nAnd death shall have no dominion.\nNo more may gulls cry at their ears\nOr waves break loud on the seashores;\nWhere blew a flower may a flower no more\nLift its head to the blows of the rain;\nThough they be mad and dead as nails,\nHeads of the characters hammer through daisies;\nBreak in the sun till the sun breaks down,\nAnd death shall have no dominion.", "https://poets.org/poem/and-death-shall-have-no-dominion", 178, "\"A poem about mankind standing up against the power of death, refusing to be broken, and becoming unified through the journey to the next world.\""], ["Seal by Gillian Clarke", "Gillian Clarke", "'Seal' by Gillian Clarke it's all about motherhood depicted through the relationship and a mother and a baby seal. In the first part of the poem, the speaker describes how the mother seal's instincts pull her to her child for the first fourteen days after he's born. The baby seal feeds and takes all the nutrients he needs from her. But, after a brief period of time, the mother's other instincts take over, and the baby seal is left to fend for himself.", "When the milk-arrow stabs, she comes, water-fluent, down the long green miles.\n\nHer milk leaks into the sea -\n\nblue blossoming in an opal.\n\nThe pup lies patient in his cot of stone.\n\nThey meet with cries, caress as people do.\n\nShe lies down for his suckling,\n\nlifts him with a flipper from the sea's reach \n\nwhen the tide fills his throat with salt.\n\nThis is the fourteenth day.\n\nIn two days, no bitch-head will break the brilliance listening for baby-cries.\n\nDown in the thunder of that other country, the bulls are calling\n\nand her uterus is empty.\n\nAlone and hungering in his fallen shawl,\n\nHe'll nuzzle the Atlantic and be gone.\n\nIf that day's still, his moult will lie a gleaming ring on the sand,\n\nlike the noose she slips on the sea.", "reddit.com/r/Poetry/comments/qrpj23/poem_seal_by_gillian_clarke/", 119, "\"A poem about a mother seal nurturing her young before instinct pulls her away, leaving him to survive alone.\""], ["Requiem for the Croppies by Seamus Heaney", "Seamus Heaney", "Requiem for the Croppies' by Seamus Heaney describes the tragedy of the Irish Rebellion of 1798 from the perspective of a soldier. 'Requiem for the Croppies' begins with the speaker describing how he, and his companions have \u201cgreatcoats full of barley.\u201d They are on the move, or as he says, \u201con the run\u201d. There is no time for them to strike camp, and there are also no kitchens for them to cook in. The speaker implies that they are being attacked and are forced to flee in their own lands. He is hoping to draw the reader's attention to the aggressive nature of the British forces. These lines also suggest that the rebellion is not as organized as it could be. In the second quatrain, the speaker notes that the soldiers do everything they can to fight off the British. Although they are disorganized, they continually try new tactics. These are not ultimately successful as the final lines discuss the slaughter of these men at Vinegar Hill. The poem ends on a hopeful note, suggesting that the men, or others like them, would in the future once more take up the cause and fight back against the oppressive British regime. ", "The pockets of our greatcoats full of barley...\nNo kitchens on the run, no striking camp...\nWe moved quick and sudden in our own country.\nThe priest lay behind ditches with the tramp.\nA people hardly marching... on the hike...\nWe found new tactics happening each day:\nWe'd cut through reins and rider with the pike\nAnd stampede cattle into infantry,\nThen retreat through hedges where cavalry must be thrown.\nUntil... on Vinegar Hill... the final conclave.\nTerraced thousands died, shaking scythes at cannon.\nThe hillside blushed, soaked in our broken wave.\nThey buried us without shroud or coffin\nAnd in August... the barley grew up out of our grave.", "http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/seamus_heaney/poems/12705", 96, "\"A poem about Irish rebels fighting and dying in the 1798 Rebellion, carrying barley in their greatcoats as they are fleeing, struggling, and falling at Vinegar Hill, yet sowing the seeds of future resistance.\""], ["A Psalm of Life by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow", "Henry Wadsworth Longfellow", "'A Psalm of Life' by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow describes the purpose of life, and how one should handle the sorrow and struggles along the way. The poem begins with the speaker contradicting a listener who wants to explain life to him as a matter of number and figures. The rest of the poem is dedicated to the speaker trying to prove this unknown person wrong. He describes the way in which he believes that no matter what death brings, the soul will never be destroyed. Because of this, it is important to do all one can in life to make one's situation, and that of others, better. The speaker comes to the conclusion that he, and the listener, must be prepared at any time for death, strife, or any trouble thrown at them. They must face life, and make the best of every day.", "What The Heart Of The Young Man Said To The Psalmist.\nTell me not, in mournful numbers,\nLife is but an empty dream!\nFor the soul is dead that slumbers,\nAnd things are not what they seem.\nLife is real! Life is earnest!\nAnd the grave is not its goal;\nDust thou art, to dust returnest,\nWas not spoken of the soul.\nNot enjoyment, and not sorrow,\nIs our destined end or way;\nBut to act, that each to-morrow\nFind us farther than to-day.\nArt is long, and Time is fleeting,\nAnd our hearts, though stout and brave,\nStill, like muffled drums, are beating\nFuneral marches to the grave.\nIn the world\u2019s broad field of battle,\nIn the bivouac of Life,\nBe not like dumb, driven cattle!\nBe a hero in the strife!\nTrust no Future, howe\u2019er pleasant!\nLet the dead Past bury its dead!\nAct,\u2014 act in the living Present!\nHeart within, and God o\u2019erhead!\nLives of great men all remind us\nWe can make our lives sublime,\nAnd, departing, leave behind us\nFootprints on the sands of time;\nFootprints, that perhaps another,\nSailing o\u2019er life\u2019s solemn main,\nA forlorn and shipwrecked brother,\nSeeing, shall take heart again.\nLet us, then, be up and doing,\nWith a heart for any fate;\nStill achieving, still pursuing,\nLearn to labor and to wait.", "poetryfoundation.org/poems/44644/a-psalm-of-life", 185, "A poem about exploring the purpose of life and urging the striving to make the most of every day, no matter the struggles or inevitability of death along the way."], ["Are You Looking For That Poet? by Vihang Naik", "Vihang Naik", "'Are You Looking For That Poet?' by Vihang Naik is a straightforward discussion of the honest, human role of poets in contemporary society. The poem takes the reader through the traditional imagery associated with poets and poetry. They are usually considered to be transcendent and all-knowing as if oracles. This is not the case though. They are subject to the same irritations and stresses as all human beings. They might not, the speaker warns, have all the answers the \u201cReader\u201d is looking for.", "In this age , dear Reader\n\ndo not look for a poet\n\n \n\nwho would tell you\n\nthe secrets of a mermaid.\n\n \n\nThe Oceanic surf\n\nmay not have that meaning.\n\nThere are no Oracles\n\nof Signs and Judgments.\n\n \n\nA message is the same\n\nregarding roses and poses\n\nthat tomorrow will be dying.\n\n \n\nPerhaps the muse has left him.\n\nHe may not be among \n\nclouds singing a song\n\nof birds and bees.\n\n \n\nNowadays\n\nhe is a man like\n\nyou and me.\n\n \n\nA voice hooting in the traffic\n\nwith stale words and tired tongue .", "https://gopikottoor.wixsite.com/ugf-july-sept-2015/poetry-home", 79, "A poem about challenging the transcendent, oracle-like imagery traditionally associated with poets by exploring their honest, human role in contemporary society and warning readers that poets are subject to the same irritations and stresses as all human beings and may not have all the answers."], ["The Dead by Billy Collins", "Billy Collins", "The Dead' by Billy Collins draws attention to the feelings of the dead for the living in a lucid language. In this poem, Collins shows how the dead are ever-watching on the moves of human beings down on earth. They, perhaps, disdainfully evaluate them by their mundane daily activities. While the living does their jobs, they glide through the river of eternity above and keep an eye on them through the glass-bottom boats of heaven. At times, when the living feels drowsy, lulled by the humming sound of nature, they wait for the permanent closure of their eyes. ", "The dead are always looking down on us, they say,\nwhile we are putting on our shoes or making a sandwich,\nthey are looking down through the glass-bottom boats of heaven\nas they row themselves slowly through eternity.\n\nThey watch the tops of our heads moving below on earth,\nand when we lie down in a field or on a couch,\ndrugged perhaps by the hum of a warm afternoon,\nthey think we are looking back at them,\n\nwhich makes them lift their oars and fall silent\nand wait, like parents, for us to close our eyes.", "https://thedewdrop.org/2021/06/02/billy-collins-the-dead/", 87, "\"A poem about the dead watching over the living from eternity, disdainfully observing their mundane activities and waiting for the moment their eyes will permanently close.\""], ["Plenty by Isobel Dixon", "Isobel Dixon", "'Plenty' by Isobel Dixon describes the relationships a speaker had while she was a child and how she interprets them now that she is an adult. The poem begins with the speaker informing the reader that she had four siblings and they all tormented their mother. The family lived in poverty, without enough water to run a full bath. Although the speaker was always present in the house, she didn't realize that it was due to money concerns that her mother was never truly happy. The speaker states that all the children thought their mother was mean. Now that she is older, the speaker is able to look back on her life and know why her mother acted the way she did. She misses the interactions with all of her family members and still carries a bit of guilt for what she has now, compared to then, when taking a full bubble bath.", "When I was young and there were five of us,\nall running riot to my mother\u2019s quiet despair,\nour old enamel tub, age-stained and pocked\nupon its griffin claws, was never full.\nSuch plenty was too dear in our expanse of drought\nwhere dams leaked dry and windmills stalled.\nLike Mommy\u2019s smile. Her lips stretched back\nand anchored down, in anger at some fault \u2013\nof mine, I thought \u2013 not knowing then\nit was a clasp to keep us all from chaos.\nShe saw it always, snapping locks and straps,\nthe spilling: sums and worries, shopping lists\nfor aspirin, porridge, petrol, bread.\nEven the toilet paper counted,\nand each month was weeks too long.\nHer mouth a lid clamped hard on this.\nWe thought her mean. Skipped chores,\nswiped biscuits \u2013 best of all\nwhen she was out of earshot\nstole another precious inch\nup to our chests, such lovely sin,\nlolling luxuriant in secret warmth\ndisgorged from fat brass taps,\nour old compliant co-conspirators.\nNow bubbles lap my chin. I am a sybarite.\nThe shower\u2019s a hot cascade\nand water\u2019s plentiful, to excess, almost, here.\nI leave the heating on.\nAnd miss my scattered sisters,\nall those bathroom squabbles and, at last,\nmy mother\u2019s smile, loosed from the bonds\nof lean, dry times and our long childhood.", "https://www.poetryinternational.com/en/poets-poems/poems/poem/103-5436_PLENTY", 187, "\"A poem about a speaker reflecting on her childhood poverty and her mother's unhappiness, feeling guilt over her current abundance.\""], ["The Net by Julie O\u2019Callaghan", "Julie O'Callaghan", "The Net' by Julie O'Callaghan talks about the old-school reunion and the poet's strong desire to \u201cslip through\u201d it. 'The Net' by Julie O'Callaghan talks about the poet's school reunion party. The class committee of the school is finding the students of the old batch for inviting them to the reunion at a \u201chotel ballroom/ festooned with 70s paraphernalia\u201d. The poet somehow wants to avoid such things. She removes her virtual profile from the \u201ccyber-space\u201d and wants to slip through the net of social bonding with her old school friends. One of her school friends, her locker partner, has a desire to go there. But, the poet is detached from it. She tries to stay away from the reunion anyhow as she had always done in her school days.", "I am the Lost Classmate\nbeing hunted down the superhighways\nand byways of infinite cyber-space.\nHow long can I evade the class committee\nsearching for my lost self?\n\nI watch the list\nof Found Classmates\ngrow by the month\nCorralled into a hotel ballroom\nfestooned with 70s paraphernalia,\n\nbombarded with atmospheric\nhit tunes, the Captured Classmates\nfrom Sullivan High School\nwill celebrate thirty years\nof freedom from each other.\n\nI peek at the message board:\nmy locker partner,\nout in California, looks forward\nto being reunited with\nher old school chums.\n\nWearing a disguise, I calculate\nthe number of months left\nfor me to do what I do best,\nwhat I\u2019ve always done:\nslip through the net.", "https://observaionsofexistence.wordpress.com/tag/poems/", 92, "\"A poem about a woman trying to slip through the net of her school reunion, detaching herself from the social bonds of her past while her old classmates eagerly seek each other out.\""], ["To Helen by Edgar Allan Poe", "Edgar Allan Poe", "'To Helen' by Edgar Allan Poe is an allusion-rich poem that depicts the poet's love for an older woman through the image of Helen of Troy. The speaker compares the mother of a close friend, Jane Stanard, to Helen throughout the three stanzas of 'To Helen'. He speaks of her beauty and compares her to various figures from mythology. She is a guiding light to a weary traveling, the embodiment of the glory of Greece, and the home that all travelers are trying to get back to.", "Helen, thy beauty is to me\nLike those Nic\u00e9an barks of yore,\nThat gently, o'er a perfumed sea,\nThe weary, way-worn wanderer bore\nTo his own native shore.\nOn desperate seas long wont to roam,\nThy hyacinth hair, thy classic face,\nThy Naiad airs have brought me home\nTo the glory that was Greece, And the grandeur that was Rome.\nLo! in yon brilliant window-niche\nHow statue-like I see thee stand,\nThe agate lamp within thy hand!\nAh, Psyche, from the regions which\nAre Holy-Land!", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44888/to-helen", 71, "\"A poem about a radiant woman being revered as a mythological guiding light, embodying ancient glory and representing the beauty and home that weary travelers are forever seeking.\""], ["Dream Boogie by Langston Hughes", "Langston Hughes", "'Dream Boogie' by Langston Hughes is a short, effective poem about jazz music and the pain of those who create it. The poem contains the words of two people, one who is trying to discuss the inspiration and pain behind jazz music and another who only wants to understand it for its happy beat. One is a surface level, and one is a more profound interpretation.", "Good morning, daddy!\nAin\u2019t you heard\nThe boogie-woogie rumble\nOf a dream deferred?\nListen closely:\nYou\u2019ll hear their feet\nBeating out and beating out a\u2014\nYou think\nIt\u2019s a happy beat?\nListen to it closely:\nAin\u2019t you heard\nsomething underneath\nlike a\u2014\nWhat did I say?\nSure,\nI\u2019m happy!\nTake it away!\nHey, pop!\nRe-bop!\nMop!\nY-e-a-h!", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/151091/dream-boogie", 36, "\"A poem about jazz music's joyful beat concealing the deeper pain and inspiration driving those who are creating it.\""], ["Sweet Rose of Virtue by William Dunbar", "William Dunbar", "'Sweet Rose of Virtue' by William Dunbar describes the changed feelings of a speaker who no longer understands a woman he used to love. The poem begins with the speaker professing his love for the listener by listing off her attributes. He has, in the past, seen her as being virtuous, gentle, and sweet. She was full of life and beauty that he loved and appreciated. Something has happened now though and she has become \u201cmerciless.\u201d In the next section of the poem, the speaker describes following her into her garden and seeing her beautiful flowers. On top of the beauty is something poor-smelling, rue. The poem concludes with the speaker declaring the woman dead. It is unclear if she has in fact died or if he is so upset by the change in her that he has decided she is dead. Explore more poems from William Dunbar.", "Sweet rose of virtue and of gentleness,\ndelightful lily of youthful wantonness,\nrichest in bounty and in beauty clear\nand in every virtue that is held most dear\u2015\nexcept only that you are merciless.\n\nInto your garden, today, I followed you;\nthere I saw flowers of freshest hue,\nboth white and red, delightful to see,\nand wholesome herbs, waving resplendently\u2015\nyet nowhere, one leaf or flower of rue.\n\nI fear that March with his last arctic blast\nhas slain my fair rose of pallid and gentle cast,\nwhose piteous death does my heart such pain\nthat, if I could, I would compose her roots again\u2015\nso comforting her bowering leaves have been.", "poemhunter.com/poem/sweet-rose-of-virtue/", 97, "\"A poem about a speaker professing love for a once-virtuous and beautiful woman, following her into her garden, and ultimately declaring her dead after she becomes merciless and changed beyond recognition.\""], ["The Long Hill by Sara Teasdale", "Sara Teasdale", "Climbing her metaphorical hill, The Long Hill by Sara Teasdale focuses on the uncertainty about when one 'peaks' in life. Teasdale cannot see ahead or behind her, and is therefore disappointed to realize that she 'passed the crest' of her life 'a while ago'. The poet suggests that there is a moment in life when we all reach our 'peak', with everything else just 'going down'. Teasdale's attitude to life is depressing, but hauntingly realistic.", "I must have passed the crest a while ago\nAnd now I am going down.\nStrange to have crossed the crest and not to know\u2014\nBut the brambles were always catching the hem of my gown.\nAll the morning I thought how proud it would be\nTo stand there straight as a queen\u2014\nWrapped in the wind and the sun, with the world under me.\nBut the air was dull, there was little I could have seen.\nIt was nearly level along the beaten track\nAnd the brambles caught in my gown\u2014\nBut it\u2019s no use now to think of turning back,\nThe rest of the way will be only going down.", "poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/55806/the-long-hill-56d237bcb54a0", 100, "\"A poem about a person climbing a metaphorical hill of life, realising with disappointment that they have already passed their peak and are now only going down.\""], ["Air Raid by Chinua Achebe", "Chinua Achebe", "'Air Raid' by Chinua Achebe relates the events of the Nigerian Civil War from a civilian's point of view. 'Air Raid' has a rapid-fire opening. The poem immediately takes us to the war setting, where aircraft are literally reigning death on civilians. It doesn't mellow out in the second stanza. In fact, the poem brings us closer to the war using a mundane scenario of friends about to greet each other before one of them is sliced in half. Regardless, 'Air Raid' attempts to dissolve tension at its end by including dark humor. As the speaker says, the dead friend has other worries now than his friendly greeting.", "It comes so quickly\nthe bird of death\nfrom evil forests of Soviet technology\nA man crossing the road\nto greet a friend\nis much too slow.\nHis friend cut in halves\nhas other worries now\nthan a friendly handshake\nat noon.", "https://hursandryder.wordpress.com/2019/06/04/air-raid/", 32, "\"A poem about civilians experiencing the devastating chaos of war, where death strikes suddenly amidst ordinary life, leaving dark humor as the only solace.\""], ["The Old Maid by Sara Teasdale", "Sara Teasdale", "The Old Maid by Sara Teasdale begins with Teasdale and her lover driving in a 'Broadway car', together in the seats. Outside the window, they see an old woman, which bares incredibly resemblance to Teasdale herself. Teasdale looks at the features of the woman without love, her body seems to have withered away from lack of care. Although there are similarities between Teasdale and the old maid, Teasdale has had love in her life and is therefore healthy. The poem emphasizes the importance of love, suggesting it can physically make people healthier and happier. Knowing she has been in love, Teasdale is glad to realize that she will 'never be' this woman who looks so physically similar to her.", "I saw her in a Broadway car,\nThe woman I might grow to be;\nI felt my lover look at her\nAnd then turn suddenly to me.\n\nHer hair was dull and drew no light\nAnd yet its color was as mine;\nHer eyes were strangely like my eyes\nTho' love had never made them shine.\n\nHer body was a thing grown thin,\nHungry for love that never came;\nHer soul was frozen in the dark\nUnwarmed forever by love's flame.\n\nI felt my lover look at her\nAnd then turn suddenly to me, \u2014\nHis eyes were magic to defy\nThe woman I shall never be.", "poetryfoundation.org/poems/46008/the-old-maid", 91, "\"A poem about a woman riding with her lover, observing an old maid who physically mirrors her, and feeling grateful for the love that separates their fates.\""], ["American Poetry by Louis Simpson", "Louis Simpson", "'American Poetry' by Louis Simpson invests life into poetry and portrays it as a gigantic creature able to devour a great number of subjects. This piece begins with a god-like description of poetry in America. Simpson invests the idea with the ability to digest several topics. These include rubber, coal, uranium, moons, and most importantly, other poems. In the next stanza, the speaker talks about the range of this creature. It has the ability to reach distant regions. Besides, it aptly portrays human aspirations, pains, and hopes.", "Whatever it is, it must have\nA stomach that can digest\nRubber, coal, uranium, moons, poems.\n \nLike the shark it contains a shoe.\nIt must swim for miles through the desert\nUttering cries that are almost human.", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/54197/american-poetry", 32, "\"A poem about poetry as a vast, living creature devouring subjects ranging from material goods to human aspirations, pains, and hopes.\""], ["Pomegranate by D. H. Lawrence", "D.H. Lawrence", "Pomegranate by D. H. Lawrence begins by directly questioning the reader's authority on right and 'wrong'. The start of the poem is strange, Lawrence's use of the direct address seemingly angry and pointed. Considering this is a poem about love, it is only right that Lawrence draws upon further strong emotions, dictating to the reader that he will be telling the story, no one else. How he decides to live his life is up to him, 'I am not wrong'. Lawrence takes us on a journey around three cities, 'Syracuse', 'Venice', and 'Tuscany' in order to compare the differing Pomegranates that he finds in each of the locations. This symbol of the pomegranate can be understood as a metaphor for love, Lawrence connecting the red heart and the deep red color of the pomegranate. The final image of the poem focuses on how Lawrence 'prefer[s] my heart to be broken', as in line with a pomegranate, a fissure allows for one to see 'within the crack'.", "You tell me I am wrong.\nWho are you, who is anybody to tell me I am wrong?\nI am not wrong.\nIn Syracuse, rock left bare by the viciousness of Greek women,\nNo doubt you have forgotten the pomegranate trees in flower,\nOh so red, and such a lot of them.\nWhereas at Venice,\nAbhorrent, green, slippery city\nWhose Doges were old, and had ancient eyes,\nIn the dense foliage of the inner garden\nPomegranates like bright green stone,\nAnd barbed, barbed with a crown.\nOh, crown of spiked green metal\nActually growing!\nNow, in Tuscany,\nPomegranates to warm your hands at;\nAnd crowns, kingly, generous, tilting crowns\nOver the left eyebrow.\nAnd, if you dare, the fissure!\nDo you mean to tell me you will see no fissure?\nDo you prefer to look on the plain side?\nFor all that, the setting suns are open.\nThe end cracks open with the beginning:\nRosy, tender, glittering within the fissure.\nDo you mean to tell me there should be no fissure?\nNo glittering, compact drops of dawn?\nDo you mean it is wrong, the gold-filmed skin, integument,\nshown ruptured?\nFor my part, I prefer my heart to be broken.\nIt is so lovely, dawn-kaleidoscopic within the crack.", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/148466/pomegranate-5bec49e88e4ca", 177, "A poem about preferring a broken heart, comparing the pomegranate's red, cracked interior across three cities as a metaphor for love's deeper truths."], ["Childhood by Markus Natten", "Markus Natten", "Childhood' Markus Natten presents the concept of childhood and he questions about its abrupt departure from his life. 'Childhood' by Markus Natten is a subjective poem. Thus, at the beginning of each stanza Natten constantly asks himself, \u201cWhen did my childhood go?\u201d He is confused about when he ceased to be a child. As an adult, he feels dejected to think about the loss of innocence in him. Those things which once amused him like the thoughts of \u201cHell and Heaven\u201d, are now faraway dreams. Everything has changed around him. His parents don't love him in the way they did before. The poet has become egocentric. He only thinks about himself, unlike a child. Presently, he is only left with his musings on childhood. He thinks childhood might have gone to a distant land. At last, he gets his answer after seeing an infant's face. The sight gives him a sense of relief to think that it has gone nowhere.", "When did my childhood go?\nWas it the day I ceased to be eleven,\nWas it the time I realised that Hell and Heaven,\nCould not be found in Geography,\nAnd therefore could not be,\nWas that the day!\nWhen did my childhood go?\nWas it the time I realised that adults were not all they seemed to be,\nThey talked of love and preached of love,\nBut did not act so lovingly,\nWas that the day!\nWhen did my childhood go?\nWas it when I found my mind was really mine,\nTo use whichever way I choose,\nProducing thoughts that were not those of other people\nBut my own, and mine alone\nWas that the day!\nWhere did my childhood go?\nIt went to some forgotten place,\nThat\u2019s hidden in an infant\u2019s face, That\u2019s all I know.", "https://www.ssgopalganj.in/online/Class%20XI/Eng/Hornbill/ch14.pdf", 118, "A poem about a person questioning when their childhood departed, losing innocence and unconditional love, while coming to realize through an infant's face that childhood never truly disappears."], ["Heart and Mind by Edith Sitwell", "Edith Sitwell", "\u2018Heart and Mind\u2019 was written in 1944. Edith Sitwell\u2019s best-known work is the one produced during the Second World War. Most of her work focuses on themes such as mortality, time, consciousness, and love. \u2018Heart and Mind\u2019, particularly, explores the passion and its difference from the traditional idea of true love. Moreover, the poem considers physical and spiritual existence to question this idea of love and mortality.\n\nThe poem is written in free verse form. It has four stanzas with eight, five, four, and five lines respectively. As a free verse poem, \u2018Heart and Mind\u2019 doesn\u2019t have a particular rhyme scheme. Nevertheless, enjambment can be read in the poem, and there is a great use of allegorical figures. The tone of \u2018Heart and Mind\u2019 is reflective and it has a surreal and fantastical mood.", "SAID the Lion to the Lioness - 'When you are amber dust, -\nNo more a raging fire like the heat of the Sun\n(No liking but all lust) -\nRemember still the flowering of the amber blood and bone,\nThe rippling of bright muscles like a sea,\nRemember the rose-prickles of bright paws\n\n\nThough we shall mate no more\nTill the fire of that sun the heart and the moon-cold bone are one.'\n\n\nSaid the Skeleton lying upon the sands of Time -\n'The great gold planet that is the mourning heat of the Sun\nIs greater than all gold, more powerful\nThan the tawny body of a Lion that fire consumes\nLike all that grows or leaps...so is the heart\n\n\nMore powerful than all dust. Once I was Hercules\nOr Samson, strong as the pillars of the seas:\nBut the flames of the heart consumed me, and the mind\nIs but a foolish wind.'\n\n\nSaid the Sun to the Moon - 'When you are but a lonely white crone,\nAnd I, a dead King in my golden armour somewhere in a dark wood,\nRemember only this of our hopeless love\nThat never till Time is done\nWill the fire of the heart and the fire of the mind be one.'", "https://www.poetrybyheart.org.uk/poems/heart-and-mind", 190, "\"A poem about questioning the nature of true love and mortality by exploring the contrast between passion and spiritual existence through allegorical figures in a reflective and surreal tone.\""], ["Spring and Fall by Gerard Manley Hopkins", "Gerard Manley Hopkins", "\u2018Spring and Fall\u2019 by Gerard Manley Hopkins uses a unique rhyme scheme and the concept of nature\u2019s demise as a representation of something much deeper. In this one-stanza work, Hopkins utilizes the reaction of a young girl named Margaret to express a deep-rooted fear that humans carry throughout their lives, expressly that of their own mortality. What seems like a simple account of a girl \u201cgrieving\u201d over trees losing their \u201c[l]eaves\u201d as summer months leading into the autumn season is eventually noted to have a much greater meaning. That meaning, as Hopkins notes in the final line of the poem, is that Margaret is \u201cmourn[ing]\u201d the passage of her own life, even though she is not mature enough to grasp the notion.", "to a young child\nM\u00e1rgar\u00e9t, \u00e1re you gr\u00edeving\nOver Goldengrove unleaving?\nLe\u00e1ves like the things of man, you\nWith your fresh thoughts care for, can you?\nAh! \u00e1s the heart grows older\nIt will come to such sights colder\nBy and by, nor spare a sigh\nThough worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;\nAnd yet you w\u00edll weep and know why.\nNow no matter, child, the name:\nS\u00f3rrow\u2019s spr\u00edngs \u00e1re the same.\nNor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed\nWhat heart heard of, ghost guessed:\nIt \u00eds the blight man was born for,\nIt is Margaret you mourn for.", "poetryfoundation.org/poems/44400/spring-and-fall", 82, "\"A poem about a young girl grieving over falling leaves, unknowingly mourning her own mortality.\""], ["Life is Fine by Langston Hughes", "Langston Hughes", "Form and Tone 'Life is Fine' is free verse and is separated into 9 stanzas. There is a consistent pattern with two quatrains being followed by a single line. The singular line, whilst different every time follows a similar pattern. Almost acting in the way you would expect a refrain to act. In each quatrain, the second and fourth lines rhyme with one another. This gives the poem an unexpected and playful feel despite being a bit gloomy in its content. The poem comes across as tongue-in-cheek.", "I went down to the river,\nI set down on the bank.\nI tried to think but couldn't,\nSo I jumped in and sank.\nI came up once and hollered!\nI came up twice and cried!\nIf that water hadn't a-been so cold\nI might've sunk and died.\nBut it was Cold in that water! It was cold!\nI took the elevator\nSixteen floors above the ground.\nI thought about my baby\nAnd thought I would jump down.\nI stood there and I hollered!\nI stood there and I cried!\nIf it hadn't a-been so high\nI might've jumped and died.\nBut it was High up there! It was high!\nSo since I'm still here livin',\nI guess I will live on.\nI could've died for love\u2014\nBut for livin' I was born\nThough you may hear me holler,\nAnd you may see me cry\u2014\nI'll be dogged, sweet baby,\nIf you gonna see me die.\nLife is fine! Fine as wine! Life is fine!", "https://poets.org/poem/life-fine", 138, "\"A poem about life playing between gloom and lightness, using a playful, tongue-in-cheek structure to refrain from taking its dark content too seriously.\""], ["Sonnet 16 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning", "Elizabeth Barrett Browning", "'Sonnet 16' by Elizabeth Barrett Browning is a love sonnet dedicated to the poet's future happiness. In the first part of the poem, the speaker declares that with her beloved's love, she can overcome anything. She knows that he is going to protect her and help her live a happier life. As the sonnet progresses, the poet states that she is ready to dedicate herself to her newfound happiness and escape the sorrow of her past.", "And yet, because thou overcomest so,\nBecause thou art more noble and like a king,\nThou canst prevail against my fears and fling\nThy purple round me, till my heart shall grow\nToo close against thine heart henceforth to know\nHow it shook when alone. Why, conquering\nMay prove as lordly and complete a thing\nIn lifting upward, as in crushing low!\nAnd as a vanquished soldier yields his sword\nTo one who lifts him from the bloody earth,\nEven so, Beloved, I at last record,\nHere ends my strife. If thou invite me forth,\nI rise above abasement at the word.\nMake thy love larger to enlarge my worth.", "https://www.best-poems.net/elizabeth_barrett_browning/sonnet_16_and_yet_because_thou_overcomest_so.html", 96, "A poem about a speaker dedicating herself to newfound love and happiness, overcoming past sorrow with the protection of her beloved."], ["Maiden Name by Philip Larkin", "Philip Larkin", "'Maiden Name' by Philip Larkin contains Larkin's own opinions about marriage and how it consumed the identity of a close friend. The poem begins with the speaker addressing the listener as \u201cyou.\u201d This person has recently gotten married and cast off their maiden name. Now, they go by something different. With the alteration of their name, they have severed all ties to the past. The person Larkin knew, the young beautiful girl, is gone. All he has left are the memories. In the next lines, Larkin describes how the listener's maiden name is lost to her. Everything she used to own with her old name on it has been discarded. As if acting negligently, she has thrown it all away. The final stanza describes in detail how the speaker takes comfort in her old name. It still exists but now it only represents memories. There, within the past, he is able to commune with the girl he knew before.", "Marrying left your maiden name disused.\nIts five light sounds no longer mean your face,\nYour voice, and all your variants of grace;\nFor since you were so thankfully confused\nBy law with someone else, you cannot be\nSemantically the same as that young beauty:\nIt was of her that these two words were used.\n\nNow it's a phrase applicable to no one,\nLying just where you left it,scattered through\nOld lists, old programmes, a school prize or two\nPackets of letters tied with tartan ribbon -\nThen is it scentless, weightless, strengthless, wholly\nUntruthful? Try whispering it slowly.\nNo, it means you. Or, since you're past and gone,\n\nIt means what we feel now about you then:\nHow beautiful you were, and near, and young,\nSo vivid, you might still be there among\nThose first few days, unfingermarked again.\nSo your old name shelters our faithfulness,\nInstead of losing shape and meaning less\nWith your depreciating luggage laden.", "https://allpoetry.com/Maiden-Name", 138, "\"A poem about a speaker communing with memories of a young, beautiful girl whose identity has been consumed and discarded through marriage, severing all ties to who she once was.\""], ["Quivira City Limits by Kevin Young", "Kevin Young", "'Quivira City Limits' by Kevin Young describes the beauty of Kansas' fields and shares the history of the place with impassioned terms. This poem begins with a direct address to Averill to whom the poem is dedicated. The speaker of this piece, Young, tells his co-passenger to stop by the fields somewhere outside the limits of Topeka town. He welcomes him to enjoy the rustic scene where a rusted tractor stands by. In an epigrammatic tone, he tells his Averill that the world was never too small. The advanced transportation brought the regions closer. He goes on to share the story of Spanish conquistador Coronado who once stepped on this rich land in search of gold. However, he had a disappointing end but this land does not disappoint the speaker.", "Pull over. Your car with its slow\nbreathing. Somewhere outside Topeka\n\nit suddenly all matters again,\nthose tractors blooming rust\n\nin the fields only need a good coat\nof paint. Red. You had to see\n\nfor yourself, didn't you; see that the world\nnever turned small, transportation\n\njust got better; to learn\nwe can't say a town or a baseball\n\nteam without breathing in a\ndead Indian. To discover why Coronado\n\npushed up here, following the guide\nwho said he knew fields of gold,\n\nnorth, who led them past these plains,\npast buffaloes dark as he was. Look.\n\nNothing but the wheat, waving them\nsick, a sea. While they strangle\n\nhim blue as the sky above you\nThe Moor must also wonder\n\nwhen will all this ever be enough?\nthis wide open they call discovery,\n\ndisappointment, this place my\nthousand bones carry, now call home.", "https://www.washburn.edu/reference/cks/mapping/young/index.html", 121, "\"A poem about exploring the beautiful fields outside Topeka, tracing the history of those who have sought riches in the land while finding that it never disappoints.\""], ["Musee des Beaux Arts by W.H. Auden", "W.H. Auden", "Musee des Beaux Arts' by W.H. Auden describes, through the use of one specific artwork, the impact of suffering on humankind. The poem begins with the speaker stating that the \u201cOld Masters\u201d who were responsible for the art he was looking at, knew struggle well. Through their paintings, they were able to portray suffering in a way that most people never see it. It goes on in the background while others sit, eat, and go about their normal lives. He continues on to say that suffering can take many forms and even revolve around the same event, such as the birth of a child. In the final lines of the first stanza, the speaker mentions martyrs and how their sacrifice is never properly appreciated. It fades into the background and is overtaken by the mundane world. In the second stanza, he refers directly to a piece of art, Landscape with the Fall of Icarus. In this work, one can observe Icarus falling into the sea in the bottom right-hand corner. In the foreground, there are figures ploughing the land and preparing to sail. No one notices the boy's suffering or if they do, they make no effort to help. Their lives take precedence over another's struggle. ", "About suffering they were never wrong,\nThe old Masters: how well they understood\nIts human position: how it takes place\nWhile someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along;\nHow, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting\nFor the miraculous birth, there always must be\nChildren who did not specially want it to happen, skating\nOn a pond at the edge of the wood:\nThey never forgot\nThat even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course\nAnyhow in a corner, some untidy spot\nWhere the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse\nScratches its innocent behind on a tree.\nIn Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away\nQuite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may\nHave heard the splash, the forsaken cry,\nBut for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone\nAs it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green\nWater, and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen\nSomething amazing, a boy falling out of the sky,\nHad somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.", "http://english.emory.edu/classes/paintings&poems/auden.html", 163, "A poem about suffering going unnoticed as it fades into the background while others continue ploughing, sailing, and going about their mundane lives."], ["I Looked Up from My Writing by Thomas Hardy", "Thomas Hardy", "'I Looked Up from My Writing' by Thomas Hardy is an existentially contemplative piece in which a writer is confronted with his own ignorance and irresponsibility. The poem begins with the speaker sitting at his writing desk, looking up, and being startled by the presence of the moon directly outside his window. He initially believes the moon is there to see what he is writing, but after he asks her what she is doing. Her answer quickly contradicts this assumption. She states that she out looking for the body of a man who killed himself by drowning. The man was overwrought with sorrow over the death of his son, an innocent young man killed in battle. The moon is distraught by this battle and those who willingly participate in it. Continuing on, the moon addresses the speaker once more. She says that she is there at his window because she wants to know what kind of man can spend his time writing when the world is experiencing battles such as this. She believes he is willingly wearing blinders, ignorant of what is truly important. He is deeply upset by this accusation but plays directly into her opinion of him, hiding from her gaze.", "I looked up from my writing,\nAnd gave a start to see,\nAs if rapt in my inditing,\nThe moon's full gaze on me.\nHer meditative misty head\nWas spectral in its air,\nAnd I involuntarily said,\n'What are you doing there?'\n'Oh, I've been scanning pond and hole\nAnd waterway hereabout\nFor the body of one with a sunken soul\nWho has put his life-light out.\n'Did you hear his frenzied tattle?\nIt was sorrow for his son\nWho is slain in brutish battle,\nThough he has injured none.\n'And now I am curious to look\nInto the blinkered mind\nOf one who wants to write a book\nIn a world of such a kind.'\nHer temper overwrought me,\nAnd I edged to shun her view,\nFor I felt assured she thought me\nOne who should drown him too.", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57341/i-looked-up-from-my-writing", 116, "A poem about a writer being confronted by the moon, who questions how he can spend his time writing while the world suffers through battle and tragedy."], ["Balloons by Sylvia Plath", "Sylvia Plath", "Balloons' is a beautiful rendering of an everyday object as she elevates the balloons' nature by giving them life. It is also one of the best confessional poems as it expresses the vulnerable side of depression. Sylvia sees beauty in ordinary things, but it only lasts for a short while, and she is back to the harsh reality that breaks her heart and removes her happiness. In the end, she explains how one's childhood dreams and innocence is lost as the person grows up and is left with the harsh reality. ", "Since Christmas they have lived with us,\nGuileless and clear,\nOval soul-animals,\nTaking up half the space,\nMoving and rubbing on the silk\n\nInvisible air drifts,\nGiving a shriek and pop\nWhen attacked, then scooting to rest, barely trembling.\nYellow cathead, blue fish\u2014\u2014\u2014\u2014\nSuch queer moons we live with\n\nInstead of dead furniture!\nStraw mats, white walls\nAnd these traveling\nGlobes of thin air, red, green,\nDelighting\n\nThe heart like wishes or free\nPeacocks blessing\nOld ground with a feather\nBeaten in starry metals.\nYour small\n\nBrother is making\nHis balloon squeak like a cat.\nSeeming to see\nA funny pink world he might eat on the other side of it,\nHe bites,\n\nThen sits\nBack, fat jug\nContemplating a world clear as water.\nA red\nShred in his little fist.\n5 February 1963", "https://allpoetry.com/Balloons", 103, "\"A poem about finding fleeting beauty in ordinary things, only to be pulled back into a harsh reality that shatters innocence and childhood dreams.\""], ["I\u2019ve made out a will; I\u2019m leaving myself by Simon Armitage", "Simon Armitage", "Form and Tone 'I've made out a will; I'm leaving myself' takes the form of a jaunty sonnet, albeit with a slightly skewed and inconsistent rhyming pattern. This is an unusual choice as a sonnet is a form most often associated with love poems. The poem is highly comical and full of amusing comparisons and colorful metaphors. It employs several tricolons, a poetic device whereby three adjectives are used in quick succession. Perhaps this repeating pattern of description is supposed to symbolize a heartbeat? One thing is for sure the poem \u201czips along\u201d at a breakneck pace. The subject matter is a person giving up their organs to the national health service, although as I have asserted I think there are deeper levels to this poem. Whilst I have assigned this poem a title it doesn't actually have one. It is taken from a collection called Book of Matches. In this collection all the poems are supposed to be able to be read in the time it takes for a match to burn to its end.", "I've made out a will; I'm leaving myself\nto the National Health. I'm sure they can use\nthe jellies and tubes and syrups and glues,\nthe web of nerves and veins, the loaf of brains,\nand assortment of fillings and stitches and wounds,\nblood - a gallon exactly of bilberry soup -\nthe chassis or cage or cathedral of bone;\nbut not the heart, they can leave that alone.\nThey can have the lot, the whole stock:\nthe loops and coils and sprockets and springs and rods,\nthe twines and cords and strands,\nthe face, the case, the cogs and the hands,\nbut not the pendulum, the ticker;\nleave that where it stops or hangs.", "https://genius.com/Simon-armitage-ive-made-out-a-will-ive-left-myself-annotated", 101, "\"A poem about a person humorously willing their organs to the national health service, employing colorful metaphors and amusing comparisons while zipping along at a breakneck pace.\""], ["Poem for Passengers by Matthew Zapruder", "Matthew Zapruder", "Matthew Zapruder's 'Poem for Passengers' details the story of 'strangers' that board a train and are whisked off to their next destination. The poem explores the physical things they see and how they occupy their time while on the train. It turns to an introspective dream state, discussing how strangers are linked through their dreams and can relate to each other as everyone has a problem going on. The final part of the poem turns to these 'problems', presenting the strangers looking inward, always trying to 'solve' something that is bothering them. When the passengers depart, Zapruder suggests that a part of the journey lives on within them forever, never really leaving behind the memory of traveling.", "Like all strangers who temporarily\nfind themselves moving in the same direction\nwe look out the window\nwithout really seeing or down at our phones\ntrying to catch the dying signal\nthen the famous lonesome whistle\nso many singers have sung about\nblows and our bodies shudder\nsoon we pick up speed\nand pass the abandoned factories\nthere has lately been so much conversation about\nthrough broken windows they stare \nasking us to decide\nbut we fall asleep next to each other\nriding into the tunnel\nsharing without knowing the same dream\nin it we are carrying something\nan empty casket somehow so heavy\nonly together can we carry it\nover a bridge in the snow\nemerging suddenly into the light\nwe wake and open our laptops\nor a book about murder\nor a glossy magazine\nthough we are mostly awake\npart of us still goes on solving \nproblems so great they cannot be named\neven once we have reached our destination\nand disembark into whatever weather\nfor a long time there is a compartment\nwithin us filled with analog silence\ninside us the dream goes on and on", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/152075/poem-for-passengers", 159, "\"A poem about strangers boarding a train and occupying their time with physical observations and introspective dreaming, discovering their shared problems and carrying the memory of their journey with them long after departing.\""], ["Song of the Open Road by Walt Whitman", "Walt Whitman", "'Song of the Open Road' by Walt Whitman describes a trip the speaker takes in order to learn about himself and enjoy the journey to an unnamed destination. The speaker of the poem is describing a trip on which he is embarking. He describes himself as being \u201chealthy and free,\u201d and he realizes he is the only person who is in complete control of his life; he chooses his own destiny. Because of this realization, he does not have to wish or hope or pray for good fortune. He attests that he, himself, is his own good fortune, and that is all he needs. There is nothing that he is lacking. He will reach his destination on his own, and the earth will provide him with anything extra that is necessary. This is not to say that the road he is taking is not paved with imperfections and burdens. Rather than worry, however, the speaker has decided to take those burdens with him and deal with them as they arise.", "Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,\nHealthy, free, the world before me,\nThe long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. \n\nHenceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,\nHenceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing,\nDone with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms,\nStrong and content I travel the open road.\n\nThe earth, that is sufficient,\nI do not want the constellations any nearer,\nI know they are very well where they are,\nI know they suffice for those who belong to them.\n\n(Still here I carry my old delicious burdens,\nI carry them, men and women, I carry them with me wherever I go,\nI swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them,\nI am fill\u2019d with them, and I will fill them in return.)", "https://poets.org/poem/song-open-road-1", 123, "A poem about a speaker embarking on an open road journey, freely choosing his own destiny and carrying life's burdens with him as they arise."], ["The Firebombers by Anne Sexton", "Anne Sexton", "'The Firebombers' by Anne Sexton is a powerful poem in which the speaker addresses acts of violence committed by America. The speaker starts the poem by including herself as part of the country. \u201cWe are the coffin fillers,\u201d she says. The country is responsible for countless deaths that are treated callously. They occur regularly and in such a way that the government does not appear to care who they impact and why. The poem goes on, describing a child opening a shoebox bomb and a woman washing her mangled heart in the river. These striking and emotional images are contrasted with the lack of regard the speaker sees America showing for the rest of the world. The poem concludes with the speaker asking America where its \u201ccredentials\u201d are or what right it has to take the actions its been taking.", "We are America.\nWe are the coffin fillers.\nWe are the grocers of death.\nWe pack them in crates like cauliflowers.\n\nThe bomb opens like a shoebox.\nAnd the child?\nThe child is certainly not yawning.\nAnd the woman?\nThe woman is bathing her heart.\nIt has been torn out of her\nand as a last act\nshe is rinsing it off in the river.\nThis is the death market.\n\nAmerica,\nwhere are your credentials?", "https://allpoetry.com/The-Firebombers", 60, "A poem about America committing acts of violence and filling coffins with countless deaths, while a speaker is questioning what right the country has to be taking such callous and destructive actions."], ["Sonnet 35 by Elizabeth Barrett Browning", "Elizabeth Barrett Browning", "'Sonnet 35' by Elizabeth Barrett Browning explores the speaker's growing relationship with her beloved. The poem begins with the speaker asking a few questions about her beloved and expressing her concerns about their future. She's leaving her life behind and hopes that Browning is ready to do the same for her. At the same time, she's amazed that she could've ever thought that she wouldn't miss the elements of her day-to-day life (the things that brought her comfort when she was most sorrowful), but she's willingly leaving them behind.", "If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange\nAnd be all to me? Shall I never miss\nHome-talk and blessing and the common kiss\nThat comes to each in turn, nor count it strange,\nWhen I look up, to drop on a new range\nOf walls and floors ... another home than this?\nNay, wilt thou fill that place by me which is\nFilled by dead eyes too tender to know change?\nThat's hardest. If to conquer love, has tried,\nTo conquer grief, tries more ... as all things prove;\nFor grief indeed is love and grief beside.\nAlas, I have grieved so I am hard to love.\nYet love me\u2014wilt thou? Open thine heart wide,\nAnd fold within, the wet wings of thy dove.", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43741/sonnets-from-the-portuguese-35-if-i-leave-all-for-thee-wilt-thou-exchange", 112, "A poem about a speaker leaving her old life behind, expressing both wonder and concern as her relationship with her beloved deepens."], ["Crows in a Strong Wind by Cornelius Eady", "Cornelius Eady", "'Crows in a Strong Wind' is a humorous poem about the crows' dance in a stormy wind and how it resembles the lovers who are stuck in embarrassing moments. This poem begins with the imagery of a strong wind. It unsettles the crows sitting on the roof. They cannot hold on to their position for the pressure. Hence they fly away and try to perch on things that come across. In the following lines, Eady likens the crows' flight to an awkward dance. It appears to be a comic incident to the speaker. Besides, their dance also reminds him of the embarrassing situations occurring while one's love goes wrong.", "Off go the crows from the roof.\nThe crows can\u2019t hold on.\nThey might as well\nBe perched on an oil slick.\nSuch an awkward dance,\nThese gentlemen\nIn their spottled-black coats.\nSuch a tipsy dance,\nAs if they didn\u2019t know where they were.\nSuch a humorous dance,\nAs they try to set things right,\nAs the wind reduces them.\nSuch a sorrowful dance.\nHow embarrassing is love\nWhen it goes wrong\nIn front of everyone.", "https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48368/crows-in-a-strong-wind", 60, "A poem about crows dancing awkwardly in a strong wind, drawing parallels to the embarrassing and unsettling moments that arise when love goes wrong."]], "truncated": false, "filtered_table_rows_count": 1798, "expanded_columns": [], "expandable_columns": [], "columns": ["Title", "Poet", "text", "ctext", "Poem Link", "wordcount", "one_sentence_summary"], "primary_keys": [], "units": {}, "query": {"sql": "select Title, Poet, text, ctext, [Poem Link], wordcount, one_sentence_summary from short_poems  limit 101", "params": {}}, "facet_results": {}, "suggested_facets": [], "next": "100", "next_url": "http://data.emptys.et/data/short_poems.json?_next=100", "private": false, "allow_execute_sql": true, "query_ms": 62.80099507421255}