What’s madness but nobility of soul At odds with circumstance? The day’s on fire\! I know the purity of pure despair, My shadow pinned against a sweating wall.

— Theodore Roethke · In a Dark Time

and squander the power of the noblest gift, only to make men worse, more skeptical, and sadder? Is this your sacred calling as prophets and as artists?… Where are our enthusiasts, our dreamers, our troubadours, to sing us the meaning of the world and the splendors of nature?

— Alexandru Vlahuță · Where Are Our Dreamers

I shall forget you presently, my dear, So make the most of this, your little day, Your little month, your little half a year Ere I forget, or die, or move away,

— Edna St. Vincent Millay · I shall forget you presently

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, I have forgotten, and what arms have lain Under my head till morning; but the rain Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh

— Edna St. Vincent Millay · What Lips My Lips Have Kissed

I have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain—and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down the saddest city lane.

— Robert Frost · Acquainted with the Night

(I Ask For Silence) Translated by Heidi Fischbach Now if you’d leave me in peace. Now if you’d get on without me. I am going to close my eyes And I only want five things, five favorite roots. The first is love without end. The second is to see autumn. I cannot be without leaves f…

— Pablo Neruda · Pido Silencio (I Ask For Silence)

Who is Jeremy Ward? August 12th, 1986. Hello, John. Thanks for the good letter. I

— Charles Bukowski · Letter to John Martin

I might as well begin by saying how much I like the title. It gets me right away because I’m in a workshop now so immediately the poem has my attention, like the Ancient Mariner grabbing me by the sleeve.

— Billy Collins · Workshop

It feels like smoke curling up from a cigarette someone left burning on a baby grand piano around three o’clock in the morning; smoke that billows up into the bright lights

— Billy Collins · Nightclub

The time will come when, with elation you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror

— Derek Walcott · Love After Love

There is enough treachery hatred violence absurdity in the average human being to supply any given army on any given day and the best of murder of

— Charles Bukowski · The Genius of the Crowd

Defeat, my Defeat, my self-knowledge and my defiance, Through you I know that I am yet young and swift of foot And not to be trapped by withering laurels. And in you I have found aloneness And the joy of being shunned and scorned.

— Kahlil Gibran · Defeat

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too;

— Rudyard Kipling · If

Foreign Cass was the youngest and most beautiful of Five Sisters Cass was The Most Beautiful Girl In Town

— Charles Bukowski · The Most Beautiful Woman in Town

(Keeping Quiet) Translated by Stephen Mitchell Now we will all count to twelve and we will all keep still. This one time upon the earth, let’s not speak any language, let’s stop for one second, and not move our arms so much. It would be a delicious moment, without hurry, without…

— Pablo Neruda · A Callarse (Keeping Quiet)

Who is Jeremy Lord? There are degrees of madness. And the matter you are, the more obvious it will be to other

— Charles Bukowski · My Madness

Rhyme XI —I am ardent, I am dark-skinned, I am the symbol of passion, my soul is filled with longing for pleasures. Are you looking for me? —No, it’s not you. —My forehead is pale, my tresses golden: I can offer you endless joys, I hold a treasure of tenderness. Are you calling…

— Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer · Rima XI (Rhyme XI)

Bring the Symphony Orchestra there is a thunderstorm you're playing a Wagner overture and the people leave their seats under the trees and run inside to

— Charles Bukowski · Rain

Long live the weeds that overwhelm My narrow vegetable realm\! – The bitter rock, the barren soil That force the son of man to toil;

— Theodore Roethke · Long Live The Weeds

When I do count the clock that tells the time, And see the brave day sunk in hideous night; When I behold the violet past prime, And sable curls all silver’d o’er with white;

— William Shakespeare · Sonnet 12: When I Do Count

74 poems

Poet Poem
Pablo Neruda A Callarse (Keeping Quiet)
Andrea Gibson A Letter To The Playground Bully, From Andrea, Age 8 ½
Charles Bukowski A Smile to Remember
Robert Frost Acquainted with the Night
Theodore Roethke Against Disaster
Rainer Maria Rilke Archaic Torso of Apollo
Andrea Gibson Ashes
Rainer Maria Rilke Autumn Day
Andrea Gibson Birthday
Edna St. Vincent Millay Bluebeard
Charles Bukowski Bluebird
Carl Sandburg Chicago
Charles Bukowski Creativity
Pablo Neruda Deber Del Poeta (Poet's Obligation)
Kahlil Gibran Defeat
Edna St. Vincent Millay Dirge Without Music
Kahlil Gibran Do Not Love Half Lovers
Theodore Roethke Epidermal Macabre
Walt Whitman Epitaph for a Friend
Robert Frost Fire and Ice
Charles Bukowski Go All The Way
Rainer Maria Rilke I Am Much Too Alone
Edna St. Vincent Millay I shall forget you presently
Leonard Cohen I stopped looking for you
Rudyard Kipling If
Theodore Roethke In a Dark Time
Billy Collins Introduction To Poetry
W.E. Henley Invictus
Theodore Roethke Journey Into The Interior
Naomi Shihab Nye Kindness
Federico Garcia Lorca La Guitarra (The Guitar)
Mary Oliver Lead
Charles Bukowski Letter to Hans van den Broek [Re. Censorship]
Charles Bukowski Letter to John Martin
Theodore Roethke Long Live The Weeds
Derek Walcott Love After Love
Rainer Maria Rilke Love Song
John Roedel My Love
Charles Bukowski My Madness
Billy Collins Nightclub
Charles Bukowski Nirvana
Edna St. Vincent Millay Oh, oh, you will be sorry
Charles Bukowski People Aren't Good (The Crunch)
Pablo Neruda Pido Silencio (I Ask For Silence)
Pablo Neruda Poesia (Poetry)
Charles Bukowski Rain
Edna St. Vincent Millay Renascence
Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer Rima XI (Rhyme XI)
William Butler Yeats Sailing To Byzantium
Walt Whitman Song Of The Open Road
William Shakespeare Sonnet 12: When I Do Count
Maya Angelou Still I Rise
Robert Frost Stopping by Woods on a Snowy…
Martha Postlethwaite The Clearing
Charles Bukowski The Genius of the Crowd
T.S. Eliot The Hollow Men
Mary Oliver The Journey
William Butler Yeats The Lake Isle of Innisfree
Rainer Maria Rilke The Man Watching
Charles Bukowski The Most Beautiful Woman in Town
Andrea Gibson The Nutritionist
Rainer Maria Rilke The Panther
Charles Bukowski The Strange
Theodore Roethke The Waking
Stephen Crane The Wayfarer
Antonio Machado The Wind, One Brilliant Day
Edna St. Vincent Millay Thursday
Edna St. Vincent Millay What Lips My Lips Have Kissed
Mary Oliver When I Am Among The Trees
Alexandru Vlahuță Where Are Our Dreamers
Mary Oliver Wild Geese
Billy Collins Workshop
e.e. cummings [since feeling is first]
e.e. cummings [you shall above all things be glad]