Explore all poems

Knocking at my mind’s door,
Slyly you ask to come in,
Often, we sleep all night
Often, we tangle 'til dawn
Sometimes I think you make me whole
Sometimes I think you kill me
Even when I wish you away
I can’t help but...

Hers was usual, his, an art
Ever finding solace in a single word
Little he said, the world he meant
Learning and yearning to be heard
Only if she knew, to hear love in hello!

The plow has savaged this sweet field
Misshapen clods of earth kicked up
Rocks and twisted roots exposed to view
Last year’s growth demolished by the blade.

I have plowed my life this way
Turned over a whole...

“The problem is",
She once told me,
“There is no passion without possession,
We can’t love people,
The way we love the stars!”

We real cool. We
Left school. We

Lurk late. We
Strike straight. We

Sing sin. We
Thin gin. We

Jazz June. We
Die soon.

There are strangers out there
Strangers who know –
The rhythms of our hearts.
Strangers who –
We shared more than just time.
And for those we are with now.
We keep them occupied
With tales of those strangers
Who...

Might is blatant in flight
Guile as an eagle we flow
Gracefully we glide and go
But to grow we must settle
Like an eagle’s nest on a rocky perch
Fly, fly we may,
But by dusk we perch
To rest our wings!

A beauty most pristine that made the roses blush
Of timbre most surreal that made the angels hush
Her smile most radiant, the stars in their courses dull
A soul most serene, the waves from their torment lull

Maiden most divine,...

“It seems to me,” said Booker T.,
“It shows a mighty lot of cheek
To study chemistry and Greek
When Mister Charlie needs a hand
To hoe the cotton on his land,
And when Miss Ann looks for a cook,
Why stick your nose inside a...

If it doesn’t rain
I’ll come by for sure
We’ll stroll around
And write our names
On the ground!

If it rains,
We’ll wait ‘till it stops
In the muddy humid air
We’ll drift around
Like little rainbows!

Said a blade of grass to an autumn leaf, “You make such a noise falling!  You scatter all my winter dreams.”
 
Said the leaf indignant, “Low-born and low-dwelling!  Songless, peevish thing!  You live not in the upper air and you cannot...

And when I’m high
Like the sky
I can’t help but ponder
Is it luck
Or is this it

And when I sink
To the very depths below
Still, I ponder
Is it a phase
Or is this it?