By Wendy Xu
Music, wind, someone’s car horn
Imagining to return
Buddha’s big toe on the lake
Your intricate gaze…
Imagining to return
Buddha’s big toe on the lake
Your intricate gaze…
Explore Poems: Syllabic
Showing 1-20 of 64 poems
- By Shane McCraeWhen Richmond is finally one of the
world’s great capitals I will line the streets
with apple trees… - By CaedmonNu scilun herga hefenricæs uard
metudæs mehti and his modgithanc
uerc uuldurfadur sue he uundra gihu… - By Langston HughesHave you dug the spill
Of Sugar Hill?
Cast your gims
On this sepia thrill:
Brown sugar lassie,
Caramel… - By Dante Micheauxfrom locusts and wild honey
On a lesser diet than that of the wretched
rests a prophecy: some of us… - By Honorée Fanonne JeffersThe breaking of clouds begins with seizure.
A man grabs another, reasons ransom.
A murder averted in… - By Caroline BirdI surrender my weapons:
Catapult Tears, Rain-Cloud Hat,
Lip Zip, Brittle Coat, Taut Teeth
in guarded rows… - By Zaffar KunialMeaning “homeland” — mulk
(in Kashmir) — exactly how
my son demands milk.
•
Full-rhyme with Jhelum,
the… - By Malcolm CowleyNot that the pines were darker there,
nor mid-May dogwood brighter there,
nor swifts more swift in… - By Paul VioliWhere the blossoms fall
like snow on the dock
bring fifty thousand in cash
or you’ll never see
your… - By William Butler YeatsShe that but little patience knew,
From childhood on, had now so much
A grey gull lost its fear and … - By William Butler Yeats'O words are lightly spoken,'
Said Pearse to Connolly,
'Maybe a breath of politic words
Has withered… - By William Butler YeatsO but we talked at large before
The sixteen men were shot,
But who can talk of give and take,
What should… - By William Butler YeatsWhat need you, being come to sense,
But fumble in a greasy till
And add the halfpence to the pence
And… - By William Butler YeatsKnow, that I would accounted be
True brother of a company
That sang, to sweeten Ireland's wrong,
Ballad… - By Rudyard KiplingAcross a world where all men grieve
And grieving strive the more,
The great days range like tides and… - By Rudyard KiplingFor all we have and are,
For all our children's fate,
Stand up and take the war.
The Hun is at the gate… - By Thomas HardyI looked up from my writing,
And gave a start to see,
As if rapt in my inditing,
The moon's full gaze… - By Patricia SmithThis is not morning. There is a nastiness
slowing your shoes, something you shouldn’t step in.
It’s …