This page contains the selected poems for ENC 1102.1729. I suggest that you print them out so that you can annotate them as you read through them. Each entry contains the following items:
Don't forget the appropriate poetry terms on the Terms list site!
| anyone lived in a pretty how town | |
| (with up so floating many bells down) | |
| spring summer autmun winter | |
| he sang his didn't he danced his did. |
| Women and men (both little and small) | |
| cared for anyone not at all | |
| they sowed their isn't they reaped their same | |
| sun moon stars rain |
| children guessed (but only a few | |
| and down they forgot as up they grew | |
| autumn winter spring summer) | |
| that noone loved him more by more |
| when by now and tree by leaf | |
| she laughed his joy she cried his grief | |
| bird by snow and stir by still | |
| anyone's any was all to her |
| someones married their everyones | |
| laughed their cryings and did their dance | |
| (sleep wake hope and then) they | |
| said their nevers they slept their dream | |
| stars rain sun moon | |
| (and only the snow can begin to explain | |
| how children are apt to forget to remember | |
| with up so floating many bells down) |
| one day anyone died i guess | |
| (and noone stooped to kiss his face) | |
| busy folk buried them side by side | |
| little by little and was by was |
| all by all and deep by deep | |
| and more by more they dream their sleep | |
| noone and anyone earth by april | |
| wish by spirit and if by yes. |
| Women and men (both dong and ding) | |
| summer autmun winter spring | |
| reaped their sowing and went their came | |
| sun moon stars rain |
Anthology of American Literature, Volume II: Realism to the Present. 4 ed. Ed. George McMichael. New York: Macmillan, 1989. 1211.
| I've stayed in the front yard all my life. | |
| I want a peek at the back | |
| Where it's rough and untended and hungry weed grows | |
| A girl gets sick of a rose. |
| I want to go in the back yard now | |
| And maybe down the alley, | |
| To where the charity children play. | |
| I want a good time today. |
| They do some wonderful things. | |
| They have some wonderful fun. | |
| My mother sneers but I say it's fine | |
| How they don't have to go in at quarter to nine. | |
| My mother, she tells me that Johnnie Mae | |
| Will grow up to be a bad woman. | |
| That George'll be taken to Jail soon or late | |
| (On account of last winter he sold our back gate). |
| But I say it's fine. Honest, I do. | |
| And I'd like to be a bad woman, too, | |
| And wear the brave stockings of night-black lace | |
| And strut down the street with paint on my face. | |
Selected Poems. New York: Harper and Row, 1963.6.
| I'm Nobody! Who are you? | |
| Are you -- Nobody -- Too? | |
| Then there's a pair of us! | |
| don't tell! they'd advertise -- you know! |
| How dreary -- to be -- Somebody! | |
| How public -- like a Frog -- | |
| To tell one's name -- the livelong June -- | |
| To an admiring Bog! |
| I heard a Fly buzz -- when I died -- | |
| The Stillness in the Room | |
| Was like the Stillness in the Air -- | |
| Between the Heaves of Storm -- |
| The Eyes around -- had wrung them dry -- | |
| And Breaths were gathering firm | |
| For that last Onset -- when the King | |
| Be witnesed -- in the Room -- |
| I willed my Keepsakes -- Signed away | |
| What portion of me be | |
| Assignable -- and then it was | |
| There interposed a Fly-- |
| With Blue -- uncertain stumbling Buzz -- | |
| Between the light -- and me -- | |
| And then the Windows failed -- and then | |
| I could not see to see -- |
| A Dimple in the Tomb | |
| Makes that ferocious Room | |
| A Home -- |