A Song on the End of the World

by Czeslaw Milosz On the day the world ends A bee circles a clover, A fisherman mends a glimmering net. Happy porpoises jump in the sea, By the rainspout young sparrows are playing And the snake is gold-skinned as it should always be. On the day the world ends Women walk through the fields under their umbrellas, A drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn, Vegetable peddlers shout in the street And a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island, The voice of a violin lasts in the air And leads into a starry night. And those who expected lightning and thunder Are disappointed. And those who expected signs and archangels trumps Do not believe it is happening now. As long as the sun and the moon are above, As long as the bumblebee visits a rose, As long as rosy infants are born No one believes it is happening now. Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet Yet is not a prophet, for hes much too busy, Repeats while he binds his tomatoes: There will be no other end of the world, There will be no other end of the world.

Ballad of the Oysterman By Oliver Wendell Holmes It was a tall young oysterman lived by the river-side, His shop was just upon the bank, his oat was on the tide; The daughter of a fisherman, that was so straight and slim, Lived over on the other bank, right opposite to him It was the pensive oysterman that saw a lovely maid, Upon a moonlight evening, a-sitting in the shade; He saw her wave her handkerchief, as much as if to say, Im wide awake, young oysterman, and all the folks away. Then up arose the oysterman, and to himself said he, I guess Ill leave the skiff a home, for fear that folks should see; I read it in a story-book, that, for to kiss his dear, Leander swam the Hellespont,--and I will swim this here. And he has leaped into the waves, and crossed the shining stream, And he was clambered up the bank, all in the moonlight gleam; Oh there were kisses sweet as dew, and words as soft as rain,-But they have heard her fathers step, and in he leaps again! Out spoke the ancient fisher man, --Oh, what was that, my daughter? T was nothing but a pebble, sir, I threw into the water. And what is that, pray tell me, love, that paddles off so fast? Its nothing but a porpoise, sir, thats been a-swimming past. Out spoke the ancient fisherman,--Now bring me my harpoon! Ill get into my fishing-boat, and fix that fellow soon. Down fell the pretty innocent, as falls a snow-white lamb, Her hair drooped round her pallid cheeks, like seaweed on a clam. Alas for those two loving ones! she waked not from her swound, And he was taken with the cramp, and in the waves was drowned; But Fate has metamorphosed them, in pity of their woe, And now they keep an oyster-shop for mermaids down below.

Rat Song
BY MARGARET ATWOOD When you hear me singing you get the rifle down and the flashlight, aiming for my brain, but you always miss and when you set out the poison I piss on it to warn the others. You think: That ones too clever, shes dangerous, because I dont stick around to be slaughtered and you think Im ugly too despite my fur and pretty teeth and my six nipples and snake tail. All I want is love, you stupid humanist. See if you can. Right, Im a parasite, I live off your leavings, gristle and rancid fat, I take without asking and make nests in your cupboards out of your suits and underwear. Youd do the same if you could, if you could afford to share my crystal hatreds. Its your throat I want, my mate trapped in your throat. Though you try to drown him with your greasy person voice, he is hiding / between your syllables I can hear him singing.

Flickering Mind By Denise Levertov Lord, not you, it is I who am absent. At first belief was a joy I kept in secret, stealing alone into sacred places: a quick glance, and away-and back, circling. I have long since uttered your name but now I elude your presence. I stop to think about you, and my mind at once like a minnow darts away, darts into the shadows, into gleams that fret unceasing over the river's purling and passing. not for one second will my self hold still, but wanders anywhere, everywhere it can turn. Not you, it is I am absent. You are the stream, the fish, the light, the pulsing shadow, you the unchanging presence, in whom all moves and changes. how can I focus my flickering, perceive at the fountain's heart the sapphire I know is there?

Countrywomen by Katherine Mansfield These be two Country women. What a size! Great big arms And round red faces; Big substantial Sit down places; Great big bosoms firm as cheese Bursting through their country jackets; Wide big laps And sturdy knees; Hands outspread, Round and rosy, Hands to hold A country posy Or a baby or a lamb And such eyes! Stupid, shifty, small and sly Peeping through a slit of sty, Squinting through their neighbors plackets.

ELDORADO EDGAR ALLEN POE

Gaily bedight, A gallant knight, In sunshine and in shadow, Had journeyed long, Singing a song, In search of Eldorado. But he grew old This knight so bold And o'er his heart a shadow Fell as he found No spot of ground That looked like Eldorado.

And, as his strength Failed him at length, He met a pilgrim shadow "Shadow," said he,

"Where can it be This land of Eldorado?" "Over the mountains Of the Moon, Down the Valley of the Shadow, Ride, boldly ride," The shade replied "If you seek for Eldorado!"

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening By- Robert Frost Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.

The Toughest Boys in School by Bob Woodroffe Don't mess with us! Don't be a fool! We are the toughest boys in school. So if you meet us--best behave. We're big and strong and very brave. Though I admit it's true to say That we've been known to run away From kids at school who call us names, Who laugh at us and spoil our games. 'Cause even though we boys play rough, The girls in school are twice as tough.

A Birthday BY CHRISTINA ROSSETTI My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a water'd shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit; My heart is like a rainbow shell That paddles in a halcyon sea; My heart is gladder than all these Because my love is come to me. Raise me a dais of silk and down; Hang it with vair and purple dyes; Carve it in doves and pomegranates, And peacocks with a hundred eyes; Work it in gold and silver grapes, In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys; Because the birthday of my life Is come, my love is come to me.

The Lighthouse
The light house, the guardian angel of the night She shines her light for all the lost sailors passing by Her beam bright as the sun, flashing through the night sky

The lighthouse, a soldier during the storms Standing tall, unafraid of the chaos Her light piercing through the storm like sharp knives

The light house the night owl of the day Sleeping and cozzed away until the night Her beam off as silent as a deer not wanting to be found

Katherine Sessor

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There was an Old Man of Thermopyl BY EDWARD LEAR There was an old man of Thermopyl, Who never did anything properly; But they said, "If you choose, To boil eggs in your shoes, You shall never remain in Thermopyl."

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Sonnet 29 "When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes" When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state, And trouble deaf Heaven with my bootless cries, And look upon myself, and curse my fate, Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, Featur'd like him, like him with friends possess'd, Desiring this man's art, and that man's scope, With what I most enjoy contented least: Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, Haply I think on thee,--and then my state (Like to the lark at break of day arising From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven's gate; For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings That then I scorn to change my state with kings

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Ghost Villanelle BY DAN LECHAY We never saw the ghost, though he was there we knew from the raindrops tapping on the eaves. We never saw him, and we didnt care. Each day, new sunshine tumbled through the air; evenings, the moonlight rustled in dark leaves. We never saw the ghost, though: he was there, if ever, when the wind tousled our hair and prickled goosebumps up and down thin sleeves; we never saw him. And we didnt care to step outside our room at night, or dare click off the nightlight: call it fear of thieves. We never saw the ghost, though he was there in sunlit dustmotes drifting anywhere, in light-and-shadow, such as the moon weaves. We never saw him, though, and didnt care, until at last we saw him everywhere. We told nobody. Everyone believes we never saw the ghost (if he was there), we never saw him and we didnt care.

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A Workman to the Gods BY EDWIN MARKHAM Once Phidias stood, with hammer in his hand, Carving Minerva from the breathing stone, Tracing with love the winding of a hair, A single hair upon her head, whereon A youth of Athens cried, O Phidias, Why do you dally on a hidden hair? When she is lifted to the lofty front Of the Parthenon, no human eye will see. And Phidias thundered on him: Silence, slave: Men will not see, but the Immortals will!

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Make up your mind, Snail! By Richard Wright Make up your mind, Snail! You are half inside your house, And halfway out!

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From: Two Voices By Alfred, Lord Tennyson A still small voice spake unto me: 'Thou art so full of misery, Were it not better not to be? Then to the still small voice I said: 'Let me not cast in endless shade What is so wonderfully made.

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Love Like Salt BY LISEL MUELLER It lies in our hands in crystals too intricate to decipher It goes into the skillet without being given a second thought It spills on the floor so fine we step all over it We carry a pinch behind each eyeball It breaks out on our foreheads We store it inside our bodies in secret wineskins At supper, we pass it around the table talking of holidays and the sea.

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What Hurt the Most

By Woo Vin Han

We used to love each other so But you shot me through the heart With a bullet. Through my fingers flow our Memories. I try to let go, But that makes me grasp harder. Slowly I start losing my focus. The world is slowly fading. Im only waiting for you During the last minutes of my life, But you never came. And that hurt the most.

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