Dictionary Poems

Because my teeth are feebly fewI cannot bolt my grub like you,But have to chew and chew and chew As you can see;Yet every mouthful seems so goodI would not haste it if I could,And so I salivate my food With ecstasy.Because my purse is poor in penceI spend my dough with common-sense,And live without … Continued

To buy for school a copy-book I asked my Dad for two-pence;He gave it with a gentle look, Although he had but few pence.‘Twas then I proved myself a crook And came a moral cropper,I bought a penny copy-book And blued the other copper. I spent it on a sausage roll Gulped down with guilt … Continued

What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry upLike a raisin in the sun? Or fester like a sore–And then run? Does it stink like rotten meat?Or crust and sugar over–like a syrupy sweet? Maybe it just sagslike a heavy load. Or does it explode? – Dream Deferred by Langston Hughes

That short, potential stirThat each can make but once,That bustle so illustrious‘T is almost consequence, Is the eclat of death.Oh, thou unknown renownThat not a beggar would accept,Had he the power to spurn! – THE FUNERAL – That short, potential stir by Emily Dickinson

The grass so little has to do, —A sphere of simple green,With only butterflies to brood,And bees to entertain, And stir all day to pretty tunesThe breezes fetch along,And hold the sunshine in its lapAnd bow to everything; And thread the dews all night, like pearls,And make itself so fine, —A duchess were too commonFor … Continued

Death is a dialogue betweenThe spirit and the dust.Dissolve, says Death. The Spirit, Sir,I have another trust. Death doubts it, argues from the ground.The Spirit turns away,Just laying off, for evidence,An overcoat of clay. – Death is a dialogue between by Emily Dickinson

I died for beauty, but was scarceAdjusted in the tomb,When one who died for truth was lainIn an adjoining room. He questioned softly why I failed?For beauty, I replied.And I for truth, — the two are one;We brethren are, he said. And so, as kinsmen met a night,We talked between the rooms,Until the moss had … Continued

Nature, the gentlest mother,Impatient of no child,The feeblest or the waywardest, —Her admonition mild In forest and the hillBy traveller is heard,Restraining rampant squirrelOr too impetuous bird. How fair her conversation,A summer afternoon, —Her household, her assembly;And when the sun goes down Her voice among the aislesIncites the timid prayerOf the minutest cricket,The most unworthy … Continued

It was passed from one bird to another,the whole gift of the day.The day went from flute to flute,went dressed in vegetation,in flights which opened a tunnelthrough the wind would passto where birds were breaking openthe dense blue air –and there, night came in. When I returned from so many journeys,I stayed suspended and greenbetween … Continued

There’s a Polar BearIn our Frigidaire–He likes it ’cause it’s cold in there.With his seat in the meatAnd his face in the fishAnd his big hairy pawsIn the buttery dish,He’s nibbling the noodles,He’s munching the rice,He’s slurping the soda,He’s licking the ice.And he lets out a roarIf you open the door.And it gives me a … Continued