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Introduction to Poetry Billy Collins I ask them to take a poem and hold it up to the light like a color slide or press an ear against its hive. I say drop a mouse into a poem and watch him probe his way out, or walk inside the poem’s room and feel the walls for a light switch. I want them to waterski across the surface of a poem waving at the author’s name on the shore. But all they want to do i..

Three for the Mona LisaJohn Stone 1 It is not what she didat 10 o'clocklast evening accounts for the smile It isthat she plansto do it again tonight. 2 Only the mouthall those yearsever letting on. 3 It's not the mouthexactly it's not the eyesexactly either it's not evenexactly a smile But, whatever,I second the motion. 1 그 것은 그녀가 지난 밤 10시에했던 것이 아니다. 그 것은 그녀의 미소를 말해준다. 그 것은그녀가다시 한 번 더 하려고 계획하는 것..

Siren Song Margaret Atwood This is the one song everyone would like to learn: the song that is irresistible: the song that forces men to leap overboard in squadrons even though they see the beached skulls the song nobody knows because anyone who has heard it is dead, and the others can't remember. Shall I tell you the secret and if I do, will you get me out of this bird suit? I don't enjoy it he..

Sylvia's Death Anne Sexton O Sylvia, Sylvia, with a dead box of stones and spoons, with two children, two meteors wandering loose in a tiny playroom, with your mouth into the sheet, into the roofbeam, into the dumb prayer, (Sylvia, Sylvia where did you go after you wrote me from Devonshire about raising potatoes and keeping bees?) what did you stand by, just how did you lie down into? Thief -- h..

The Starry Night Anne Sexton That does not keep me from having a terrible need of—shall I say the word—religion. Then I go out at night to paint the stars. —Vincent Van Gogh in a letter to his brother The town does not exist except where one black-haired tree slips up like a drowned woman into the hot sky. The town is silent. The night boils with eleven stars. Oh starry starry night! This is how..

Lady Lazarus Sylvia Plath ​I have done it again.One year in every tenI manage it--A sort of walking miracle, my skinBright as a Nazi lampshade,My right foot A paperweight,My face a featureless, fineJew linen. Peel off the napkinO my enemy.Do I terrify?-- The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?The sour breathWill vanish in a day. Soon, soon the fleshThe grave cave ate will beAt home on me ..

Daddy Sylvia Plath You do not do, you do not do Any more, black shoe In which I have lived like a foot For thirty years, poor and white, Barely daring to breathe or Achoo. Daddy, I have had to kill you. You died before I had time—— Marble-heavy, a bag full of God, Ghastly statue with one gray toe Big as a Frisco seal And a head in the freakish Atlantic Where it pours bean green over blue In the ..

Lady Luncheon Club Maya Angelou Her counsel was accepted: the times are grave. A man was needed who would make them think And pay him from the petty cash account Our woman checked her golden watch, The speaker has a plane to catch. Dessert is served (and just in time). The lecturer leans, thrusts forth his head And neck and chest, arms akimbo On the lectern top. He summons up Sincerity as one mi..

Skunk Hour Robert Lowell For Elizabeth Bishop 엘리자베스 비숍을 위하여 Nautilus Island’s hermit heiress still lives through winter in her Spartan cottage; her sheep still graze above the sea. Her son’s a bishop. Her farmer is first selectman in our village, she’s in her dotage. 노틸러스 섬의 은둔자 상속녀는 아직도 간소한 오두막에서 겨울 내내 지내고 있다; 그녀의 양들은 아직도 바다 위에서 풀을 뜯는다. 그녀의 아들은 주교다. 그녀의 농부는 수석 행정위원인데, 그녀는 노망났다. Thirsting for th..

Not Waving but Drowning Stevie Smith, 1902 - 1971 Nobody heard him, the dead man, But still he lay moaning: I was much further out than you thought And not waving but drowning. Poor chap, he always loved larking And now he’s dead It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way, They said. Oh, no no no, it was too cold always (Still the dead one lay moaning) I was much too far out all my li..