Find and share the perfect poems.
Though I score you with my best,
Treble circumstance
Must confirm the verdict, lest
It be laid to chance.
Insufficient that I match you
Every coin you flip;
Your demand is that I catch you
Squarely on the hip.
Should I wear my wreaths a bit
Rakishly and proud,
I have bought my right to it;
Let it be allowed.
This poem is in the public domain.
(For Carl Van Vechten)
Once riding in old Baltimore,
Heart-filled, head-filled with glee,
I saw a Baltimorean
Keep looking straight at me.
Now I was eight and very small,
And he was no whit bigger,
And so I smiled, but he poked out
His tongue and called me, “Nigger.”
1
For my Grandmother
This lovely flower fell to seed;
Work gently sun and rain;
She held it as her dying creed
That she would grow again.
2
For John Keats, Apostle of Beauty