Famous Erase Poems by Famous Poets

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• Erase Poems by Members
• Best Erase Poems by Members
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Empty my Heart of Thee --

 Empty my Heart, of Thee --
Its single Artery --
Begin, and leave Thee out --
Simply Extinction's Date --

Much Billow hath the Sea --
One Baltic -- They --
Subtract Thyself, in play,
And not enough of me
Is left -- to put away --
"Myself" meanth Thee --

Erase the Root -- no Tree --
Thee -- then -- no me --
The Heavens stripped --
Eternity's vast pocket,...Read more of this...

Erasing Amyloo

 A father with a huge eraser erases his daughter. When he 
finishes there's only a red smudge on the wall.
 His wife says, where is Amyloo?
 She's a mistake, I erased her.
 What about all her lovely things? asks his wife.
 I'll erase them too.
 All her pretty clothes? . . .
 I'll erase her closet, her dresser--shut up...Read more of this...

The Island of Skyros

 Here, where we stood together, we three men, 
Before the war had swept us to the East 
Three thousand miles away, I stand again 
And hear the bells, and breathe, and go to feast. 
We trod the same path, to the selfsame place, 
Yet here I stand, having beheld their graves, 
Skyros whose shadows the great seas erase, 
And...Read more of this...

Sonnet LXXXV

SONNET LXXXV. Avventuroso più d' altro terreno. HE APOSTROPHIZES THE SPOT WHERE LAURA FIRST SALUTED HIM.  Ah, happiest spot of earth! in this sweet placeLove first beheld my condescending fairRetard her steps, to smile with courteous graceOn me, and smiling glad the ambient air.The deep-cut image, wrought with skilful care,Time...Read more of this...

45 Mercy Street

 In my dream, 
drilling into the marrow 
of my entire bone, 
my real dream, 
I'm walking up and down Beacon Hill 
searching for a street sign -- 
namely MERCY STREET. 
Not there. 

I try the Back Bay. 
Not there. 
Not there. 
And yet I know the number. 
45 Mercy Street. 
I know the stained-glass window 
of the foyer, 
the...Read more of this...

Emptying Town

 I want to erase your footprints
from my walls. Each pillow
is thick with your reasons. Omens 

fill the sidewalk below my window: a woman
in a party hat, clinging
to a tin-foil balloon. Shadows 

creep slowly across the tar, someone yells, "Stop!"
and I close my eyes. I can't watch 

as this town slowly empties, leaving me
strung between bon-voyages, like so many clothes
on...Read more of this...

Where Giant Mushrooms Grow!

 In Nevada there is a field where giant mushrooms grow
One mile high and two miles wide, they say on the show
That’s where they test how to vaporize people and flesh
By splitting and fusing atoms and start the world afresh.

A new era, a new definition, with the nuclear shield
Dawned with huge mushrooms grown on Nevada fields
Can erase whole cities, no...Read more of this...

Darkies

 “I’d rather make $700 a week playing a maid than earn $7 a day being a maid”. Hattie McDaniel.

I’m the savage in the jungle
and the busboy in the town.
I’m the one who jumps the highest 
when the Boss man comes around.

I’m the maid who wields the wooden broom.
I’m the black boot polish cheeks.
I’m the big fat Lawdy Mama
who always...Read more of this...

Stay

 For why cometh a time,

When you forget yesterday?

Forgot our vows that we made,

And turn and walk away.
*****
How can a heart forget,

The love we once had?

And turn yourself against me,

And make my soul so sad.
*****
You’ve found someone better,

And you’ll leave us behind;

You think you can change your heart,

And erase your troubled mind.
*****
How can you just quit,

And let our love just...Read more of this...

Freedom XIV

 And an orator said, "Speak to us of Freedom." 

And he answered: 

At the city gate and by your fireside I have seen you prostrate yourself and worship your own freedom, 

Even as slaves humble themselves before a tyrant and praise him though he slays them. 

Ay, in the grove of the temple and in the shadow of the...Read more of this...

If only out of vanity

If only out of vanity
I have wondered what kind of woman I will be
when I am well past the summer of my raging youth
Will I still be raising revolutionary flags
and making impassioned speeches
that stir up anger in the hearts of pseudo-liberals
dressed in navy-blue conservative wear

In those years when I am grateful
I still have a good sturdy bladder
that does not leak...Read more of this...

Folk Tune

It's not that the Muse feels like clamming up 
it's more like high time for the lad's last nap.
And the scarf-waving lass who wished him the best
drives a steamroller across his chest.

And the words won't rise either like that rod
or like logs to rejoin their old grove's sweet rot
and like eggs in the frying pan the face
spills its eyes all...Read more of this...

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