by Tebb, Barry
(or ‘Huddersfield the Second Poetry Capital of England Re-visited’)
What was it Janice Simmons said to me as James lay dying in Ireland?
“Phone Peter Pegnall in Leeds, an ex-pupil of...Read More
by Sexton, Anne
Mother, my Mary Gray,
once resident of Gloucester
and Essex County,
a photostat of your will
arrived in the mail today.
This is the division of money.
I am one third
of your daughters counting my...Read More
by Paterson, Andrew Barton
We have all of us read how the Israelites fled
From Egypt with Pharaoh in eager pursuit of 'em,
And Pharaoh's fierce troop were all put "in the soup"...Read More
by Coleridge, Mary Elizabeth
GOOD FRIDAY in my heart! Fear and affright!
My thoughts are the Disciples when they fled,
My words the words that priest and soldier said,
My deed the spear...Read More
by Smart, Christopher
Let Ramah rejoice with Cochineal.
Let Gaba rejoice with the Prickly Pear, which the Cochineal feeds on.
Let Nebo rejoice with the Myrtle-Leaved-Sumach as with the Skirret Jub. 2d....Read More
by Berryman, John
A hemorrhage of his left ear of Good Fridayâ€”
so help me Jesusâ€”then made funny too
the other, further one.
There must have been a bit. Sheets scrubbed away
soon all but...Read More
by Herbert, George
O my chief good,
How shall I measure out thy blood?
How shall I count what thee befell,
And each grief tell?
Shall I thy woes
Number according to thy...Read More
by Reeser, Jennifer
Yellow makes a play for green among
the rows of some poor farmer's field outside
the Memphis city limits' northern edge.
A D. J. plays The Day He Wore My Crown,
not knowing...Read More
by von Goethe, Johann Wolfgang
ON Petrarch's heart, all other days before,
In flaming letters written, was impress d
GOOD FRIDAY. And on mine, be it confess'd,
Is this year's ADVENT, as it passeth o'er.
I do not...Read More
by Sassoon, Siegfried
I’d been on duty from two till four.
I went and stared at the dug-out door.
Down in the frowst I heard them snore.
‘Stand to!’ Somebody grunted and...Read More
by Petrarch, Francesco
SONNET III. Era 'l giorno ch' al sol si scoloraro. HE BLAMES LOVE FOR WOUNDING HIM ON A HOLY DAY (GOOD FRIDAY). 'Twas on the...Read More