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Famous Short Earth Poems

Famous Short Earth Poems. Short Earth Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Earth short poems


Always  Create an image from this poem
by Pablo Neruda
 I am not jealous
of what came before me.

Come with a man 
on your shoulders,
come with a hundred men in your hair,
come with a thousand men between your breasts and your feet,
come like a river
full of drowned men
which flows down to the wild sea,
to the eternal surf, to Time!

Bring them all
to where I am waiting for you;
we shall always be alone,
we shall always be you and I
alone on earth
to start our life!



by William Butler Yeats
 Earth in beauty dressed
Awaits returning spring.
All true love must die,
Alter at the best
Into some lesser thing.
Prove that I lie.

Such body lovers have,
Such exacting breath,
That they touch or sigh.
Every touch they give,
Love is nearer death.
Prove that I lie.

Love  Create an image from this poem
by Sarah Fuller Flower Adams
O Love! thou makest all things even 
In earth or heaven; 
Finding thy way through prison-bars 
Up to the stars; 
Or, true to the Almighty plan, 
That out of dust created man, 
Thou lookest in a grave,--to see 
Thine immortality! 

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
ART thou pale for weariness 
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth  
Wandering companionless 
Among the stars that have a different birth ¡ª 
And ever-changing like a joyless eye 5 
That finds no object worth its constancy? 

by Edward Estlin (E E) Cummings
as is the sea marvelous
from god’s
hands which sent her forth
to sleep upon the world

and the earth withers
the moon crumbles
one by one
stars flutter into dust

but the sea
does not change
and she goes forth out of hands and
she returns into hands

and is with sleep....

love,
         the breaking

of your
               soul
               upon
my lips



Alone  Create an image from this poem
by Sara Teasdale
 I am alone, in spite of love,
In spite of all I take and give—
In spite of all your tenderness,
Sometimes I am not glad to live.

I am alone, as though I stood
On the highest peak of the tired gray world,
About me only swirling snow,
Above me, endless space unfurled;

With earth hidden and heaven hidden,
And only my own spirit's pride
To keep me from the peace of those
Who are not lonely, having died.

by G K Chesterton
 WE laid him to rest with tenderness;
Homeward we turned in the twilight’s gold;
We thought in ourselves with dumb distress—
All the story of earth is told.


A beautiful word at the last was said:
A great deep heart like the hearts of old
Went forth; and the speaker had lost the thread,
Or all the story of earth was told.


The dust hung over the pale dry ways
Dizzily fired with the twilight’s gold,
And a bitter remembrance blew in each face
How all the story of earth was told.

by Raymond Carver
 And did you get what
you wanted from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved, to feel myself
beloved on the earth.

by Wendell Berry
 Geese appear high over us,
pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,
as in love or sleep, holds
them to their way, clear
in the ancient faith: what we need
is here. And we pray, not
for new earth or heaven, but to be
quiet in heart, and in eye,
clear. What we need is here.

by Oscar Wilde
 Tread lightly, she is near
Under the snow,
Speak gently, she can hear
The daisies grow. 

All her bright golden hair
Tarnished with rust,
She that was young and fair
Fallen to dust. 

Lily-like, white as snow,
She hardly knew
She was a woman, so
Sweetly she grew. 

Coffin-board, heavy stone,
Lie on her breast,
I vex my heart alone,
She is at rest. 

Peace, Peace, she cannot hear
Lyre or sonnet,
All my life's buried here,
Heap earth upon it. 



AVIGNON

by Robert Frost
 A voice said, Look me in the stars
And tell me truly, men of earth,
If all the soul-and-body scars
Were not too much to pay for birth.

Silvia  Create an image from this poem
by William Shakespeare
 WHO is Silvia? What is she? 
 That all our swains commend her? 
Holy, fair, and wise is she; 
 The heaven such grace did lend her, 
That she might admired be. 

Is she kind as she is fair? 
 For beauty lives with kindness: 
Love doth to her eyes repair, 
 To help him of his blindness; 
And, being help'd, inhabits there. 

Then to Silvia let us sing, 
 That Silvia is excelling; 
She excels each mortal thing 
 Upon the dull earth dwelling: 
To her let us garlands bring.

by Emily Dickinson
 The earth has many keys,
Where melody is not
Is the unknown peninsula.
Beauty is nature's fact.

But witness for her land,
And witness for her sea,
The cricket is her utmost
Of elegy to me.

by Emily Dickinson
 A Letter is a joy of Earth --
It is denied the Gods --

by Allen Ginsberg
 I speak of love that comes to mind:
The moon is faithful, although blind;
She moves in thought she cannot speak.
Perfect care has made her bleak.

I never dreamed the sea so deep,
The earth so dark; so long my sleep,
I have become another child.
I wake to see the world go wild.

by Louise Gluck
 Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know
what despair is; then
winter should have meaning for you.

I did not expect to survive,
earth suppressing me. I didn't expect
to waken again, to feel
in damp earth my body
able to respond again, remembering
after so long how to open again
in the cold light
of earliest spring--

afraid, yes, but among you again
crying yes risk joy

in the raw wind of the new world.

by Nikki Giovanni

Sky Diving

I hang on the edge  of this universe  singing off-key  talking too loud  embracing myself  to cushion the fall

I shall tumble  into deep space  never in this form  or with this feeling  to return to earth

 It is not tragic

I will spiral  through that Black hole  losing skin limbs  internal organs  searing  my naked soul

Landing  in the next galaxy  with only my essence  embracing myself  as

I dream of you


by Dorothy Parker
 Roses, rooted warm in earth,
Bud in rhyme, another age;
Lilies know a ghostly birth
Strewn along a patterned page;
Golden lad and chimbley sweep
Die; and so their song shall keep.

Wind that in Arcadia starts
In and out a couplet plays;
And the drums of bitter hearts
Beat the measure of a phrase.
Sweets and woes but come to print
Quae cum ita sint.

by Robert Frost
 Inscription for a Garden Wall

Winds blow the open grassy places bleak;
But where this old wall burns a sunny cheek,
They eddy over it too toppling weak
To blow the earth or anything self-clear;
Moisture and color and odor thicken here.
The hours of daylight gather atmosphere.

by Carolyn Forche
languid at the edge of the sea
lays itself open to immensity
leaf-cutter ants bearing yellow trumpet flowers
     along the road
left everything left all usual worlds behind
library, lilac, linens, litany.

by Paul Celan
 tall poplars -- human beings of this earth!
black pounds of happiness -- you mirror them to death!

I saw you, sister, stand in that effulgence.

by Edward Estlin (E E) Cummings
O sweet spontaneous
earth how often have
the
doting

fingers of
prurient philosophers pinched
and
poked

thee
has the naughty thumb
of science prodded
thy

beauty .how
often have religions taken
thee upon their scraggy knees
squeezing and

buffeting thee that thou mightest conceive
gods
(but
true

to the incomparable
couch of death thy
rhythmic
lover

thou answerest

them only with

spring)

by Henry Lawson
 I'll tell you what you wanderers, who drift from town to town; 
Don't look into a good girl's eyes, until you've settled down. 
It's hard to go away alone and leave old chums behind- 
It's hard to travel steerage when your tastes are more refined- 
To reach a place when times are bad, and to be standing there, 
No money in your pocket nor a decent rag to wear. 
But be forced from that fond clasp, from that last clinging kiss- 
By poverty! There is on earth no harder thing than this.

by George (Lord) Byron
 Adieu, adieu! my native shore
Fades o'ver the waters blue;
The night-winds sigh, the breakers roar,
And shrieks the wild sea-mew.
Yon sun that sets upon the sea
We follow in his flight;
Farewell awhile to him and thee,
My native Land-Good Night! 
A few short hours, and he will rise
To give the morrow birth;
And I shall hail the main and skies,
But not my mother earth.
Deserted is my own good hall,
Its hearth is desolate;
Wild weeds are gathering on the wall; 
My dog howls at the gate.

by Rabindranath Tagore
 If the day is done, 
if birds sing no more, 
if the wind has flagged tired, 
then draw the veil of darkness thick upon me, 
even as thou hast wrapt the earth with the coverlet of sleep 
and tenderly closed the petals of the drooping lotus at dusk.


Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry