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To Helen
By Frank Marshall Davis
The thin cool fingers of the wind
Caress your tall loveliness;
The wind kisses
Each shining strand of spun brightness
About your head
Then sends a shimmering waterfall
About the face of you;
I think the summer sun
Would be jealous of your hair,
O Golden Goddess,
Did he not...
To You, from Your Secret Admirer
By Sharon Olds
I love the conversations we have
after making love—of course it’s just me, making
love to myself, talking to you,
loving you—though I do not really
know you, so I guess not loving you—
craving the dream of knowing you.
“When will I be able to...
Red Rum
By Dorothea Lasky
Lipstick is one of the very finest elixirs
It has a soft consistency
And can write on glass
Red rum is sweet
And candied
With cherries from the
Bottom of the bottle
We sip it so gracefully
I am in love again
His name is something
But who can remember
Memory...
A Memory of Us
By Safia Elhillo
when i think of us i think of the lakewater
near longtown, what might not technically
constitute a lake but i prefer that word for
the open mouth of its vowel, how it called
us to its throat & held us there, in the...
Mira’s Colors
By Mirabai
Translated By Chloe Martinez
I’m dyed dark with him.

I dressed up / put on ankle-bells / gave up on shame / danced

I’ve taken on his deep hue.

I took up with mystics / got called perverse / was faithful, true,...
The Best Slow Dancer
By David Wagoner
Under the sagging clotheslines of crepe paper
By the second string of teachers and wallflowers
In the school gym across the key through the glitter
Of mirrored light three-second rule forever
Suspended you danced with her the best slow dancer
Who stood on tiptoe who...
from The Book of Funnels
By Christian Hawkey
Fräulein, can you

sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I drag my sleeping bag
into the meadow’s precise center
& crawl inside, head first. Fräulein, there is the stars’
ceaseless drilling. I close my eyes. Somewhere below me
a star-nosed mole cuts its webbed hand
on...
Romance
By Claude McKay
To clasp you now and feel your head close-pressed,
Scented and warm against my beating breast;

To whisper soft and quivering your name,
And drink the passion burning in your frame;

To lie at full length, taut, with cheek to cheek,
And tease your mouth...
Double Doors
By Richard Jones
Valentine’s Day breakfast at Baker’s Square:
Laura drinks coffee while I watch Andrew,
who refuses to sit but chooses instead
to stay in the restaurant’s vestibule where
he opens and closes the big double doors
over and over again, as if he’s practicing
a grand entrance–entering,...
When Lucille Bogan Sings "Shave 'Em Dry"
By Aimee Nezhukumatathil
I blush quicker than a school of blue jack mackerel
arranging itself into an orb of dazzle to avoid

nips and gulps from the dolphins who’ve been silently

trailing them, waiting for them to relax. When I hear

her growl—her scratch-thirst and giggle when...
A Red, Red Rose
By Robert Burns
O my Luve is like a red, red rose
   That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve is like the melody
   That’s sweetly played in tune.

So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
   So deep in luve am I;...
Lunchbox Love Note
By Kenn Nesbitt
Inside my lunch
to my surprise
a perfect heart-shaped
love note lies.

The outside says,
“Will you be mine?”
and, “Will you be
my valentine?”

I take it out
and wonder who
would want to tell me
“I love you.”

Perhaps a girl
who’s much too shy
to hand it to me
eye to eye.

Or...
Altruism
By Molly Peacock
What if we got outside ourselves and there
really was an outside out there, not just
our insides turned inside out? What if there
really were a you beyond me, not just
the waves off my own fire, like those waves off
the backyard grill...
I Knew a Woman
By Theodore Roethke
I knew a woman, lovely in her bones,
When small birds sighed, she would sigh back at them;
Ah, when she moved, she moved more ways than one:
The shapes a bright container can contain!
Of her choice virtues only gods should speak,
Or English...
“Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art”
By John Keats
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—
         Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
         Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
         Of pure ablution round earth's...
A Maul for Bill and Cindy’s Wedding
By Gary Snyder
Swung from the toes out,
Belly-breath riding on the knuckles,
The ten-pound maul lifts up,
Sails in an arc overhead,
And then lifts you!

It floats, you float,
For an instant of clear far sight—
Eye on the crack in the end-grain
Angle of the oak round
Stood up...
First turn to me. . . .
By Bernadette Mayer
First turn to me after a shower,
you come inside me sideways as always

in the morning you ask me to be on top of you,
then we take a nap, we’re late for school

you arrive at night inspired and drunk,
there is no...
The Love Cook
By Ron Padgett
Let me cook you some dinner.
Sit down and take off your shoes
and socks and in fact the rest
of your clothes, have a daquiri,
turn on some music and dance
around the house, inside and out,
it’s night and the neighbors
are sleeping, those dolts,...
Tamer and Hawk
By Thom Gunn
I thought I was so tough,
But gentled at your hands,
Cannot be quick enough
To fly for you and show
That when I go I go
At your commands.

Even in flight above
I am no longer free:
You seeled me with your love,
I am blind to...
To His Coy Mistress
By Andrew Marvell
Had we but world enough and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down, and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love’s day.
Thou by the Indian Ganges’ side
Shouldst rubies find; I by...

Quick Tags

Explore Poems: Valentine's Day

To Helen

To You, from Your Secret Admirer

Red Rum

A Memory of Us

Mira’s Colors

The Best Slow Dancer

from The Book of Funnels

Romance

Double Doors

When Lucille Bogan Sings "Shave 'Em Dry"

A Red, Red Rose

Lunchbox Love Note

Altruism

I Knew a Woman

“Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art”

A Maul for Bill and Cindy’s Wedding

First turn to me. . . .

The Love Cook

Tamer and Hawk

To His Coy Mistress

poetry-magazineTo Helen

poetry-magazineTo You, from Your Secret Admirer

poetry-magazineRed Rum

poetry-magazineMira’s Colors

To Helen

To You, from Your Secret Admirer

Red Rum

Mira’s Colors