1. Mag - written by Carl Sandburg
From Chicago Poems. Published in 1912. Read 4173 times on American Poems.

I WISH to God I never saw you, Mag.
I wish you never quit your job and came along with me.
I wish we never bought a license and a white dress
For you to get married in the day we ran off to a minister
And told him we would love each other and take... (Read full poem)

There was a man who found two leaves and came 
indoors holding them out saying to his parents 
that he was a tree.

  To which they said then go into the yard and do 
not grow in the living room as your roots may 
ruin the carpet.

  He said I was... (Read full poem)

3. Dream Song 98: I met a junior--not so junior--and - written by John Berryman
From His Toy, His Dream, His Rest. Published in 1968. Read 879 times on American Poems.

I met a junior—not so junior—and
a-many others, who knew 'him' or 'them'
long ago, slightly,
whom I know. It was the usual
cocktail party, only (my schedule being strict)
beforehand.

I worked. Well. Then they kept the kids... (Read full poem)

The lump of coal my parents teased
I'd find in my Christmas stocking
turned out each year to be an orange,
for I was their sunshine.

Now I have one C. gave me,
a dense node of sleeping fire.
I keep it where I read and write.
"You're on chummy terms... (Read full poem)

5. To William Holden - written by David Lehman
Read 1247 times on American Poems.

(July 15) 

We know who 
the guards are 
in those POW 
movies with brutal 
but easy to 
fool fat Germans 
or sadistic Japanese 
who never smiled 
they're the grown-ups 
we're the kids 
that's the secret(Read full poem)

Children aren't happy with nothing to ignore,
And that's what parents were created for.(Read full poem)

7. The Slums - written by Kenneth Patchen
Read 902 times on American Poems.

That should be obvious
Of course it won't
Any fool knows that.
Even in the winter.
Consider for a moment.
What?
Consider what!
They never have.
Why now?
Certainly it means nothing.
It's all a lie.
What else could it be?
That's... (Read full poem)

I'm a very average person,
and I think most people are.
I vote with the common man.
I have two kids, a boy and a girl.
Last Sunday I played golf with the boss.
Hey, it beats working.
I'm his wife. I may be brainless but
I'm her husband. I played... (Read full poem)

9. 1954 - written by Sharon Olds
Read 1926 times on American Poems.

Then dirt scared me, because of the dirt
he had put on her face. And her training bra
scared me—the newspapers, morning and evening,
kept saying it, training bra,
as if the cups of it had been calling
the breasts up—he buried her in... (Read full poem)

I was in love with anatomy
the symmetry of my body
poised for flight,
the heights it would take
over parents, lovers, a keen
riding over truth and detail.
I thought growing up would be
this rising from everything
old and earthly,
not these... (Read full poem)

11. April 26 - written by David Lehman
Read 675 times on American Poems.

When my father
Said mein Fehler
I thought it meant
"I'm a failure"
which was my error
which is what
mein Fehler means
in German which
is what my parents
spoke at home(Read full poem)

1
Dear ghosts, dear presences, O my dear parents,
Why were you so sad on porches, whispering?
What great melancholies were loosed among our swings!
As before a storm one hears the leaves whispering
And marks each small change in the atmosphere,
So... (Read full poem)

13. Herbert White - written by Frank Bidart
From Golden State. Published in 1973. Read 3342 times on American Poems.

"When I hit her on the head, it was good,

and then I did it to her a couple of times,--
but it was funny,--afterwards,
it was as if somebody else did it ...

Everything flat, without sharpness, richness or line.

Still, I liked to drive past the... (Read full poem)

WHILE deep you mourn beneath the cypress-shade
The hand of Death, and your dear daughter
laid
In dust, whose absence gives your tears to flow,
And racks your bosom with incessant woe,
Let Recollection take a tender part,
Assuage the raging... (Read full poem)

15. People With Proud Chins - written by Carl Sandburg
From Smoke and Steel. Published in 1922. Read 2738 times on American Poems.

I TELL them where the wind comes from,
Where the music goes when the fiddle is in the box.
  
Kids—I saw one with a proud chin, a sleepyhead,
And the moonline creeping white on her pillow.
  I have seen their heads in the starlight
  And their... (Read full poem)

Oh, Marcia, 
I want your long blonde beauty
to be taught in high school,
so kids will learn that God
lives like music in the skin
and sounds like a sunshine harpsicord.
I want high school report cards 
to look like this:

Playing with Gentle Glass... (Read full poem)

17. So Does Everybody Else, Only Not So Much - written by Ogden Nash
Read 2012 times on American Poems.

O all ye exorcizers come and exorcize now, and ye clergymen draw nigh and clerge, 
For I wish to be purged of an urge. 
It is an irksome urge, compounded of nettles and glue, 
And it is turning all my friends back into acquaintances, and all my... (Read full poem)

Lately I've sat here afternoons
just listening to the
gluttonous newsmen argue

about fathers who kill
their wives and kids
then spirit off to Mexico.

My life's knee-deep
in fathers, embedded
in my own shaky tenor,

and though mine's as good as... (Read full poem)

19. October 16 - written by David Lehman
Read 1784 times on American Poems.

What can you say about the Mets
down three games to none
one run down with six outs to go
Cedeno singles steals second Mora walks
they pull off a double steal
and Olerud singles them home
off the previously unhittable John Rocker
(look at his eyes,... (Read full poem)

Not a peep out of you now
After the bedlam early this morning.
Are you begging pardon of me
Hidden up there among the leaves,
Or are your brains momentarily overtaxed?

You savvy a few things I don't:
The overlooked sunflower seed worth a... (Read full poem)

21. Willie Pennington - written by Edgar Lee Masters
Read 469 times on American Poems.

They called me the weakling, the simpleton,
For my brothers were strong and beautiful,
While I, the last child of parents who had aged,
Inherited only their residue of power.
But they, my brothers, were eaten up
In the fury of the flesh, which... (Read full poem)

I have decorated this banner to honor my  brother. 
     Our parents did not want his name used publicly
     -- from an unnamed child's banner in the AIDS Memorial Quilt.

The boatpond, broken off, looks back at the sky.
I remember looking at you,... (Read full poem)

23. Snow - written by David Berman
From Actual Air. Published in 1999. Read 1872 times on American Poems.

Walking through a field with my little brother Seth

I pointed to a place where kids had made angels in the snow.
For some reason, I told him that a troop of angels
had been shot and dissolved when they hit the ground.

He asked who had shot them... (Read full poem)

FROM dark abodes to fair etherial light
Th' enraptur'd innocent has wing'd her flight;
On the kind bosom of eternal love
She finds unknown beatitude above.
This known, ye parents, nor her loss deplore,
She feels the iron hand of pain no... (Read full poem)

25. Christmas At The Orphanage - written by Bill Knott
Read 886 times on American Poems.

But if they'd give us toys and twice the stuff most
parents splurge on the average kid, orphans, I submit, need more than enough; 
in fact, stacks wrapped with our names nearly hid
the tree: these sparkling allotments yearly
guaranteed a lack... (Read full poem)