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Popular Red Poems

The Faerie Queene: Book I, Canto I

by Edmund Spenser

THE FIRST BOOKE OF THE FAERIE QUEENE
Contayning
THE LEGENDE OF THE KNIGHT OF THE
RED CROSSE, OR OF HOLINESSEProemi
Lo I the man, whose Muse whilome did maske,
As time her taught in lowly Shepheards weeds,
Am now enforst a far unfitter taske,
For trumpets sterne to chaunge mine Oaten reeds,
And sing of Knights and Ladies gentle deeds;
Whose prayses having slept in silence long,

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Green Chile

by Jimmy Santiago Baca

I prefer red chile over my eggs
and potatoes for breakfast.
Red chile ristras decorate my door,
dry on my roof, and hang from eaves.
They lend open-air vegetable stands
historical grandeur, and gently swing
with an air of festive welcome.
I can hear them talking in the wind,
haggard, yellowing, crisp, rasping
tongues of old men, licking the breeze.

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The Toys

by Coventry Patmore

My little Son, who look'd from thoughtful eyes
And moved and spoke in quiet grown-up wise,
Having my law the seventh time disobey'd,
I struck him, and dismiss'd
With hard words and unkiss'd,
—His Mother, who was patient, being dead.
Then, fearing lest his grief should hinder sleep,
I visited his bed,
But found him slumbering deep,
With darken'd eyelids, and their lashes yet

......

The Butcher's Son

by Thom Gunn

Mr Pierce the butcher
Got news his son was missing
About a month before
The closing of the war.
A bald man, tall and careful,
He stood in his shop and found
No bottom to his sadness,
Nowhere for it to stop.
When my aunt came through the door
Delivering the milk,

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Tartary

by Walter de la Mare

If I were Lord of Tartary,
Myself, and me alone,
My bed should be of ivory,
Of beaten gold my throne;
And in my court should peacocks flaunt,
And in my forests tigers haunt,
And in my pools great fishes slant
Their fins athwart the sun.

If I were Lord of Tartary,

......

Recent Red Poems

Cerc de roșu

by Sanja Atanasovska

Nu mai simt nimic.
Două uși mi-am sculptat în inimă,
una de intrare, alta de ieșire.
Am îmbătrânit cumpărând brățări de magie albă.
Paharele de sticlă îmi pizmuiesc fragilitatea.
Egoismul e un nod ce strânge conștiința.
Dacă lumea se sfârșește,
adună-mă în cercul tău de roșu.

poet- Sanja Atanasovska, North Macedonia

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Garnet

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

Gadabout butterflies
glitter like red sunset.
Gem sparkles in the west.
Gracious nature provides
glamour hues in winter.
Glad robin sings, lustrous.
Goodbye, last robustness.

Flower of Christmas

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

mint green Christmas and
star shaped poinsettias point
at the golden hour

red plant revelry
and hoot owl's quiet in snow
mauve sun is setting

pretty centerpiece
where loved ones gather laughing

......

People's Voice at the End of Twilight

by Ayatullah Nurjati

at the edge of the red twilight, the voice of the people echoed weakly.
In unheard whispers, there is hope that is increasingly fading.
The streets are full of grey dust, leaving footprints without a new destination.

Behind the glitter of the bustling city, they are overlooked in a gloomy shadow of silence and peace. The voices of the people who are tired of screaming, reaching for justice which is increasingly difficult.

Burned by empty promises, but still hopeful in wounded hope.
Dusk turns into dark night, But the voice never went away. In the hearts of those who continue to groan, there is a prayer that strengthens the weary soul.

Strawberry Autumn

by Evelyn Judy Buehler

plump red strawberries
the kind we knew last red dusk
when time inched by brusque

garnet stars flash on
scarlet leaves and cardinals
mars phenomenal

crimson dragonflies
when fruitful days are going

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