Books for National Novel Writing Month
For National Novel Writing Month in November, we have prepared a collection of books that will help students with their writing goals.
Introduction
1. O Lord
Poem in ThanksThomas Lux
How Many NightsGalway Kinnel
Welcome MorningAnne Sexton
Psalm 23from The Bay Psalm Book
At LeastRaymond Carver
Address to the LordJohn Berryman
O Karma, Dharma, pudding and piePhilip Appleman
PsalmReed Whittemore
Psalm 121Michael Wigglesworth
When one has lived a long time aloneGalway Kinnell
Home on the RangeAnonymous
What I Want IsC. G. Hanzlicek
2. A Day
Summer MorningCharles Simic
OtherwiseJane Kenyon
Poem About MorningWilliam Meredith
LivingDenise Levertov
Another SpringKenneth Rexroth
Morning PersonVassar Miller
RoutineArthur Guiterman
The Life of a DayTom Hennen
For My Son, Noah, Ten Years OldRobert Bly
I've known a Heaven, like a TentEmily Dickinson
Letter to N.Y.Elizabeth Bishop
DilemnaDavid Budbill
from Song of MyselfWalt Whitman
New YorkersEdward Field
Soaking Up SunTom Hennen
Late HoursLisel Mueller
3. Music
Scrambled Eggs and WhiskeyHayden Carruth
Mehitabel's SongDon Marquis
NightclubBilly Collins
Alley ViolinistRobert Lax
Cradle SongJim Schley
Her DoorMary Leader
The PupilDonald Justice
PianoD. H. Lawrence
Insrument of ChoiceRobert Phillips
Homage: Doo-WopJoseph Stroud
The Persistence of SongHoward Moss
Ooly Pop a CowDavid Huddle
Elevator MusicHenry Taylor
The Grain of SoundRobert Morgan
I Will Make You BroochesRobert Louis Stevenson
The DanceC. K. Williams
The InvestmentRobert Frost
The DumkaB. H. Fairchild
The Green Street Mortuary Marching BandLawrence Ferlinghetti
4. Scenes
Poem to Be Read at 3 A.M.Donald Justice
The Swimming PoolThomas Lux
DostoevskyCharles Bukowski
After a MovieHenry Taylor
Summer StormDana Gioia
Woolworth'sMark Irwin
Worked Late on a Tuesday NightDeborah Garrison
The FarmhouseReed Whittemore
wrist-wrestling fatherOrval Lund
Yorkshiremen in Pub GardensGavin Ewart
NoahRoy Daniells
5. Lovers
A Red, Red RoseRobert Burns
When I Heard at the Close of DayWalt Whitman
First LoveJohn Clare
He Wishes for the Cloths of HeavenW. B. Yeats
SonnetC. B. Trail
PoliticsW. B. Yeats
Magellan Street, 1974Maxine Kumin
AnimalsFrank O'Hara
Lending Out BooksHal Sirowitz
The Changed ManRobert Phillips
The Constant NorthJ. F. Hendry
On the Strength of All Conviction and the Stamina of LoveJennifer Michael Hecht
The LoftRichard Jones
This Is Just to SayWilliam Carlos Williams
This Is Just to SayErica-Lynn Gambino
Venetian AirThomas Moore
Summer MorningLouis Simpson
Comin thro' the RyeRobert Burns
TopograhySharon Olds
Saturday MorningHugo Williams
FlightLouis Jenkins
At Twenty-Three Weeks She Can No Longer See Anything South of Her BellyThom Ward
For the Life of Him and HerReed Whittemore
RomanticsLisel Mueller
Down in the ValleyAnonymous
The Middle YearsWalter McDonald
Winter Winds Cold and Blea...John Clare
since feeling is firste. e. cummings
VergissmeinnichtKeith Douglas
Sonnet XLIII What lips my lips have kissedEdna St. Vincent Millay
After the ArgumentStephen Dunn
The OrangeWendy Cope
SusquehannaLiz Rosenberg
Farm WifeR. S. Thomas
After Forty Years of Marriage, She Tries a New Recipe for Hamburger Hot DishLeo Dangel
Those Who LoveSara Teasdale
QuietlyKenneth Rexroth
For C.W.B.Elizabeth Bishop
ShorelinesHoward Moss
Prayer for a MarriageSteve Scafidi
The Master SpeedRobert Frost
Bonnard's NudesRaymond Carver
6. Day's Work
HappinessRaymond Carver
HoeingJohn Updike
Some Details of Hebridean House ConstructionThomas A. Clark
RelationsPhilip Booth
What I Learned from My MotherJulia Kasdorf
To be of useMarge Piercy
No Tool or Rope or PailBob Arnold
Ox Cart ManDonald Hall
Girl on a TractorJoyce Sutphen
SoybeansThomas Alan Orr
Landing PatternPhilip Appleman
Mae WestEdward Field
Hay for the HorsesGary Snyder
7. Sons and Daughters
Masterworks of MingKay Ryan
BessLinda Pastan
A Little ToothThomas Lux
Sonnet XXXVIIWilliam Shakespeare
EggC. G. Hanzlicek
Rolls-Royce DreamsGinger Andrews
My Life Before I Knew ItLawrence Raab
After WorkRichard Jones
I Stop Writing the PoemTess Gallagher
Franklin HydeHilaire Belloc
MannersElizabeth Bishop
September, the First Day of SchoolHoward Nemerov
First LessonPhilip Booth
ChildhoodBarbara Ras
Waving Good-ByeGerald Stern
Family ReunionMaxine Kumin
8. Language
A Primer of the Daily RoundHoward Nemerov
The Possessive CaseLisel Mueller
The Icelandic LanguageBill Holm
The Fantastic Names of JazzHayden Carruth
Ode to the Medieval PoetsW. H. Auden
Sweater WeatherSharon Bryan
9. A Good Life
We grow accustomed to the DarkEmily Dickinson
A Ritual to Read to Each OtherWilliam Stafford
CourageAnne Sexton
SometimesSheenagh Pugh
LeisureW. H. Davies
the way it is nowCharles Bukowski
A Secret LifeStephen Dunn
LostDavid Wagoner
Sonnet XXVWilliam Shakespeare
The Eel in the CaveRobert Bly
Wild GeeseMary Oliver
From the Manifesto of the SelfishStephen Dunn
HopeLisel Mueller
The Three GoalsDavid Budbill
VermeerHoward Nemerov
RepressionC. K. Williams
WeatherLinda Pastan
Moderation Is Not a Negation of Intensity, But Helps Avoid MonotonyJohn Tagliabue
Tell all the Truth but tell it slantEmily Dickinson
The Props assist the House...Emily Dickinson
10. Beasts
Little Citizen, Little SurvivorHayden Carruth
Her First CalfWendell Berry
BatsRandall Jarrell
Riding LessonHenry Taylor
Walking the DogHoward Nemerov
The Excrement PoemMaxine Kumin
Stanza IV from Coming of AgeUrsula Leguin
DestructionJoanne Kyger
How to See DeerPhilip Booth
Dog's DeathJohn Updike
Names of HorsesDonald Hall
Bison Crossing Near Mt. RushmoreMay Swenson
11. Failure
Success is counted sweetest...Emily Dickinson
SolitudeElla Wheeler Wilcox
The first time I rememberWendell Berry
Our Lady of the SnowsRobert Hass
The British Museum Reading RoomLouis MacNeice
The Bare Arms of TreesJohn Tagliabue
The SailorGeof Hewitt
A Place for EverythingLouis Jenkins
The FeastRobert Hass
Nobody Knows YouJimmie Cox
the last songCharles Bukowski
12. Complaint
The Forsaken WifeElizabeth Thomas
ConfessionStephen Dobyns
Living in the BodyJoyce Sutphen
Tired As I Can BeBessie Jackson
The Iceberg TheoryGerald Locklin
Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation FrontWendell Berry
A BookmarkTom Disch
poetry readingsCharles Bukowski
Publicationis the Auction...Emily Dickinson
13. Trips
Once in the 40sWilliam Stafford
lines from Moby DickHerman Melville
Rain TravelW. S. Merwin
where we areGerald Locklin
ExcelsiorHenry Wadsworth Longfellow
On a Tree Fallen Across the RoadRobert Frost
A Walk Along the Old TracksRobert Kinsley
PassengersBilly Collins
The Walloping Window-BlindCharles Edward Carryl
The VacationWendell Berry
DirectionsJoseph Stroud
PostscriptSeamus Heaney
Night JourneyTheodore Roethke
WaitingRaymond Carver
14. Snow
New HampshireHoward Moss
To fight aloud...Emily Dickinson
December MoonMay Sarton
Year's End Richard Wilbur
The Snow ManWallace Stevens
JanuaryBaron Wormser
in celebration of survivingChuck Miller
Her Long IllnessDonal Hall
RequiescatOscar Wilde
The Sixth of JanuaryDavid Budbill
Not Only the EskimosLisel Mueller
Boy at the WindowRichard Wilbur
Winter Poem
Frederick Morgan
Lester Tells of Wanda and the Big SnowPaul Zimmer
Old BoardsRobert Bly
March BlizzardJohn Tagliabue
15. Yellow
Elvis Kissed MeT. S. Kerrigan
Stepping Out of PoetryGerald Stern
I shall keep singing!Emily Dickinson
Song to OnionsRoy Blount, Jr.
O LuxuryGuy W. Longchamps
ComingKenneth Rexroth
A Light Left OnMay Sarton
The Yellow SlickerStuart Dischell
First KissApril Lindner
The Music One Looks Back OnStephen Dobyns
16. Lives
In a Prominent Bar in Secaucus One DayX. J. Kennedy
Who's WhoW. H. Auden
The PortraitStanley Kunitz
Parable of the Four-PosterErica Jong
EdLouis Simpson
MemoryHayden Carruth
LazyDavid Lee
TestimonialHarry Newman, Jr.
Cathedral BuildersJohn Ormond
The Village BurglarAnonymous
The ScandalRobert Bly
At Last the Secret Is OutW. H. Auden
Night LightKate Barnes
Sir Patrick SpensAnonymous
17. Elders
I Go Back to May 1937Sharon Olds
Those Winter SundaysRobert Hayden
The Old LiberatorsRobert Hedin
To My MotherWendell Berry
Working in the RainRobert Morgan
Birthday Card to My MotherPhilip Appleman
YesterdayW. S. Merwin
No MapStephen Dobyns
My MotherRobert Mezey
When My Dead Father CalledRobert Bly
August ThirdMay Sarton
TerminusRalph Waldo Emerson
18. The End
AuthorshipJames B(al) Naylor
Young and OldCharles Kingsley
Shifting the SunDiana Der-Hovanessian
My Dad's WalletRaymond Carver
When I Am AskedLisel Mueller
Dirge Without MusicEdna St. Vicent Millay
My mother said...Donald Hall
DeparturesLinda Pastan
As Befits a ManLangston Hughes
Sunt LeonesStevie Smith
Perfection WastedJohn Updike
Eleanor's LettersDonald Hall
Death and the TurtleMay Sarton
Four Poems in OneAnne Porter
TitanicDavid R. Slavitt
The Burial of Sir John Moore after CorunnaCharles Wolfe
KaddishDavid Ignatow
Twilight: After HayingJane Kenyon
For the Anniversary of My DeathW. S. Merwin
from The Old Italians DyingLawrence Ferlinghetti
Street BalladGeorge Barker
Let Evening ComeJane Kenyon
19. The Resurrection
Forty-FiveHayden Carruth
A BlessingJames Wright
Holy ThursdayWilliam Blake
lines from WaldenHenry David Thoreau
The Peace of Wild ThingsWendell Berry
From BlossomsLi-Young Lee
The First Green of SpringDavid Budhill
HereGrace Paley
The Lives of the HeartJane Hirshfield
SpringGerard Manley Hopkins
Fishing in the Keep of SilenceLinda Gregg
Biographies
Name Index
Title Index
Lord Whoever, thank you for this air
I'm about to in- and exhale, this hutch
in the woods, the wood for fire,
the light-both lamp and the natural stuff
of leaf-back, fern, and wing.
For the piano, the shovel
for ashes, the moth-gnawed
blankets, the stone-cold water
stone-cold: thank you.
Thank you, Lord, coming for
to carry me here-where I'll gnash
it out, Lord, where I'll calm
and work, Lord, thank you
for the goddamn birds singing!
How Many Nights
Galway Kinnell
How many nights
have I lain in terror,
O Creator Spirit, Maker of night and day,
only to walk out
the next morning over the frozen world
hearing under the creaking of snow
faint, peaceful breaths...
snake,
bear, earthworm, ant...
and above me
a wild crow crying 'yaw yaw yaw'
from a branch nothing cried from ever in my life.
Welcome Morning
Anne Sexton
There is joy
in all:
in the hair I brush each morning,
in the Cannon towel, newly washed,
that I rub my body with each morning,
in the chapel of eggs I cook
each morning,
in the outcry from the kettle
that heats my coffee
each morning,
in the spoon and the chair
that cry "hello there, Anne"
each morning,
in the godhead of the table
that I set my silver, plate, cup upon
each morning.
All this is God,
right here in my pea-green house
each morning
and I mean,
though often forget,
to give thanks,
to faint down by the kitchen table
in a prayer of rejoicing
as the holy birds at the kitchen window
peck into their marriage of seeds.
So while I think of it,
let me paint a thank-you on my palm
for this God, this laughter of the morning,
lest it go unspoken.
The Joy that isn't shared, I've heard,
dies young.
Psalm 23
from The Bay Psalm Book
The Lord to me a shepherd is,
want therefore shall not I:
He in the folds of tender grass,
doth cause me down to lie:
To waters calm me gently leads
restore my soul doth he:
He doth in paths of righteousness
for his name's sake lead me.
Yea, though in valley of death's shade
I walk, none ill I'll fear:
Because thou art with me, thy rod,
and staff my comfort are.
For me a table thou hast spread,
in presence of my foes:
Thou dost anoint my head with oil;
my cup it overflows.
Goodness and mercy surely shall
all my days follow me:
And in the Lord's house I shall dwell
so long as days shall be.
At Least
Raymond Carver
I want to get up early one more morning,
before sunrise. Before the birds, even.
I want to throw cold water on my face
and be at my work table
when the sky lightens and smoke
begins to rise from the chimneys
of the other houses.
I want to see the waves break
on this rocky beach, not just hear them
break as I did all night in my sleep.
I want to see again the ships
that pass through the Strait from every
seafaring country in the world-
old, dirty freighters just barely moving along,
and the swift new cargo vessels
painted every color under the sun
that cut the water as they pass.
I want to keep an eye out for them.
And for the little boat that plies
the water between the ships
and the pilot station near the lighthouse.
I want to see them take a man off the ship
and put another up on board.
I want to spend the day watching this happen
and reach my own conclusions.
I hate to seem greedy-I have so much
to be thankful for already.
But I want to get up early one more morning, at least.
And go to my place with some coffee and wait.
Just wait, to see what's going to happen.
Address to the Lord
John Berryman
1
Master of beauty, craftsman of the snowflake,
inimitable contriver,
endower of Earth so gorgeous & different from the boring Moon,
thank you for such as it is my gift.
I have made up a morning prayer to you
containing with precision everything that most matters.
'According to Thy will' the thing begins.
It took me off & on two days. It does not aim at eloquence.
You have come to my rescue again & again
in my impassable, sometimes despairing years.
You have allowed my brilliant friends to destroy themselves
and I am still here, severely damaged, but functioning.
Unknowable, as I am unknown to my guinea pigs:
How can I 'love' you?
I only as far as gratitude & awe
confidently & absolutely go.
I have no idea whether we live again.
It doesn't seem likely
from either the scientific or the philosophical point of view
but certainly all things are possible to you,
and I believe as fixedly in the Resurrection-appearances to Peter and
to Paul
as I believe I sit in this blue chair.
Only that may have been a special case
to establish their initiatory faith.
Whatever your end may be, accept my amazement.
May I stand until death forever at attention
for any your least instruction or enlightenment.
I even feel sure you will assist me again, Master of insight & beauty.
Philip Appleman
O Karma, Dharma, pudding and pie,
gimme a break before I die:
grant me wisdom, will, & wit,
purity, probity, pluck, & grit.
Trustworthy, loyal, helpful, kind,
gimme great abs & a steel-trap mind,
and forgive, Ye Gods, some humble advice-
these little blessings would suffice
to beget an earthly paradise:
make the bad people good-
and the good people nice;
and before our world goes over the brink,
teach the believers how to think.
Introduction
1. O Lord
Poem in ThanksThomas Lux
How Many NightsGalway Kinnel
Welcome MorningAnne Sexton
Psalm 23from The Bay Psalm Book
At LeastRaymond Carver
Address to the LordJohn Berryman
O Karma, Dharma, pudding and piePhilip Appleman
PsalmReed Whittemore
Psalm 121Michael Wigglesworth
When one has lived a long time aloneGalway Kinnell
Home on the RangeAnonymous
What I Want IsC. G. Hanzlicek
2. A Day
Summer MorningCharles Simic
OtherwiseJane Kenyon
Poem About MorningWilliam Meredith
LivingDenise Levertov
Another SpringKenneth Rexroth
Morning PersonVassar Miller
RoutineArthur Guiterman
The Life of a DayTom Hennen
For My Son, Noah, Ten Years OldRobert Bly
I've known a Heaven, like a TentEmily Dickinson
Letter to N.Y.Elizabeth Bishop
DilemnaDavid Budbill
from Song of MyselfWalt Whitman
New YorkersEdward Field
Soaking Up SunTom Hennen
Late HoursLisel Mueller
3. Music
Scrambled Eggs and WhiskeyHayden Carruth
Mehitabel's SongDon Marquis
NightclubBilly Collins
Alley ViolinistRobert Lax
Cradle SongJim Schley
Her DoorMary Leader
The PupilDonald Justice
PianoD. H. Lawrence
Insrument of ChoiceRobert Phillips
Homage: Doo-WopJoseph Stroud
The Persistence of SongHoward Moss
Ooly Pop a CowDavid Huddle
Elevator MusicHenry Taylor
The Grain of SoundRobert Morgan
I Will Make You BroochesRobert Louis Stevenson
The DanceC. K. Williams
The InvestmentRobert Frost
The DumkaB. H. Fairchild
The Green Street Mortuary Marching BandLawrence Ferlinghetti
4. Scenes
Poem to Be Read at 3 A.M.Donald Justice
The Swimming PoolThomas Lux
DostoevskyCharles Bukowski
After a MovieHenry Taylor
Summer StormDana Gioia
Woolworth'sMark Irwin
Worked Late on a Tuesday NightDeborah Garrison
The FarmhouseReed Whittemore
wrist-wrestling fatherOrval Lund
Yorkshiremen in Pub GardensGavin Ewart
NoahRoy Daniells
5. Lovers
A Red, Red RoseRobert Burns
When I Heard at the Close of DayWalt Whitman
First LoveJohn Clare
He Wishes for the Cloths of HeavenW. B. Yeats
SonnetC. B. Trail
PoliticsW. B. Yeats
Magellan Street, 1974Maxine Kumin
AnimalsFrank O'Hara
Lending Out BooksHal Sirowitz
The Changed ManRobert Phillips
The Constant NorthJ. F. Hendry
On the Strength of All Conviction and the Stamina of LoveJennifer Michael Hecht
The LoftRichard Jones
This Is Just to SayWilliam Carlos Williams
This Is Just to SayErica-Lynn Gambino
Venetian AirThomas Moore
Summer MorningLouis Simpson
Comin thro' the RyeRobert Burns
TopograhySharon Olds
Saturday MorningHugo Williams
FlightLouis Jenkins
At Twenty-Three Weeks She Can No Longer See Anything South of Her BellyThom Ward
For the Life of Him and HerReed Whittemore
RomanticsLisel Mueller
Down in the ValleyAnonymous
The Middle YearsWalter McDonald
Winter Winds Cold and Blea...John Clare
since feeling is firste. e. cummings
VergissmeinnichtKeith Douglas
Sonnet XLIII What lips my lips have kissedEdna St. Vincent Millay
After the ArgumentStephen Dunn
The OrangeWendy Cope
SusquehannaLiz Rosenberg
Farm WifeR. S. Thomas
After Forty Years of Marriage, She Tries a New Recipe for Hamburger Hot DishLeo Dangel
Those Who LoveSara Teasdale
QuietlyKenneth Rexroth
For C.W.B.Elizabeth Bishop
ShorelinesHoward Moss
Prayer for a MarriageSteve Scafidi
The Master SpeedRobert Frost
Bonnard's NudesRaymond Carver
6. Day's Work
HappinessRaymond Carver
HoeingJohn Updike
Some Details of Hebridean House ConstructionThomas A. Clark
RelationsPhilip Booth
What I Learned from My MotherJulia Kasdorf
To be of useMarge Piercy
No Tool or Rope or PailBob Arnold
Ox Cart ManDonald Hall
Girl on a TractorJoyce Sutphen
SoybeansThomas Alan Orr
Landing PatternPhilip Appleman
Mae WestEdward Field
Hay for the HorsesGary Snyder
7. Sons and Daughters
Masterworks of MingKay Ryan
BessLinda Pastan
A Little ToothThomas Lux
Sonnet XXXVIIWilliam Shakespeare
EggC. G. Hanzlicek
Rolls-Royce DreamsGinger Andrews
My Life Before I Knew ItLawrence Raab
After WorkRichard Jones
I Stop Writing the PoemTess Gallagher
Franklin HydeHilaire Belloc
MannersElizabeth Bishop
September, the First Day of SchoolHoward Nemerov
First LessonPhilip Booth
ChildhoodBarbara Ras
Waving Good-ByeGerald Stern
Family ReunionMaxine Kumin
8. Language
A Primer of the Daily RoundHoward Nemerov
The Possessive CaseLisel Mueller
The Icelandic LanguageBill Holm
The Fantastic Names of JazzHayden Carruth
Ode to the Medieval PoetsW. H. Auden
Sweater WeatherSharon Bryan
9. A Good Life
We grow accustomed to the DarkEmily Dickinson
A Ritual to Read to Each OtherWilliam Stafford
CourageAnne Sexton
SometimesSheenagh Pugh
LeisureW. H. Davies
the way it is nowCharles Bukowski
A Secret LifeStephen Dunn
LostDavid Wagoner
Sonnet XXVWilliam Shakespeare
The Eel in the CaveRobert Bly
Wild GeeseMary Oliver
From the Manifesto of the SelfishStephen Dunn
HopeLisel Mueller
The Three GoalsDavid Budbill
VermeerHoward Nemerov
RepressionC. K. Williams
WeatherLinda Pastan
Moderation Is Not a Negation of Intensity, But Helps Avoid MonotonyJohn Tagliabue
Tell all the Truth but tell it slantEmily Dickinson
The Props assist the House...Emily Dickinson
10. Beasts
Little Citizen, Little SurvivorHayden Carruth
Her First CalfWendell Berry
BatsRandall Jarrell
Riding LessonHenry Taylor
Walking the DogHoward Nemerov
The Excrement PoemMaxine Kumin
Stanza IV from Coming of AgeUrsula Leguin
DestructionJoanne Kyger
How to See DeerPhilip Booth
Dog's DeathJohn Updike
Names of HorsesDonald Hall
Bison Crossing Near Mt. RushmoreMay Swenson
11. Failure
Success is counted sweetest...Emily Dickinson
SolitudeElla Wheeler Wilcox
The first time I rememberWendell Berry
Our Lady of the SnowsRobert Hass
The British Museum Reading RoomLouis MacNeice
The Bare Arms of TreesJohn Tagliabue
The SailorGeof Hewitt
A Place for EverythingLouis Jenkins
The FeastRobert Hass
Nobody Knows YouJimmie Cox
the last songCharles Bukowski
12. Complaint
The Forsaken WifeElizabeth Thomas
ConfessionStephen Dobyns
Living in the BodyJoyce Sutphen
Tired As I Can BeBessie Jackson
The Iceberg TheoryGerald Locklin
Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation FrontWendell Berry
A BookmarkTom Disch
poetry readingsCharles Bukowski
Publicationis the Auction...Emily Dickinson
13. Trips
Once in the 40sWilliam Stafford
lines from Moby DickHerman Melville
Rain TravelW. S. Merwin
where we areGerald Locklin
ExcelsiorHenry Wadsworth Longfellow
On a Tree Fallen Across the RoadRobert Frost
A Walk Along the Old TracksRobert Kinsley
PassengersBilly Collins
The Walloping Window-BlindCharles Edward Carryl
The VacationWendell Berry
DirectionsJoseph Stroud
PostscriptSeamus Heaney
Night JourneyTheodore Roethke
WaitingRaymond Carver
14. Snow
New HampshireHoward Moss
To fight aloud...Emily Dickinson
December MoonMay Sarton
Year's End Richard Wilbur
The Snow ManWallace Stevens
JanuaryBaron Wormser
in celebration of survivingChuck Miller
Her Long IllnessDonal Hall
RequiescatOscar Wilde
The Sixth of JanuaryDavid Budbill
Not Only the EskimosLisel Mueller
Boy at the WindowRichard Wilbur
Winter Poem
Frederick Morgan
Lester Tells of Wanda and the Big SnowPaul Zimmer
Old BoardsRobert Bly
March BlizzardJohn Tagliabue
15. Yellow
Elvis Kissed MeT. S. Kerrigan
Stepping Out of PoetryGerald Stern
I shall keep singing!Emily Dickinson
Song to OnionsRoy Blount, Jr.
O LuxuryGuy W. Longchamps
ComingKenneth Rexroth
A Light Left OnMay Sarton
The Yellow SlickerStuart Dischell
First KissApril Lindner
The Music One Looks Back OnStephen Dobyns
16. Lives
In a Prominent Bar in Secaucus One DayX. J. Kennedy
Who's WhoW. H. Auden
The PortraitStanley Kunitz
Parable of the Four-PosterErica Jong
EdLouis Simpson
MemoryHayden Carruth
LazyDavid Lee
TestimonialHarry Newman, Jr.
Cathedral BuildersJohn Ormond
The Village BurglarAnonymous
The ScandalRobert Bly
At Last the Secret Is OutW. H. Auden
Night LightKate Barnes
Sir Patrick SpensAnonymous
17. Elders
I Go Back to May 1937Sharon Olds
Those Winter SundaysRobert Hayden
The Old LiberatorsRobert Hedin
To My MotherWendell Berry
Working in the RainRobert Morgan
Birthday Card to My MotherPhilip Appleman
YesterdayW. S. Merwin
No MapStephen Dobyns
My MotherRobert Mezey
When My Dead Father CalledRobert Bly
August ThirdMay Sarton
TerminusRalph Waldo Emerson
18. The End
AuthorshipJames B(al) Naylor
Young and OldCharles Kingsley
Shifting the SunDiana Der-Hovanessian
My Dad's WalletRaymond Carver
When I Am AskedLisel Mueller
Dirge Without MusicEdna St. Vicent Millay
My mother said...Donald Hall
DeparturesLinda Pastan
As Befits a ManLangston Hughes
Sunt LeonesStevie Smith
Perfection WastedJohn Updike
Eleanor's LettersDonald Hall
Death and the TurtleMay Sarton
Four Poems in OneAnne Porter
TitanicDavid R. Slavitt
The Burial of Sir John Moore after CorunnaCharles Wolfe
KaddishDavid Ignatow
Twilight: After HayingJane Kenyon
For the Anniversary of My DeathW. S. Merwin
from The Old Italians DyingLawrence Ferlinghetti
Street BalladGeorge Barker
Let Evening ComeJane Kenyon
19. The Resurrection
Forty-FiveHayden Carruth
A BlessingJames Wright
Holy ThursdayWilliam Blake
lines from WaldenHenry David Thoreau
The Peace of Wild ThingsWendell Berry
From BlossomsLi-Young Lee
The First Green of SpringDavid Budhill
HereGrace Paley
The Lives of the HeartJane Hirshfield
SpringGerard Manley Hopkins
Fishing in the Keep of SilenceLinda Gregg
Biographies
Name Index
Title Index
Lord Whoever, thank you for this air
I'm about to in- and exhale, this hutch
in the woods, the wood for fire,
the light-both lamp and the natural stuff
of leaf-back, fern, and wing.
For the piano, the shovel
for ashes, the moth-gnawed
blankets, the stone-cold water
stone-cold: thank you.
Thank you, Lord, coming for
to carry me here-where I'll gnash
it out, Lord, where I'll calm
and work, Lord, thank you
for the goddamn birds singing!
How Many Nights
Galway Kinnell
How many nights
have I lain in terror,
O Creator Spirit, Maker of night and day,
only to walk out
the next morning over the frozen world
hearing under the creaking of snow
faint, peaceful breaths...
snake,
bear, earthworm, ant...
and above me
a wild crow crying 'yaw yaw yaw'
from a branch nothing cried from ever in my life.
Welcome Morning
Anne Sexton
There is joy
in all:
in the hair I brush each morning,
in the Cannon towel, newly washed,
that I rub my body with each morning,
in the chapel of eggs I cook
each morning,
in the outcry from the kettle
that heats my coffee
each morning,
in the spoon and the chair
that cry "hello there, Anne"
each morning,
in the godhead of the table
that I set my silver, plate, cup upon
each morning.
All this is God,
right here in my pea-green house
each morning
and I mean,
though often forget,
to give thanks,
to faint down by the kitchen table
in a prayer of rejoicing
as the holy birds at the kitchen window
peck into their marriage of seeds.
So while I think of it,
let me paint a thank-you on my palm
for this God, this laughter of the morning,
lest it go unspoken.
The Joy that isn't shared, I've heard,
dies young.
Psalm 23
from The Bay Psalm Book
The Lord to me a shepherd is,
want therefore shall not I:
He in the folds of tender grass,
doth cause me down to lie:
To waters calm me gently leads
restore my soul doth he:
He doth in paths of righteousness
for his name's sake lead me.
Yea, though in valley of death's shade
I walk, none ill I'll fear:
Because thou art with me, thy rod,
and staff my comfort are.
For me a table thou hast spread,
in presence of my foes:
Thou dost anoint my head with oil;
my cup it overflows.
Goodness and mercy surely shall
all my days follow me:
And in the Lord's house I shall dwell
so long as days shall be.
At Least
Raymond Carver
I want to get up early one more morning,
before sunrise. Before the birds, even.
I want to throw cold water on my face
and be at my work table
when the sky lightens and smoke
begins to rise from the chimneys
of the other houses.
I want to see the waves break
on this rocky beach, not just hear them
break as I did all night in my sleep.
I want to see again the ships
that pass through the Strait from every
seafaring country in the world-
old, dirty freighters just barely moving along,
and the swift new cargo vessels
painted every color under the sun
that cut the water as they pass.
I want to keep an eye out for them.
And for the little boat that plies
the water between the ships
and the pilot station near the lighthouse.
I want to see them take a man off the ship
and put another up on board.
I want to spend the day watching this happen
and reach my own conclusions.
I hate to seem greedy-I have so much
to be thankful for already.
But I want to get up early one more morning, at least.
And go to my place with some coffee and wait.
Just wait, to see what's going to happen.
Address to the Lord
John Berryman
1
Master of beauty, craftsman of the snowflake,
inimitable contriver,
endower of Earth so gorgeous & different from the boring Moon,
thank you for such as it is my gift.
I have made up a morning prayer to you
containing with precision everything that most matters.
'According to Thy will' the thing begins.
It took me off & on two days. It does not aim at eloquence.
You have come to my rescue again & again
in my impassable, sometimes despairing years.
You have allowed my brilliant friends to destroy themselves
and I am still here, severely damaged, but functioning.
Unknowable, as I am unknown to my guinea pigs:
How can I 'love' you?
I only as far as gratitude & awe
confidently & absolutely go.
I have no idea whether we live again.
It doesn't seem likely
from either the scientific or the philosophical point of view
but certainly all things are possible to you,
and I believe as fixedly in the Resurrection-appearances to Peter and
to Paul
as I believe I sit in this blue chair.
Only that may have been a special case
to establish their initiatory faith.
Whatever your end may be, accept my amazement.
May I stand until death forever at attention
for any your least instruction or enlightenment.
I even feel sure you will assist me again, Master of insight & beauty.
Philip Appleman
O Karma, Dharma, pudding and pie,
gimme a break before I die:
grant me wisdom, will, & wit,
purity, probity, pluck, & grit.
Trustworthy, loyal, helpful, kind,
gimme great abs & a steel-trap mind,
and forgive, Ye Gods, some humble advice-
these little blessings would suffice
to beget an earthly paradise:
make the bad people good-
and the good people nice;
and before our world goes over the brink,
teach the believers how to think.
For National Novel Writing Month in November, we have prepared a collection of books that will help students with their writing goals.
In celebration of Native American Heritage Month this November, Penguin Random House Education is highlighting books that detail the history of Native Americans, and stories that explore Native American culture and experiences. Browse our collection here: Books for Native American Heritage Month