Good Poems for Hard Times
A collection of poems pulled together by Garrison Keillor
Prayer
by Galway Kinnell
Whatever happens. Whatever
what is is what
I want. Only that. But that.

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There is nothing better than being stranded in your own city for a few hours sometimes. Lapster was working on Sunday, and I was “wasting a few hours” downtown in Seattle. I stumbled through a few boutiques looking at dresses I would never wear (but I do have fantasies that I might wear [...]

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I have a book of called “Poem A Day” filled with — of course, one poem for every day of the year. Occasionally, I take it down off the shelf and put a new poem on the whiteboard behind our closet. Today, was J. Alfred Prufrock — I read a lot of [...]

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Death called me,
I did not hear.
He spoke again:
Come near.
I went to look
for pity.
Poor death, I thought,
he loves me.
I guessed right,
he does.
And now I love him too,
just because.
By Andrew Motion
I know I said I would take a break from poetry, but let me explain. One of my favorite Poetry books is call “The World’s Wife” [...]

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Through an accidental crack in the curtain
I can see the eight o’clock light change from
charcoal to a faint gassy blue, inventing things
in the morning that has a thick skin of ice on it
as the water tank has, so nothing flows, all is bone,
telling its tale of how hard the night had to be
for any heart [...]

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Knock knock!
Who’s there?
Me!
Me who?
That’s right!
What’s right?
Meehoo!
That’s what I want to know!
What’s what you want to know?
Me, who?
Yes, exactly!
Exactly what?
Yes, I have an Exactlywatt on a chain!
Exactly what on a chain?
Yes!
Yes what?
No, Exactlywatt!
That’s what I want to know!
I told you – Exactlywatt!
Exactly what?
Yes!
Yes what?
Yes, it’s with me!
What’s with you?
Exactlywatt – that’s what’s with me.
Me who?
Yes!
Go away!
Knock [...]

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so much depends
upon a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.
By William Carlos Williams

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This poem about ice cream
has nothing to do with government
with riot, with any political scheme
It is a poem about ice cream.You see?
About how you might stroll into a shop and ask;
One Strawberry Split. One Mivvi.
What did I tell you ?
No one will die.
No licking tongues will melt like candle wax.
This is a poem about ice [...]

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At the end of my suffering
there was a door.
Hear me out: that which you call death
I remember.
Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting.
Then nothing. The weak sun
flickered over the dry surface.
It is terrible to survive
as consciousness
buried in the dark earth.
Then it was over: that which you fear, being
a soul and unable
to speak, ending abruptly, the [...]

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Sometimes I have wanted
to throw you off
like a heavy coat.
Sometimes I have said
you would not let me
breathe or move.
But now that I am free
to choose light clothes
or none at all
I feel the cold
and all the time I think
how warm it used to be.
By Vicki Feaver

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