There are 195 Poems that have a first line beginning with "b"

Behold, the grave of a wicked man,
"Behold, the grave of a wicked man"
By Stephen Crane

Because it is what he says always, to anyone
"God Loves You, and So Do I"
By Michael C. Blumenthal

Because of the first, the fear of wreck,
"Wreck" and "rise above"
By Eleanor Wilner

Brushing out our daughter’s brown
35/10
By Sharon Olds

Before the break of day the minister was awakened
Deerfield:1703
By Charles Reznikoff

Bird of the bitter bright grey golden morn
A Ballad of François Villon, Prince of All Ballad-Makers
By Algernon Charles Swinburne

Babies must not eat the coal
A Few Rules for Beginners
By Katherine Mansfield

Black, under the candlesticks, moving in harness
A Late History
By Weldon Kees

By the blue taper's trembling light,
A Night-Piece on Death
By Thomas Parnell

Bees build around red liver,
A Poor Christian Looks at the Ghetto
By Czeslaw Milosz

Beside a spreading elm, from whose high boughs
A Reverie
By Joanna Baillie

Between pond and sheepbarn, by maples and watery birches,
A Sister on the Tracks
By Donald Hall

By a dismal cypress lying,
A Song from the Italian from Limberham: or, the Kind Keeper
By John Dryden

But in the end one tires of the high-flown.
About the Phoenix
By James Merrill

Being unwise enough to have married her
Acting
By R. S. Thomas

Because in Vietnam the vision of a Burning Babe
Advent 1966
By Denise Levertov

Because there are avenues
After Tonight
By Gary Soto

Best of all is to be idle,
Against Whatever It Is That’s Encroaching
By Charles Simic

Before I’d felt the promised kiss of either—
An American Tale of Sex and Death
By Kevin Stein

But do not let us quarrel any more,
Andrea del Sarto
By Robert Browning

Burning, he walks in the stream of flickering letters, clarinets,
Artificer
By Czeslaw Milosz

Be your words made, good sir, of Indian ware,
Astrophel and Stella XCII
By Philip Sidney

Brown gas-fog, white
At the Justice Department November 15, 1969
By Denise Levertov

Be music, night,
‘Be Music, Night’
By Kenneth Patchen

Baa, baa, black sheep
Baa, Baa, Black Sheep
By Anonymous

born gorgeous with nerves, with brains
Babies
By Alice Fulton

Baby ate a microchip,
Baby Ate a Microchip
By Neal Levin

Back when I used to be Indian
Battlefield
By Mark Turcotte

Be glad your nose is on your face,
Be Glad Your Nose Is on Your Face
By Jack Prelutsky

Be still. The Hanging Gardens were a dream
Be Still. The Hanging Gardens were a Dream
By Trumbull Stickney

Beat! beat! drums!—blow! bugles! blow!
Beat! Beat! Drums!
By Walt Whitman

Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
Beautiful Dreamer Serenade
By Stephen C. Foster

Because I could not stop for Death –
Because I could not stop for Death – (479)
By Emily Dickinson

Before I got my eye put out –
Before I got my eye put out – (336)
By Emily Dickinson

Before you is Corinth—
Before You
By Carl Rakosi

Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine!
Blessed Assurance
By Frances Jane Crosby Van Alstyne

Blue of the heaps of beads poured into her breasts
Blue Monday
By Diane Wakoski

Boil over—it’s what the nerves do,
Boil
By Alicia Ostriker

Bottles on the closet floor,
Border Crossings
By David Wojahn

Born like the pines to sing,
Born Like the Pines
By James Ephriam McGirt

Break, break, break,
Break, Break, Break
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—
Bright Star, Would I were Steadfast as Thou Art
By John Keats

Buffalo Bill 's
Buffalo Bill 's
By E. E. Cummings

Before my drift-wood fire I sit,
Burning Drift-Wood
By John Greenleaf Whittier

Butter, like love,
Butter
By Connie Wanek

Billie Holiday’s burned voice
Canary
By Rita Dove

Because the silence of the dead,
Cancer and Complaint at Midsummer
By C. Dale Young

Below the gardens and the darkening pines
Carmel Highlands
By Janet Loxley Lewis

Big Boy came
Catch
By Langston Hughes

Before you, I was living on an island
Celebration for June 24
By Thomas McGrath

By the verge of the sea a man finds a gelatinous creature,
Chimera
By Carol Frost

Blindfold I should to Myra run,
from Chloe and Myra
By Sophia Burrell

By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
Concord Hymn
By Ralph Waldo Emerson

Because with alarming accuracy
Connubial
By Stephen Dunn

Bargain tarts, raspberry, goose,
Day-Old Bargain
By Hilda Raz

Black milk of daybreak we drink it at evening
Deathfugue
By Paul Celan

But love whilst that thou mayst be loved again,
Delia XXXII
By Samuel Daniel

But love whilst that thou mayst be loved again,
Delia XXXVI
By Samuel Daniel

Between my finger and my thumb
Digging
By Seamus Heaney

Before my first communion, I clung to doubt
Disgraceland
By Mary Karr

By a route obscure and lonely,
Dream-Land
By Edgar Allan Poe

Baudelaire: "The dead, the poor dead, have their bad hours."
But the dead have no watches, no grief and no hours.
Drizzle
By William Matthews

Because she did such terrible things to them
Elena
By Irving Feldman

Baby, give me just
Errata
By Kevin Young

By the stream, where the ground is soft
Ex Libris
By Eleanor Wilner

But where, oh where is the holy idiot,
Fable
By Tom Sleigh

Better trust all, and be deceived,
Faith
By Frances Anne Kemble

Because you’ll find how hard it can be
For a Girl I Know about to Be a Woman
By Miller Williams

Because the eye has a short shadow or
Fundamentalism
By Naomi Shihab Nye

Both of us had been close
Graves
By Hayden Carruth

Be like a bear in the forest of yourself.
Great As You Are
By Susan Griffin

Bulkeley, Hunt, Willard, Hosmer, Meriam, Flint,
Hamatreya
By Ralph Waldo Emerson

Back when it took all day to come up
Hearing
By W. S. Merwin

Because this evening Miss Hoang Yen
Her Life Runs Like a Red Silk Flag
By Bruce Weigl

Behold and soak like a sponge.
Here Is an Ear Hear
By Victor Hernández Cruz

Batter my heart, three-person'd God, for you
Holy Sonnets: Batter my heart, three-person'd God
By John Donne

Because it hadn't seemed enough,
Home Movies: A Sort of Ode
By Mary Jo Salter

Before you step into the mist and spray
Hotel Showers of the World
By Roddy Lumsden

By night we linger'd on the lawn,
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: 95
By Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Because of bad weather,
In the Year Eight Hundred
By Jane Hirshfield

But that which most I wonder at, which most
Innocence
By Thomas Traherne

Bloodshed cries Ai Ai
Inverkirkaig
By Anne Stevenson

Before the God-bullied hull, call me—
Ishmael, or The Orphan
By Dan Beachy-Quick

Beautifully Janet slept
Janet Waking
By John Crowe Ransom

Beautiful as the flying legend of some leopard
Judith of Bethulia
By John Crowe Ransom

Breathing in, I breathe the skin of trees,
Key of Dust
By Joyce Sutphen

beside me in this garden
Korean mums
By James Schuyler

Boughs berserk
Landscape
By Samuel Menashe

Before you can learn the trees, you have to learn
Learning the Trees
By Howard Nemerov

because it has no pure products
Learning to Love America
By Shirley Geok-Lin Lim

Before you go further,
Let Me Tell You What a Poem Brings
By Juan Felipe Herrera

But the buried walls and our mouths of fragments,
Letter 7
By Michael Palmer

Behind the smooth texture
Like an Animal
By Jimmy Santiago Baca

Body is something you need in order to stay
Living in the Body
By Joyce Sutphen

Before devising, your chicken you do not have to count.
Lost in Translation
By Peter Pereira

Between the hands, between the brows,
Love-Lily
By Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Before anything could happen,
Lyre
By Donald Revell

Beside the rivers of the midnight town
Madrigal in Time of War
By John Frederick Nims

Before balance, before counting, before
Man Dancing with a Baby
By Susan Stewart

Because the ostracized experience the world
Mary Shelley in Brigantine
By Stephen Dunn

Barrels of chains. Sides of beef stacked in vans.
Measuring the Tyger
By Jack Gilbert

Beneath lilac clusters on a plain
Miniature
By Brad Leithauser

By this he knew she wept with waking eyes:
Modern Love: I
By George Meredith

By such an all-embalming summer day
Near Helikon
By Trumbull Stickney

Blood-drop, lung of fire setting past
Night Ferry
By Peter Sacks

Blow out, you bugles, over the rich Dead!
Nineteen-Fourteen: The Dead
By Rupert Brooke

Boll-weevil’s coming, and the winter’s cold,
November Cotton Flower
By Jean Toomer

Because of the unaccountable spirit of the troops
On the Civil War on the East Coast of the United States of North America 1860-64
By Alan Dugan

Brooklyn, 1929. Of course Crane’s
On the Meeting of Garcia Lorca and Hart Crane
By Philip Levine

Believing each simple thing passes from a perception that is less clear
Pear
By Susan Stewart

Between people’s
Perpetuum Mobile
By Marin Sorescu

Beasts rearing from green slime—
Perspectives
By R. S. Thomas

Beauty, I’ve seen you
Poetics
By Yusef Komunyakaa

Because it sickens her, she scrubs
Politics of Mop and Sponge
By Kevin Stein

Blackness
Primer For Blacks
By Gwendolyn Brooks

Barely twenty-five, he smells
Prisoner in a Hole
By Sholeh Wolpé

BLOW, LONG TRADE WINDS of American speech,
Proem to American Song
By Paul Engle

Because, you know,
Promises Are for Liars
By James Galvin

By that he ended had his ghostly sermon,
Prosopopoia: or Mother Hubbard's Tale
By Edmund Spenser

breath,
Quality: Gwendolyn Brooks at 73
By Haki Madhubuti

Body my house
Question
By May Swenson

Black reapers with the sound of steel on stones
Reapers
By Jean Toomer

Because he was a butcher and thereby
Reuben Bright
By Edwin Arlington Robinson

Barbed wires on rusted nails can’t hold
Riding Herd
By Walter McDonald

Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,
Rock Me to Sleep
By Elizabeth Akers Allen

By accident, you put
San Francisco
By Richard Brautigan

Begotten by the meeting of rock with rock,
Sea Holly
By Conrad Aiken

Brothers and sisters, who live after us,
Separation at Burnt Island
By D. Nurkse

Balmy overcast nights of late September;
Skin Cancer
By Mark Jarman

Being your slave, what should I do but tend
Sonnet LVII: Being your slave, what should I do but tend
By William Shakespeare

Behold that tree, in Autumn’s dim decay,
Sonnet XCII
By Anna Seward

Beloved, my Beloved, when I think
Sonnets from the Portuguese 20: Beloved, my Beloved
By Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers
Sonnets from the Portuguese 44: Beloved, thou has brought me many flowers
By Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Barely tolerated, living on the margin
Soonest Mended
By John Ashbery

By night they haunted a thicket of April mist,
Spectral Lovers
By John Crowe Ransom

Beyond the strings of water
Sunday Afternoon
By C. Dale Young

Bing Crosby died in Spain
while playing golf with Franco
but who could care less, and at this
writing only a few of
my dear ones are gone—ah I
could make a sad list—the swifts,
as if to prove a point,
fly into the light and make
a mockery out of our darkness.
They scream for food but in
the world of shadows they only
make a quick motion; I have
studied them—the whiter
the wall is—the barer the bulb—
the more they scream, the more
they dip down. I have made
my two hands into a shape
and I have darkened the wall
to see what it looks like—I have
shortened my two broken fingers
to make the small tail and twisted
the knuckles sideways so when
they come in to eat one shadow
overtakes the other, that way
I can live in the darkness
with Franco's poisonous head
and Crosby's ears, who fainted,
a thousand to one, behind a
number two club, though no swift
died for him, well, for them,
digging for clubs. I watch the
birds every night; they fly
in a great circle, much larger
than what I can see, their dipping
is what I dreaded in front of
my plain white wall—I say it
for the nine hundred Americans
who died in Spain. I thought
I'd have to wait forever
to do them a tiny justice
and listen to their songs
and die a little from the foolhardy
mournful words, flying down
one air current or another
and doing the sides of buildings
and tops of trees, the low-lying
straggling dogwood, the full-bodied
huge red maple, my dear ones.
Swifts
By Gerald Stern

Bathsheba came out to the sun,
Telling the Bees
By Lizette Woodworth Reese

Billy, in one of his nice new sashes,
Tender-heartedness
By Harry Graham

Back when the earth was new
Testimonial
By Rita Dove

By the last few times we saw her it was clear
That Evening at Dinner
By David Ferry

Butch once remarked to me how sinister it was
That Pull from the Left
By Louise Erdrich

Blessed are the marble breasts of Venus,
The 167th Psalm of Elvis
By Tony Barnstone

Because we did not have threads
The Art Room
By Shara McCallum

Blessings on thee, little man,
The Barefoot Boy
By John Greenleaf Whittier

By the time I recalled that it is also
The Beautiful Animal
By Geoffrey Brock

Black on flat water past the jonquil lawns
The Black Swan
By James Merrill

Black maid, complain not that I fly,
The Boy’s Answer to the Blackmoor
By Henry King

By the dry road the fathers cough and spit,
The Brief Journey West
By Howard Nemerov

Between the dark and the daylight,
The Children's Hour
By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

By night a laddered diagram
The Cooling Tower
By Amy Clampitt

Blizzard to lilac. Dandelion
to leaf. Endless
variation of seasons I note
The Double Leash
By Katharine Coles

Benedicite! whate dreamed I this nyght?
The Dream of a Lover
By Anonymous

Beyond the steady rock the steady sea,
The Fable
By Yvor Winters

Be kind and tender to the Frog,
The Frog
By Hilaire Belloc

Because the jobs were there
The Future
By Neal Bowers

Beside the highway, the Giant Slide
The Giant Slide
By Ted Kooser

Beneath these fruit-tree boughs that shed
The Green Linnet
By William Wordsworth

By the roots of my hair some god got hold of me.
The Hanging Man
By Sylvia Plath

Before he put his important question to an oracle,
The King’s Question
By Brian Culhane

Before long the end
The Living End
By Samuel Menashe

Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans
The Man with the Hoe
By Edwin Markham

Because anyone sitting still attracts desire,
The Park
By Harry Clifton

Brutal to love,
The Queen of Carthage
By Louise Glück

But anxious cares the pensive nymph oppress'd,
The Rape of the Lock: Canto 4
By Alexander Pope

Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode,
The Rolling English Road
By G. K. Chesterton

Bricks are stuck in earth
The Sea-Garden
By Fanny Howe

Behold her, single in the field,
The Solitary Reaper
By William Wordsworth

Busy old fool, unruly sun,
The Sun Rising
By John Donne

Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay!
The Tay Bridge Disaster
By William McGonagall

Beholde, o man! lyft up thyn eye and see
from The Testament of John Lydgate
By John Lydgate

Before our lives divide for ever,
The Triumph of Time
By Algernon Charles Swinburne

Bananas ripe and green, and ginger-root,
The Tropics in New York
By Claude McKay

Bix to Buxtehude to Boulez.
The Victor Dog
By James Merrill

Blue plums in the pewter bowl -
The Waking
By Arthur Sze

Be strong Bernadette
The Way to Keep Going in Antarctica
By Bernadette Mayer

Blood on his torn glossy pants.
The Wounded Bullfighter
By Clarence Major

Believe it or not,
Tintype on the Pond, 1925
By J. Lorraine Brown

Bid me to live, and I will live
To Anthea, who may Command him Anything
By Robert Herrick

Best and brightest, come away!
To Jane: The Invitation
By Percy Bysshe Shelley

But of course these poems are
Unholy Women
By Chris Abani

Bringing “only what is needed—essential
Veteran’s Hospital
By Ben Belitt

But then there comes that moment rare
Voices of the Air
By Katherine Mansfield

Between the wet trees and the sorry steeple,
W.H.
By Louise Imogen Guiney

Be the mistress of my choice,
What Kind of Mistress He would Have
By Robert Herrick

Because a black bird flew across the road;
Why They Turned Back/Why They Went On
By Constance Urdang

Because we rage inside
Why We Are Truly a Nation
By William Matthews

Because she died where the ravine falls into water.
Wi’-gi-e
By Elise Paschen

Because they are shame, and cannot flee from it,
Wild Turkeys: The Dignity of the Damned
By Brigit Pegeen Kelly

Because someone thirsty enough
Willowspout
By R. T. Smith

Behold the gloomy tyrant’s awful form
Winter
By Anne Hunter

Barely discerned clouds
Winter Journal: Gray Shadings
By Emily Wilson

Before my brother-in-law lost his telephone job
World Without End
By Kevin Stein

Bewitched
Written with a Pencil Found in Lorine Niedecker’s Front Yard
By David Trinidad

Birdsongs that sound like the steady determined tapping
Zen Living
By Dick Allen