Tom Merritt

    At first I suspected something -
    She acted so calm and absent-minded.
    And one day I heard the back door shut
    As I entered the front, and I saw him slink
    Back of the smokehouse into the lot
    And run across the field.
    And I meant to kill him on sight.
    But that day, walking near Fourth Bridge
    Without a stick or a stone at hand,
    All of a sudden I saw him standing
    Scared to death, holding his rabbits,
    And all I could say was, "Don't, Don't, Don't,"
    As he aimed and fired at my heart.

Edgar Lee Masters

Edgar Lee Masters was an American poet, biographer, and dramatist. Born in Kansas and raised in Illinois, Masters is best known for his collection of poems entitled "Spoon River Anthology" (1915), which is a series of epitaphs of residents of the fictional small town of Spoon River. His works reflect the everyday lives and frustrations of middle America. Masters also practiced law and wrote biographies for historical figures such as Abraham Lincoln and Mark Twain.

Edgar Lee Masters

When Life Is Real

Edgar Lee Masters, Simple Poetry

Dillard Sissman

Edgar Lee Masters, Simple Poetry

Poor Pierrot

Edgar Lee Masters, Simple Poetry

Anne Rutledge

Edgar Lee Masters, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Harold Arnett

    I leaned against the mantel, sick, sick,
    Thinking of my failure, looking into the abysm,
    Weak from the noon-day heat.
    A church bell sounded mournfully far away,
    I heard the cry of a baby,
    And the coughing of John Yarnell,
    Bed-ridden, feverish, feverish, dying,
    Then the violent voice of my wife:
    "Watch out, the potatoes are burning!"
    I smelled them . . . then there was irresistible disgust.
    I pulled the trigger . . . blackness . . . light . . .
    Unspeakable regret . . . fumbling for the world again.
    Too late! Thus I came here,
    With lungs for breathing . . . one cannot breathe here with lungs,
    Though one must breathe
    Of what use is it To rid one's self of the world,
    When no soul may ever escape t...

Edgar Lee Masters

Bert Kessler

    I winged my bird,
    Though he flew toward the setting sun;
    But just as the shot rang out, he soared
    Up and up through the splinters of golden light,
    Till he turned right over, feathers ruffled,
    With some of the down of him floating near,
    And fell like a plummet into the grass.
    I tramped about, parting the tangles,
    Till I saw a splash of blood on a stump,
    And the quail lying close to the rotten roots.
    I reached my hand, but saw no brier,
    But something pricked and stung and numbed it.
    And then, in a second, I spied the rattler -
    The shutters wide in his yellow eyes,
    The head of him arched, sunk back in the rings of him,
    A circle of filth, the color of ashes,
    Or oak leaves bleached under layers of ...

Edgar Lee Masters

Zilpha Marsh

    At four o'clock in late October
    I sat alone in the country school-house
    Back from the road, mid stricken fields,
    And an eddy of wind blew leaves on the pane,
    And crooned in the flue of the cannon-stove,
    With its open door blurring the shadows
    With the spectral glow of a dying fire.
    In an idle mood I was running the planchette -
    All at once my wrist grew limp,
    And my hand moved rapidly over the board,
    'Till the name of "Charles Guiteau" was spelled,
    Who threatened to materialize before me.
    I rose and fled from the room bare-headed
    Into the dusk, afraid of my gift.
    And after that the spirits swarmed -
    Chaucer, Caesar, Poe and Marlowe,
    Cleopatra and Mrs. Surratt -
    Wherever I went, with m...

Edgar Lee Masters

Henry Tripp

    The bank broke and I lost my savings.
    I was sick of the tiresome game in Spoon River
    And I made up my mind to run away
    And leave my place in life and my family;
    But just as the midnight train pulled in,
    Quick off the steps jumped Cully Green
    And Martin Vise, and began to fight
    To settle their ancient rivalry,
    Striking each other with fists that sounded
    Like the blows of knotted clubs.
    Now it seemed to me that Cully was winning,
    When his bloody face broke into a grin
    Of sickly cowardice, leaning on Martin
    And whining out "We're good friends, Mart,
    You know that I'm your friend."
    But a terrible punch from Martin knocked him
    Around and around and into a heap.
    And then they arrested me as...

Edgar Lee Masters

Jack McGuire

    They would have lynched me
    Had I not been secretly hurried away
    To the jail at Peoria.
    And yet I was going peacefully home,
    Carrying my jug, a little drunk,
    When Logan, the marshal, halted me
    Called me a drunken hound and shook me
    And, when I cursed him for it, struck me
    With that Prohibition loaded cane -
    All this before I shot him.
    They would have hanged me except for this:
    My lawyer, Kinsey Keene, was helping to land
    Old Thomas Rhodes for wrecking the bank,
    And the judge was a friend of
    Rhodes And wanted him to escape,
    And Kinsey offered to quit on
    Rhodes For fourteen years for me.
    And the bargain was made.
    I served my time
    And learned to read and write.

Edgar Lee Masters

Doc Hill

    I went up and down the streets
    Here and there by day and night,
    Through all hours of the night caring for the poor who were sick.
    Do you know why?
    My wife hated me, my son went to the dogs.
    And I turned to the people and poured out my love to them.
    Sweet it was to see the crowds about the lawns on the day of my funeral,
    And hear them murmur their love and sorrow.
    But oh, dear God, my soul trembled, scarcely able
    To hold to the railing of the new life
    When I saw Em Stanton behind the oak tree
    At the grave,
    Hiding herself, and her grief!

Edgar Lee Masters