英语诗歌是高校英语专业文学课程的重要组成部分之一,因其精练含蓄、富于意象、意境深远,英语诗歌教学往往成为文学课程的难点。本文是最新英语诗歌，希望对大家有帮助!

最新英语诗歌：In-law

Tara Bray

The cries of the killdeer agitate

like demons delicate and ruthless,

the bird ten steps ahead in harsh light,

the wheat soft and green,

thoughtless heads at the mercy of the wind.

A pheasant hunkers down in dust,

its splendor tucked tight, muted

by land squared off and measured.

The family is almighty, the yellow day cold.

I am outside, tended by wind I hate.

What world is this?

The sun so strange and everywhere.

最新英语诗歌：The Meeting

Alfred Corn

Rekindled consciousness, abrupt as a slap

That makes identity slot in, its clip

Coinciding with that signature

Stride acquired roughly the same year

I learned the best defense was an offense.

It's been my hup-two-three-four ever since.

Close to an hour of floating unawake

Over a book, my mind on coffee break,

Indifferent to the train's compulsive surge

At minus-fifty feet. I felt submerged

Beneath whitewater's liquid hammers, some

Cool, tumultuous onrush of time....

Amphibian! embody your emphatic

Renascence at street level. Twilit, lamplit

Hours stretch ahead, where, with a high-test

Line smoothly unreeled, players will all cast

Themselves in the lead role, while those they've turned

Out to meet will do the same in turn.

Recurrent happenstance: it sort of steadies.

First I, then you, will swim the crowd's brisk eddies

And swirls, we'll fist-bump, hug, invent smart-aleck

Putdowns and tender compliments alike.

And when it's time to remove hooks, oh, we'll

Be careful, we'll be kind as possible.

最新英语诗歌：The Name of the Island Was Marriage

Bruce Beasley

I

The name of the island was Island and the name of the Friday

was Good. Sunflower roots lay smoked on a bed of moss

over sea-flattened stones and sealed in a cedar box, like a tiny

coffin on the china: the unpent

smoke outpuffed its alderwood burn on our cheeks.

The constituents of a thirty-year marriage

lay before us, like a mis-en-place:

ingredients of pleasure, local

and strange. We assembled them as if we had never

used them before, like the raw

deer hearts strewn with wildflowers, pearls

of herring roe scooped up on branches of hemlock.

Stinging nettles, sweet, long-roasted: where,

where now was their sting?

II

To name an island for the very idea

of an island: its insularity, its

nonnegotiable unfluidity.

All pent in by what it is not --

the restless aqueous -- so its name

insisted it was what it was.

The name of the marriage had come to be Angry Teen.

The name of the marriage had come to be Did We Fuck Up.

Skunk cabbage burst all over from the roadside murk,

more xanthic than sunflowers or than noon sun, more

skunk-scent-insistent than skunks. The decedents

of the earliest settlers, said the brochure's typo, still live on the island today.

So the dead walk here, all

pent in by what they are not.

III

The island was Island Island. The god

was I AM WHO I AM. As

in the beginning He made each thing, it seemed

to startle Him to realize

it was good, as if good

were something else He gave birth by merely

having it in His mind.

Glimmers of saltwater poured off the clay and marl

and dry was born. Island lay isolate, not-wet

in the wet. Is land was born.

We smoothed and refrosted the marred

crust of what we'd made, and

the idea of marriage was reborn, the idea

of marring unborn.

IV

The chef came to our room to fix the unstoppable furnace.

He smelled of sorrel and roasted oysters and sage as he knelt

to fiddle with the gas-blast. Dolce far niente painted on the wall.

The sweet accomplishment of nothing.

Only when God began to do, after untimeable stasis,

did He find out how good

His pouring-apart of opposites -- sunrip and earth, up-

tick of skunk cabbage and its stench, and

sunflower root and the dark box it huddled in -- might be.

Let us divide decedents

from descendent, motherfather from son. Somewhere, even here, a furious

angel struggles in air to aim his chalice

exactly to catch each blood-spurt off the cross.

It must be saved. In three days the decedent will live

again and want back His blood. The island's name

in some no-longer translatable tongue was said

to be Island, as if island

were all that an island could be. The name of the marriage, as if

we made it, by calling it, so

was said -- behold, it startles us still -- to be good.