Light poetry, also called light verse, is poetry that attempts to be humorous. Poems considered "light" are usually brief, and can be on a frivolous or serious subject, and often feature wordplay, including puns, adventurous rhyme and heavy alliteration. Typically, light verse in English is formal verse, although a few free verse poets, such as Billy Collins, have excelled at light verse outside the formal verse tradition.

While light poetry is sometimes condemned as doggerel, or thought of as poetry composed casually, humor often makes a serious point in a subtle or subversive way. Many of the most renowned "serious" poets, such as Horace, Swift, Pope and Auden, have also excelled at light verse.

In English, poets who are well known for their light poetry include:

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Poetry News & Resources

Kay Ryan: Online Resources
This guide compiles links to resources on newly appointed U.S. Poet Laureate Kay Ryan throughout the Library of Congress Web site and elsewhere on the Web.
Librarian of Congress Appoints Kay Ryan Poet Laureate
Librarian of Congress James H. Billington today announced the appointment of Kay Ryan as the Library’s 16th Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry for 2008-2009.
Joseph Brodsky: Online Resources
This guide compiles links to resources on former poet laureate Joseph Brodsky on the Library of Congress Web site and other English-language sites.
United States Poets Laureate: Frequently Asked Questions
Answers to some of the most frequently asked questions about the U.S. poet laureateship.
New Guides to Poets Laureate Available
New Web guides to online resources for former U.S. poets laureate Stanley Kunitz, Robert Pinsky, Rita Dove, and Robert Hass are now available.
Poet Laureate Charles Simic Gives Swan Song Lecture
Charles Simic made the final appearance of his tenure as U.S. Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry when he presented a lecture on poetry translation at the Library of Congress.

Poetry 180

Poem 180 - "Break"
A poem by Dorianne Laux from the Library's Poetry 180 project. This is the final Poetry 180 poem of the school year.
Poem 179 - "Bike Ride with Older Boys"
A poem by Laura Kasischke from the Library's Poetry 180 project.
Poem 178 - "End of April"
A poem by Phillis Levin from the Library's Poetry 180 project.
Poem 177 - "Eagle Plain"
A poem by Robert Francis from the Library's Poetry 180 project.
Poem 176 - "How to Change a Frog Into a Prince"
A poem by Anna Denise from the Library's Poetry 180 project.
Poem 175 - "Gretel"
A poem by Andrea Hollander Budy from the Library's Poetry 180 project.

Fiction & Poetry

Mary at the Tattoo Shop
Marcus Jackson Mon, 14 Jul 2008 04:00:00 -0000
She counted her money before we went in, avenue beside us anxious with Friday-evening traffic. Both fourteen, we shared a Newport, its manila butt salty to our lips. Inside, from a huge book of designs and letter styles, she chose to get “MARY” in a black, Old English script . . .
Thirteen Hundred Rats
T. Coraghessan Boyle Mon, 30 Jun 2008 04:00:00 -0000
There was a man in our village who never in his life had a pet of any kind until his wife died. By my calculation, Gerard Loomis was in his mid-fifties when Marietta was taken from him, but at the ceremony in the chapel he looked so scorched and . . .
Songs of a Season
Maureen N. McLane Mon, 30 Jun 2008 04:00:00 -0000
for here or to go-- a glass mug, a paper cup-- life is fast, art slow only a few years before all that I am blows free, subatomic not for me that life the careless joy of the dog not for me that leap how to say beautiful weekend in . . .
After Love
Jack Gilbert Mon, 30 Jun 2008 04:00:00 -0000
He is watching the music with his eyes closed. Hearing the piano like a man moving through the woods thinking by feeling. The orchestra up in the trees, the heart below, step by step. The music hurrying sometimes, but always returning to quiet, like the man remembering and hoping. It . . .
The Evening Is Tranquil, and Dawn Is a Thousand Miles Away
Charles Wright Mon, 23 Jun 2008 04:00:00 -0000
The mares go down for their evening feed into the meadow grass. Two pine trees sway the invisible wind-- some sway, some don’t sway. The heart of the world lies open, leached and ticking with sunlight For just a minute or so. The mares have their heads on the ground . . .
Return of the Prodigal
Charles Wright Mon, 23 Jun 2008 04:00:00 -0000
Now comes summer, water clear, clouds heavy with weeping. Tall grasses are silver-veined. Little puddles of sunlight collect in low places deep in the woods. Lupine and paintbrush stoic in ditch weed, larch rust a smear on the mountainside. No light on ridge line. Zodiac pinwheels across the heavens . . .

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