New Autumn Poems on the Underground October 2026

The new autumn set of Poems on the Underground  goes up on London Underground and Overground trains for 4 weeks from 19th October with poems by Bernard O’Donoghue, Jaan Kaplinski, Emily Bronte, Langston Hughes, Grace Nichols and Valerie Bloom.

Themes overlap in these autumnal poems — song and sorrow, the restorative power of nature, earth and sky, birds and flowers.

We’re delighted to mark Black History Month with poems by Grace Nichols, Valerie Bloom and Langston Hughes . We’re reprinting Grace Nichols’ poem ‘For the Life of This Planet’, which is in 40 Poems for 40 Years, and so relevant in this time of Climate Change peril. Langston Hughes ‘Song for Billie Holiday’ is a beautiful tribute to Billie Holiday while Valerie Bloom’s delightful play on words Brave New Words adds a light touch.

Valerie Bloom: from Brave New Words

Reprinted by permission of the author from They Sent a Cat to SATURN: Poems by Valerie Bloom (Otter-Barry Books 2026) © Valerie Bloom

Brave New Words A new year starts and my resolution’s to learn a new word every day, Words to impress, make people stare when they see and hear me say: Chuckwalla, haboob, and bandicoot, Williwaw, swullocking, malamute, Spelunking, borak, pawky, cleek, Boonoonoonoos, ortanique, Belonephobia, pogonophile, Farthingale, myrmecophile, Hectogram and requiem, Oh, I love the sound of them. Valerie Bloom Reprinted by permission of the author from They Sent a Cat to SATURN: Poems by Valerie Bloom (Otter-Barry Books 2026) © Valerie Bloom

Bernard O’Donoghue:  ‘Going Without Saying’: i.m. Joe Flynn

Reprinted by permission of Faber & Faber from Selected Poems (2008)

Going Without Saying i.m. Joe Flynn It is a great pity we don’t know When the dead are going to die So that, over a last companionable Drink, we could tell them How much we liked them. Happy the man who, dying, can Place his hand on his heart and say: ‘At least I didn’t neglect to tell The thrush how beautifully she sings.’ Bernard O’Donoghue Reprinted by permission of Faber & Faber from Selected Poems (2008)

           

Going Without Saying written and read by Bernard O’Donoghue

Langston Hughes: ‘Song for Billie Holiday’

Reprinted by permission of David Higham from Selected Poems (Serpent’s Tail 2020) © Langston Hughes 1959

Song for Billie Holiday What can purge my heart Of the song And the sadness? What can purge my heart But the song Of the sadness? What can purge my heart Of the sadness Of the song? Do not speak of sorrow With dust in her hair, Or bits of dust in eyes A chance wind blows there. The sorrow that I speak of Is dusted with despair. Voice of muted trumpet, Cold brass in warm air. Bitter television blurred By sound that shimmers-- Where? Langston Hughes Reprinted by permission of David Higham from Selected Poems (Serpent’s Tail 2020) © Langston Hughes 1959

Song for Billie Holiday by Langston Hughes read by Nick Makoha

Grace Nichols: ‘For the Life of This Planet’

Reprinted by permission of Curtis Brown from I have Crossed an Ocean: Selected Poems (Bloodaxe Books 2010) Reprinted in 40 Poems for 40 Years (Poems on the Underground 2026)

For the Life of This Planet The way the red sun surrenders its wholeness to curving ocean bit by bit. The way curving ocean gives birth to the birth of stars in the growing darkness, wearing everything in its path to cosmic smoothness. The impulse of stones rolling towards their own roundness. The unexpected comets of flying fish. And Forest, Great-Breathing-Spirit, rooting to the very end for the life of this planet. Grace Nichols Reprinted by permission of Curtis Brown from I have Crossed an Ocean: Selected Poems (Bloodaxe Books 2010) Reprinted in 40 Poems for 40 Years (Poems on the Underground 2026)

For the Life of This Planet by Grace Nichols read by Marjorie Lotfi

Jaan Kaplinski tr. Fiona Sampson: ‘Only at dusk do eyes really begin to see…’

Reprinted by permission of Bloodaxe Books from Selected Poems, translated by Jaan Kaplinski, Sam Hamill, Hildi Hawkins and Fiona Sampson (2011)

Only at dusk do eyes really begin to see Only at dusk do eyes really begin to see. The colours of flowers become lucid and bright before night extinguishes them: carnations, yellow roses, meadow-vetch and buttercups. The wind has died down and the sky -- the faded, nearly invisible background of all our comings and goings -- is suddenly here, just above the treetops and pylons, shining through foliage and above the roof of the house in all its depth and blueness. Behind the outhouse Venus appears; to the right of the pole of the well, Jupiter: once two gods, now two stars. Jaan Kaplinski translated by Fiona Sampson Reprinted by permission of Bloodaxe Books from Jaan Kaplinski, Selected Poems, translated by Jaan Kaplinski, Sam Hamill, Hildi Hawkins and Fiona Sampson (2011)

Only at Dusk by Jaan Kaplinski read by Fiona Sampson

Emily Bronte: Fall leaves fall

Fall leaves fall Fall leaves fall, die flowers away Lengthen night and shorten day Every leaf speaks bliss to me Fluttering from the autumn tree I shall smile when wreaths of snow Blossom where the rose should grow I shall sing when night’s decay Ushers in a drearier day Emily Bronte