After Yesterday

Related poetry:

1. Yesterday is History Yesterday is History, ‘Tis so far away Yesterday is Poetry ‘Tis Philosophy Yesterday is mystery Where it is Today While we shrewdly speculate Flutter both away...
2. Yesterday I’ve trod the links with many a man, And played him club for club; ‘Tis scarce a year since I began And I am still a dub. But this I’ve noticed as we strayed Along the bunkered way, No one with me has ever played As he did yesterday. It makes no difference what the […]...
3. The Song of Yesterday I But yesterday I looked away O’er happy lands, where sunshine lay In golden blots, Inlaid with spots Of shade and wild forget-me-nots. My head was fair With flaxen hair, And fragrant breezes, faint and rare, And, warm with drouth From out the south, Blew all my curls across my mouth. And, cool and sweet, […]...
4. Let Us play Yesterday Let Us play Yesterday I the Girl at school You and Eternity the Untold Tale Easing my famine At my Lexicon Logarithm had I for Drink ‘Twas a dry Wine Somewhat different must be Dreams tint the Sleep Cunning Reds of Morning Make the Blind leap Still at the Egg-life Chafing the Shell When you […]...
5. Yesterday and Today XII The gold-hoarder walked in his palace park and with him walked his troubles. And over his head hovered worries as a vulture hovers over a carcass, until he reached a beautiful lake surrounded by magnificent marble statuary. He sat there pondering the water which poured from the mouths of the statues like thoughts flowing freely […]...
6. How Yesterday Looked THE HIGH horses of the sea broke their white riders On the walls that held and counted the hours The wind lasted. Two landbirds looked on and the north and the east Looked on and the wind poured cups of foam And the evening began. The old men in the shanties looked on and lit […]...
7. Sunday Afternoons I sit at home At my desk alone As I used to do On many sunday afternoons When you came back to me, Your arms ached for me, And your arms would close me in Though they smelled of other women. I think of you On Sunday afternoons. Your sweet head would bow, Like a […]...
8. I'm saying every day I’m saying every day “If I should be a Queen, tomorrow” I’d do this way And so I deck, a little, If it be, I wake a Bourbon, None on me, bend supercilious With “This was she Begged in the Market place Yesterday.” Court is a stately place I’ve heard men say So I loop […]...
9. The Late Singer Here it is spring again And I still a young man! I am late at my singing. The sparrow with the black rain on his breast Has been at his cadenzas for two weeks past: What is it that is dragging at my heart? The grass by the back door Is stiff with sap. The […]...
10. "Heaven" is what I cannot reach! “Heaven” is what I cannot reach! The Apple on the Tree Provided it do hopeless hang That “Heaven” is to Me! The Color, on the Cruising Cloud The interdicted Land Behind the Hill the House behind There Paradise is found! Her teasing Purples Afternoons The credulous decoy Enamored of the Conjuror That spurned us Yesterday!...
11. Yesterday My friend says I was not a good son You understand I say yes I understand He says I did not go To see my parents very often you know And I say yes I know Even when I was living in the same city he says Maybe I would go there once A month […]...
12. Trickle, Drops TRICKLE, drops! my blue veins leaving! O drops of me! trickle, slow drops, Candid, from me falling-drip, bleeding drops, From wounds made to free you whence you were prison’d, From my face-from my forehead and lips, From my breast-from within where I was conceal’d-press forth, red drops-confession drops; Stain every page-stain every song I sing, […]...
13. The Peripheries of Love Through waning afternoons we glide The watery peripheries of love. A silence, a quietude falls. Above us–the sagging pavilions of clouds. Below us–rough pebbles slowly worn smooth Grate in the gentle turbulence Of yesterday’s forgotten rains. Later, the moon like a virgin Lifts her stricken white face And the waters rise Toward some unfathomable shore. […]...
14. I Hear America Singing I HEAR America singing, the varied carols I hear; Those of mechanics-each one singing his, as it should be, blithe and strong; The carpenter singing his, as he measures his plank or beam, The mason singing his, as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work; The boatman singing what belongs to him in […]...
15. The Maple The Maple Is a system of posture for wood. A way of not falling down For twigs that happens To benefit birds. I don’t know. I’m staring at a tree, At yellow leaves Threshed by wind and want you Reading this to be staring At the same tree. I could Cut it down and laminate […]...
16. A Sleepless Night April, and the last of the plum blossoms Scatters on the black grass Before dawn. The sycamore, the lime, The struck pine inhale The first pale hints of sky. An iron day, I think, yet it will come Dazzling, the light Rise from the belly of leaves and pour Burning from the cups Of poppies. […]...
17. Leaning Into The Afternoons Leaning into the afternoons, I cast my sad nets towards your oceanic eyes. There, in the highest blaze my solitude lengthens and flames; Its arms turning like a drowning man’s. I send out red signals across your absent eyes That wave like the sea, or the beach by a lighthouse. You keep only darkness my […]...
18. Affinity YOU and I have found the secret way, None can bar our love or say us nay: All the world may stare and never know You and I are twined together so. You and I for all his vaunted width Know the giant Space is but a myth; Over miles and miles of pure deceit […]...
19. Wilderness THERE is a wolf in me… fangs pointed for tearing gashes… a red tongue for raw meat… and the hot lapping of blood-I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go. There is a fox in me… a silver-gray fox… I sniff and guess… I […]...
20. DROPS OF A STREAM Bhaskar Roy Barman As does the Great River On to the sea and back To the matted hair of Lord Shiva, On flows the life-stream Adorned with ornaments, As is a newly-wed couple. Following on the footprints of the Great River That leaves nonchalantly behind A good many water-drops Evaporating midway through And mingling with […]...
21. Faure's Second Piano Quartet On a day like this the rain comes Down in fat and random drops among The ailanthus leaves -“the tree Of Heaven” – the leaves that on moon- Lit nights shimmer black and blade- Shaped at this third-floor window. And there are bunches of small green Knobs, buds, crowded together. The Rapid music fills in […]...
22. Clark Street Bridge DUST of the feet And dust of the wheels, Wagons and people going, All day feet and wheels. Now. . . . . Only stars and mist A lonely policeman, Two cabaret dancers, Stars and mist again, No more feet or wheels, No more dust and wagons. Voices of dollars And drops of blood . […]...
23. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
24. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
25. In The Willow Shade I sat beneath a willow tree, Where water falls and calls; While fancies upon fancies solaced me, Some true, and some were false. Who set their heart upon a hope That never comes to pass, Droop in the end like fading heliotrope The sun’s wan looking-glass. Who set their will upon a whim Clung to […]...
26. The Knight's Tomb Where is the grave of Sir Arthur O’Kellyn? Where may the grave of that good man be? By the side of a spring, on the breast of Helvellyn, Under the twigs of a young birch tree! The oak that in summer was sweet to hear, And rustled its leaves in the fall of the year, […]...
27. The Dinkey Bird In an ocean, ‘way out yonder, (As all sapient people know) Is the land of Wonder-Wander, Whither children love to go; It’s their playing, romping, swinging, That give great joy to me While the Dinkey-Bird goes singing In the amfalula tree! There the gum-drops grow like cherries, And taffy’s thick as peas Caramels you pick […]...
28. The Forsaken Merman Come, dear children, let us away; Down and away below! Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great winds shoreward blow, Now the salt tides seaward flow; Now the wild white horses play, Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. Children dear, let us away! This way, this way! Call her once […]...
29. Variation On A Theme By Rilke A certain day became a presence to me; There it was, confronting me a sky, air, light: A being. And before it started to descend From the height of noon, it leaned over And struck my shoulder as if with The flat of a sword, granting me Honor and a task. The day’s blow Rang […]...
30. Five Flights Up Still dark. The unknown bird sits on his usual branch. The little dog next door barks in his sleep Inquiringly, just once. Perhaps in his sleep, too, the bird inquires Once or twice, quavering. Questions if that is what they are Answered directly, simply, By day itself. Enormous morning, ponderous, meticulous; Gray light streaking each […]...
31. The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
32. 1914 IV: The Dead These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth. The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs, And sunset, and the colours of the earth. These had seen movement, and heard music; known Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended; Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat […]...
33. At leisure is the Soul At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
34. Grace Before Song Lord God of heaven that with mercy dight Th’alternate prayer wheel of the night and light Eternal hath to thee, and in whose sight Our days as rain drops in the sea surge fall, As bright white drops upon a leaden sea Grant so my songs to this grey folk may be: As drops that […]...
35. These, I, Singing in Spring THESE, I, singing in spring, collect for lovers, (For who but I should understand lovers, and all their sorrow and joy? And who but I should be the poet of comrades?) Collecting, I traverse the garden, the world-but soon I pass the gates, Now along the pond-side-now wading in a little, fearing not the wet, […]...
36. Turns And Movies: Violet Moore And Bert Moore He thinks her little feet should pass Where dandelions star thickly grass; Her hands should lift in sunlit air Sea-wind should tangle up her hair. Green leaves, he says, have never heard A sweeter ragtime mockingbird, Nor has the moon-man ever seen, Or man in the spotlight, leering green, Such a beguiling, smiling queen. Her […]...
37. How many schemes may die How many schemes may die In one short Afternoon Entirely unknown To those they most concern The man that was not lost Because by accident He varied by a Ribbon’s width From his accustomed route The Love that would not try Because beside the Door It must be competitions Some unsuspecting Horse was tied Surveying […]...
38. Bricklayer Love I THOUGHT of killing myself because I am only a bricklayer and you a woman who loves the man who runs a drug store. I don’t care like I used to; I lay bricks straighter than I used to and I sing slower handling the trowel afternoons....
39. THE SWISS ALPS YESTERDAY brown was still thy head, as the locks Of my loved one, Whose sweet image so dear silently beckons afar. Silver-grey is the early snow to-day on thy summit, Through the tempestuous night streaming fast over Thy brow. Youth, alas, throughout life as closely to age is united As, in some changeable dream, yesterday […]...
40. Somewhere upon the general Earth Somewhere upon the general Earth Itself exist Today The Magic passive but extant That consecrated me Indifferent Seasons doubtless play Where I for right to be Would pay each Atom that I am But Immortality Reserving that but just to prove Another Date of Thee Oh God of Width, do not for us Curtail Eternity!...