Sound And Sense

Related poetry:

1. Sense Of Something Coming I am like a flag in the center of open space. I sense ahead the wind which is coming, and must live It through. While the things of the world still do not move: The doors still close softly, and the chimneys are full Of silence, The windows do not rattle yet, and the dust […]...
2. In Memoriam A. H. H.: 11. Calm is the morn without a sound Calm is the morn without a sound, Calm as to suit a calmer grief, And only thro’ the faded leaf The chestnut pattering to the ground: Calm and deep peace on this high wold, And on these dews that drench the furze. And all the silvery gossamers That twinkle into green and gold: Calm and […]...
3. Uncommon common sense The other day I listened to a man on the radio Who made uncommon common sense, ‘specially since It was an interview on ABC’s noon talk-back show. He was a Professor, of what I hadn’t heard, But for once the words were plain and clear – the host, Bless the dear, didn’t interfere or ask […]...
4. A Sense of Humor NO man should stand before the moon To make sweet song thereon, With dandified importance, His sense of humor gone. Nay, let us don the motley cap, The jester’s chastened mien, If we would woo that looking-glass And see what should be seen. O mirror on fair Heaven’s wall, We find there what we bring. […]...
5. A dull sound, varying now and again And then we began eating corn starch, Chalk chewed wet into sirup. We pilfered Argo boxes stored away to stiffen My white dress shirt, and my cousin And I played or watched TV, no longer annoyed By the din of never cooling afternoons. On the way home from church one fifth Sunday, Shirt outside my […]...
6. TO THE SOUND OF VIOLINS Give me life at its most garish Friday night in the Square, pink sequins dazzle And dance on clubbers bare to the midriff Young men in crisp shirts and pressed pants ‘Dress code smart’ gyrate to ‘Sex Bomb, Sex Bomb’ And sing along its lyrics to the throng of which I’m one My shorts, shoulder […]...
7. Unlike, For Example, The Sound Of A Riptooth Saw gnawing through a shinbone, a high howl Inside of which a bloody, slashed-by-growls note Is heard, unlike that Sound, and instead, its opposite: a barely sounded Sound (put your nuclear ears On for it, your giant hearing horn, its cornucopia mouth Wide) a slippery whoosh of rain Sliding down a mirror Leaned against a windfallen […]...
8. Ode To Neptune On Mrs. W -‘s Voyage to England. I. WHILE raging tempests shake the shore, While AElus’ thunders round us roar, And sweep impetuous o’er the plain Be still, O tyrant of the main; Nor let thy brow contracted frowns betray, While my Susanna skims the wat’ry way. II. The Pow’r propitious hears the lay, The […]...
9. SOUND, SWEET SONG SOUND, sweet song, from some far land, Sighing softly close at hand, Now of joy, and now of woe! Stars are wont to glimmer so. Sooner thus will good unfold; Children young and children old Gladly hear thy numbers flow. 1820.* – * In the cases in which the date is marked thus (*), it […]...
10. The Lacking Sense Scene. A sad-coloured landscape, Waddon Vale I “O Time, whence comes the Mother’s moody look amid her labours, As of one who all unwittingly has wounded where she loves? Why weaves she not her world-webs to according lutes and tabors, With nevermore this too remorseful air upon her face, As of angel fallen from grace?” II – “Her look is but […]...
11. Street in Agrigentum There is still the wind that I remember Firing the manes of horses, racing, Slanting, across the plains, The wind that stains and scours the sandstone, And the heart of gloomy columns, telamons, Overthrown in the grass. Spirit of the ancients, grey With rancour, return on the wind, Breathe in that feather-light moss That covers […]...
12. Discipline Throw away thy rod, Throw away thy wrath: O my God, Take the gentle path. For my heart’s desire Unto thine is bent: I aspire To a full consent. Not a word or look I affect to own, But by book, And thy book alone. Though I fail, I weep: Though I halt in pace, […]...
13. Jones's Porvate Argyment That air same Jones, which lived in Jones, He had this pint about him: He’d swear with a hundred sighs and groans, That farmers MUST stop gittin’ loans, And git along without ’em: That bankers, warehousemen, and sich Was fatt’nin’ on the planter, And Tennessy was rotten-rich A-raisin’ meat and corn, all which Draw’d money […]...
14. The Tenants Of The Little Box Throw into the little box A stone You’ll take out a bird Throw in your shadow You’ll take out the shirt of happiness Throw in your father’s root You’ll take out the axle of the universe The little box works for you Throw into the little box A mouse You’ll take out a quaking hill […]...
15. The God Of Common-Sense My Daddy used to wallop me for every small offense: “Its takes a hair-brush back,” said he, “to teach kids common-sense.” And still to-day I scarce can look a hair-brush in the face. Without I want in sympathy to pat a tender place. For Dad declared with unction: “Spare the brush and spoil the brat.” […]...
16. The Sense Of The Sleight-Of-Hand Man One’s grand flights, one’s Sunday baths, One’s tootings at the weddings of the soul Occur as they occur. So bluish clouds Occurred above the empty house and the leaves Of the rhododendrons rattled their gold, As if someone lived there. Such floods of white Came bursting from the clouds. So the wind Threw its contorted […]...
17. Much Madness is divinest Sense Much MADNESS is divinest sense (Author) To a discerning eye Much sense the starkest madness. ‘T’ is the MAJORITY In this, as all, prevail Assent and you are sane Demur, you’re straightway dangerous And handled with a Chain....
18. Modern Love XLVIII: Their Sense Their sense is with their senses all mixed in, Destroyed by subleties these women are! More brain, O Lord, more brain! or we shall mar Utterly this fair garden we might win. Behold! I looked for peace, and thought it near. Our inmost hearts had opened, each to each. We drank the pure daylight of […]...
19. Psalm Three On the day when my words Were earth… I was a friend to stalks of wheat. On the day when my words Were wrath I was a friend to chains. On the day when my words Were stones I was a friend to streams. On the day when my words Were a rebellion I was […]...
20. The Sound of the Sea The sea awoke at midnight from its sleep, And round the pebbly beaches far and wide I heard the first wave of the rising tide Rush onward with uninterrupted sweep; A voice out of the silence of the deep, A sound mysteriously multiplied As of a cataract from the mountain’s side, Or roar of winds […]...
21. Poet As Fisherman I fish for words To say what I fish for, Half-catch sometimes. I have caught little pan fish flashing sunlight (yellow perch, crappies, blue-gills), Lighthearted reeled them in, Filed them on stringers on the shore. A nice mess, we called them, And ate with our fingers, laughing. Once, dreaming of fish in far-off waters, I […]...
22. SOUND OF SLEAT I always looked out at the world, And wondered if the world looked back at me, Standing on the edge of something, On my face – the wind from the cold sea. Across the waters were mirrors to see Faces that looked like me, People caught between two places, People crossing over the seas. And […]...
23. The Sound of the Trees I wonder about the trees. Why do we wish to bear Forever the noise of these More than another noise So close to our dwelling place? We suffer them by the day Till we lose all measure of pace, And fixity in our joys, And acquire a listening air. They are that that talks of […]...
24. It don't sound so terrible quite as it did It don’t sound so terrible quite as it did I run it over “Dead”, Brain, “Dead.” Put it in Latin left of my school Seems it don’t shriek so under rule. Turn it, a little full in the face A Trouble looks bitterest Shift it just Say “When Tomorrow comes this way I shall have […]...
25. Long Island Sound I see it as it looked one afternoon In August,-by a fresh soft breeze o’erblown. The swiftness of the tide, the light thereon, A far-off sail, white as a crescent moon. The shining waters with pale currents strewn, The quiet fishing-smacks, the Eastern cove, The semi-circle of its dark, green grove. The luminous grasses, and […]...
26. The Loneliness One dare not sound The Loneliness One dare not sound And would as soon surmise As in its Grave go plumbing To ascertain the size The Loneliness whose worst alarm Is lest itself should see And perish from before itself For just a scrutiny The Horror not to be surveyed But skirted in the Dark With Consciousness suspended And […]...
27. Two south coast poems (a) this morning i came within sound of the sea for a man whose eyes till now were a bed of rock Whose hands were drier than deserts The sea’s voice drove fear up through the valley The tributaries meandering inside me longing for outlet Shrivelled even as their own courses became straight My demand for ocean died now the ocean approached The clouds put […]...
28. Lines Draw a line. Write a line. There. Stay in line, hold the line, a glance Between the lines is fine but don’t Turn corners, cross, cut in, go over Or out, between two points of no Return’s a line of flight, between Two points of view’s a line of vision. But a line of thought […]...
29. The Lady's Reward Lady, lady, never start Conversation toward your heart; Keep your pretty words serene; Never murmur what you mean. Show yourself, by word and look, Swift and shallow as a brook. Be as cool and quick to go As a drop of April snow; Be as delicate and gay As a cherry flower in May. Lady, […]...
30. Gunner Did they send me away from my cat and my wife To a doctor who poked me and counted my teeth, To a line on a plain, to a stove in a tent? Did I nod in the flies of the schools? And the fighters rolled into the tracer like rabbits, The blood froze over […]...
31. A Love Song from the North Tell me no more of thy love, papeeha, Wouldst thou recall to my heart, papeeha, Dreams of delight that are gone, When swift to my side came the feet of my lover With stars of the dusk and the dawn? I see the soft wings of the clouds on the river, And jewelled with raindrops […]...
32. Romance To clasp you now and feel your head close-pressed, Scented and warm against my beating breast; To whisper soft and quivering your name, And drink the passion burning in your frame; To lie at full length, taut, with cheek to cheek, And tease your mouth with kisses till you speak Love words, mad words, dream […]...
33. Sonnet LXXXII I grant thou wert not married to my Muse And therefore mayst without attaint o’erlook The dedicated words which writers use Of their fair subject, blessing every book Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue, Finding thy worth a limit past my praise, And therefore art enforced to seek anew Some fresher stamp […]...
34. Sonnet 82: I grant thou wert not married to my Muse I grant thou wert not married to my Muse, And therefore mayst without attaint o’erlook The dedicated words which writers use Of their fair subject, blessing every book. Thou art as fair in knowledge as in hue, Finding thy worth a limit past my praise, And therefore art enforced to seek anew Some fresher stamp […]...
35. Homing Swallows Swift swallows sailing from the Spanish main, O rain-birds racing merrily away From hill-tops parched with heat and sultry plain Of wilting plants and fainting flowers, say When at the noon-hour from the chapel school The children dash and scamper down the dale, Scornful of teacher’s rod and binding rule Forever broken and without avail, […]...
36. Temporary Poem Of My Time Hebrew writing and Arabic writing go from east to west, Latin writing, from west to east. Languages are like cats: You must not stroke their hair the wrong way. The clouds come from the sea, the hot wind from the desert, The trees bend in the wind, And stones fly from all four winds, Into […]...
37. The End Throughout the echoing chambers of my brain I hear your words in mournful cadence toll Like some slow passing-bell which warns the soul Of sundering darkness. Unrelenting, fain To batter down resistance, fall again Stroke after stroke, insistent diastole, The bitter blows of truth, until the whole Is hammered into fact made strangely plain. Where […]...
38. The Island Does the wind sing in your ears at night, in the town, Rattling the windows and doors of the cheap-built place? Do you hear its song as it flies over marsh and down? Do you feel the kiss that the wind leaves here on my face? Or, wrapt in a lamplit quiet, do you restrain […]...
39. White Cockatoos Now the autumn maize is growing, Now the corn-cob fills, Where the Little River flowing Winds among the hills. Over mountain peaks outlying Clear against the blue Comes a scout in silence flying, One white cockatoo. Back he goes to where the meeting Waits among the trees. Says, “The corn is fit for eating; Hurry, […]...
40. 429. Song-Come let me take thee to my breast COME, let me take thee to my breast, And pledge we ne’er shall sunder; And I shall spurn as vilest dust The world’s wealth and grandeur: And do I hear my Jeanie own That equal transports move her? I ask for dearest life alone, That I may live to love her. Thus, in my arms, […]...