Fog

Related poetry:

1. To Flower When Pentheus [“grief’] went into the mountains in the garb of the baccae, his mother [Agave] and the other maenads, possessed by Dionysus, tore him apart (Euripides, Bacchae; Apollodorus 3.5.2; Ovid, Metamorphoses 3.511-733; Hyginus, Fabulae 184). The agave dies as soon as it blooms; the moonflower, or night-blooming cereus, is a desert plant of similar […]...
2. The Windows In these darkened rooms, where I spend Oppresive days, I pace to and fro To find the windows. When a window Opens, it will be a consolation. But the windows cannot be found, or I cannot Find them. And maybe it is best that I do not find them. Maybe the light will be a […]...
3. The Plough Of Time Night closed my windows and The sky became a crystal house The crystal windows glowed The moon Shown through them Through the whole house of crystal A single star beamed down Its crystal cable And drew a plough through the earth Unearthing bodies clasped together Couples embracing Around the earth They clung together everywhere Emitting […]...
4. Spring comes on the World Spring comes on the World I sight the Aprils Hueless to me until thou come As, till the Bee Blossoms stand negative, Touched to Conditions By a Hum....
5. The Gentian has a parched Corolla The Gentian has a parched Corolla Like azure dried ‘Tis Nature’s buoyant juices Beatified Without a vaunt or sheen As casual as Rain And as benign When most is part it comes Nor isolate it seems Its Bond its Friend To fill its Fringed career And aid an aged Year Abundant end Its lot were […]...
6. Song. Good Counsel to a Young Maid GAZE not on thy beauty’s pride, Tender maid, in the false tide That from lovers’ eyes doth slide. Let thy faithful crystal show How thy colours come and go : Beauty takes a foil from woe. Love, that in those smooth streams lies Under pity’s fair disguise, Will thy melting heart surprise. Nets of passion’s […]...
7. Under Cover of Night To slip into your shadow under cover of night. To follow your footsteps, your shadow at the window. That shadow at the window is you and no one else; It’s you. Do not open that window behind whose curtains you’re moving. Shut your eyes. I’d like to shut them with my lips. But the window […]...
8. Villa Pauline But, ah! before he came You were only a name: Four little rooms and a cupboard Without a bone, And I was alone! Now with your windows wide Everything from outside Of sun and flower and loveliness Comes in to hide, To play, to laugh on the stairs, To catch unawares Our childish happiness, And […]...
9. The Lilac is an ancient shrub The Lilac is an ancient shrub But ancienter than that The Firmamental Lilac Upon the Hill tonight The Sun subsiding on his Course Bequeaths this final Plant To Contemplation not to Touch The Flower of Occident. Of one Corolla is the West The Calyx is the Earth The Capsules burnished Seeds the Stars The Scientist […]...
10. Westward on the High-Hilled Plains Westward on the high-hilled plains Where for me the world began, Still, I think, in newer veins Frets the changeless blood of man. Now that other lads than I Strip to bathe on Severn shore, They, no help, for all they try, Tread the mill I trod before. There, when hueless is the west And […]...
11. To The One Of Fictive Music Sister and mother and diviner love, And of the sisterhood of the living dead Most near, most clear, and of the clearest bloom, And of the fragrant mothers the most dear And queen, and of diviner love the day And flame and summer and sweet fire, no thread Of cloudy silver sprinkles in your gown […]...
12. UPON LOVE A crystal vial Cupid brought, Which had a juice in it: Of which who drank, he said, no thought Of Love he should admit. I, greedy of the prize, did drink, And emptied soon the glass; Which burnt me so, that I do think The fire of hell it was. Give me my earthen cups […]...
13. Man's Injustice Towards Providence A Thriving Merchant, who no Loss sustained, In little time a mighty Fortune gain’d. No Pyrate seiz’d his still returning Freight; Nor foundring Vessel sunk with its own Weight: No Ruin enter’d through dissever’d Planks; No Wreck at Sea, nor in the Publick Banks. Aloft he sails, above the Reach of Chance, And do’s in […]...
14. In Back Of The Real railroad yard in San Jose I wandered desolate In front of a tank factory and sat on a bench Near the switchman’s shack. A flower lay on the hay on the asphalt highway the dread hay flower I thought It had a Brittle black stem and corolla of yellowish dirty Spikes like Jesus’ inchlong crown, […]...
15. To Lady Jane Romance was always young. You come today Just eight years old With marvellous dark hair. Younger than Dante found you When you turned His heart into the way That found the heavenly stair. Perhaps we must be strangers. I confess My soul this hour is Dante’s, And your care Should be for dolls Whose painted […]...
16. Mother to Son Well, son, I’ll tell you: Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair. It’s had tacks in it, And splinters, And boards torn up, And places with no carpet on the floor— Bare. But all the time I’se been a-climbin’ on, And reachin’ landin’s, And turnin’ corners, And sometimes goin’ in the dark Where there […]...
17. To God the Father To the little, pitiful God I make my prayer, The God with the long grey beard And flowing robe fastened with a hempen girdle Who sits nodding and muttering on the all-too-big throne Of Heaven. What a long, long time, dear God, since you set the Stars in their places, Girded the earth with the […]...
18. The World State Oh, how I love Humanity, With love so pure and pringlish, And how I hate the horrid French, Who never will be English! The International Idea, The largest and the clearest, Is welding all the nations now, Except the one that’s nearest. This compromise has long been known, This scheme of partial pardons, In ethical […]...
19. There is an arid Pleasure There is an arid Pleasure As different from Joy As Frost is different from Dew Like element are they Yet one rejoices Flowers And one the Flowers abhor The finest Honey curdled Is worthless to the Bee...
20. Bus Stop Lights are burning In quiet rooms Where lives go on Resembling ours. The quiet lives That follow us – These lives we lead But do not own – Stand in the rain So quietly When we are gone, So quietly. . . And the last bus Comes letting dark Umbrellas out – Black flowers, black […]...
21. Winters Offerings Crispy chimes of Autumn, spread out upon natures floor. The falling greens of spring and summer, now taking on a brown like decor. Bare bodies stand naked, their bones clanging in the wind. Hoping to soon be reclothed, by winters cool new offerings....
22. Tell He opens the scullery door, and a sudden rush Of wind, as raw as raw, Brushes past him as he himself will brush Past the stacks of straw That stood in earlier for Crow Or Comanche tepees hung with scalps But tonight past muster, row upon row, For the foothills of the Alps. He opens […]...
23. Sacrifice THOSE delicate wanderers, The wind, the star, the cloud, Ever before mine eyes, As to an altar bowed, Light and dew-laden airs Offer in sacrifice. The offerings arise: Hazes of rainbow light, Pure crystal, blue, and gold, Through dreamland take their flight; And ‘mid the sacrifice God moveth as of old. In miracles of fire […]...
24. CARILLON In the ancient town of Bruges, In the quaint old Flemish city, As the evening shades descended, Low and loud and sweetly blended, Low at times and loud at times, And changing like a poet’s rhymes, Rang the beautiful wild chimes From the Belfry in the market Of the ancient town of Bruges. Then, with […]...
25. To A Friend Who prop, thou ask’st in these bad days, my mind? He much, the old man, who, clearest-souled of men, Saw The Wide Prospect, and the Asian Fen, And Tmolus hill, and Smyrna bay, though blind. Much he, whose friendship I not long since won, That halting slave, who in Nicopolis Taught Arrian, when Vespasian’s brutal […]...
26. From Paumanok Starting FROM Paumanock starting, I fly like a bird, Around and around to soar, to sing the idea of all; To the north betaking myself, to sing there arctic songs, To Kanada, till I absorb Kanada in myself-to Michigan then, To Wisconsin, Iowa, Minnesota, to sing their songs, (they are inimitable;) Then to Ohio and Indiana […]...
27. Litany You are the bread and the knife, The crystal goblet and the wine… – Jacques Crickillon You are the bread and the knife, The crystal goblet and the wine. You are the dew on the morning grass And the burning wheel of the sun. You are the white apron of the baker, And the marsh […]...
28. The most triumphant Bird I ever knew or met The most triumphant Bird I ever knew or met Embarked upon a twig today And till Dominion set I famish to behold so eminent a sight And sang for nothing scrutable But intimate Delight. Retired, and resumed his transitive Estate To what delicious Accident Does finest Glory fit!...
29. Felix Schmidt It was only a little house of two rooms Almost like a child’s play-house With scarce five acres of ground around it; And I had so many children to feed And school and clothe, and a wife who was sick From bearing children. One day lawyer Whitney came along And proved to me that Christian […]...
30. Dockery And Son ‘Dockery was junior to you, Wasn’t he?’ said the Dean. ‘His son’s here now.’ Death-suited, visitant, I nod. ‘And do You keep in touch with-‘ Or remember how Black-gowned, unbreakfasted, and still half-tight We used to stand before that desk, to give ‘Our version’ of ‘these incidents last night’? I try the door of where […]...
31. Houses People who are afraid of themselves Multiply themselves into families And so divide themselves And so become less afraid. People who might have to go out Into clanging strangers’ laughter, Crowd under roofs, make compacts To no more than smile at each other. People who might meet their own faces Or surprise their own voices […]...
32. New Feet EMPTY battlefields keep their phantoms. Grass crawls over old gun wheels And a nodding Canada thistle flings a purple Into the summer’s southwest wind, Wrapping a root in the rust of a bayonet, Reaching a blossom in rust of shrapnel....
33. Sonnet LXXXVIII SInce I haue lackt the comfort of that light, The which was wont to lead my thoughts astray: I wander as in darkenesse of the night, Affrayd of euery dangers least dismay. Ne ought I see, though in the clearest day, When others gaze vpon theyr shadowes vayne: But th’onely image of that heauenly ray, […]...
34. Thangbrand the Priest Short of stature, large of limb, Burly face and russet beard, All the women stared at him, When in Iceland he appeared. “Look!” they said, With nodding head, “There goes Thangbrand, Olaf’s Priest.” All the prayers he knew by rote, He could preach like Chrysostome, From the Fathers he could quote, He had even been […]...
35. To Lou Andreas-Salome I held myself too open, I forgot That outside not just things exist and animals Fully at ease in themselves, whose eyes Reach from their lives’ roundedness no differently Than portraits do from frames; forgot that I With all I did incessantly crammed Looks into myself; looks, opinion, curiosity. Who knows: perhaps eyes form in […]...
36. To Victory Return to greet me, colours that were my joy, Not in the woeful crimson of men slain, But shining as a garden; come with the streaming Banners of dawn and sundown after rain. I want to fill my gaze with blue and silver, Radiance through living roses, spires of green Rising in young-limbed copse and […]...
37. The Wind of Sorrow The fire of love was burning, yet so low That in the dark we scarce could see its rays, And in the light of perfect-placid days Nothing but smouldering embers dull and slow. Vainly, for love’s delight, we sought to throw New pleasures on the pyre to make it blaze: In life’s calm air and […]...
38. Contrasts I see the tall church steeples, They reach so far, so far, But the eyes of my heart see the world’s great mart, Where the starving people are. I hear the church bells ringing Their chimes on the morning air; But my soul’s sad ear is hurt to hear The poor man’s cry of despair. […]...
39. The Reason Why The Closet-Man Is Never Sad This is the house of the closet-man. There are no rooms, Just hallways and closets. Things happen in rooms. He does not like things to Happen. . . Closets, you take things out of closets, You put things into closets, and nothing happens. . . Why do you have such a strange house? I am […]...
40. On Fields O'er Which the Reaper's Hand has Passed On fields o’er which the reaper’s hand has pass’d Lit by the harvest moon and autumn sun, My thoughts like stubble floating in the wind And of such fineness as October airs, There after harvest could I glean my life A richer harvest reaping without toil, And weaving gorgeous fancies at my will In subtler […]...