Making Love To Concrete

Related poetry:

1. After Making Love We Hear Footsteps For I can snore like a bullhorn Or play loud music Or sit up talking with any reasonably sober Irishman And Fergus will only sink deeper Into his dreamless sleep, which goes by all in one flash, But let there be that heavy breathing Or a stifled come-cry anywhere in the house And he will […]...
2. Not Love Perhaps This is not Love, perhaps, Love that lays down its life, That many waters cannot quench, Nor the floods drown, But something written in lighter ink, Said in a lower tone, something, perhaps, especially our own. A need, at times, to be together and talk, And then the finding we can walk More firmly through […]...
3. Ametas And Thestylis Making Hay-Ropes Ametas Think’st Thou that this Love can stand, Whilst Thou still dost say me nay? Love unpaid does soon disband: Love binds Love as Hay binds Hay. Thestylis Think’st Thou that this Rope would twine If we both should turn one way? Where both parties so combine, Neither Love will twist nor Hay. Ametas Thus […]...
4. Verse-Making Was Least of My Virtues Verse-making was least of my virtues: I viewed with despair Wealth that never yet was but might be all that verse-making were If the life would but lengthen to wish, let the mind be laid bare. So I said, “To do little is bad, to do nothing is worse” And made verse. Love-making, how simple […]...
5. Variations on the Word Love This is a word we use to plug Holes with. It’s the right size for those warm Blanks in speech, for those red heart- Shaped vacancies on the page that look nothing Like real hearts. Add lace And you can sell It. We insert it also in the one empty Space on the printed form […]...
6. 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 […]...
7. Love Of Jerusalem There is a street where they sell only red meat And there is a street where they sell only clothes and perfumes. And there Is a day when I see only cripples and the blind And those covered with leprosy, and spastics and those with twisted lips. Here they build a house and there they […]...
8. Love's Lantern (For Aline) Because the road was steep and long And through a dark and lonely land, God set upon my lips a song And put a lantern in my hand. Through miles on weary miles of night That stretch relentless in my way My lantern burns serene and white, An unexhausted cup of day. O […]...
9. Making Good No man can be a failure if he thinks he’s a success; He may not own his roof-tree overhead, He may be on his uppers and have hocked his evening dress – (Financially speaking – in the red) He may have chronic shortage to repay the old home mortgage, And almost be a bankrupt in […]...
10. Making Light Of It I call out a secret name, the name Of the angel who guards my sleep, And light grows in the east, a new light Like no other, as soft as the petals Of the blown rose in late summer. Yes, it is late summer in the West. Even the grasses climbing the Sierras Reach for […]...
11. Making It Work 3-foot blue cannisters of nitro Along a conveyor belt, slow fish Speaking the language of silence. On the roof, I in my respirator Patching the asbestos gas lines As big around as the thick waist Of an oak tree. “These here are The veins of the place, stuff Inside’s the blood.” We work in rain, […]...
12. I SEE A WOMAN MAKING UP I see a woman any woman making up and change First she is thinking of something else (because when a woman Begins to make up she hasn’t yet separated this act from the rest of the day). But when arranging the various objects that the ceremony Preciously determines in the exact place around her hands […]...
13. Making The Lion For All It's Got A Ballad I came home and found a lion in my room… [First draft of “The Lion for Real” CP 174-175] A lion met America In the road They stared at each other Two figures on the crossroads in the desert. America screamed The lion roared They leaped at each other America desperate to win Fighting with […]...
14. For Jane: With All The Love I Had, Which Was Not Enough I pick up the skirt, I pick up the sparkling beads In black, This thing that moved once Around flesh, And I call God a liar, I say anything that moved Like that Or knew My name Could never die In the common verity of dying, And I pick Up her lovely Dress, All her […]...
15. Twelve O'Clock Mother, I do want to leave off my lessons now. I have been at my Book all the morning. You say it is only twelve o’clock. Suppose it isn’t any later; Can’t you ever think it is afternoon when it is only twelve O’clock? I can easily imagine now that the sun has reached the […]...
16. The End of Love Now he is dead How should I know My true love’s arms From wind and snow? No man I meet In field or house Though in the street A hundred pass. The hurrying dust Has never a face, No longer human In man or woman. Now he is gone Why should I mourn My true […]...
17. Mr. Mine Notice how he has numbered the blue veins In my breast. Moreover there are ten freckles. Now he goes left. Now he goes right. He is buiding a city, a city of flesh. He’s an industrialist. He has starved in cellars And, ladies and gentlemen, he’s been broken by iron, By the blood, by the […]...
18. The Klondike Never mind the day we left, or the day the women clung to us; All we need now is the last way they looked at us. Never mind the twelve men there amid the cheering – Twelve men or one man, ‘t will soon be all the same; For this is what we know: we […]...
19. Sonnet 10 – Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed And worthy of acceptation. Fire is bright, Let temple burn, or flax; an equal light Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed: And love is fire. And when I say at need I love thee. . . mark! . . . I love thee-in thy sight I […]...
20. My Father's Love Letters On Fridays he’d open a can of Jax After coming home from the mill, & ask me to write a letter to my mother Who sent postcards of desert flowers Taller than men. He would beg, Promising to never beat her Again. Somehow I was happy She had gone, & sometimes wanted To slip in […]...
21. LAMENT How I loathe this land of my exile, Concrete upon concrete, Steel upon steel, Glass upon glass In massed battalions And no way back. My mind moves to a far-off place To a hill-top where the wind is my succour, Its blow and howl and rage Over the springing turf and heather Calms as the […]...
22. If I Should Learn, In Some Quite Casual Way IF I should learn, in some quite casual way, That you were gone, not to return again – Read from the back-page of a paper, say, Held by a neighbor in a subway train, How at the corner of this avenue And such a street (so are the papers filled) A hurrying man-who happened to […]...
23. 379. Song-Fragment-Love for love ITHERS seek they ken na what, Features, carriage, and a’ that; Gie me love in her I court, Love to love maks a’ the sport. Let love sparkle in her e’e; Let her lo’e nae man but me; That’s the tocher-gude I prize, There the luver’s treasure lies....
24. Juke Box Love Song I could take the Harlem night And wrap around you, Take the neon lights and make a crown, Take the Lenox Avenue busses, Taxis, subways, And for your love song tone their rumble down. Take Harlem’s heartbeat, Make a drumbeat, Put it on a record, let it whirl, And while we listen to it play, […]...
25. The Vision of Love THE TWILIGHT fleeted away in pearl on the stream, And night, like a diamond done, stood still in our dream. Your eyes like burnished stones or as stars were bright With the sudden vision that made us one with the night. We loved in infinite spaces, forgetting here The breasts that were lit with life […]...
26. Shinto When sorrow lays us low For a second we are saved By humble windfalls Of the mindfulness or memory: The taste of a fruit, the taste of water, That face given back to us by a dream, The first jasmine of November, The endless yearning of the compass, A book we thought was lost, The […]...
27. Primeval my Love for the Woman I Love PRIMEVAL my love for the woman I love, O bride! O wife! more resistless, more enduring than I can tell, the thought of you! Then separate, as disembodied, the purest born, The ethereal, the last athletic reality, my consolation, I ascend-I float in the regions of your love, O man, O sharer of my roving […]...
28. Love Lies Sleeping Earliest morning, switching all the tracks That cross the sky from cinder star to star, coupling the ends of streets to trains of light. Now draw us into daylight in our beds; And clear away what presses on the brain: put out the neon shapes that float and swell and glare Down the gray avenue […]...
29. On Prayer You ask me how to pray to someone who is not. All I know is that prayer constructs a velvet bridge And walking it we are aloft, as on a springboard, Above landscapes the color of ripe gold Transformed by a magic stopping of the sun. That bridge leads to the shore of Reversal Where […]...
30. The Railway Bridge of the Silvery Tay Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silvery Tay! With your numerous arches and pillars in so grand array And your central girders, which seem to the eye To be almost towering to the sky. The greatest wonder of the day, And a great beautification to the River Tay, Most beautiful to be seen, Near by Dundee […]...
31. From Far, From Eve and Morning From far, from eve and morning And yon twelve-winded sky, The stuff of life to knit me Blew hither: here am I. Now for a breath I tarry Nor yet disperse apart Take my hand quick and tell me, What have you in your heart. Speak now, and I will answer; How shall I help […]...
32. Modern Love XXVI: Love Ere He Bleeds Love ere he bleeds, an eagle in high skies, Has earth beneath his wings: from reddened eve He views the rosy dawn. In vain they weave The fatal web below while far he flies. But when the arrow strikes him, there’s a change. He moves but in the track of his spent pain, Whose red […]...
33. Wet City Night Light drunkenly reels into shadow; Blurs, slurs uneasily; Slides off the eyeballs: The segments shatter. Tree-branches cut arc-light in ragged Fluttering wet strips. The cup of the sky-sign is filled too full; It slushes wine over. The street-lamps dance a tarentella And zigzag down the street: They lift and fly away In a wind of […]...
34. Love's Language How does Love speak? In the faint flush upon the tell-tale cheek, And in the pallor that succeeds it; by The quivering lid of an averted eye – The smile that proves the parent to a sigh – Thus doth Love speak. How does Love speak? By the uneven heart-throbs, and the freak Of bounding […]...
35. The Ordinary Man If you and I should chance to meet, I guess you wouldn’t care; I’m sure you’d pass me in the street As if I wasn’t there; You’d never look me in the face, My modest mug to scan, Because I’m just a commonplace And Ordinary Man. But then, it may be, you are too A […]...
36. 268. Song-I Love my Love in Secret MY Sandy gied to me a ring, Was a’ beset wi’ diamonds fine; But I gied him a far better thing, I gied my heart in pledge o’ his ring. Chorus.-My Sandy O, my Sandy O, My bonie, bonie Sandy O; Tho’ the love that I owe To thee I dare na show, Yet I […]...
37. Slants at Buffalo, New York A FOREFINGER of stone, dreamed by a sculptor, points to the sky. It says: This way! this way! Four lions snore in stone at the corner of the shaft. They too are the dream of a sculptor. They too say: This way! this way! The street cars swing at a curve. The middle-class passengers witness […]...
38. When, Dearest, I But Think of Thee When, dearest I but think of thee, Methinks all things that lovely be Are present, and my soul delighted: For beauties that from worth arise Are like the grace of deities, Still present with us, tho’ unsighted. Thus while I sit and sigh the day With all his borrow’d lights away, Till night’s black wings […]...
39. Modern Love XVI: In Our Old Shipwrecked Days In our old shipwrecked days there was an hour, When in the firelight steadily aglow, Joined slackly, we beheld the red chasm grow Among the clicking coals. Our library-bower That eve was left to us: and hushed we sat As lovers to whom Time is whispering. From sudden-opened doors we heard them sing: The nodding […]...
40. Lines To Be Embroidered On A Bib OR The Child Is Father Of The Man, But Not For Quite A While So Thomas Edison Never drank his medicine; So Blackstone and Hoyle Refused cod-liver oil; So Sir Thomas Malory Never heard of a calory; So the Earl of Lennox Murdered Rizzio without the aid of vitamins or calisthenox; So Socrates and Plato […]...