Dusty Doors

Related poetry:

1. Circles of Doors I LOVE him, I love him, ran the patter of her lips And she formed his name on her tongue and sang And she sent him word she loved him so much, So much, and death was nothing; work, art, home, All was nothing if her love for him was not first Of all; the […]...
2. Out o'Doors There’s a gypsy wind across the harvest land, Let us fare forth with it lightly hand in hand; Where cloud shadows blow across the sunwarm waste, And the first red leaves are falling let us haste, For the waning days are lavish of their stores, And the joy of life is with us out o’ […]...
3. Mill-Doors YOU never come back. I say good-by when I see you going in the doors, The hopeless open doors that call and wait And take you then for how many cents a day? How many cents for the sleepy eyes and fingers? I say good-by because I know they tap your wrists, In the dark, […]...
4. The House Of Dust: Part 03: 13: The half-shut doors through which we heard that music The half-shut doors through which we heard that music Are softly closed. Horns mutter down to silence. The stars whirl out, the night grows deep. Darkness settles upon us. A vague refrain Drowsily teases at the drowsy brain. In numberless rooms we stretch ourselves and sleep. Where have we been? What savage chaos of music […]...
5. The Heart has many Doors The Heart has many Doors I can but knock For any sweet “Come in” Impelled to hark Not saddened by repulse, Repast to me That somewhere, there exists, Supremacy...
6. Doors of Daring The mountains that enfold the vale With walls of granite, steep and high, Invite the fearless foot to scale Their stairway toward the sky. The restless, deep, dividing sea That flows and foams from shore to shore, Calls to its sunburned chivalry, “Push out, set sail, explore!” And all the bars at which we fret, […]...
7. Shut Not Your Doors, &c SHUT not your doors to me, proud libraries, For that which was lacking on all your well-fill’d shelves, yet needed most, I bring; Forth from the army, the war emerging-a book I have made, The words of my book nothing-the drift of it everything; A book separate, not link’d with the rest, nor felt by […]...
8. The Humpbacks Listen, whatever it is you try To do with your life, nothing will ever dazzle you Like the dreams of your body, Its spirit Longing to fly while the dead-weight bones Toss their dark mane and hurry Back into the fields of glittering fire Where everything, Even the great whale, Throbs with song....
9. Doors, Doors, Doors 1. Old Man Old man, it’s four flights up and for what? Your room is hardly bigger than your bed. Puffing as you climb, you are a brown woodcut Stooped over the thin tail and the wornout tread. The room will do. All that’s left of the old life Is jampacked on shelves from floor […]...
10. Refuted ‘Anticipation is sweeter than realisation.’ It may be, yet I have not found it so. In those first golden dreams of future fame I did not find such happiness as came When toil was crowned with triumph. Now I know My words have recognition, and will go Straight to some listening heart, my early aim, […]...
11. There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
12. Locked Doors For the angels who inhabit this town, Although their shape constantly changes, Each night we leave some cold potatoes And a bowl of milk on the windowsill. Usually they inhabit heaven where, By the way, no tears are allowed. They push the moon around like A boiled yam. The Milky Way is their hen With […]...
13. The Immortal Part When I meet the morning beam, Or lay me down at night to dream, I hear my bones within me say, “Another night, another day. “When shall this slough of sense be cast, This dust of thoughts be laid at last, The man of flesh and soul be slain And the man of bone remain? […]...
14. 195. Song-A Rose-bud by my Early Walk A ROSE-BUD by my early walk, Adown a corn-enclosed bawk, Sae gently bent its thorny stalk, All on a dewy morning. Ere twice the shades o’ dawn are fled, In a’ its crimson glory spread, And drooping rich the dewy head, It scents the early morning. Within the bush her covert nest A little linnet […]...
15. To What Shall I Compare Her? TO what shall I compare her, That is as fair as she? For she is fairer – fairer Than the sea. What shall be likened to her, The sainted of my youth? For she is truer – truer Than the truth. As the stars are from the sleeper, Her heart is hid from me; For […]...
16. 215. Song-Hey, the Dusty Miller HEY, the dusty Miller, And his dusty coat, He will win a shilling, Or he spend a groat: Dusty was the coat, Dusty was the colour, Dusty was the kiss That I gat frae the Miller. Hey, the dusty Miller, And his dusty sack; Leeze me on the calling Fills the dusty peck: Fills the […]...
17. Margaret Many birds and the beating of wings Make a flinging reckless hum In the early morning at the rocks Above the blue pool Where the gray shadows swim lazy. In your blue eyes, O reckless child, I saw today many little wild wishes, Eager as the great morning....
18. Sixteen Months ON the lips of the child Janet float changing dreams. It is a thin spiral of blue smoke, A morning campfire at a mountain lake. On the lips of the child Janet, Wisps of haze on ten miles of corn, Young light blue calls to young light gold of morning....
19. The World feels Dusty The World feels Dusty When We stop to Die We want the Dew then Honors taste dry Flags vex a Dying face But the least Fan Stirred by a friend’s Hand Cools like the Rain Mine be the Ministry When they Thirst comes And Hybla Balms Dews of Thessaly, to fetch...
20. Sonnet XXVI: Though Dusty Wits Though dusty wits dare scorn astrology, And fools can think those lamps of purest light Whose numbers, ways, greatness, eternity, Promising wonders, wonder do invite, To have for no cause birthright in the sky, But for to spangle the black weeds of night: Or for some brawl, which in that chamber high, They should still […]...
21. Broken-face Gargoyles ALL I can give you is broken-face gargoyles. It is too early to sing and dance at funerals, Though I can whisper to you I am looking for an undertaker humming a lullaby and throwing his feet in a swift and mystic buck-and-wing, now you see it and now you don’t. Fish to swim a […]...
22. Halls grew darker Halls grew darker and somehow faded. Grates of windows drowned in black. Every knight, every beautiful lady Knew the tiding: “The Queen’s deadly sick.” And the king, very silent and frowned, Passed the doors, lost of pages and slaves… Every word, that by chance cast around, Proved the truth of the closing grave. By the […]...
23. The Earth-Child in the Grass In the very early morning Long before Dawn time I lay down in the paddock And listened to the cold song of the grass. Between my fingers the green blades, And the green blades pressed against my body. “Who is she leaning so heavily upon me?” Sang the grass. “Why does she weep on my […]...
24. Walt Whitman The master-songs are ended, and the man That sang them is a name. And so is God A name; and so is love, and life, and death, And everything. But we, who are too blind To read what we have written, or what faith Has written for us, do not understand: We only blink, and […]...
25. Child Margaret THE CHILD Margaret begins to write numbers on a Saturday morning, the first numbers formed under her wishing child fingers. All the numbers come well-born, shaped in figures assertive for a frieze in a child’s room. Both 1 and 7 are straightforward, military, filled with lunge and attack, erect in shoulder-straps. The 6 and 9 […]...
26. Grieg Being Dead GRIEG being dead we may speak of him and his art. Grieg being dead we can talk about whether he was any good or not. Grieg being with Ibsen, Björnson, Lief Ericson and the rest, Grieg being dead does not care a hell’s hoot what we say. Morning, Spring, Anitra’s Dance, He dreams them at […]...
27. CURFEW I. Solemnly, mournfully, Dealing its dole, The Curfew Bell Is beginning to toll. Cover the embers, And put out the light; Toil comes with the morning, And rest with the night. Dark grow the windows, And quenched is the fire; Sound fades into silence, All footsteps retire. No voice in the chambers, No sound in […]...
28. 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...
29. Blue Ridge BORN a million years ago you stay here a million years… Watching the women come and live and be laid away… You and they thin-gray thin-dusk lovely. So it goes: either the early morning lights are lovely or the early morning star. I am glad I have seen racehorses, women, mountains....
30. The Story Of Our Lives 1 We are reading the story of our lives Which takes place in a room. The room looks out on a street. There is no one there, No sound of anything. The tress are heavy with leaves, The parked cars never move. We keep turning the pages, hoping for something, Something like mercy or change, […]...
31. The Lantern Out Of Doors Sometimes a lantern moves along the night, That interests our eyes. And who goes there? I think; where from and bound, I wonder, where, With, all down darkness wide, his wading light? Men go by me whom either beauty bright In mould or mind or what not else makes rare: They rain against our much-thick […]...
32. The Fairy Bridal-Hymn [This is the hymn to Eleanor, daughter of Mab and a golden drone, sung by the Locust choir when the fairy child marries her God, the yellow rose] This is a song to the white-armed one Cold in the breast as the frost-wrapped Spring, Whose feet are slow on the hills of life, Whose round […]...
33. Gates and Doors (For Richardson Little Wright) There was a gentle hostler (And blessed be his name!) He opened up the stable The night Our Lady came. Our Lady and Saint Joseph, He gave them food and bed, And Jesus Christ has given him A glory round his head. So let the gate swing open However poor the […]...
34. Bringers COVER me over In dusk and dust and dreams. Cover me over And leave me alone. Cover me over, You tireless, great. Hear me and cover me, Bringers of dusk and dust and dreams....
35. My Song This song of mine will wind its music around you, my child, like The fond arms of love. This song of mine will touch your forehead like a kiss of Blessing. When you are alone it will sit by your side and whisper in Your ear, when you are in the crowd it will fence […]...
36. Branches The long beautiful night of the wind and rain in April, The long night hanging down from the drooping branches of the top of a birch tree, Swinging, swaying, to the wind for a partner, to the rain for a partner. What is the humming, swishing thing they sing in the morning now? The rain, […]...
37. Old Osawatomie JOHN BROWN’S body under the morning stars. Six feet of dust under the morning stars. And a panorama of war performs itself Over the six-foot stage of circling armies. Room for Gettysburg, Wilderness, Chickamauga, On a six-foot stage of dust....
38. Tangibles (Washington, August, 1918)I HAVE seen this city in the day and the sun. I have seen this city in the night and the moon. And in the night and the moon I have seen a thing this city gave me nothing of in the day and the sun. The float of the dome in the […]...
39. Sandpipers Sandland where the salt water kills the sweet potatoes. Homes for sandpipers-the script of their feet is on the sea shingles-they write in the morning, it is gone at noon-they write at noon, it is gone at night. Pity the land, the sea, the ten mile flats, pity anything but the sandpiper’s wire legs and […]...
40. The Warden of the Cinque Ports A mist was driving down the British Channel, The day was just begun, And through the window-panes, on floor and panel, Streamed the red autumn sun. It glanced on flowing flag and rippling pennon, And the white sails of ships; And, from the frowning rampart, the black cannon Hailed it with feverish lips. Sandwich and […]...