Fire Dreams

Related poetry:

1. How happy I was if I could forget How happy I was if I could forget To remember how sad I am Would be an easy adversity But the recollecting of Bloom Keeps making November difficult Till I who was almost bold Lose my way like a little Child And perish of the cold....
2. Carlovingian Dreams COUNT these reminiscences like money. The Greeks had their picnics under another name. The Romans wore glad rags and told their neighbors, “What of it?” The Carlovingians hauling logs on carts, they too Stuck their noses in the air and stuck their thumbs to their noses And tasted life as a symphonic dream of fresh […]...
3. The Old Man Dreams OH for one hour of youthful joy! Give back my twentieth spring! I’d rather laugh, a bright-haired boy, Than reign, a gray-beard king. Off with the spoils of wrinkled age! Away with Learning’s crown! Tear out life’s Wisdom-written page, And dash its trophies down! One moment let my life-blood stream From boyhood’s fount of flame! […]...
4. Fire Pages I WILL read ashes for you, if you ask me. I will look in the fire and tell you from the gray lashes And out of the red and black tongues and stripes, I will tell how fire comes And how fire runs far as the sea....
5. Corn Hut Talk WRITE your wishes on the door and come in. Stand outside in the pools of the harvest moon. Bring in the handshake of the pumpkins. There’s a wish for every hazel nut? There’s a hope for every corn shock? There’s a kiss for every clumsy climbing shadow? Clover and the bumblebees once, High winds and […]...
6. Dreams in the dusk DREAMS in the dusk, Only dreams closing the day And with the day’s close going back To the gray things, the dark things, The far, deep things of dreamland. Dreams, only dreams in the dusk, Only the old remembered pictures Of lost days when the day’s loss Wrote in tears the heart’s loss. Tears and […]...
7. My Dreams, My Works, Must Wait Till After Hell I hold my honey and I store my bread In little jars and cabinets of my will. I label clearly, and each latch and lid I bid, Be firm till I return from hell. I am very hungry. I am incomplete. And none can give me any word but Wait, The puny light. I keep […]...
8. Fire-Fly City Like a long arrow through the dark the train is darting, Bearing me far away, after a perfect day of love’s delight: Wakeful with all the sad-sweet memories of parting, I lift the narrow window-shade and look out on the night. Lonely the land unknown, and like a river flowing, Forest and field and hill […]...
9. Fire-Logs NANCY HANKS dreams by the fire; Dreams, and the logs sputter, And the yellow tongues climb. Red lines lick their way in flickers. Oh, sputter, logs. Oh, dream, Nancy. Time now for a beautiful child. Time now for a tall man to come....
10. The wanderer Upon a mountain height, far from the sea, I found a shell, And to my listening ear the lonely thing Ever a song of ocean seemed to sing, Ever a tale of ocean seemed to tell. How came the shell upon that mountain height? Ah, who can say Whether there dropped by some too careless […]...
11. Fire-Caught The gold moth did not love him So, gorgeous, she flew away. But the gray moth circled the flame Until the break of day. And then, with wings like a dead desire, She fell, fire-caught, into the flame....
12. Paula NOTHING else in this song-only your face. Nothing else here-only your drinking, night-gray eyes. The pier runs into the lake straight as a rifle barrel. I stand on the pier and sing how I know you mornings. It is not your eyes, your face, I remember. It is not your dancing, race-horse feet. It is […]...
13. When The Year Grows Old I cannot but remember When the year grows old- October-November- How she disliked the cold! She used to watch the swallows Go down across the sky, And turn from the window With a little sharp sigh. And often when the brown leaves Were brittle on the ground, And the wind in the chimney Made a […]...
14. Sea Dreams A city clerk, but gently born and bred; His wife, an unknown artist’s orphan child One babe was theirs, a Margaret, three years old: They, thinking that her clear germander eye Droopt in the giant-factoried city-gloom, Came, with a month’s leave given them, to the sea: For which his gains were dock’d, however small: Small […]...
15. The Crazy Woman I shall not sing a May song. A May song should be gay. I’ll wait until November And sing a song of gray. I’ll wait until November That is the time for me. I’ll go out in the frosty dark And sing most terribly. And all the little people Will stare at me and say, […]...
16. By The Fire-Side I. How well I know what I mean to do When the long dark autumn-evenings come: And where, my soul, is thy pleasant hue? With the music of all thy voices, dumb In life’s November too! II. I shall be found by the fire, suppose, O’er a great wise book as beseemeth age, While the […]...
17. Urbs Coronata (Song for the City College of New York) O youngest of the giant brood Of cities far-renowned; In wealth and power thou hast passed Thy rivals at a bound; And now thou art a queen, New York; And how wilt thou be crowned? “Weave me no palace-wreath of pride,” The royal city said; “Nor forge […]...
18. Seaweed When descends on the Atlantic The gigantic Storm-wind of the equinox, Landword in his wrath he scourges The toiling surges, Laden with seaweed from the rocks: From Bermuda’s reefs; from edges Of sunken ledges, In some far-off, bright Azore; From Bahama, and the dashing Silver-flashing Surges of San Salvador; From the tumbling surf, that buries […]...
19. Cry your dreams cry your dreams Child, Cry silent your screams As Still again, Those masters of war Face our souls And try to ignore. The broken tears Lying Shattered still, Across graveyards Too full. Our children There they lie, Lost to reason Lost to sky Fatherless children Asking Still asking why? Do we bleed Our eyes blind, […]...
20. Fire's Reflection Perhaps it’s no more than the fire’s reflection On some piece of gleaming furniture That the child remembers so much later Like a revelation. And if in his later life, one day Wounds him like so many others, It’s because he mistook some risk Or other for a promise. Let’s not forget the music, either, […]...
21. The dreams Two dreams came down to earth one night From the realm of mist and dew; One was a dream of the old, old days, And one was a dream of the new. One was a dream of a shady lane That led to the pickerel pond Where the willows and rushes bowed themselves To the […]...
22. The Night-Fire No engines shrieking rescue storm the night, And hose and hydrant cannot here avail; The flames laugh high and fling their challenging light, And clouds turn gray and black from silver-pale. The fire leaps out and licks the ancient walls, And the big building bends and twists and groans. A bar drops from its place; […]...
23. Broken Dreams There is grey in your hair. Young men no longer suddenly catch their breath When you are passing; But maybe some old gaffer mutters a blessing Because it was your prayer Recovered him upon the bed of death. For your sole sake – that all heart’s ache have known, And given to others all heart’s […]...
24. Dreams of a lifetime Ronald Hi Khong Wong is gone, Sadly he deceased The commencement of this week. It wasn’t unexpected. He never contradicted The prediction of his death Although, perhaps, he hoped for time To sort some odds and ends, And we for time to make allowances For our friend’s impending end. Alas it weren’t to be. We […]...
25. The Fire At Tranter Sweatley's They had long met o’ Zundays her true love and she And at junketings, maypoles, and flings; But she bode wi’ a thirtover uncle, and he Swore by noon and by night that her goodman should be Naibor Sweatley a gaffer oft weak at the knee From taking o’ sommat more cheerful than tea Who […]...
26. The Land Of Dreams Awake, awake my little Boy! Thou wast thy Mother’s only joy: Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep? Awake! thy Father does thee keep. “O, what land is the Land of Dreams? What are its mountains, and what are its streams? O Father, I saw my Mother there, Among the lillies by waters fair. […]...
27. The Red Flower In the pleasant time of Pentecost, By the little river Kyll, I followed the angler’s winding path Or waded the stream at will, And the friendly fertile German land Lay round me green and still. But all day long on the eastern bank Of the river cool and clear, Where the curving track of the […]...
28. A Fire-Truck Right down the shocked street with a siren-blast That sends all else skittering to the curb, Redness, brass, ladders and hats hurl past, Blurring to sheer verb, Shift at the corner into uproarious gear And make it around the turn in a squall of traction, The headlong bell maintaining sure and clear, Thought is degraded […]...
29. The Disastrous Fire at Scarborough ‘Twas in the year of 1898, and on the 8th of June, A mother and six children met with a cruel doom In one of the most fearful fires for some years past And as the spectators gazed upon them they stood aghast The fire broke out in a hairdresser’s, in the town of Scarborough, […]...
30. Try To Remember Some Details Try to remember some details. Remember the clothing Of the one you love So that on the day of loss you’ll be able to say: last seen Wearing such-and-such, brown jacket, white hat. Try to remember some details. For they have no face And their soul is hidden and their crying Is the same as […]...
31. A Refusal To Mourn The Death, By Fire, Of A Child In London Never until the mankind making Bird beast and flower Fathering and all humbling darkness Tells with silence the last light breaking And the still hour Is come of the sea tumbling in harness And I must enter again the round Zion of the water bead And the synagogue of the ear of corn Shall I […]...
32. In the Days of the Golden Rod Across the meadow in brooding shadow I walk to drink of the autumn’s wine­ The charm of story, the artist’s glory, To-day on these silvering hills is mine; On height, in hollow, where’er I follow, By mellow hillside and searing sod, Its plumes uplifting, in light winds drifting, I see the glimmer of golden-rod. In […]...
33. Elephant Dormitory An elephant went to bed and pulled a crazy quilt up under Its tusks. But just as the great gray head began filling with the gray Wrinkles of sleep it was awakened by the thud of its tail Falling out of bed. Would you get my tail? said the elephant to another Elephant also tucked […]...
34. I Have a Fire for You in my Mouth I have a fire for you in my mouth, but I have a hundred seals On my tongue. The flames which I have in my heart would make one mouth – Ful of both worlds. Though the entire world should pass away, without the world I possess the kingdom of a hundred worlds. Caravans which […]...
35. To Some I Have Talked With By The Fire While I wrought out these fitful Danaan rhymes, My heart would brim with dreams about the times When we bent down above the fading coals And talked of the dark folk who live in souls Of passionate men, like bats in the dead trees; And of the wayward twilight companies Who sigh with mingled sorrow […]...
36. Armies in the Fire The lamps now glitter down the street; Faintly sound the falling feet; And the blue even slowly falls About the garden trees and walls. Now in the falling of the gloom The red fire paints the empty room: And warmly on the roof it looks, And flickers on the back of books. Armies march by […]...
37. Dreams Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awakening, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow. Yes! tho’ that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, ‘Twere better than the cold reality Of waking life, to him whose heart must be, And hath been still, upon the lovely earth, […]...
38. Ballad by the Fire Slowly I smoke and hug my knee, The while a witless masquerade Of things that only children see Floats in a mist of light and shade: They pass, a flimsy cavalcade, And with a weak, remindful glow, The falling embers break and fade, As one by one the phantoms go. Then, with a melancholy glee […]...
39. Gargoyle I SAW a mouth jeering. A smile of melted red iron ran over it. Its laugh was full of nails rattling. It was a child’s dream of a mouth. A fist hit the mouth: knuckles of gun-metal driven by an electric wrist and shoulder. It was a child’s dream of an arm. The fist hit […]...
40. By an Autumn Fire Now at our casement the wind is shrilling, Poignant and keen And all the great boughs of the pines between It is harping a lone and hungering strain To the eldritch weeping of the rain; And then to the wild, wet valley flying It is seeking, sighing, Something lost in the summer olden. When night […]...