Grass

Related poetry:

1. Grass The living room is overgrown with grass. It has Come up around the furniture. It stretches through The dining room, past the swinging door into the Kitchen. It extends for miles and miles into the Walls. . . There’s treasure in grass, things dropped or put There; a stick of rust that was once a […]...
2. Oh Shadow on the Grass Oh Shadow on the Grass, Art thou a Step or not? Go make thee fair my Candidate My nominated Heart Oh Shadow on the Grass While I delay to guess Some other thou wilt consecrate Oh Unelected Face...
3. Nothing grows except the grass Nothing grows except the grass. Nothing leaps into sight except some stone And what the stone contains and protects. Here, far from the beach, Far from the place where the water Returns every so often Rusted metal, mouldy wood, The corpse of a dolphin or a turtle. The wind does not blow with the force […]...
4. At Grass The eye can hardly pick them out From the cold shade they shelter in, Till wind distresses tail and main; Then one crops grass, and moves about – The other seeming to look on – And stands anonymous again Yet fifteen years ago, perhaps Two dozen distances surficed To fable them: faint afternoons Of Cups […]...
5. Cut Grass Cut grass lies frail: Brief is the breath Mown stalks exhale. Long, long the death It dies in the white hours Of young-leafed June With chestnut flowers, With hedges snowlike strewn, White lilac bowed, Lost lanes of Queen Anne’s lace, And that high-builded cloud Moving at summer’s pace....
6. The Grass so little has to do The Grass so little has to do A Sphere of simple Green With only Butterflies to brood And Bees to entertain And stir all day to pretty Tunes The Breezes fetch along And hold the Sunshine in its lap And bow to everything And thread the Dews, all night, like Pearls And make itself so […]...
7. A narrow Fellow in the Grass A narrow Fellow in the Grass Occasionally rides You may have met Him did you not His notice sudden is The Grass divides as with a Comb A spotted shaft is seen And then it closes at your feet And opens further on He likes a Boggy Acre A Floor too cool for Corn Yet […]...
8. In Tall Grass BEES and a honeycomb in the dried head of a horse in a pasture corner-a skull in the tall grass and a buzz and a buzz of the yellow honey-hunters. And I ask no better a winding sheet (over the earth and under the sun.) Let the bees go honey-hunting with yellow blur of wings […]...
9. Eel-Grass No matter what I say, All that I really love Is the rain that flattens on the bay, And the eel-grass in the cove; The jingle-shells that lie and bleach At the tide-line, and the trace Of higher tides along the beach: Nothing in this place....
10. On my volcano grows the Grass On my volcano grows the Grass A meditative spot An acre for a Bird to choose Would be the General thought How red the Fire rocks below How insecure the sod Did I disclose Would populate with awe my solitude....
11. 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 […]...
12. A chilly Peace infests the Grass A chilly Peace infests the Grass The Sun respectful lies Not any Trance of industry These shadows scrutinize Whose Allies go no more astray For service or for Glee But all mankind deliver here From whatsoever sea...
13. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
14. Dew is the Freshet in the Grass Dew is the Freshet in the Grass ‘Tis many a tiny Mill Turns unperceived beneath our feet And Artisan lies still We spy the Forests and the Hills The Tents to Nature’s Show Mistake the Outside for the in And mention what we saw. Could Commentators on the Sign Of Nature’s Caravan Obtain “Admission” as […]...
15. Prairie-Grass Dividing, The THE prairie-grass dividing-its special odor breathing, I demand of it the spiritual corresponding, Demand the most copious and close companionship of men, Demand the blades to rise of words, acts, beings, Those of the open atmosphere, coarse, sunlit, fresh, nutritious, Those that go their own gait, erect, stepping with freedom and command-leading, not following, Those […]...
16. An Acre Of Grass Picture and book remain, An acre of green grass For air and exercise, Now strength of body goes; Midnight, an old house Where nothing stirs but a mouse. My temptation is quiet. Here at life’s end Neither loose imagination, Nor the mill of the mind Consuming its rag and bonc, Can make the truth known. […]...
17. The Wind begun to rock the Grass The Wind begun to rock the Grass With threatening Tunes and low He threw a Menace at the Earth A Menace at the Sky. The Leaves unhooked themselves from Trees And started all abroad The Dust did scoop itself like Hands And threw away the Road. The Wagons quickened on the Streets The Thunder hurried […]...
18. Sand Scribblings THE WIND stops, the wind begins. The wind says stop, begin. A sea shovel scrapes the sand floor. The shovel changes, the floor changes. The sandpipers, maybe they know. Maybe a three-pointed foot can tell. Maybe the fog moon they fly to, guesses. The sandpipers cheep “Here” and get away. Five of them fly and […]...
19. The Pile of Years is not so high The Pile of Years is not so high As when you came before But it is rising every Day From recollection’s Floor And while by standing on my Heart I still can reach the top Efface the mountain with your face And catch me ere I drop...
20. Take One Home For The Kiddies On shallow straw, in shadeless glass, Huddled by empty bowls, they sleep: No dark, no dam, no earth, no grass – Mam, get us one of them to keep. Living toys are something novel, But it soon wears off somehow. Fetch the shoebox, fetch the shovel – Mam, we’re playing funerals now....
21. ASSIGNMENT Bhaskar Roy Barman So much obsessed with a piece of work Devolved upon me and fed up with it, I felt as if I were waving my hand at a shadowgraph To walk a bit slow to have me catch up with it. Hard at work, I got habituated to the scampering of mice In […]...
22. Ready to Kill TEN minutes now I have been looking at this. I have gone by here before and wondered about it. This is a bronze memorial of a famous general Riding horseback with a flag and a sword and a revolver On him. I want to smash the whole thing into a pile of junk to be […]...
23. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
24. Lying In Grass Is this everything now, the quick delusions of flowers, And the down colors of the bright summer meadow, The soft blue spread of heaven, the bees’ song, Is this everything only a god’s Groaning dream, The cry of unconscious powers for deliverance? The distant line of the mountain, That beautifully and courageously rests in the […]...
25. 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....
26. Armistice Day (1953) Don’t jeer because we celebrate Armistice Day, Though thirty years of sorry fate Have passed away. Though still we gaurd the Sacred Flame, And fly the Flag, That World War Two with grief and shame Revealed a rag. For France cannot defend to-day Her native land; And she is far to proud to pray For […]...
27. Troths YELLOW dust on a bumble Bee’s wing, Grey lights in a woman’s Asking eyes, Red ruins in the changing Sunset embers: I take you and pile high The memories. Death will break her claws On some I keep....
28. "I Love You Sweatheart&quot A man risked his life to write the words. A man hung upside down (an idiot friend Holding his legs?) with spray paint To write the words on a girder fifty feet above A highway. And his beloved, The next morning driving to work…? His words are not (meant to be) so unique. Does she […]...
29. The Mole Said he: “I’ll dive deep in the Past, And write a book of direful days When summer skies were overcast With smoke of humble hearths ablaze; When War was rampant in the land, And poor folk cowered in the night, While ruin gaped on every hand – Of ravishing and wrath I’ll write.” Ten years […]...
30. Poor Poet ‘A man should write to please himself,’ He proudly said. Well, see his poems on the shelf, Dusty, unread. When he came to my shop each day, So peaked and cold, I’d sneak one of his books away And say ’twas sold. And then by chance he looked below, And saw a stack Of his […]...
31. The Tunnel Toil’s a tunnel, there’s no way out For fellows, the like o’ me; A beggar wi’ only a crust an’ a clout At the worst o’ the worst is free; But I work to eat, an’ I eat to work; It’s always the same old round, And I dassent fail for the day I shirk […]...
32. The Wreck of the Steamer Mohegan Good people of high and low degree, I pray ye all to list to me, And I’ll relate a terrible tale of the sea Concerning the unfortunate steamer, Mohegan, That against the Manacles Rocks, ran. ‘Twas on Friday, the 14th of October, in the year of ninety-eight, Which alas! must have been a dreadful sight; […]...
33. Flash Crimson I SHALL cry God to give me a broken foot. I shall ask for a scar and a slashed nose. I shall take the last and the worst. I shall be eaten by gray creepers in a bunkhouse where no runners of the sun come and no dogs live. And yet-of all “and yets” this […]...
34. They Who Prepare my Evening Meal Below They who prepare my evening meal below Carelessly hit the kettle as they go With tongs or shovel, And ringing round and round, Out of this hovel It makes an eastern temple by the sound. At first I thought a cow bell right at hand Mid birches sounded o’er the open land, Where I plucked […]...
35. An Excursion Steamer Sunk in the Tay ‘Twas in the year of 1888, and on July the 14th day, That an alarming accident occurred in the River Tay. Which resulted in the sinking of the Tay Ferries’ Steamer “Dundee,” Which was a most painful and sickening sight to see. The Steamer was engaged by the Independent Order of Rechabites, And all were […]...
36. Nirvana not much chance, Completely cut loose from Purpose, He was a young man Riding a bus Through North Carolina On the wat to somewhere And it began to snow And the bus stopped At a little cafe In the hills And the passengers Entered. He sat at the counter With the others, He ordered and […]...
37. Portrait (For S. A.)TO write one book in five years Or five books in one year, To be the painter and the thing painted, … where are we, bo? Wait-get his number. The barber shop handling is here And the tweeds, the cheviot, the Scotch Mist, And the flame orange scarf. Yet there is more-he sleeps […]...
38. Willard Fluke My wife lost her health, And dwindled until she weighed scarce ninety pounds. Then that woman, whom the men Styled Cleopatra, came along. And we we married ones All broke our vows, myself among the rest. Years passed and one by one Death claimed them all in some hideous form, And I was borne along […]...
39. Sick Leave When I’m asleep, dreaming and lulled and warm,- They come, the homeless ones, the noiseless dead. While the dim charging breakers of the storm Bellow and drone and rumble overhead, Out of the gloom they gather about my bed. They whisper to my heart; their thoughts are mine. ‘Why are you here with all your […]...
40. Authorship You say that father write a lot of books, but what he write I don’t Understand. He was reading to you all the evening, but could you really Make out what he meant? What nice stores, mother, you can tell us! Why can’t father Write like that, I wonder? Did he never hear from his […]...