Mill-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. Dusty Doors CHILD of the Aztec gods, How long must we listen here, How long before we go? The dust is deep on the lintels. The dust is dark on the doors. If the dreams shake our bones, what can we say or do? Since early morning we waited. Since early, early morning, child. There must be […]...
3. 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’ […]...
4. 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...
5. 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 […]...
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 Right to Grief To Certain Poets About to Die TAKE your fill of intimate remorse, perfumed sorrow, Over the dead child of a millionaire, And the pity of Death refusing any check on the bank Which the millionaire might order his secretary to Scratch off And get cashed. Very well, You for your grief and I for mine. […]...
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. The Mill The miller’s wife had waited long, The tea was cold, the fire was dead; And there might yet be nothing wrong In how he went and what he said: “There are no millers any more,” Was all that she had heard him say; And he had lingered at the door So long that it seemed […]...
11. THE MAID OF THE MILL'S REPENTANCE YOUTH. AWAY, thou swarthy witch! Go forth From out my house, I tell thee! Or else I needs must, in my wrath, Expel thee! What’s this thou singest so falsely, forsooth, Of love and a maiden’s silent truth? Who’ll trust to such a story! GIPSY. I sing of a maid’s repentant fears, And long and […]...
12. Hanchen, the Maid of the Mill Near the village of Udorf, on the banks of the Rhine, There lived a miller and his family, once on a time; And there yet stands the mill in a state of decay, And concerning the miller and his family, attend to my lay. The miller and his family went to Church one Sunday morn, […]...
13. A Spring Piece Left In The Middle Taut, thick fingers punch The teeth of my typewriter. Three words are down on paper in capitals: SPRING SPRING SPRING… And me poet, proofreader, The man who’s forced to read Two thousand bad lines every day for two liras Why, since spring has come, am I still sitting here like a ragged black chair? My […]...
14. The Liars (March, 1919)A LIAR goes in fine clothes. A liar goes in rags. A liar is a liar, clothes or no clothes. A liar is a liar and lives on the lies he tells and dies in a life of lies. And the stonecutters earn a living-with lies-on the tombs of liars. Aliar looks ’em in […]...
15. Ha'nacker Mill Sally is gone that was so kindly, Sally is gone from Ha’nacker Hill And the Briar grows ever since then so blindly; And ever since then the clapper is still… And the sweeps have fallen from Ha’nacker Mill. Ha’nacker Hill is in Desolation: Ruin a-top and a field unploughed. And Spirits that call on a […]...
16. Keepsake Mill Over the borders, a sin without pardon, Breaking the branches and crawling below, Out through the breach in the wall of the garden, Down by the banks of the river we go. Here is a mill with the humming of thunder, Here is the weir with the wonder of foam, Here is the sluice with […]...
17. 401. Song-Meg o' the Mill O KEN ye what Meg o’ the Mill has gotten, An’ ken ye what Meg o’ the Mill has gotten? She gotten a coof wi’ a claut o’ siller, And broken the heart o’ the barley Miller. The Miller was strappin, the Miller was ruddy; A heart like a lord, and a hue like a […]...
18. THE MAID OF THE MILL'S TREACHERY [This Ballad is introduced in the Wanderjahre, In a tale called The Foolish Pilgrim.] WHENCE comes our friend so hastily, When scarce the Eastern sky is grey? Hath he just ceased, though cold it be, In yonder holy spot to pray? The brook appears to hem his path, Would he barefooted o’er it go? Why […]...
19. 402. Song-Meg o' the Mill (Another Version) O KEN ye what Meg o’ the Mill has gotten, An’ ken ye what Meg o’ the Mill has gotten? A braw new naig wi’ the tail o’ a rottan, And that’s what Meg o’ the Mill has gotten. O ken ye what Meg o’ the Mill lo’es dearly, An’ ken ye what Meg o’ […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. 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 […]...
22. 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 […]...
23. Killers I AM singing to you Soft as a man with a dead child speaks; Hard as a man in handcuffs, Held where he cannot move: Under the sun Are sixteen million men, Chosen for shining teeth, Sharp eyes, hard legs, And a running of young warm blood in their wrists. And a red juice runs […]...
24. Here I Am drunk again at 3 a. m. at the end of my 2nd bottle Of wine, I have typed from a dozen to 15 pages of Poesy An old man Maddened for the flesh of young girls in this Dwindling twilight Liver gone Kidneys going Pancrea pooped Top-floor blood pressure While all the fear of the […]...
25. Last Word To Childhood Ice-cold fear has slowly decreased As my bones have grown, my height increased. Though I shiver in snow of dreams, I shall never Freeze again in a noonday terror. I shall never break, my sinews crumble As God-the-headmaster’s fingers fumble At the other side of unopening doors Which I watch for a hundred thousand years. […]...
26. For God While Sleeping Sleeping in fever, I am unfair To know just who you are: Hung up like a pig on exhibit, The delicate wrists, The beard drooling blood and vinegar; Hooked to your own weight, Jolting toward death under your nameplate. Everyone in this crowd needs a bath. I am dressed in rags. The mother wears blue. […]...
27. 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 […]...
28. To A New England Poet Though skilled in Latin and in Greek, And earning fifty cents a week, Such knowledge, and the income, too, Should teach you better what to do: The meanest drudges, kept in pay, Can pocket fifty cents a day. Why stay in such a tasteless land, Where all must on a level stand, (Excepting people, at […]...
29. I'm In Love she’s young, she said, But look at me, I have pretty ankles, And look at my wrists, I have pretty Wrists O my god, I thought it was all working, And now it’s her again, Every time she phones you go crazy, You told me it was over You told me it was finished, Listen, […]...
30. The Little Mute Boy The litle boy was looking for his voice. (The King of the crickets had it.) In a drop of water The little boy was looking for his voice. I do not want it for speaking with; I will make a ring of it So that he may wear my silence On his little finger. In […]...
31. The Answer You have spoken the answer. A child searches far sometimes Into the red dust On a dark rose leaf And so you have gone far For the answer is: Silence. In the republic Of the winking stars and spent cataclysms Sure we are it is off there the answer Is hidden and folded over, Sleeping […]...
32. From Citron-Bower From citron-bower be her bed, Cut from branch of tree a-flower, Fashioned for her maidenhead. From Lydian apples, sweet of hue, Cut the width of board and lathe, Carve the feet from myrtle-wood. Let the palings of her bed Be quince and box-wood overlaid With the scented bark of yew. That all the wood in […]...
33. Lines Draw a line. Write a line. There. Stay in line, hold the line, a glance Between the lines is fine but don’t Turn corners, cross, cut in, go over Or out, between two points of no Return’s a line of flight, between Two points of view’s a line of vision. But a line of thought […]...
34. A Curse For A Nation I heard an angel speak last night, And he said ‘Write! Write a Nation’s curse for me, And send it over the Western Sea.’ I faltered, taking up the word: ‘Not so, my lord! If curses must be, choose another To send thy curse against my brother. ‘For I am bound by gratitude, By love […]...
35. The Rain I hear leaves drinking rain; I hear rich leaves on top Giving the poor beneath Drop after drop; ‘Tis a sweet noise to hear These green leaves drinking near. And when the Sun comes out, After this Rain shall stop, A wondrous Light will fill Each dark, round drop; I hope the Sun shines bright; […]...
36. The Superseded I As newer comers crowd the fore, We drop behind. – We who have laboured long and sore Times out of mind, And keen are yet, must not regret To drop behind. II Yet there are of us some who grieve To go behind; Staunch, strenuous souls who scarce believe Their fires declined, And know […]...
37. The Wicked Postman Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, Mother dear? The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all Wet, and you don’t mind it. Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother To come home from school. What has happened […]...
38. The Prisoners Steel doors – guillotine gates – Of the doorless house closed massively. We were locked in with loss. Guards frisked us, marked our wrists, Then let us into the drab Rec Hall – Splotched green walls, high windows barred – Where the dispossessed awaited us. Hands intimate with knife and pistol, Hands that had cruelly […]...
39. 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 […]...
40. 30 Cents, Two Transfers, Love Thinking hard about you I got on the bus And paid 30 cents car fare And asked the driver for two transfers Before discovering That I was Alone....