Smoke

Related poetry:

1. Smoke-Rings BOY Most venerable and learned sir, Tall and true Philosopher, These rings of smoke you blow all day With such deep thought, what sense have they? PHILOSOPHER Small friend, with prayer and meditation I make an image of Creation. And if your mind is working nimble Straightway you’ll recognize a symbol Of the endless and […]...
2. Smoke Smoke, it is all smoke In the throat of eternity. . . . For centuries, the air was full of witches Whistling up chimneys On their spiky brooms Cackling or singing more sweetly than Circe, As they flew over rooftops Blessing & cursing their Kind. We banished & burned them Making them smoke in the […]...
3. Smoke Rose Gold THE DOME of the capitol looks to the Potomac river. Out of haze over the sunset, Out of a smoke rose gold: One star shines over the sunset. Night takes the dome and the river, the sun and the smoke rose gold, The haze changes from sunset to star. The pour of a thin silver […]...
4. Smoke Can you imagine the air filled with smoke? It was. The city was vanishing before noon Or was it earlier than that? I can’t say because The light came from nowhere and went nowhere. This was years ago, before you were born, before Your parents met in a bus station downtown. She’d come on Friday […]...
5. Smoke and Steel SMOKE of the fields in spring is one, Smoke of the leaves in autumn another. Smoke of a steel-mill roof or a battleship funnel, They all go up in a line with a smokestack, Or they twist… in the slow twist… of the wind. If the north wind comes they run to the south. If […]...
6. Losses It was not dying: everybody died. It was not dying: we had died before In the routine crashes and our fields Called up the papers, wrote home to our folks, And the rates rose, all because of us. We died on the wrong page of the almanac, Scattered on mountains fifty miles away; Diving on […]...
7. New England Here where the wind is always north-north-east And children learn to walk on frozen toes, Wonder begets an envy of all those Who boil elsewhere with such a lyric yeast Of love that you will hear them at a feast Where demons would appeal for some repose, Still clamoring where the chalice overflows And crying […]...
8. Smoke Light-winged Smoke, Icarian bird, Melting thy pinions in thy upward flight, Lark without song, and messenger of dawn, Circling above the hamlets as thy nest; Or else, departing dream, and shadowy form Of midnight vision, gathering up thy skirts; By night star-veiling, and by day Darkening the light and blotting out the sun; Go thou […]...
9. Three Pieces on the Smoke of Autumn SMOKE of autumn is on it all. The streamers loosen and travel. The red west is stopped with a gray haze. They fill the ash trees, they wrap the oaks, They make a long-tailed rider In the pocket of the first, the earliest evening star.. . . Three muskrats swim west on the Desplaines River. […]...
10. Robinson The dog stops barking after Robinson has gone. His act is over. The world is a gray world, Not without violence, and he kicks under the grand piano, The nightmare chase well under way. The mirror from Mexico, stuck to the wall, Reflects nothing at all. The glass is black. Robinson alone provides the image […]...
11. When Smoke Stood Up From Ludlow When smoke stood up from Ludlow, And mist blew off from Teme, And blithe afield to ploughing Against the morning beam I strode beside my team, The blackbird in the coppice Looked out to see me stride, And hearkened as I whistled The trampling team beside, And fluted and replied: “Lie down, lie down, young […]...
12. Nocturne of the Wharves All night they whine upon their ropes and boom Against the dock with helpless prows: These little ships that are too worn for sailing Front the wharf but do not rest at all. Tugging at the dim gray wharf they think No doubt of China and of bright Bombay, And they remember islands of the […]...
13. Snow SNOW took us away from the smoke valleys into white mountains, we saw velvet blue cows eating a vermillion grass and they gave us a pink milk. Snow changes our bones into fog streamers caught by the wind and spelled into many dances. Six bits for a sniff of snow in the old days bought […]...
14. Legends CLOWNS DYINGFIVE circus clowns dying this year, morning newspapers told their lives, how each one horizontal in a last gesture of hands arranged by an undertaker, shook thousands into convulsions of laughter from behind rouge-red lips and powder-white face. STEAMBOAT BILLWhen the boilers of the Robert E. Lee exploded, a steamboat winner of many races […]...
15. The Great Lament Of My Obscurity Three where we live the flowers of the clocks catch fire and the plumes encircle the brightness in the distant sulphur morning the cows lick the salt lilies My son My son Let us always shuffle through the colour of the world Which looks bluer than the subway and astronomy We are too thin We have […]...
16. Flanders FLANDERS, the name of a place, a country of people, Spells itself with letters, is written in books. “Where is Flanders?” was asked one time, Flanders known only to those who lived there And milked cows and made cheese and spoke the home language. “Where is Flanders?” was asked. And the slang adepts shot the […]...
17. When I'm Killed When I’m killed, don’t think of me Buried there in Cambrin Wood, Nor as in Zion think of me With the Intolerable Good. And there’s one thing that I know well, I’m damned if I’ll be damned to Hell! So when I’m killed, don’t wait for me, Walking the dim corridor; In Heaven or Hell, […]...
18. North Country North Country, filled with gesturing wood, With trees that fence, like archers’ volleys, The flanks of hidden valleys Where nothing’s left to hide But verticals and perpendiculars, Like rain gone wooden, fixed in falling, Or fingers blindly feeling For what nobody cares; Or trunks of pewter, bangled by greedy death, Stuck with black staghorns, quietly […]...
19. Doctor Meyers No other man, unless it was Doc Hill, Did more for people in this town than l. And all the weak, the halt, the improvident And those who could not pay flocked to me. I was good-hearted, easy Doctor Meyers. I was healthy, happy, in comfortable fortune, Blest with a congenial mate, my children raised, […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. Stone Villages The stone-built villages of England. A cathedral bottled in a pub window. Cows dispersed across fields. Monuments to kings. A man in a moth-eaten suit Sees a train off, heading, like everything here, for the sea, Smiles at his daughter, leaving for the East. A whistle blows. And the endless sky over the tiles Grows […]...
22. Hits and Runs I REMEMBER the Chillicothe ball players grappling the Rock Island ball players in a sixteen-inning game ended by darkness. And the shoulders of the Chillicothe players were a red smoke against the sundown and the shoulders of the Rock Island players were a yellow smoke against the sundown. And the umpire’s voice was hoarse calling […]...
23. The Assassin The correct death is written in. I will fill the need. My bow is stiff. My bow is in readiness. I am the bullet and the hook. I am cocked and held ready. In my sights I carve him Like a sculptor. I mold out His last look at everyone. I carry his eyes and […]...
24. The Absence I speak to you across cities I speak to you across plains My mouth is upon your pillow Both faces of the walls come meeting My voice discovering you I speak to you of eternity O cities memories of cities Cities wrapped in our desires Cities come early cities come lately Cities strong and cities […]...
25. Immortality WE must pass like smoke or live within the spirit’s fire; For we can no more than smoke unto the flame return If our thought has changed to dream, our will unto desire, As smoke we vanish though the fire may burn. Lights of infinite pity star the grey dusk of our days: Surely here […]...
26. Smoke Last summer, lazing by the sea, I met a most entrancing creature, Her black eyes quite bewildered me – She had a Spanish cast of feature. She often smoked a cigarette, And did it in the cutest fashion. Before a week passed by she set My young heart in a raging passion. I swore I […]...
27. Palladiums IN the newspaper office-who are the spooks? Who wears the mythic coat invisible? Who pussyfoots from desk to desk with a speaking forefinger? Who gumshoes amid the copy paper with a whispering thumb? Speak softly-the sacred cows may hear. Speak easy-the sacred cows must be fed....
28. Bruise blue Frail as smoke, she drifts through the crowded train, bringing with her the cold ashes of poverty. Without a word, her bruise-blue eyes try to niggle each passenger to part with coins or a note. The sign pleads her story: Three children in foster care. Like promises of happier times, some passengers toss hard-edged confetti […]...
29. Equinox I must keep from breaking into the story by force For if I do I will find myself with a war club in my hand And the smoke of grief staggering toward the sun, Your nation dead beside you. I keep walking away though it has been an eternity And from each drop of blood […]...
30. Poems Done on a Late Night Car I. CHICKENS I am The Great White Way of the city: When you ask what is my desire, I answer: “Girls fresh as country wild flowers, With young faces tired of the cows and barns, Eager in their eyes as the dawn to find my mysteries, Slender supple girls with shapely legs, Lure in the […]...
31. Annuitant Oh I am neither rich nor poor, No worker I dispoil; Yet I am glad to be secure From servitude and toil. For with my lifelong savings I Have bought annuity; And so unto the day I die I’ll have my toast and tea. When on the hob the kettle sings I’ll make an amber […]...
32. The Other One “Gather around me, children dear; The wind is high and the night is cold; Closer, little ones, snuggle near; Let’s seek a story of ages old; A magic tale of a bygone day, Of lovely ladies and dragons dread; Come, for you’re all so tired of play, We’ll read till it’s time to go to […]...
33. TO HIS MUSE Whither, mad maiden, wilt thou roam? Far safer ’twere to stay at home; Where thou mayst sit, and piping, please The poor and private cottages. Since cotes and hamlets best agree With this thy meaner minstrelsy. There with the reed thou mayst express The shepherd’s fleecy happiness; And with thy Eclogues intermix: Some smooth and […]...
34. Street Window THE PAWN-SHOP man knows hunger, And how far hunger has eaten the heart Of one who comes with an old keepsake. Here are wedding rings and baby bracelets, Scarf pins and shoe buckles, jeweled garters, Old-fashioned knives with inlaid handles, Watches of old gold and silver, Old coins worn with finger-marks. They tell stories....
35. On the Seashore On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. The infinite sky is motionless overhead and the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds the children meet with shouts and dances. They build their houses with sand, and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float […]...
36. She Didn’t Mean To Do It Oh, she was sad, oh, she was sad. She didn’t mean to do it. Certain thrills stay tucked in your limbs, Go no further than your fingers, move your legs through their paces, But no more. Certain thrills knock you flat On your sheets on your bed in your room and you fade And they […]...
37. Seashore On the seashore of endless worlds children meet. The infinite sky is motionless overhead And the restless water is boisterous. On the seashore of endless worlds The children meet with shouts and dances. They build their houses with sand And they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats And smilingly float […]...
38. In Praise of Songs that Die AFTER HAVING READ A GREAT DEAL OF GOOD CURRENT POETRY IN THE MAGAZINES AND NEWSPAPERS Ah, they are passing, passing by, Wonderful songs, but born to die! Cries from the infinite human seas, Waves thrice-winged with harmonies. Here I stand on a pier in the foam Seeing the songs to the beach go home, Dying […]...
39. The Immortals I killed them, but they would not die. Yea! all the day and all the night For them I could not rest or sleep, Nor guard from them nor hide in flight. Then in my agony I turned And made my hands red in their gore. In vain – for faster than I slew They […]...
40. My Rocking-Chair When I am old and worse for wear I want to buy a rocking-chair, And set it on a porch where shine The stars of morning-glory vine; With just beyond, a gleam of grass, A shady street where people pass; And some who come with time to spare, To yarn beside my rocking-chair. Then I […]...