Womanhood

Related poetry:

1. Some Advice To Those Who Will Serve Time In Prison If instead of being hanged by the neck you’re thrown inside for not giving up hope In the world, your country, your people, if you do ten or fifteen years apart from the time you have left, You won’t say, “Better I had swung from the end of a rope like a flag” You’ll put […]...
2. Coal I Is the total black, being spoken From the earth’s inside. There are many kinds of open How a diamond comes into a knot of flame How sound comes into a words, coloured By who pays what for speaking. Some words are open like a diamond On glass windows Singing out within the crash of […]...
3. Tidy I miss you too. Something old is broken, Nobody’s in hell. Sometimes I kiss strangers, Sometimes no one speaks. Today in fact It’s raining. I go out on the lawn. It’s such a tiny garden, Like a photo of a pool. I am cold, Are you? Sometimes we go dancing, Cars follow us back home. […]...
4. Strayed Crab This is not my home. How did I get so far from water? It must Be over that way somewhere. I am the color of wine, of tinta. The inside of my powerful Right claw is saffron-yellow. See, I see it now; I wave it like a Flag. I am dapper and elegant; I move […]...
5. Hats HATS, where do you belong? what is under you? On the rim of a skyscraper’s forehead I looked down and saw: hats: fifty thousand hats: Swarming with a noise of bees and sheep, cattle and waterfalls, Stopping with a silence of sea grass, a silence of prairie corn. Hats: tell me your high hopes....
6. The Egg-Shell The wind took off with the sunset The fog came up with the tide, When the Witch of the North took an Egg-shell With a little Blue Devil inside. “Sink,” she said, “or swim,” she said, “It’s all you will bet from me. And that is the finish of him!” she said And the Egg-shell […]...
7. SUMMER FEVER The unsettled trees seem to share My tensions of body and mind: Unable to move before the shell of the wind, Yielding as much as their nature allows, They will break if pushed too far, Splinter to show the white flesh of their wood And sweet transparencies of sap. If 1 am pushed too far […]...
8. Sea Shell Sea Shell, Sea Shell, Sing me a song, O Please! A song of ships, and sailor men, And parrots, and tropical trees, Of islands lost in the Spanish Main Which no man ever may find again, Of fishes and corals under the waves, And seahorses stabled in great green caves. Sea Shell, Sea Shell, Sing […]...
9. Domestic Work, 1937 All week she’s cleaned Someone else’s house, Stared down her own face In the shine of copper Bottomed pots, polished Wood, toilets she’d pull The lid to that look saying Let’s make a change, girl. But Sunday mornings are hers Church clothes starched And hanging, a record spinning On the console, the whole house Dancing. […]...
10. Always Unsuitable She wore little teeth of pearls around her neck. They were grinning politely and evenly at me. Unsuitable they smirked. It is true I look a stuffed turkey in a suit. Breasts Too big for the silhouette. She knew At once that we had sex, lots of it As if I had strolled into her […]...
11. 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 […]...
12. The House Of Dust: Part 03: 06: Portrait Of One Dead This is the house. On one side there is darkness, On one side there is light. Into the darkness you may lift your lanterns- O, any number-it will still be night. And here are echoing stairs to lead you downward To long sonorous halls. And here is spring forever at these windows, With roses on […]...
13. When Cold December WHEN cold December Froze to grisamber The jangling bells on the sweet rose-trees Then fading slow And furred is the snow As the almond’s sweet husk And smelling like musk. The snow amygdaline Under the eglantine Where the bristling stars shine Like a gilt porcupine The snow confesses The little Princesses On their small chioppines […]...
14. The Waiting Silence has no zen today. Ambient freeway noise From ј mile away, The occasional Friday nighter Coming home 2:00 a. m. Saturday, The appliances with two-tone hums, The bumping and grinding Of an old swamp cooler, A distant train, Forces what has been pushed back To break through. My father needs O 2 All the […]...
15. A Parody on "A Psalm of Life&quot Life is real, life is earnest, And the shell is not its pen – “Egg thou art, and egg remainest” Was not spoken of the hen. Art is long and Time is fleeting, Be our bills then sharpened well, And not like muffled drums be beating On the inside of the shell. In the world’s […]...
16. Men When I was young, I used to Watch behind the curtains As men walked up and down the street. Wino men, old men. Young men sharp as mustard. See them. Men are always Going somewhere. They knew I was there. Fifteen Years old and starving for them. Under my window, they would pause, Their shoulders […]...
17. Listening I listen to the stillness of you, My dear, among it all; I feel your silence touch my words as I talk, And take them in thrall. My words fly off a forge The length of a spark; I see the night-sky easily sip them Up in the dark. The lark sings loud and glad, […]...
18. Giant Snail The rain has stopped. The waterfall will roar like that all Night. I have come out to take a walk and feed. My body foot, That is is wet and cold and covered with sharp gravel. It is White, the size of a dinner plate. I have set myself a goal, a Certain rock, but […]...
19. Factory Windows are Always Broken FACTORY windows are always broken. Somebody’s always throwing bricks, Somebody’s always heaving cinders, Playing ugly Yahoo tricks. Factory windows are always broken. Other windows are let alone. No one throws through the chapel-window The bitter, snarling, derisive stone. Factory windows are always broken. Something or other is going wrong. Something is rotten I think, in […]...
20. On the March So the time seems come at last, And the drums go rolling past, And above them in the sunlight Labour’s banners float and flow; They are marching with the sun, But I look in vain for one Of the men who fought for freedom more than fifteen years ago. They were men who did the […]...
21. The Hayloft Through all the pleasant meadow-side The grass grew shoulder-high, Till the shining scythes went far and wide And cut it down to dry. Those green and sweetly smelling crops They led the waggons home; And they piled them here in mountain tops For mountaineers to roam. Here is Mount Clear, Mount Rusty-Nail, Mount Eagle and […]...
22. The Apparitions Because there is safety in derision I talked about an apparition, I took no trouble to convince, Or seem plausible to a man of sense. Distrustful of thar popular eye Whether it be bold or sly. Fifteen apparitions have I seen; The worst a coat upon a coat-hanger. I have found nothing half so good […]...
23. Love and Sleep Lying asleep between the strokes of night I saw my love lean over my sad bed, Pale as the duskiest lily’s leaf or head, Smooth-skinned and dark, with bare throat made to bite, Too wan for blushing and too warm for white, But perfect-colored without white or red. And her lips opened amorously, and said […]...
24. Butterfly Butterfly, the wind blows sea-ward, strong beyond the garden-wall! Butterfly, why do you settle on my shoe, and sip the dirt on my shoe, Lifting your veined wings, lifting them? big white butterfly! Already it is October, and the wind blows strong to the sea From the hills where snow must have fallen, the wind […]...
25. The Windows In these darkened rooms, where I spend Oppresive days, I pace to and fro To find the windows. When a window Opens, it will be a consolation. But the windows cannot be found, or I cannot Find them. And maybe it is best that I do not find them. Maybe the light will be a […]...
26. The Owners Of The Little Box Line the inside of the little box With your precious skin And make yourself cozy Just as you would in your own home Make space voyages inside her Gather stars make time squirt its milk And sleep in the clouds Just don’t go around pretending You’re more important than her length And wiser than her […]...
27. The Belltower the weighing is done in autumn And the sifting What is to be threshed Is threshed in autumn What is to be gathered is taken The wind does not die in autumn The moon Shifts endlessly thru flying clouds In autumn the sea is high & a golden light plays everywhere Making it harder To […]...
28. Potomac Town in February THE BRIDGE says: Come across, try me; see how good I am. The big rock in the river says: Look at me; learn how to stand up. The white water says: I go on; around, under, over, I go on. A kneeling, scraggly pine says: I am here yet; they nearly got me last year. […]...
29. Shoveling Snow With Buddha In the usual iconography of the temple or the local Wok You would never see him doing such a thing, Tossing the dry snow over a mountain Of his bare, round shoulder, His hair tied in a knot, A model of concentration. Sitting is more his speed, if that is the word For what he […]...
30. Wet City Night Light drunkenly reels into shadow; Blurs, slurs uneasily; Slides off the eyeballs: The segments shatter. Tree-branches cut arc-light in ragged Fluttering wet strips. The cup of the sky-sign is filled too full; It slushes wine over. The street-lamps dance a tarentella And zigzag down the street: They lift and fly away In a wind of […]...
31. Gyroscope This admirable gadget, when it is Wound on a string and spun with steady force, Maintains its balance on most any smooth Surface, pleasantly humming as it goes. It is whirled not on a constant course, but still Stands in unshivering integrity For quite some time, meaning nothing perhaps But being something agreeable to watch, […]...
32. Nyctivoe (extract) Translated by Shorsha Sullivan (book includes DVD with audio performance directed by Piers Burton-Page, slide show of sculptures by Fritz Unegg, and video by Gudrun Bielz). Shoestring Press, March, 2005. Nyctivoe, pages 1-5 . Night had already fallen when I passed to the other side of the station and went out on to the road. […]...
33. Name His name has been ghosted over the fence, Leaving an alias, burn, prison clothes. I’m half the man, he says, not my sentence, Waiting on time that other people chose. From their windows men sing out numbers, names, Hands to the grille light for the come-back call, But words get lost, change allegiance, and blame’s […]...
34. The Sonnets To Orpheus: I A tree ascended there. Oh pure transendence! Oh Orpheus sings! Oh tall tree in the ear! And all things hushed. Yet even in that silence A new beginning, beckoning, change appeared. Creatures of stillness crowded from the bright Unbound forest, out of their lairs and nests; And it was not from any dullness, not From […]...
35. Sea horn within the shell swim all the sea’s fish Our ears too are compendiums of sound The big bang exploded – such a long wish Waves and warps towards the present ground Shell to ear – each breeds the other’s cry Infinity in slices sluiced in words Haunting the future in us till we die And […]...
36. Why the Young Men Are So Ugly They have little tractors in their blood And all day the tractors climb up and down Inside their arms and legs, their Collarbones and heads. That is why they yell and scream and slam the barbells Down into their clanking slots, Making the metal ring like sledgehammers on iron, Like dungeon prisoners rattling their chains. […]...
37. A Visit To The Asylum Once from a big, big building, When I was small, small, The queer folk in the windows Would smile at me and call. And in the hard wee gardens Such pleasant men would hoe: “Sir, may we touch the little girl’s hair!”- It was so red, you know. They cut me coloured asters With shears […]...
38. Roses You love the roses – so do I. I wish The sky would rain down roses, as they rain From off the shaken bush. Why will it not? Then all the valley would be pink and white And soft to tread on. They would fall as light As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be […]...
39. Minnie and Winnie Minnie and Winnie Slept in a shell. Sleep, little ladies! And they slept well. Pink was the shell within, Silver without; Sounds of the great sea Wander’d about. Sleep, little ladies! Wake not soon! Echo on echo Dies to the moon. Two bright stars Peep’d into the shell. “What are you dreaming of? Who can […]...
40. Ghosts I to a crumpled cabin came Upon a hillside high, And with me was a withered dame As weariful as I. “It used to be our home,” she said; “How well I remember well! Oh that our happy hearth should be Today an empty shell!” The door was flailing in the storm That deafed us […]...