No. 6

Related poetry:

1. Night Funeral In Harlem Night funeral In Harlem: Where did they get Them two fine cars? Insurance man, he did not pay His insurance lapsed the other day Yet they got a satin box For his head to lay. Night funeral In Harlem: Who was it sent That wreath of flowers? Them flowers came From that poor boy’s friends […]...
2. Fictitious line Smokes Of cigarettes And mugs Full of coffee, Next To the fictitious line Where the eddy Of words Leans against And nods, Wounded, To my silence....
3. A Piece Of The Storm For Sharon Horvath From the shadow of domes in the city of domes, A snowflake, a blizzard of one, weightless, entered your room And made its way to the arm of the chair where you, looking up From your book, saw it the moment it landed. That’s all There was to it. No more than […]...
4. I Sleep a Lot I sleep a lot and read St. Thomas Aquinas Or The Death of God (that’s a Protestant book). To the right the bay as if molten tin, Beyond the bay, city, beyond the city, ocean, Beyond the ocean, ocean, till Japan. To the left dry hills with white grass, Beyond the hills an irrigated valley […]...
5. The Fight A man is fighting with a cup of coffee. The rules: he must not Break the cup nor spill its coffee; nor must the cup break the Man’s bones or spill his blood. The man said, oh the hell with it, as he swept the cup to The floor. The cup did not break but […]...
6. AFTERNOON IN FEBRUARY The day is ending, The night is descending; The marsh is frozen, The river dead. Through clouds like ashes The red sun flashes On village windows That glimmer red. The snow recommences; The buried fences Mark no longer The road o’er the plain; While through the meadows, Like fearful shadows, Slowly passes A funeral train. […]...
7. Ape And Coffee Some coffee had gotten on a man’s ape. The man said, Animal did you get on my coffee? No no, whistled the ape, the coffee got on me. You’re sure you didn’t spill on my coffee? said the man. Do I look like a liquid? peeped the ape. Well you sure don’t look human, said […]...
8. I Said Coffee I said coffee I didn’t say, “would you Like to cup My warm Soft breasts In your Un-calloused, Long, Tapered, Ring less fingered Hands?” I said coffee I didn’t say, “would you Like to Run your tongue Along my neck Just below My left ear-lobe?” I said coffee I didn’t say, “would you Like to […]...
9. Cups of Coffee THE HAGGARD woman with a hacking cough and a deathless love whispers of white Flowers… in your poem you pour like a cup of coffee, Gabriel. The slim girl whose voice was lost in the waves of flesh piled on her bones… and The woman who sold to many men and saw her breasts shrivel… […]...
10. Poem For My 43rd Birthday To end up alone In a tomb of a room Without cigarettes Or wine Just a lightbulb And a potbelly, Grayhaired, And glad to have The room. …in the morning They’re out there Making money: Judges, carpenters, Plumbers, doctors, Newsboys, policemen, Barbers, carwashers, Dentists, florists, Waitresses, cooks, Cabdrivers… And you turn over To your left […]...
11. One Morning Looking for distinctive stones, I found the dead otter Rotting by the tideline, and carried all day the scent of this savage Valediction. That headlong high sound the oystercatcher makes Came echoing through the rocky cove Where a cormorant was feeding and submarining in the bay And a heron rose off a boulder where he’d […]...
12. A Song of the Road O I will walk with you, my lad, whichever way you fare, You’ll have me, too, the side o’ you, with heart as light as air; No care for where the road you take’s a-leadin’ anywhere, It can but be a joyful ja’nt whilst you journey there. The road you take’s the path o’ love, […]...
13. Coffee Sometimes life is merely a matter of coffee and whatever intimacy a cup of coffee Affords. I once read something about coffee. The thing said that coffee is good for you; It stimulates all the organs. I thought at first this was a strange way to put it, and not altogether pleasant, but As time […]...
14. A Miracle For Breakfast At six o’clock we were waiting for coffee, Waiting for coffee and the charitable crumb That was going to be served from a certain balcony -like kings of old, or like a miracle. It was still dark. One foot of the sun Steadied itself on a long ripple in the river. The first ferry of […]...
15. Young In New Orleans starving there, sitting around the bars, And at night walking the streets for hours, The moonlight always seemed fake To me, mabye it was, And in the French Quarter I watched The horses and buggies going by, Everybody sitting high in the open Carriages, the black driver, and in Back the man and the woman, […]...
16. Tz'u No. 1 To the tune “Courtyard Filled with Fragrance” Fragrant grass beside the pond Green shade over the hall A clear cold comes through The window curtains Crescent moon beyond the golden bars And a flute sounds As if someone were coming But alone on my mat with a cup Gazing sadly into nothingness I want to […]...
17. The Last Mowing There’s a place called Far-away Meadow We never shall mow in again, Or such is the talk at the farmhouse: The meadow is finished with men. Then now is the chance for the flowers That can’t stand mowers and plowers. It must be now, through, in season Before the not mowing brings trees on, Before […]...
18. LOVE LIGHTLY PLEASED Let fair or foul my mistress be, Or low, or tall, she pleaseth me; Or let her walk, or stand, or sit, The posture her’s, I’m pleased with it; Or let her tongue be still, or stir Graceful is every thing from her; Or let her grant, or else deny, My love will fit each […]...
19. Small Comfort Coffee and cigarettes in a clean cafe, Forsythia lit like a damp match against A thundery sky drunk on its own ozone, The laundry cool and crisp and folded away Again in the lavender closet-too late to find Comfort enough in such small daily moments Of beauty, renewal, calm, too late to imagine People would […]...
20. Graves I dreamed one man stood against a thousand, One man damned as a wrongheaded fool. One year and another he walked the streets, And a thousand shrugs and hoots Met him in the shoulders and mouths he passed. He died alone. And only the undertaker came to his funeral. Flowers grow over his grave anod […]...
21. The Junk Man I AM glad God saw Death And gave Death a job taking care of all who are tired Of living: When all the wheels in a clock are worn and slow and The connections loose And the clock goes on ticking and telling the wrong time From hour to hour And people around the house […]...
22. This Is A Poem I Wrote At Night, Before The Dawn This is a poem I wrote before I died and was reborn: – After the years of the apples ripening and the eagles soaring, After the festival here the small flowers gleamed like the first stars, And the horses cantered and romped away like the experience of skill; mastered and serene Power, grasped and governed […]...
23. Song Inviting the influence of a young lady upon the opening year You wear the morning like your dress And are with mastery crown’d; When as you walk your loveliness Goes shining all around: Upon your secret, smiling way Such new contents were found, The Dancing Loves made holiday On that delightful ground. Then summon April […]...
24. An old life Snow fell in the night. At five-fifteen I woke to a bluish Mounded softness where The Honda was. Cat fed and coffee made, I broomed snow off the car And drove to the Kearsarge Mini-Mart Before Amy opened To yank my Globe out of the bundle. Back, I set my cup of coffee Beside Jane, […]...
25. The House They are building a house Half a block down And I sit up here With the shades down Listening to the sounds, The hammers pounding in nails, Thack thack thack thack, And then I hear birds, And thack thack thack, And I go to bed, I pull the covers to my throat; They have been […]...
26. A Historical Breakfast A man is bringing a cup of coffee to his face, Tilting it to his mouth. It’s historical, he thinks. He scratches his head: another historical event. He really ought to rest, he’s making an awful lot of History this morning. Oh my, now he’s buttering toast, another piece of History is being made. He […]...
27. Tract I will teach you my townspeople How to perform a funeral For you have it over a troop Of artists- Unless one should scour the world- You have the ground sense necessary. See! the hearse leads. I begin with a design for a hearse. For Christ’s sake not black- Nor white either – and not […]...
28. Agapanthus – african lily [from agape (love); anthus (flower)] You may not be willing to notice me I have an awkward sense of myself My name can be hard on the tongue I do not grow easily in places Where the sun only fitfully appears I’ve come a long way northwards Gardens do not flatter my needs I am […]...
29. Eleventh Hour The bloom was off the economic recovery. “I just want to know one thing,” she said. What was that one thing? He’ll never know, Because at just that moment he heard the sound Of broken glass in the bathroom, and when he got there, It was dark. His hand went to the wall But the […]...
30. Told The air lay soffly on the green fur Of the almond, it was April And I said, I begin again But my hands burned in the damp earth The light ran between my fingers A black light like no other This was not home, the linnet Settling on the oleander The green pod swelling The […]...
31. Are You Drinking? washed-up, on shore, the old yellow notebook out again I write from the bed as I did last year. will see the doctor, Monday. “yes, doctor, weak legs, vertigo, head- aches and my back hurts.” “are you drinking?” he will ask. “are you getting your Exercise, your vitamins?” I think that I am just ill […]...
32. Willie Metcalf I was Willie Metcalf. They used to call me “Doctor Meyers” Because, they said, I looked like him. And he was my father, according to Jack McGuire. I lived in the livery stable, Sleeping on the floor Side by side with Roger Baughman’s bulldog, Or sometimes in a stall. I could crawl between the legs […]...
33. The Alfresco Moment A butler asks, will Madam be having her morning coffee Alfresco? If you would be so good as to lift me out of my bed to The veranda I would be more than willing to imbibe coffee Alfresco. Shall I ask the Master to join you for coffee alfresco, Madam? But my nightgown’s so sheer […]...
34. Ne Sit Ancillae Tibi Amor Pudor THERE’S just a twinkle in your eye That seems to say I MIGHT, if I Were only bold enough to try An arm about your waist. I hear, too, as you come and go, That pretty nervous laugh, you know; And then your cap is always so Coquettishly displaced. Your cap! the word’s profanely said. […]...
35. In The Same Space The surroundings of home, centers, neighorhood Which I see and where I walk; for years and years. I have created you in joy and in sorrows: With so many circumstances, with so many things. And you have become all feeling, for me....
36. The Room Of My Life Here, In the room of my life The objects keep changing. Ashtrays to cry into, The suffering brother of the wood walls, The forty-eight keys of the typewriter Each an eyeball that is never shut, The books, each a contestant in a beauty contest, The black chair, a dog coffin made of Naugahyde, The sockets […]...
37. Kaspar Is Dead alas our good kaspar is dead. Who will bury a burning flag in the wings of the clouds who will pull Black wool over our eyes day by day. Who will turn the coffee mills in the primal barrel. Who will lure the idyllic roe from his petrified paperbag. Who will sneeze oceanliners unbrellas windudders […]...
38. Show Biz I can’t have it And you can’t have it And we won’t Get it So don’t bet on it Or even think about It Just get out of bed Each morning Wash Shave Clothe Yourself And go out into It Because Outside of that All that’s left is Suicide and Madness So you just Can’t […]...
39. Spartan Mother My mother loved her horses and Her hounds of pedigree; She did not kiss the baby hand I held to her in glee. Of course I had a sweet nou-nou Who tended me with care, And mother reined her nag to view Me with a critic air. So I went to a famous school, But […]...
40. An Electric Sign Goes Dark POLAND, France, Judea ran in her veins, Singing to Paris for bread, singing to Gotham in a fizz at the pop of a bottle’s cork. ВЂњWon’t you come and play wiz me” she sang … and “I just can’t make my eyes behave. ” ВЂњHiggeldy-Piggeldy, ” “Papa’s Wife, ” “Follow Me” were plays. Did she […]...