Wherein Obscurely

Related poetry:

1. 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 […]...
2. The Protest I say ‘e isn’t Remorse! ‘Ow do I know? Saw ‘im on Riccarton course Two year ago! Think I’d forget any ‘orse? Course ‘e’s The Crow! Bumper Maginnis and I After a “go”, Walkin’ our ‘orses to dry, I says “Hello! What’s that old black goin’ by?” Bumper says “Oh! That’s an old cuddy of […]...
3. Two Old Crows Two old crows sat on a fence rail. Two old crows sat on a fence rail, Thinking of effect and cause, Of weeds and flowers, And nature’s laws. One of them muttered, one of them stuttered, One of them stuttered, one of them muttered. Each of them thought far more than he uttered. One crow […]...
4. Jonathan Houghton There is the caw of a crow, And the hesitant song of a thrush. There is the tinkle of a cowbell far away, And the voice of a plowman on Shipley’s hill. The forest beyond the orchard is still With midsummer stillness; And along the road a wagon chuckles, Loaded with corn, going to Atterbury. […]...
5. No Man can compass a Despair No Man can compass a Despair As round a Goalless Road No faster than a Mile at once The Traveller proceed Unconscious of the Width Unconscious that the Sun Be setting on His progress So accurate the One At estimating Pain Whose own has just begun His ignorance the Angel That pilot Him along...
6. The Remains I empty myself of the names of others. I empty my pockets. I empty my shoes and leave them beside the road. At night I turn back the clocks; I open the family album and look at myself as a boy. What good does it do? The hours have done their job. I say my […]...
7. 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 […]...
8. Twilight Song Through the shine, through the rain We have shared the day’s load; To the old march again We have tramped the long road; We have laughed, we have cried, And we’ve tossed the King’s crown; We have fought, we have died, And we’ve trod the day down. So it’s lift the old song Ere the […]...
9. Death Death is a road our dearest friends have gone; Why with such leaders, fear to say, “Lead on?” Its gate repels, lest it too soon be tried, But turns in balm on the immortal side. Mothers have passed it: fathers, children; men Whose like we look not to behold again; Women that smiled away their […]...
10. The house where I was born (04) Another time. It was still night. Water slid Silently on the black ground, And I knew that my only task would be To remember, and I laughed, I bent down, I took from the mud A pile of branches and leaves, I lifted up the whole dripping mass In arms I held close to my […]...
11. Sonnet 70: That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair; The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air. So thou be good, slander doth but approve Thy worth the greater being wooed of time, For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love, […]...
12. The Road That Runs Beside The River follows the river as it bends Along the valley floor, Going the way it must. Where water goes, so goes the road, If there’s room (not in a ravine, Gorge), the river On your right or left. Left is better: when you’re driving, It’s over your elbow across The road. You see the current, which […]...
13. Thinking Ahead To Possible Options And A Worst-Case Scenario I swerved to avoid hitting a squirrel In the center of the road and that’s when The deer came charging out of the forest And forced me to hit the brakes for all I Was worth and I careened back to the other Side of the road just as a skunk came toddling Out of […]...
14. Sonnet 38 – First time he kissed me, he but only kissed First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And ever since, it grew more clean and white, Slow to world-greetings, quick with its ‘Oh, list,’ When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst I could not wear here, plainer to my sight, Than that first kiss. […]...
15. Fugue You see them vanish in their speeding cars, The many people hastening through the world, And wonder what they would have done before This time of time speed distance, random streams Of molecules hastened by what rising heat? Was there never a world where people just sat still? Yet they might be all of them […]...
16. 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 […]...
17. CROW AND AUDEN A misprint in a newspaper reported: ‘Auden stepped from the train and was greeted by a small but enthusiastic crow.’ ‘Hmm,’ Auden thought when first he saw The bird, as train came to a stop, ‘I’ll make this image mine before Some Yorkshire upstart snaps it up.’ He drew a notebook from his mac’, Unclipped […]...
18. Lament for Boromir Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows, The West Wind comes walking, and about the walls it goes. ‘What news from the West, O wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight? Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight?’ ‘I saw him ride over seven streams, over […]...
19. Iambicum Trimetrum Unhappy verse, the witness of my unhappy state, Make thy self flutt’ring wings of thy fast flying Thought, and fly forth unto my love, wheresoever she be: Whether lying restless in heavy bed, or else Sitting so cheerless at the cheerful board, or else Playing alone careless on her heavenly virginals. If in bed, tell […]...
20. Some Like Poetry Write it. Write. In ordinary ink On ordinary paper: they were given no food, They all died of hunger. “All. How many? It’s a big meadow. How much grass For each one?” Write: I don’t know. History counts its skeletons in round numbers. A thousand and one remains a thousand, As though the one had […]...
21. 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 […]...
22. Killing The Love I am the love killer, I am murdering the music we thought so special, That blazed between us, over and over. I am murdering me, where I kneeled at your kiss. I am pushing knives through the hands That created two into one. Our hands do not bleed at this, They lie still in their […]...
23. The End of the World Here, at the end of the world, The flowers bleed As if they were hearts, The hearts ooze a darkness Like india ink, & poets dip their pens in & they write. “Here, at the end of the world,” They write, Not knowing what it means. “Here, where the sky nurses on black milk, Where […]...
24. Jinzhu Ridge Wingceltis goldenrain shine empty bend Fresh and green ripple ripples ripples Secret enter Shang hill road Woodcutter not able know Wingceltis and goldenrain shine at the empty bend, Fresh and green, rippling ever onward. A secret road leads up to Shangshan hill, Even the woodcutter does not know....
25. Crow's Nerve Fails Crow, feeling his brain slip, Finds his every feather the fossil of a murder. Who murdered all these? These living dead, that root in his nerves and his blood Till he is visibly black? How can he fly from his feathers? And why have they homed on him? Is he the archive of their accusations? […]...
26. Dawning There are hours when every thing creaks When chairs stretch their arms, tables their legs And closets crack their backs, incautiously Fed up with the polite fantasy Of having to stay in one place And stick to their stations Humans too, at work, or in love Know such aches and growing pains When inner furnishings […]...
27. 'Twas the old road through pain ‘Twas the old road through pain That unfrequented one With many a turn and thorn That stops at Heaven This was the Town she passed There where she rested last Then stepped more fast The little tracks close prest Then not so swift Slow slow as feet did weary grow Then stopped no other track! […]...
28. Why the Jackass Laughs The Boastful Crow and the Laughing Jack Were telling tales of the outer back: “I’ve just been travelling far and wide, At the back of Bourke and the Queensland side; There isn’t a bird in the bush can go As far as me,” said the old black crow. “There isn’t a bird in the bush […]...
29. The Rolling English Road Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode, The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road. A reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire, And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire; A merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread The […]...
30. Father My father knows the proper way The nation should be run; He tells us children every day Just what should now be done. He knows the way to fix the trusts, He has a simple plan; But if the furnace needs repairs, We have to hire a man. My father, in a day or two […]...
31. Ralph to Mary Love, you have led me to the strand, Here, where the stilly, sunset sea, Ever receding silently, Lays bare a shining stretch of sand; Which, as we tread, in waving line, Sinks softly ‘neath our moving feet; And looking down our glances meet, Two mirrored figures yours and mine. To-night you found me sad, alone, […]...
32. Roadways ONE road leads to London, One road leads to Wales, My road leads me seawards To the white dipping sails. One road leads to the river, And it goes singing slow; My road leads to shipping, Where the bronzed sailors go. Leads me, lures me, calls me To salt green tossing sea; A road without […]...
33. The ride to bumpville Play that my knee was a calico mare Saddled and bridled for Bumpville; Leap to the back of this steed, if you dare, And gallop away to Bumpville! I hope you’ll be sure to sit fast in your seat, For this calico mare is prodigiously fleet, And many adventures you’re likely to meet As you […]...
34. Before The Paling Of The Stars Before the winter morn, Before the earliest cock crow, Jesus Christ was born: Born in a stable, Cradled in a manger, In the world his hands had made Born a stranger. Priest and king lay fast asleep In Jerusalem; Young and old lay fast asleep In crowded Bethlehem; Saint and angel, ox and ass, Kept […]...
35. Evening Love Song Ornamental clouds Compose an evening love song; A road leaves evasively. The new moon begins A new chapter of our nights, Of those frail nights We stretch out and which mingle With these black horizontals....
36. 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 […]...
37. At Bessemer 19 years old and going nowhere, I got a ride to Bessemer and walked The night road toward Birmingham Passing dark groups of men cursing The end of a week like every week. Out of town I found a small grove Of trees, high narrow pines, and I Sat back against the trunk of one […]...
38. NOVEMBER SONG To the great archer not to him To meet whom flies the sun, And who is wont his features dim With clouds to overrun But to the boy be vow’d these rhymes, Who ‘mongst the roses plays, Who hear us, and at proper times To pierce fair hearts essays. Through him the gloomy winter night, […]...
39. Noon I bend to the ground To catch Something whispered, Urgent, drifting Across the ditches. The heaviness of Flies stuttering In orbit, dirt Ripening, the sweat Of eggs. There are Small streams The width ofa thumb Running in the villages Of sheaves, whole Eras of grain Wakening on The stalks, a roof That breathes over My […]...
40. Through lane it lay through bramble Through lane it lay through bramble Through clearing and through wood Banditti often passed us Upon the lonely road. The wolf came peering curious The owl looked puzzled down The serpent’s satin figure Glid stealthily along The tempests touched our garments The lightning’s poinards gleamed Fierce from the Crag above us The hungry Vulture screamed […]...