Alfonso, Dressing to Wait at Table

Related poetry:

1. Wait Wait, for now. Distrust everything, if you have to. But trust the hours. Haven’t they Carried you everywhere, up to now? Personal events will become interesting again. Hair will become interesting. Pain will become interesting. Buds that open out of season will become lovely again. Second-hand gloves will become lovely again, Their memories are what […]...
2. I Wait For You I wait for you. The years in silence pass And as the image, one, I wait for you again. The distance is in flame and clear one as glass, I, silent, wait with sadness, love and pain. The distance is in flame, and you are coming fast, But I’m afraid that you will change your […]...
3. Alfonso Churchill They laughed at me as “Prof. Moon,” As a boy in Spoon River, born with the thirst Of knowing about the stars. They jeered when I spoke of the lunar mountains, And the thrilling heat and cold, And the ebon valleys by silver peaks, And Spica quadrillions of miles away, And the littleness of man. […]...
4. 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 […]...
5. The Bell I love thy music, mellow bell, I love thine iron chime, To life or death, to heaven or hell, Which calls the sons of Time. Thy voice upon the deep The home-bound sea-boy hails, It charms his cares to sleep, It cheers him as he sails. To house of God and heavenly joys Thy summons […]...
6. Ancestors Behold these jewelled, merchant Ancestors, Foregathered in some chancellery of death; Calm, provident, discreet, they stroke their beards And move their faces slowly in the gloom, And barter monstrous wealth with speech subdued, Lustreless eyes and acquiescent lids. And oft in pauses of their conference, They listen to the measured breath of night’s Hushed sweep […]...
7. I am the autumnal sun Sometimes a mortal feels in himself Nature not his Father but his Mother stirs Within him, and he becomes immortal with her Immortality. From time to time she claims Kindredship with us, and some globule From her veins steals up into our own. I am the autumnal sun, With autumn gales my race is run; […]...
8. The Ad-Dressing Of Cats You’ve read of several kinds of Cat, And my opinion now is that You should need no interpreter To understand their character. You now have learned enough to see That Cats are much like you and me And other people whom we find Possessed of various types of mind. For some are same and some […]...
9. The Washing and Dressing Ah! why will my dear little girl be so cross, And cry, and look sulky, and pout? To lose her sweet smile is a terrible loss, I can’t even kiss her without. You say you don’t like to be wash’d and be dress’d, But would you not wish to be clean? Come, drive that long […]...
10. The Lady's Dressing Room Five hours, (and who can do it less in?) By haughty Celia spent in dressing; The goddess from her chamber issues, Arrayed in lace, brocades, and tissues. Strephon, who found the room was void And Betty otherwise employed, Stole in and took a strict survey Of all the litter as it lay; Whereof, to make […]...
11. Heritage Now the dead past seems vividly alive, And in this shining moment I can trace, Down through the vista of the vanished years, Your faun-like form, your fond elusive face. And suddenly some secret spring’s released, And unawares a riddle is revealed, And I can read like large, black-lettered print, What seemed before a thing […]...
12. L'envoy Now in a thought, now in a shadowed word, Now in a voice that thrills eternity, Ever there comes an onward phrase to me Of some transcendent music I have heard; No piteous thing by soft hands dulcimered, No trumpet crash of blood-sick victory, But a glad strain of some vast harmony That no brief […]...
13. The Wait It is life in slow motion, It’s the heart in reverse, It’s a hope-and-a-half: Too much and too little at once. It’s a train that suddenly Stops with no station around, And we can hear the cricket, And, leaning out the carriage Door, we vainly contemplate A wind we feel that stirs The blooming meadows, […]...
14. While yet we wait for spring, and from the dry While yet we wait for spring, and from the dry And blackening east that so embitters March, Well-housed must watch grey fields and meadows parch, And driven dust and withering snowflake fly; Already in glimpses of the tarnish’d sky The sun is warm and beckons to the larch, And where the covert hazels interarch Their […]...
15. What if I say I shall not wait! What if I say I shall not wait! What if I burst the fleshly Gate And pass escaped to thee! What if I file this Mortal off See where it hurt me That’s enough And wade in Liberty! They cannot take me any more! Dungeons can call and Guns implore Unmeaning now to me As […]...
16. Welcome to the Table This is the feast of heavenly wine, And God invites to sup; The juices of the living Vine Were press’d to fill the cup. Oh! bless the Saviour, ye that eat, With royal dainties fed; Not heaven affords a costlier treat, For Jesus is the bread. The vile, the lost, He calls to them; Ye […]...
17. Wait till the Majesty of Death Wait till the Majesty of Death Invests so mean a brow! Almost a powdered Footman Might dare to touch it now! Wait till in Everlasting Robes That Democrat is dressed, Then prate about “Preferment” And “Station,” and the rest! Around this quiet Courtier Obsequious Angels wait! Full royal is his Retinue! Full purple is his […]...
18. How sick to wait in any place but thine How sick to wait in any place but thine I knew last night when someone tried to twine Thinking perhaps that I looked tired or alone Or breaking almost with unspoken pain And I turned ducal That right was thine One port suffices for a Brig like mine Ours be the tossing wild though the […]...
19. The Planet On The Table Ariel was glad he had written his poems. They were of a remembered time Or of something seen that he liked. Other makings of the sun Were waste and welter And the ripe shrub writhed. His self and the sun were one And his poems, although makings of his self, Were no less makings of […]...
20. THE TABLE IN A RESTAURANT Bhaskar Roy Barman The moment I close my eyes In meditation on the unfathomable I visualize golden fleeces of cloud Perambulating the skies And old faces peering down through the fleeces, Their faces writhed into a semblance of smile. With them I used to sit at a table in a restaurant By the window overlooking […]...
21. The Table And The Chair Said the table to the chair, “You can scarcely be aware How I suffer from the heat And from blisters on my feet! If we took a little walk We might have a little talk. Pray, let us take the air!” Said the table to the chair. Said the chair unto the table, “Now you […]...
22. Je Suis une table It has happened suddenly, By surprise, in an arbor, Or while drinking good coffee, After speaking, or before, That I dumbly inhabit A density; in language, There is nothing to stop it, For nothing retains an edge. Simple ignorance presents, Later, words for a function, But it is common pretense Of speech, by a convention, […]...
23. My Dreams, My Works, Must Wait Till After Hell I hold my honey and I store my bread In little jars and cabinets of my will. I label clearly, and each latch and lid I bid, Be firm till I return from hell. I am very hungry. I am incomplete. And none can give me any word but Wait, The puny light. I keep […]...
24. The Times Table More than halfway up the pass Was a spring with a broken drinking glass, And whether the farmer drank or not His mare was sure to observe the spot By cramping the wheel on a water-bar, Turning her forehead with a star, And straining her ribs for a monster sigh; To which the farmer would […]...
25. Honey At The Table It fills you with the soft Essence of vanished flowers, it becomes A trickle sharp as a hair that you follow From the honey pot over the table And out the door and over the ground, And all the while it thickens, Grows deeper and wilder, edged With pine boughs and wet boulders, Pawprints of […]...
26. OPEN TABLE MANY a guest I’d see to-day, Met to taste my dishes! Food in plenty is prepar’d, Birds, and game, and fishes. Invitations all have had, All proposed attending. Johnny, go and look around! Are they hither wending? Pretty girls I hope to see, Dear and guileless misses, Ignorant how sweet it is Giving tender kisses. […]...
27. TABLE SONG [Composed for the merry party already mentioned, On the occasion of the departure for France of the hereditary prince, Who was one of the number, and who is especially alluded to in the 3rd verse.] O’ER me how I cannot say, Heav’nly rapture’s growing. Will it help to guide my way To yon stars all-glowing? […]...
28. Dream Song 96: Under the table, no. That last was stunning Under the table, no. That last was stunning, That flagon had breasts. Some men grow down cursed. Why drink so, two days running? Two months, O seasons, years, two decades running? I answer (smiles) my question on the cuff: Man, I been thirsty. The brake is incomplete but white costumes Threaten his rum, his cointreau, […]...
29. 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 […]...
30. A Waltz-Quadrille The band was playing a waltz-quadrille, I felt as light as a wind-blown feather, As we floated away, at the caller’s will, Through the intricate, mazy dance together. Like mimic armies our lines were meeting, Slowly advancing, and then retreating, All decked in their bright array; And back and forth to the music’s rhyme We […]...
31. On King Arthur’s Round Table at Winchester Where Venta’s Norman castle still uprears Its rafter’d hall, that o’er the grassy foss, And scatter’d flinty fragments clad in moss, On yonder steep in naked state appears; High hung remains, the pride of war-like years, Old Arthur’s board: on the capacious round Some British pen has sketch’d the names renown’d, In marks obscure, of […]...
32. Of Being is a Bird Of Being is a Bird The likest to the Down An Easy Breeze do put afloat The General Heavens upon It soars and shifts and whirls And measures with the Clouds In easy even dazzling pace No different the Birds Except a Wake of Music Accompany their feet As did the Down emit a Tune […]...
33. To O. E. A Your voice is the color of a robin’s breast, And there’s a sweet sob in it like rain still rain in the night. Among the leaves of the trumpet-tree, close to his nest, The pea-dove sings, and each note thrills me with strange delight Like the words, wet with music, that well from your trembling […]...
34. Morning O’ER fallow plains and fertile meads, AURORA lifts the torch of day; The shad’wy brow of Night recedes, Cold dew-drops fall from every spray; Now o’er the thistle’s rugged head, Thin veils of filmy vapour fly, On ev’ry violet’s perfum’d bed The sparkling gems of Nature lie. The hill’s tall brow is crown’d with gold, […]...
35. If Thou'lt Be Mine If thou’lt be mine, the treasures of air, Of earth, and sea, shall lie at thy feet; Whatever in Fancy’s eye looks fair, Or in Hope’s sweet music sounds most sweet, Shall be ours if thou wilt be mine, love! Bright flowers shall bloom wherever we rove, A voice divine shall talk in each stream; […]...
36. TO WILLIAM E. CHANNING The pages of thy book I read, And as I closed each one, My heart, responding, ever said, “Servant of God! well done!” Well done! Thy words are great and bold; At times they seem to me, Like Luther’s, in the days of old, Half-battles for the free. Go on, until this land revokes The […]...
37. Careers Father is quite the greatest poet That ever lived anywhere. You say you’re going to write great music – I chose that first: it’s unfair. Besides, now I can’t be the greatest painter and do Christ and angels, or lovely pears and apples and grapes on a green dish, or storms at sea, or anything […]...
38. Had I Wist Had I wist, when life was like a warm wind playing Light and loud through sundawn and the dew’s bright trust, How the time should come for hearts to sigh in saying ‘Had I wist’ – Surely not the roses, laughing as they kissed, Not the lovelier laugh of seas in sunshine swaying, Should have […]...
39. To the Nightingale Sister of love-lorn Poets, Philomel! How many Bards in city garret pent, While at their window they with downward eye Mark the faint lamp-beam on the kennell’d mud, And listen to the drowsy cry of Watchmen (Those hoarse unfeather’d Nightingales of Time!), How many wretched Bards address thy name, And hers, the full-orb’d Queen that […]...
40. The Opening of the Piano IN the little southern parlor of tbe house you may have seen With the gambrel-roof, and the gable looking westward to the green, At the side toward the sunset, with the window on its right, Stood the London-made piano I am dreaming of to-night! Ah me! how I remember the evening when it came! What […]...