December 7

Related poetry:

1. December, 1919 Last night I heard your voice, mother, The words you sang to me When I, a little barefoot boy, Knelt down against your knee. And tears gushed from my heart, mother, And passed beyond its wall, But though the fountain reached my throat The drops refused to fall. ‘Tis ten years since you died, mother, […]...
2. Vienna, December 1999 I watched The winter light die from the bridge, The sky a sinking empire’s battleship, Ice floes’ jagged edges Clink their cold toast To a stilled Danube. Johann Strauss Would have committed Himself to Wagnerian depression On a night just like this; Streetlights sputter Matchstick desperation Relinquishing desperate light, Shadow-glaciers crawl The alleys in deafness: […]...
3. Daft icarus it began as a secret desire (an itch In the marrow too vague to get through To the bone) an idea that never could Make it as flesh – there wasn’t a part of me Sane i could tell that would have spared It a breath to get started so i slept One midday i […]...
4. December 25 Christmas defeated Chanukah Once again last night By a margin of three billion dollars Or so, but every time I hear A Yiddish word like bupkes In a movie (L. A. Confidential) Or when Oleg Cassini in that new play Jackie Calls a garment a shmatta, it’s “good For the Jews,” as our parents used […]...
5. Landscape With The Fall Of Icarus According to Brueghel When Icarus fell It was spring A farmer was ploughing His field The whole pageantry Of the year was Awake tingling Near The edge of the sea Concerned With itself Sweating in the sun That melted The wings’ wax Unsignificantly Off the coast There was A splash quite unnoticed This was Icarus […]...
6. A London Thoroughfare. 2 A. M They have watered the street, It shines in the glare of lamps, Cold, white lamps, And lies Like a slow-moving river, Barred with silver and black. Cabs go down it, One, And then another. Between them I hear the shuffling of feet. Tramps doze on the window-ledges, Night-walkers pass along the sidewalks. The city is […]...
7. Sicily, December 1908 O garden isle, beloved by Sun and Sea, Whose bluest billows kiss thy curving bays, Whose amorous light enfolds thee in warm rays That fill with fruit each dark-leaved orange-tree, What hidden hatred hath the Earth for thee? Behold, again, in these dark, dreadful days, She trembles with her wrath, and swiftly lays Thy beauty […]...
8. The Painter on Silk There was a man Who made his living By painting roses Upon silk. He sat in an upper chamber And painted, And the noises of the street Meant nothing to him. When he heard bugles, and fifes, and drums, He thought of red, and yellow, and white roses Bursting in the sunshine, And smiled as […]...
9. The House Of Dust: Part 01: 02: One, from his high bright window in a tower One, from his high bright window in a tower, Leans out, as evening falls, And sees the advancing curtain of the shower Splashing its silver on roofs and walls: Sees how, swift as a shadow, it crosses the city, And murmurs beyond far walls to the sea, Leaving a glimmer of water in the dark […]...
10. They Did Not Expect This They did not expect this. Being neither wise nor brave And wearing only the beauty of youth’s season They took the first turning quite unquestioningly And walked quickly without looking back even once. It was of course the wrong turning. First they were nagged By a small wind that tugged at their clothing like a […]...
11. Would You Believe It? One year ago I wished that I A banker great might be With a hundred million dollars And financial majesty; A mighty Wall Street banker With a whopping lot of power And an income of somewhere around A thousand plunks per hour; A solid Wall Street banker With securities in sacks And with clever men […]...
12. To A Friend Whose Work Has Come To Triumph Consider Icarus, pasting those sticky wintgs on, Testing that strange little tug at his shoulder blade, And think of that first flawless moment over the lawn Of the labyrinth. Think of the difference it made! There below are the trees, as awkward as camels; And here are the shocked starlings pumping past And think of […]...
13. December 14 This bed thy center is, these walls, thy sphere, The tarnished, gaudy, wonderful old work Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow, That never touch with inarticulate pang Those dying generations-at their song. The One remains, the many change and pass The expiring swan, and as he sings he dies. The earth, […]...
14. Faces In The Street They lie, the men who tell us for reasons of their own That want is here a stranger, and that misery’s unknown; For where the nearest suburb and the city proper meet My window-sill is level with the faces in the street Drifting past, drifting past, To the beat of weary feet While I sorrow […]...
15. A Radio With Guts it was on the 2nd floor on Coronado Street I used to get drunk And throw the radio through the window While it was playing, and, of course, It would break the glass in the window And the radio would sit there on the roof Still playing And I’d tell my woman, “Ah, what a […]...
16. Study In Orange And White I knew that James Whistler was part of the Paris scene, But I was still surprised when I found the painting Of his mother at the Musée d’Orsay Among all the colored dots and mobile brushstrokes Of the French Impressionists. And I was surprised to notice After a few minutes of benign staring, How that […]...
17. America, America! I am a poet of the Hudson River and the heights above it, the lights, the stars, and the bridges I am also by self-appointment the laureate of the Atlantic – of the peoples’ hearts, crossing it to new America. I am burdened with the truck and chimera, hope, acquired in the sweating sick-excited passage […]...
18. In The Naked Bed, In Plato's Cave In the naked bed, in Plato’s cave, Reflected headlights slowly slid the wall, Carpenters hammered under the shaded window, Wind troubled the window curtains all night long, A fleet of trucks strained uphill, grinding, Their freights covered, as usual. The ceiling lightened again, the slanting diagram Slid slowly forth. Hearing the milkman’s clop, His striving […]...
19. THE LAST TIME EVER 1 am peering through blackness 2 am i feel your heart pounding 3 am your fingers running up my spine 4 am my beard between your breasts 5 am sun rising over the pyramid 6 am ordering coffee and toast 7 am showering together 8 am locking both suitcases 9 am spreading marmalade on bacon […]...
20. January 2 The old war is over the new one has begun Between drivers and pedestrians on a Friday In New York light is the variable and structure The content according to Rodrigo Moynihan’s Self-portraits at the Robert Miller Gallery where The painter is serially pictured holding a canvas, Painting his mirror image, shirtless in summer, With […]...
21. December 30 At 1:30 in the morning a fart Smells like a marriage between An avocado and a fish head. I have to get out of bed To write this down without My glasses on....
22. The House Of Dust: Part 02: 11: Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares With purple lights in the canyoned street. The fiery sign on the dark tower wreathes and flares. . . The trodden grass in the park is covered with white, The streets grow silent beneath our feet. . . The city dreams, it forgets its past to-night. […]...
23. Cumulatives STORMS have beaten on this point of land And ships gone to wreck here And the passers-by remember it With talk on the deck at night As they near it. Fists have beaten on the face of this old prize-fighter And his battles have held the sporting pages And on the street they indicate him […]...
24. A Minute She plucked a blossom fair to see; Upon my coat I let her pin it; And thus we stood beneath the tree A minute. She turned her smiling face to me; I saw a roguish sweetness in it; I kissed her once;-it took, maybe, A minute. The time was paltry, you’ll agree; It took but […]...
25. MID-DECEMBER A full moon shines Over the morning frost; The lanes are full of late-fallen leaves; Walking across the mulch Is almost as tricky As treading over ice. In town the carol-singers are in Crowding the shopping-mall, While a group of muffled musicians Play by the outside market. This year but two robins On the early […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. A Calendar of Sonnets: December The lakes of ice gleam bluer than the lakes Of water ‘neath the summer sunshine gleamed: Far fairer than when placidly it streamed, The brook its frozen architecture makes, And under bridges white its swift way takes. Snow comes and goes as messenger who dreamed Might linger on the road; or one who deemed His […]...
28. Main Street (For S. M. L.) I like to look at the blossomy track of the moon upon the sea, But it isn’t half so fine a sight as Main Street used to be When it all was covered over with a couple of feet of snow, And over the crisp and radiant road the ringing sleighs […]...
29. December Night The cold slope is standing in darkness But the south of the trees is dry to the touch The heavy limbs climb into the moonlight bearing feathers I came to watch these White plants older at night The oldest Come first to the ruins And I hear magpies kept awake by the moon The water […]...
30. Ode Written On The First Of December Tho’ now no more the musing ear Delights to listen to the breeze That lingers o’er the green wood shade, I love thee Winter! well. Sweet are the harmonies of Spring, Sweet is the summer’s evening gale, Pleasant the autumnal winds that shake The many-colour’d grove. And pleasant to the sober’d soul The silence of […]...
31. In Drear-Nighted December In drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne’er remember Their green felicity: The north cannot undo them With a sleety whistle through them; Nor frozen thawings glue them From budding at the prime. In drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy brook, Thy bubblings ne’er remember Apollo’s summer look; But with a sweet forgetting, They […]...
32. December At Yase You said, that October, In the tall dry grass by the orchard When you chose to be free, “Again someday, maybe ten years.” After college I saw you One time. You were strange, And I was obsessed with a plan. Now ten years and more have Gone by: I’ve always known where you were- I […]...
33. For the naming of tara december 4th 2005 for the naming of tara This bowl of joy That her fruits of earth She’ll well employ For the naming of tara This bunch of flowers That she bloom brightly Through her natural powers For tbe naming of tara This poem’s desire That (in a full life) She may kindly aspire For the naming of […]...
34. 201. Birthday Ode for 31st December, 1787 AFAR 1 the illustrious Exile roams, Whom kingdoms on this day should hail; An inmate in the casual shed, On transient pity’s bounty fed, Haunted by busy memory’s bitter tale! Beasts of the forest have their savage homes, But He, who should imperial purple wear, Owns not the lap of earth where rests his royal […]...
35. 362. Song-Thou Gloomy December ANCE mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December! Ance mair I hail thee wi’ sorrow and care; Sad was the parting thou makes me remember- Parting wi’ Nancy, oh, ne’er to meet mair! Fond lovers’ parting is sweet, painful pleasure, Hope beaming mild on the soft parting hour; But the dire feeling, O farewell for […]...
36. The difference between Despair The difference between Despair And Fear is like the One Between the instant of a Wreck And when the Wreck has been The Mind is smooth no Motion Contented as the Eye Upon the Forehead of a Bust That knows it cannot see...
37. Fourth Floor, Dawn, Up All Night Writing Letters Pigeons shake their wings on the copper church roof Out my window across the street, a bird perched on the cross Surveys the city’s blue-grey clouds. Larry Rivers ‘ll come at 10 AM and take my picture. I’m taking Your picture, pigeons. I’m writing you down, Dawn. I’m immortalizing your exhaust, Avenue A bus. O […]...
38. Trinity Place THE GRAVE of Alexander Hamilton is in Trinity yard at the end of Wall Street. The grave of Robert Fulton likewise is in Trinity yard where Wall Street stops. And in this yard stenogs, bundle boys, scrubwomen, sit on the tombstones, and walk on the grass of graves, speaking of war and weather, of babies, […]...
39. My Home This is the place that I love the best, A little brown house, like a ground-bird’s nest, Hid among grasses, and vines, and trees, Summer retreat of the birds and bees. The tenderest light that ever was seen Sifts through the vine-made window screen Sifts and quivers, and flits and falls On home-made carpets and […]...
40. The Dove of Dacca 1892 The freed dove flew to the Rajah’s tower Fled from the slaughter of Moslem kings And the thorns have covered the city of Guar. Dove dove oh, homing dove! Little white traitor, with woe on thy wings! The Rajah of Dacca rode under the wall; He set in his bosom a dove of flight […]...