February 23

Related poetry:

1. Third Avenue In Sunlight Third Avenue in sunlight. Nature’s error. Already the bars are filled and John is there. Beneath a plentiful lady over the mirror He tilts his glass in the mild mahogany air. I think of him when he first got out of college, Serious, thin, unlikely to succeed; For several months he hung around the Village, […]...
2. February: Thinking of Flowers Now wind torments the field, Turning the white surface back On itself, back and back on itself, Like an animal licking a wound. Nothing but white the air, the light; Only one brown milkweed pod Bobbing in the gully, smallest Brown boat on the immense tide. A single green sprouting thing Would restore me. . […]...
3. The Rainwalkers An old man whose black face Shines golden-brown as wet pebbles Under the streetlamp, is walking two mongrel dogs of dis- Proportionate size, in the rain, In the relaxed early-evening avenue. The small sleek one wants to stop, Docile to the imploring soul of the trashbasket, But the young tall curly one Wants to walk […]...
4. In Memory of a Happy Day in February Blessed be Thou for all the joy My soul has felt today! O let its memory stay with me And never pass away! I was alone, for those I loved Were far away from me, The sun shone on the withered grass, The wind blew fresh and free. Was it the smile of early spring […]...
5. A Prayer On Going Into My House God grant a blessing on this tower and cottage And on my heirs, if all remain unspoiled, No table or chair or stool not simple enough For shepherd lads in Galilee; and grant That I myself for portions of the year May handle nothing and set eyes on nothing But what the great and passionate […]...
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. February Begin, my muse, the imitative lay, Aonian doxies sound the thrumming string; Attempt no number of the plaintive Gay, Let me like midnight cats, or Collins sing. If in the trammels of the doleful line The bounding hail, or drilling rain descend; Come, brooding Melancholy, pow’r divine, And ev’ry unform’d mass of words amend. Now […]...
8. Celestial Music I have a friend who still believes in heaven. Not a stupid person, yet with all she knows, she literally talks to God. She thinks someone listens in heaven. On earth she’s unusually competent. Brave too, able to face unpleasantness. We found a caterpillar dying in the dirt, greedy ants crawling over it. I’m always […]...
9. Myfanwy Kind o’er the kinderbank leans my Myfanwy, White o’er the playpen the sheen of her dress, Fresh from the bathroom and soft in the nursery Soap scented fingers I long to caress. Were you a prefect and head of your dormit’ry? Were you a hockey girl, tennis or gym? Who was your favourite? Who had […]...
10. February: The Boy Breughel The birches stand in their beggar’s row: Each poor tree Has had its wrists nearly Torn from the clear sleeves of bone, These icy trees Are hanging by their thumbs Under a sun That will begin to heal them soon, Each will climb out Of its own blue, oval mouth; The river groans, Two birds […]...
11. 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. […]...
12. A Calendar of Sonnets: February Still lie the sheltering snows, undimmed and white; And reigns the winter’s pregnant silence still; No sign of spring, save that the catkins fill, And willow stems grow daily red and bright. These are days when ancients held a rite Of expiation for the old year’s ill, And prayer to purify the new year’s will: […]...
13. The bow-leg boy Who should come up the road one day But the doctor-man in his two-wheel shay! And he whoaed his horse and he cried “Ahoy! I have brought you folks a bow-leg boy! Such a cute little boy! Such a funny little boy! Such a dear little bow-leg boy!” He took out his box and he […]...
14. Paragraphs from a Day-Book Cherry-ripe: dark sweet burlats, scarlet reverchons Firm-fleshed and tart in the mouth Bigarreaux, peach-and-white napoléons As the harvest moves north From Provence to the banks of the Yonne (they grow napoléons in Washington State now). Before that, garriguettes, From Périgord, in wooden punnets Afterwards, peaches: yellow-fleshed, white, Moss-skinned ruby pêches de vigne. The vendors cry […]...
15. Images of snow – february 1996 snow is a thousand flowers The chinese probably said Hundreds and thousands this morning Drop their garlands on my head Last night the festoons started Long before we went to bed Snow is a white-furred rabbit The chinese probably wrote Hedgerows and fields this morning Wear a similar fluffy coat Last night the winter danced […]...
16. Mount Zhongnan Its massive height near the City of Heaven Joins a thousand mountains to the corner of the sea. Clouds, when I look back, close behind me, Mists, when I enter them, are gone. A central peak divides the wilds And weather into many valleys. …Needing a place to spend the night, I call to a […]...
17. December 7 As I sit at my desk wishing I did not have to edit a book On poetry and painting a Subject that fascinates me Usually, but today is not as Usual, being today, white sky, Decent amount of sunlight, Forty one degrees in Central Park, And it makes sense to dream of Chicago, another big […]...
18. Giorno dei Morti Along the avenue of cypresses, All in their scarlet cloaks and surplices Of linen, go the chanting choristers, The priests in gold and black, the villagers. . . And all along the path to the cemetery The round dark heads of men crowd silently, And black-scarved faces of womenfolk, wistfully Watch at the banner of […]...
19. Blues Those five or six young guys Lunched on the stoop That oven-hot summer night Whistled me over. Nice And friendly. So, I stop. MacDougal or Christopher Street in chains of light. A summer festival. Or some Saint’s. I wasn’t too far from Home, but not too bright For a nigger, and not too dark. I […]...
20. August 8th And do not be indiscreet or unconventional. Play it safe. Listen here. I’ve never played it safe In spite of what the critics say. Ask my imaginary brother, that waif, That childhood best friend who comes to play Dress-up and stick-up and jacks and Pick-Up-Sticks, Bike downtown, stick out tongues at the Catholics. Or form […]...
21. In the New Garden in all the Parts IN the new garden, in all the parts, In cities now, modern, I wander, Though the second or third result, or still further, primitive yet, Days, places, indifferent-though various, the same, Time, Paradise, the Mannahatta, the prairies, finding me unchanged, Death indifferent-Is it that I lived long since? Was I buried very long ago? For […]...
22. A MEETING WITH THE PRINCESS Just a family get-together in a terrace house in Bradford High tea with a few stuffy aunts I hadn’t seen for years Their husbands in tow like lost dogs sniffing round for food But she came all the same, ushered in politely as a friend Of a friend or somebody’s cousin twice removed though Everybody […]...
23. Recorders Ages Hence RECORDERS ages hence! Come, I will take you down underneath this impassive exterior-I will tell you what to say of me; Publish my name and hang up my picture as that of the tenderest lover, The friend, the lover’s portrait, of whom his friend, his lover, was fondest, Who was not proud of his songs, […]...
24. A Process In The Weather Of The Heart A process in the weather of the heart Turns damp to dry; the golden shot Storms in the freezing tomb. A weather in the quarter of the veins Turns night to day; blood in their suns Lights up the living worm. A process in the eye forwarns The bones of blindness; and the womb Drives […]...
25. Conversation Galante I OBSERVE: “Our sentimental friend the moon! Or possibly (fantastic, I confess) It may be Prester John’s balloon Or an old battered lantern hung aloft To light poor travellers to their distress.” She then: “How you digress!” And I then: “Someone frames upon the keys That exquisite nocturne, with which we explain The night and […]...
26. Madam And The Phone Bill You say I O. K. ed LONG DISTANCE? O. K. ed it when? My goodness, Central That was then! I’m mad and disgusted With that Negro now. I don’t pay no REVERSED CHARGES nohow. You say, I will pay it Else you’ll take out my phone? You better let My phone alone. I didn’t ask […]...
27. The Orphan My father and mother are dead, Nor friend, nor relation I know; And now the cold earth is their bed, And daisies will over them grow. I cast my eyes into the tomb, The sight made me bitterly cry; I said, “And is this the dark room, Where my father and mother must lie?” I […]...
28. Moonlight As a pale phantom with a lamp Ascends some ruin’s haunted stair, So glides the moon along the damp Mysterious chambers of the air. Now hidden in cloud, and now revealed, As if this phantom, full of pain, Were by the crumbling walls concealed, And at the windows seen again. Until at last, serene and […]...
29. Jottings of New York Oh, mighty city of New York, you are wonderful to behold Your buildings are magnificent the truth be it told They were the only thing that seemed to arrest my eye, Because many of them are thirteen storeys high; And as for Central Park, it is lovely to be seen Especially in the summer season […]...
30. Spring Comes To Murray Hill I sit in an office at 244 Madison Avenue And say to myself You have a responsible job havenue? Why then do you fritter away your time on this doggerel? If you have a sore throat you can cure it by using a good goggeral, If you have a sore foot you can get it […]...
31. Riding Together For many, many days together The wind blew steady from the East; For many days hot grew the weather, About the time of our Lady’s Feast. For many days we rode together, Yet met we neither friend nor foe; Hotter and clearer grew the weather, Steadily did the East wind blow. We saw the trees […]...
32. Misgivings “Perhaps you’ll tire of me,” muses My love, although she’s like a great city To me, or a park that finds new Ways to wear each flounce of light And investiture of weather. Soil doesn’t tire of rain, I think, But I know what she fears: plans warp, Planes explode, topsoil gets peeled away By […]...
33. We met as Sparks Diverging Flints We met as Sparks Diverging Flints Sent various scattered ways We parted as the Central Flint Were cloven with an Adze Subsisting on the Light We bore Before We felt the Dark A Flint unto this Day perhaps But for that single Spark....
34. Any Man Speaks I, after difficult entry through my mother’s blood And stumbling childhood (hitting my head against the world); I, intricate, easily unshipped, untracked, unaligned; Cut off in my communications; stammering; speaking A dialect shared by you, but not you and you; I, strangely undeft, bereft; I searching always For my lost rib (clothed in laughter yet […]...
35. Kitanomaru Park 1/ Here’s a picture of us Taking an impromptu walk Side by side in the park Our park, you dubbed Underneath the darkened Canopy of drizzle-wet foliage Two-three Japanese frogs Suspended their croaks And returned the quiet To the nearby loch 2/ This is the very photo That framed your radiance That warmed the shuddering […]...
36. Nature's Way To tribulations of mankind Dame Nature is indifferent; To human sorrow she is blind, And deaf to human discontent. Mid fear and fratricidal fray, Mid woe and tyranny of toil, She goes her unregarding way Of sky and sun and soil. In leaf and blade, in bud and bloom Exultantly her gladness glows, And careless […]...
37. Final Soliloquy Of The Interior Paramour Light the first light of evening, as in a room In which we rest and, for small reason, think The world imagined is the ultimate good. This is, therefore, the intensest rendezvous. It is in that thought that we collect ourselves, Out of all the indifferences, into one thing: Within a single thing, a single […]...
38. Mother o' Mine If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine! I know whose love would follow me still, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine! If I were drowned in the deepest sea, Mother o’ mine, O mother o’ mine! I know whose tears would come down to me, Mother […]...
39. The O'Rahilly Sing of the O’Rahilly, Do not deny his right; Sing a ‘the’ before his name; Allow that he, despite All those learned historians, Established it for good; He wrote out that word himself, He christened himself with blood. How goes the weather? Sing of the O’Rahilly That had such little sense He told Pearse and […]...
40. Cloony The Clown I’ll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown Who worked in a circus that came through town. His shoes were too big and his hat was too small, But he just wasn’t, just wasn’t funny at all. He had a trombone to play loud silly tunes, He had a green dog and a thousand […]...