Stone Shadows

Related poetry:

1. Black Stone On Top Of Nothing Still sober, César Vallejo comes home and finds a black ribbon Around the apartment building covering the front door. He puts down his cane, removes his greasy fedora, and begins To untangle the mess. His neighbors line up behind him Wondering what’s going on. A middle-aged woman carrying A loaf of fresh bread asks him […]...
2. Troll Sat Alone on His Seat of Stone Troll sat alone on his seat of stone, And munched and mumbled a bare old bone; For many a year he had gnawed it near, For meat was hard to come by. Done by! Gum by! In a cave in the hills he dwelt alone, And meat was hard to come by. Up came Tom […]...
3. Black Stone on Top of a White Stone I shall die in Paris, in a rainstorm, On a day I already remember. I shall die in Paris it does not bother me Doubtless on a Thursday, like today, in autumn. It shall be a Thursday, because today, Thursday As I put down these lines, I have set my shoulders To the evil. Never […]...
4. XVII (Thinking, Tangling Shadows…) Thinking, tangling shadows in the deep solitude. You are far away too, oh farther than anyone. Thinking, freeing birds, dissolving images, Burying lamps. Belfry of fogs, how far away, up there! Stifling laments, milling shadowy hopes, Taciturn miller, Night falls on you face downward, far from the city. Your presence is foreign, as strange to […]...
5. Dream Song 109: She mentioned 'worthless' & he took it in She mentioned ‘worthless’ & he took it in, Degraded Henry, at the ebb of love— O at the end of love— In undershorts, with visitors, whereof We can say their childlessness is ending. Love Finally took over, After their two adopted: she has a month to go And Henry has (perhaps) many months to go […]...
6. One Life of so much Consequence! One Life of so much Consequence! Yet I for it would pay My Soul’s entire income In ceaseless salary One Pearl to me so signal That I would instant dive Although I knew to take it Would cost me just a life! The Sea is full I know it! That does not blur my Gem! […]...
7. Shadows Before “Like clouds o’er the South are the nations who reign On fair islands that we would command; But clouds that are darker and denser than these Have sailed from an Isle in the Northern Seas And rest on our Southern Land. Low in dust is our Goddess of Liberty hurled At our feet, and the […]...
8. The Faithless Shadows The faithless shadows of day are running And high and clear is the call of bells, Steps of the church are blazed as with the lightning, Their stones are alive and wait for your light steps. You’ll here pass and touch the chilly stone, That’s dressed in awful sanity of span, And let the flower […]...
9. The Song Of Shadows “Sweep thy faint strings, Musician, With thy long lean hand; Downward the starry tapers burn, Sinks soft the waning sand; The old hound whimpers couched in sleep, The embers smoulder low; Across the walls the shadows Come, and go. Sweep softly thy strings, Musician, The minutes mount to hours; Frost on the windless casement weaves […]...
10. That Women Are But Men's Shadows Follow a shadow, it still flies you; Seem to fly it, it will pursue: So court a mistress, she denies you; Let her alone, she will court you. Say, are not women truly then Styled but the shadows of us men? At morn and even shades are longest, At noon they are or short or […]...
11. Harlem Shadows I hear the halting footsteps of a lass In Negro Harlem when the night lets fall Its veil. I see the shapes of girls who pass To bend and barter at desire’s call. Ah, little dark girls who in slippered feet Go prowling through the night from street to street! Through the long night until […]...
12. A Stone Is Nobody's A man ambushed a stone. Caught it. Made it a prisoner. Put it in a dark room and stood guard over it for the Rest of his life. His mother asked why. He said, because it’s held captive, because it is Captured. Look, the stone is asleep, she said, it does not know Whether it’s […]...
13. Like Men and Women Shadows walk Like Men and Women Shadows walk Upon the Hills Today With here and there a mighty Bow Or trailing Courtesy To Neighbors doubtless of their own Not quickened to perceive Minuter landscape as Ourselves And Boroughs where we live...
14. Autumn: A Dirge The warm sun is falling, the bleak wind is wailing, The bare boughs are sighing, the pale flowers are dying, And the Year On the earth is her death-bed, in a shroud of leaves dead, Is lying. Come, Months, come away, From November to May, In your saddest array; Follow the bier Of the dead […]...
15. A Rolling Stone There’s sunshine in the heart of me, My blood sings in the breeze; The mountains are a part of me, I’m fellow to the trees. My golden youth I’m squandering, Sun-libertine am I; A-wandering, a-wandering, Until the day I die. I was once, I declare, a Stone-Age man, And I roomed in the cool of […]...
16. Suicide's Stone Peace is the heir of dead desire, Whether abundance killed the cormorant In a happy hour, or sleep or death Drowned him deep in dreamy waters, Peace is the ashes of that fire, The heir of that king, the inn of that journey. This last and best and goal: we dead Hold it so tight […]...
17. THE FIRST MONTH OF THE YEAR A page of the ‘Kelmscott’ Chaucer Seen through out cottage window When the Pennines were blind with snow Flurrying round the stones. The fire was low when I began to blow That single flicker to a flame, Was I too late, I wondered, the ‘poet in name’ Whose mind runs endlessly As fingers through an […]...
18. The Hearth-Stone The leaves are sick and jaundiced, they Drift down the air; December’s sky is sodden grey, Dark with despair; A bleary dawn will light anon A world of care. My name is cut into a stone, No care have I; The letters drool, as I alone Forgotten lie: With weed my grave is overgrown, None […]...
19. At the grave of Anastasia Baluk – Cross Stone Anastasia And the sad snow falling A toiling sky And a long white line of hills A distant birthplace Short span and early dying Pain from what heaven Sorrowed your slope of life? Through valley’s throat Run double veins of water Feverish river Somnolent canal – the vein of the metal rail And the trundling […]...
20. Scented Herbage of My Breast SCENTED herbage of my breast, Leaves from you I yield, I write, to be perused best afterwards, Tomb-leaves, body-leaves, growing up above me, above death, Perennial roots, tall leaves-O the winter shall not freeze you, delicate leaves, Every year shall you bloom again-out from where you retired, you shall emerge again; O I do not […]...
21. Says Mister Doojabs Well, eight months ago one clear cold day, I took a ramble up Broadway, And with my hands behind my back I strolled along on the streetcar track- (I walked on the track, for walking there Gives one, I think, a distinguished air.) “Well, all of a sudden I felt a jar And I said, […]...
22. Quicksand Years QUICKSAND years that whirl me I know not whither, Your schemes, politics, fail-lines give way-substances mock and elude me; Only the theme I sing, the great and strong-possess’d Soul, eludes not; One’s-self must never give way-that is the final substance-that out of all is sure; Out of politics, triumphs, battles, life-what at last finally remains? […]...
23. The Old Stone Cross A statesman is an easy man, He tells his lies by rote; A journalist makes up his lies And takes you by the throat; So stay at home’ and drink your beer And let the neighbours’ vote, Said the man in the golden breastplate Under the old stone Cross. Because this age and the next […]...
24. To The Stone-Cutters Stone-cutters fighting time with marble, you foredefeated Challengers of oblivion Eat cynical earnings, knowing rock splits, records fall down, The square-limbed Roman letters Scale in the thaws, wear in the rain. The poet as well Builds his monument mockingly; For man will be blotted out, the blithe earth die, the brave sun Die blind and […]...
25. On Building With Stone To be an ape in little of the mountain-making mother Like swarthy Cheops, but my own hands For only slaves, is a far sweeter toil than to cut Passions in verse for a sick people. I’d liefer bed one boulder in the house-wall than be the time’s Archilochus: we name not Homer: who now Can […]...
26. Stone Villages The stone-built villages of England. A cathedral bottled in a pub window. Cows dispersed across fields. Monuments to kings. A man in a moth-eaten suit Sees a train off, heading, like everything here, for the sea, Smiles at his daughter, leaving for the East. A whistle blows. And the endless sky over the tiles Grows […]...
27. The Three Hermits Three old hermits took the air By a cold and desolate sea, First was muttering a prayer, Second rummaged for a flea; On a windy stone, the third, Giddy with his hundredth year, Sang unnoticed like a bird: ‘Though the Door of Death is near And what waits behind the door, Three times in a […]...
28. Stone Breaking March wind rough Clashed the trees, Flung the snow; Breaking stones, In the cold, Germans slow Toiled and toiled; Arrowy sun Glanced and sprang, One right blithe German sang: Songs of home, Fatherland: Syenite hard, Weary lot, Callous hand, All forgot: Hammers pound, Ringing round; Rise the heaps, To his voice, Bounds and leaps Toise […]...
29. How happy is the little Stone How happy is the little Stone That rambles in the Road alone, And doesn’t care about Careers And Exigencies never fears Whose Coat of elemental Brown A passing Universe put on, And independent as the Sun Associates or glows alone, Fulfilling absolute Decree In casual simplicity...
30. Twenty-Pound Stone It nests in the hollow of my pelvis, I carry it with both hands, as if offering my stomach, as if it were pulling me forward. At night the sun leaks from it, it turns cold, I sleep with it beside my head, I breath for it. Sometimes I dream of hammers. I am hammering […]...
31. To Be Carved On A Stone At Thoor Ballylee I, the poet William Yeats, With old mill boards and sea-green slates, And smithy work from the Gort forge, Restored this tower for my wife George; And may these characters remain When all is ruin once again....
32. It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone It was a Grave, yet bore no Stone Enclosed ’twas not of Rail A Consciousness its Acre, and It held a Human Soul. Entombed by whom, for what offence If Home or Foreign born Had I the curiosity ‘Twere not appeased of men Till Resurrection, I must guess Denied the small desire A Rose upon […]...
33. 438. Impromptu on Mrs. Riddell's Birthday OLD Winter, with his frosty beard, Thus once to Jove his prayer preferred: “What have I done of all the year, To bear this hated doom severe? My cheerless suns no pleasure know; Night’s horrid car drags, dreary slow; My dismal months no joys are crowning, But spleeny English hanging, drowning. “Now Jove, for once […]...
34. Sonnet 65: Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But sad mortality o’ersways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Whose action is no stronger than a flower? O, how shall summer’s honey breath hold out Against the wrackful siege of batt’ring days, When rocks impregnable are not so stout, Nor […]...
35. Encouraged Because you love me I have much achieved, Had you despised me then I must have failed, But since I knew you trusted and believed, I could not disappoint you and so prevailed....
36. A Calendar of Sonnets: October The month of carnival of all the year, When Nature lets the wild earth go its way, And spend whole seasons on a single day. The spring-time holds her white and purple dear; October, lavish, flaunts them far and near; The summer charily her reds doth lay Like jewels on her costliest array; October, scornful, […]...
37. The Journey One day you finally knew What you had to do, and began, Though the voices around you Kept shouting Their bad advice— Though the whole house Began to tremble And you felt the old tug At your ankles. “Mend my life!” Each voice cried. But you didn’t stop. You knew what you had to do, […]...
38. The Dream Called Life From the Spanish of Pedro Calderon de la Barca A dream it was in which I found myself. And you that hail me now, then hailed me king, In a brave palace that was all my own, Within, and all without it, mine; until, Drunk with excess of majesty and pride, Methought I towered so […]...
39. One of the ones that Midas touched One of the ones that Midas touched Who failed to touch us all Was that confiding Prodigal The reeling Oriole So drunk he disavows it With badinage divine So dazzling we mistake him For an alighting Mine A Pleader a Dissembler An Epicure a Thief Betimes an Oratorio An Ecstasy in chief The Jesuit of […]...
40. The During Months Like summer in some countries and like rain In mine, for nuns like God, for drunks like beer, Like food for chefs, for invalids like pain, You’ve occupied a large part of the year. The during months to those before and since Would make a ratio of ten to two, Counting the ones spent trying […]...