Far Rockaway

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1. The Choir And Music Of Solitude And Silence Silence is a great blue bell Swinging and ringing, tinkling and singing, In measure’s pleasure, and in the supple symmetry of the soaring of the immense intense wings glinting against All the blue radiance above us and within us, hidden Save for the stars sparking, distant and unheard in their singing. And this is the […]...
2. Far Rockaway Night till Morning WHAT can we say of the night? The fog night, the moon night, the fog moon night last night? There swept out of the sea a song. There swept out of the sea-torn white plungers. There came on the coast wind drive In the spit of a driven spray, On the boom of foam and […]...
3. Forbidden Fruit all the forbidden fruit I ever Dreamt of or was taught to Resist and fear ripens and Blossoms under the palms of my Hands as they uncover and explore You and in the most secret Corners of my heart as it discovers And adores you the forbidden fruit Of forgiveness the forbidden fruit Of finally […]...
4. Innermost One He it is, the innermost one, Who awakens my being with his deep hidden touches. He it is who puts his enchantment upon these eyes And joyfully plays on the chords of my heart In varied cadence of pleasure and pain. He it is who weaves the web of this maya In evanescent hues of […]...
5. Six Significant Landscapes I An old man sits In the shadow of a pine tree In China. He sees larkspur, Blue and white, At the edge of the shadow, Move in the wind. His beard moves in the wind. The pine tree moves in the wind. Thus water flows Over weeds. II The night is of the colour […]...
6. Shadow March All around the house is the jet-black night; It stares through the window-pane; It crawls in the corners, hiding from the light, And it moves with the moving flame. Now my little heart goes a beating like a drum, With the breath of the Bogies in my hair; And all around the candle and the […]...
7. Desire WITH Thee a moment! Then what dreams have play! Traditions of eternal toil arise, Search for the high, austere and lonely way The Spirit moves in through eternities. Ah, in the soul what memories arise! And with what yearning inexpressible, Rising from long forgetfulness I turn To Thee, invisible, unrumoured, still: White for Thy whiteness […]...
8. Amidst the Flowers a Jug of Wine Amidst the flowers a jug of wine, I pour alone lacking companionship. So raising the cup I invite the Moon, Then turn to my shadow which makes three of us. Because the Moon does not know how to drink, My shadow merely follows the movement of my body. The moon has brought the shadow to […]...
9. Under the Shadow of Kiley's Hill This is the place where they all were bred; Some of the rafters are standing still; Now they are scattered and lost and dead, Every one from the old nest fled, Out of the shadow of Kiley’s Hill. Better it is that they ne’er came back Changes and chances are quickly rung; Now the old […]...
10. Two Neighbors FACES of two eternities keep looking at me. One is Omar Khayam and the red stuff Wherein men forget yesterday and to-morrow And remember only the voices and songs, The stories, newspapers and fights of today. One is Louis Cornaro and a slim trick Of slow, short meals across slow, short years, Letting Death open […]...
11. Ripe Fruit Through eyelet holes I watched the crowd Rain of confetti fling; Their joy is lush, their laughter loud, For Carnival is King. Behind his chariot I pace To ean my petty pay; They laugh to see my monster face: “Ripe Fruit,” I hear them say. I do not laugh: my shoulders sag; No heart have […]...
12. Sonnet LVIII That god forbid that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand the account of hours to crave, Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure! O, let me suffer, being at your beck, The imprison’d absence of your liberty; And patience, tame to sufferance, […]...
13. Sonnet 58: That god forbid, that made me first your slave That god forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand th’ account of hours to crave, Being your vassal bound to stay your leisure! O, let me suffer, being at your beck, Th’ imprisoned absence of your liberty, And patience tame to sufferance, […]...
14. My Rocking-Chair When I am old and worse for wear I want to buy a rocking-chair, And set it on a porch where shine The stars of morning-glory vine; With just beyond, a gleam of grass, A shady street where people pass; And some who come with time to spare, To yarn beside my rocking-chair. Then I […]...
15. Eve Look how she stands, high on the steep facade Of the cathedral, near the window-rose, Simply, holding in her hand the apple, Judged for all time as the guiltless-guilty For the growing fruit her body held Which she gave birth to after parting from The circle of eternities. She left To face the strange New […]...
16. In the Beck There is a fish, that quivers in the pool, Itself a shadow, but its shadow, clear. Catch it again and again, it still is there. Against the flowing stream, its life keeps pace With death – the impulse and the flash of grace Hiding in its stillness, moves to be motionless. No net will hold […]...
17. To Beachey, 1912 RIDING against the east, A veering, steady shadow Purrs the motor-call Of the man-bird Ready with the death-laughter In his throat And in his heart always The love of the big blue beyond. Only a man, A far fleck of shadow on the east Sitting at ease With his hands on a wheel And around […]...
18. Mystic shadow, bending near me Mystic shadow, bending near me, Who art thou? Whence come ye? And tell me is it fair Or is the truth bitter as eaten fire? Tell me! Fear not that I should quaver. For I dare I dare. Then, tell me!...
19. I Have Dreamed of You so Much I have dreamed of you so much that you are no longer real. Is there still time for me to reach your breathing body, to kiss your mouth and make Your dear voice come alive again? I have dreamed of you so much that my arms, grown used to being crossed on my Chest as […]...
20. The Chipmunk My friends all know that I am shy, But the chipmunk is twice and shy and I. He moves with flickering indecision Like stripes across the television. He’s like the shadow of a cloud, Or Emily Dickinson read aloud....
21. The Mystic Blue Out of the darkness, fretted sometimes in its sleeping, Jets of sparks in fountains of blue come leaping To sight, revealing a secret, numberless secrets keeping. Sometimes the darkness trapped within a wheel Runs into speed like a dream, the blue of the steel Showing the rocking darkness now a-reel. And out of the invisible, […]...
22. Tennessee Claflin Shope I was the laughing-stock of the village, Chiefly of the people of good sense, as they call themselves Also of the learned, like Rev. Peet, who read Greek The same as English. For instead of talking free trade, Or preaching some form of baptism; Instead of believing in the efficacy Of walking cracks picking up […]...
23. Poem (In the morning, when it was raining) In the morning, when it was raining, Then the birds were hectic and loudy; Through all the reign is fall’s entertaining; Their singing was erratic and full of disorder: They did not remember the summer blue Or the orange of June. They did not think at all Of the great red and bursting ball Of […]...
24. Boa Constrictor Oh, I’m being eaten By a boa constrictor, A boa constrictor, A boa constrictor, I’m being eaten by a boa constrictor, And I don’t like it one bit. Well, what do you know? It’s nibblin’ my toe. Oh, gee, It’s up to my knee. Oh my, It’s up to my thigh. Oh, fiddle, It’s up […]...
25. Winter Promises Tomatoes rosy as perfect baby’s buttocks, Eggplants glossy as waxed fenders, Purple neon flawless glistening Peppers, pole beans fecund and fast Growing as Jack’s Viagra-sped stalk, Big as truck tire zinnias that mildew Will never wilt, roses weighing down A bush never touched by black spot, Brave little fruit trees shouldering up Their spotless ornaments […]...
26. From the Dark Tower We shall not always plant while others reap The golden increment of bursting fruit, Not always countenance, abject and mute, That lesser men should hold their brothers cheap; Not everlastingly while others sleep Shall we beguile their limbs with mellow flute, Not always bend to some more subtle brute; We were not made to eternally […]...
27. Sketch THE shadows of the ships Rock on the crest In the low blue lustre Of the tardy and the soft inrolling tide. A long brown bar at the dip of the sky Puts an arm of sand in the span of salt. The lucid and endless wrinkles Draw in, lapse and withdraw. Wavelets crumble and […]...
28. Stepping Westward What is green in me Darkens, muscadine. If woman is inconstant, Good, I am faithful to Ebb and flow, I fall In season and now Is a time of ripening. If her part Is to be true, A north star, Good, I hold steady In the black sky And vanish by day, Yet burn there […]...
29. The Dungeon [from his play Osorio, later called Remorse] Song (Act V, scene i) And this place our forefathers made for man! This is the process of our Love and Wisdom, To each poor brother who offends against us Most innocent, perhaps and what if guilty? Is this the only cure? Merciful God! Each pore and natural […]...
30. Hymn 98 Christ our wisdom, righteousness, etc. 1 Cor. 1:30. How heavy is the night That hangs upon our eyes, Till Christ with his reviving light Over our souls arise! Our guilty spirits dread To meet the wrath of Heav’n; But, in his righteousness arrayed, We see our sins forgiv’n. Unholy and impure Are all our thoughts […]...
31. Long Odds How many million galaxies there are Who knows? and each has countless stars in it, And each rolls through eternities afar Beneath the threshold of the Infinite. How is it that will all that space to roam I should have found this mote that spins and leaps In what unutterable sunlight, foam Of what unfathomable […]...
32. How To Kill Under the parabola of a ball, A child turning into a man, I looked into the air too long. The ball fell in my hand, it sang In the closed fist: Open Open Behold a gift designed to kill. Now in my dial of glass appears The soldier who is going to die. He smiles, […]...
33. Wind was Rough which Tore, The The wind was rough which tore That leaf from its parent tree The fate was cruel which bore The withering corpse to me We wander on we have no rest It is a dreary way What shadow is it That ever moves before [my] eyes It has a brow of ghostly whiteness...
34. Pleasure XXIV Then a hermit, who visited the city once a year, came forth and said, “Speak to us of Pleasure.” And he answered, saying: Pleasure is a freedom song, But it is not freedom. It is the blossoming of your desires, But it is not their fruit. It is a depth calling unto a height, But […]...
35. The Rest The rest of us watch from beyond the fence As the woman moves with her jagged stride Into her pain as if into a slow race. We see her body in motion But hear no sounds, or we hear Sounds but no language; or we know It is not a language we know Yet. We […]...
36. Eldorado Gaily bedight, A gallant knight, In sunshine and in shadow, Had journeyed long, Singing a song, In search of Eldorado. But he grew old This knight so bold And o’er his heart a shadow Fell as he found No spot of ground That looked like Eldorado. And, as his strength Failed him at length, He […]...
37. The Light Wraps You The light wraps you in its mortal flame. Abstracted pale mourner, standing that way Against the old propellers of the twighlight That revolves around you. Speechless, my friend, Alone in the loneliness of this hour of the dead And filled with the lives of fire, Pure heir of the ruined day. A bough of fruit […]...
38. My Heart Is Heavy My heart is heavy with many a song Like ripe fruit bearing down the tree, But I can never give you one My songs do not belong to me. Yet in the evening, in the dusk When moths go to and fro, In the gray hour if the fruit has fallen, Take it, no one […]...
39. A Lover's Envy I envy every flower that blows Along the meadow where she goes, And every bird that sings to her, And every breeze that brings to her The fragrance of the rose. I envy every poet’s rhyme That moves her heart at eventime, And every tree that wears for her Its brightest bloom, and bears for […]...
40. The Cow In Apple-Time Something inspires the only cow of late To make no more of a wall than an open gate, And think no more of wall-builders than fools. Her face is flecked with pomace and she drools A cider syrup. Having tasted fruit, She scorns a pasture withering to the root. She runs from tree to tree […]...