The Thread

Related poetry:

1. Thread the sky is shattered Its debris Clutters the world’s streets Where the light came from Is a question Charred beyond recognition Heads hang out of walls Limbs unattached Rigid in their will to crawl away But there’s a bird (black In the jagged sky) With a twig still stuck in its beak Is it falling […]...
2. The Thread of Truth Truth is a golden thread, seen here and there In small bright specks upon the visible side Of our strange being’s parti-coloured web. How rich the universe! ‘Tis a vein of ore Emerging now and then on Earth’s rude breast, But flowing full below. Like islands set At distant intervals on Ocean’s face, We see […]...
3. Don't put up my Thread and Needle Don’t put up my Thread and Needle I’ll begin to Sew When the Birds begin to whistle Better Stitches so These were bent my sight got crooked When my mind is plain I’ll do seams a Queen’s endeavor Would not blush to own Hems too fine for Lady’s tracing To the sightless Knot Tucks of […]...
4. The Snapped Thread Desire, first, by a natural miracle United bodies, united hearts, blazed beauty; Transcended bodies, transcended hearts. Two souls, now unalterably one In whole love always and for ever, Soar out of twilight, through upper air, Let fall their sensous burden. Is it kind, though, is it honest even, To consort with none but spirits- Leaving […]...
5. The Thread of Life I The irresponsive silence of the land, The irresponsive sounding of the sea, Speak both one message of one sense to me: Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand Thou too aloof bound with the flawless band Of inner solitude; we bind not thee; But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free? What heart […]...
6. Abandoned Dog They dumped it on the lonely road, Then like a streak they sped; And as along the way I strode I thought that it was dead: And then I saw that yelping pup Rise, race to catch them up. You know how silly wee dogs are. It thought they were in fun. Trying to overtake […]...
7. Two In The Campagna I wonder how you feel to-day As I have felt since, hand in hand, We sat down on the grass, to stray In spirit better through the land, This morn of Rome and May? For me, I touched a thought, I know, Has tantalized me many times, (Like turns of thread the spiders throw Mocking […]...
8. May 24, 1980 I have braved, for want of wild beasts, steel cages, Carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters, Lived by the sea, flashed aces in an oasis, Dined with the-devil-knows-whom, in tails, on truffles. From the height of a glacier I beheld half a world, the earthly width. Twice have drowned, thrice let knives […]...
9. Refrain Of all the songs which poets sing The ones which are most sweet Are those which at close intervals A low refrain repeat; Some tender word, some syllable, Over and over, ever and ever, While the song lasts, Altering never, Music if sung, music if said, Subtle like some golden thread A shuttle casts, In […]...
10. This Life Which Seems So Fair This Life, which seems so fair, Is like a bubble blown up in the air By sporting children’s breath, Who chase it everywhere And strive who can most motion it bequeath. And though it sometimes seem of its own might Like to an eye of gold to be fixed there, And firm to hover in […]...
11. Silent Noon Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass, – The finger-points look through like rosy blooms: Your eyes smile peace. The pasture gleams and glooms ‘Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass. All round our nest, far as the eye can pass, Are golden kingcup-fields with silver edge Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn-hedge. […]...
12. Sonnet CXLIII Lo! as a careful housewife runs to catch One of her feather’d creatures broke away, Sets down her babe and makes an swift dispatch In pursuit of the thing she would have stay, Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase, Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent To follow that which flies […]...
13. Sonnet 143: Lo, as a careful huswife runs to catch Lo, as a careful huswife runs to catch One of her feathered creatures broke away, Sets down her babe and makes all swift dispatch In pursuit of the thing she would have stay, Whilst her neglected child holds her in chase, Cries to catch her whose busy care is bent To follow that which flies […]...
14. On such a night, or such a night On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its chair So quiet Oh how quiet, That nobody might know But that the little figure Rocked softer to and fro On such a dawn, or such a dawn Would anybody sigh That such a little […]...
15. His Bargain Who talks of Plato’s spindle; What set it whirling round? Eternity may dwindle, Time is unwound, Dan and Jerry Lout Change their loves about. However they may take it, Before the thread began I made, and may not break it When the last thread has run, A bargain with that hair And all the windings […]...
16. 16-bit Intel 8088 chip with an Apple Macintosh You can’t run Radio Shack programs In its disc drive. Nor can a Commodore 64 Drive read a file You have created on an IBM Personal Computer. Both Kaypro and Osborne computers use The CP/M operating system But can’t read each other’s Handwriting For they format (write On) discs in different […]...
17. Parent's Pantoum for Maxine Kumin Where did these enormous children come from, More ladylike than we have ever been? Some of ours look older than we feel. How did they appear in their long dresses More ladylike than we have ever been? But they moan about their aging more than we do, In their fragile heels and […]...
18. Noon I bend to the ground To catch Something whispered, Urgent, drifting Across the ditches. The heaviness of Flies stuttering In orbit, dirt Ripening, the sweat Of eggs. There are Small streams The width ofa thumb Running in the villages Of sheaves, whole Eras of grain Wakening on The stalks, a roof That breathes over My […]...
19. Sitting by a Bush in Broad Sunlight When I spread out my hand here today, I catch no more than a ray To feel of between thumb and fingers; No lasting effect of it lingers. There was one time and only the one When dust really took in the sun; And from that one intake of fire All creatures still warmly suspire. […]...
20. Eve – Song I span and Eve span A thread to bind the heart of man; But the heart of man was a wandering thing That came and went with little to bring: Nothing he minded what we made, As here he loitered, and there he stayed. I span and Eve span A thread to bind the heart […]...
21. Wallflower Come friend, I have an old story to tell you- Listen. Sit down beside me and listen. My face is red with sorrow And my breasts are made of straw. I sit in the ladder-back chair In a corner of the polished stage. I have forgiven all the old actors for dying. A new one […]...
22. It Is March It is March and black dust falls out of the books Soon I will be gone The tall spirit who lodged here has Left already On the avenues the colorless thread lies under Old prices When you look back there is always the past Even when it has vanished But when you look forward With […]...
23. A Song From 'The Player Queen&#039 My mother dandled me and sang, ‘How young it is, how young!’ And made a golden cradle That on a willow swung. ‘He went away,’ my mother sang, ‘When I was brought to bed,’ And all the while her needle pulled The gold and silver thread. She pulled the thread and bit the thread And […]...
24. Atavism I was always afraid of Somes’s Pond: Not the little pond, by which the willow stands, Where laughing boys catch alewives in their hands In brown, bright shallows; but the one beyond. There, where the frost makes all the birches burn Yellow as cow-lilies, and the pale sky shines Like a polished shell between black […]...
25. Ghosts of a Lunatic Asylum Here, where men’s eyes were empty and as bright As the blank windows set in glaring brick, When the wind strengthens from the sea and night Drops like a fog and makes the breath come thick; By the deserted paths, the vacant halls, One may see figures, twisted shades and lean, Like the mad shapes […]...
26. Growing Old What is it to grow old? Is it to lose the glory of the form, The lustre of the eye? Is it for beauty to forego her wreath? Yes, but not for this alone. Is it to feel our strength – Not our bloom only, but our strength-decay? Is it to feel each limb Grow […]...
27. Veni Creator I LORD of the grass and hill, Lord of the rain, White Overlord of will, Master of pain, I who am dust and air Blown through the halls of death, Like a pale ghost of prayer,- I am thy breath. Lord of the blade and leaf, Lord of the bloom, Sheer Overlord of grief, Master […]...
28. One Flesh Lying apart now, each in a separate bed, He with a book, keeping the light on late, She like a girl dreaming of childhood, All men elsewhere – it is as if they wait Some new event: the book he holds unread, Her eyes fixed on the shadows overhead. Tossed up like flotsam from a […]...
29. The Red Blaze is the Morning The Red Blaze is the Morning The Violet is Noon The Yellow Day is falling And after that is none But Miles of Sparks at Evening Reveal the Width that burned The Territory Argent that Never yet consumed...
30. Considering The Snail The snail pushes through a green Night, for the grass is heavy With water and meets over The bright path he makes, where rain Has darkened the earth’s dark. He Moves in a wood of desire, Pale antlers barely stirring As he hunts. I cannot tell What power is at work, drenched there With purpose, […]...
31. Clothes chapter X And the weaver said, “Speak to us of Clothes.” And he answered: Your clothes conceal much of your beauty, yet they hide not the unbeautiful. And though you seek in garments the freedom of privacy you may find in them a harness and a chain. Would that you could meet the sun and the wind […]...
32. THE SPINNER As I calmly sat and span, Toiling with all zeal, Lo! a young and handsome man Pass’d my spinning-wheel. And he praised, what harm was there? Sweet the things he said Praised my flax-resembling hair, And the even thread. He with this was not content, But must needs do more; And in twain the thread […]...
33. At leisure is the Soul At leisure is the Soul That gets a Staggering Blow The Width of Life before it spreads Without a thing to do It begs you give it Work But just the placing Pins Or humblest Patchwork Children do To Help its Vacant Hands...
34. Dream Song 133: As he grew famousâ€"ah, but what is fame? As he grew famous—ah, but what is fame? — He lost his old obsession with his name, Things seemed to matter less, Including the fame—a television team came From another country to make a film of him Which did not him distress: He enjoyed the hard work & he was good at that, So they […]...
35. How many schemes may die How many schemes may die In one short Afternoon Entirely unknown To those they most concern The man that was not lost Because by accident He varied by a Ribbon’s width From his accustomed route The Love that would not try Because beside the Door It must be competitions Some unsuspecting Horse was tied Surveying […]...
36. Love and the Gentle Heart Love and the gentle heart are one thing, Just as the poet says in his verse, Each from the other one as well divorced As reason from the mind’s reasoning. Nature craves love, and then creates love king, And makes the heart a palace where he’ll stay, Perhaps a shorter or a longer day, Breathing […]...
37. When the Rose is Faded When the rose is faded, Memory may still dwell on Her beauty shadowed, And the sweet smell gone. That vanishing loveliness, That burdening breath, No bond of life hath then, Nor grief of death. ‘Tis the immortal thought Whose passion still Makes the changing The unchangeable. Oh, thus thy beauty, Loveliest on earth to me, […]...
38. The Song of the Shirt With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat, in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread Stitch! stitch! stitch! In poverty, hunger, and dirt, And still with a voice of dolorous pitch She sang the “Song of the Shirt.” “Work! work! work! While the cock is crowing aloof! And work […]...
39. Somewhere upon the general Earth Somewhere upon the general Earth Itself exist Today The Magic passive but extant That consecrated me Indifferent Seasons doubtless play Where I for right to be Would pay each Atom that I am But Immortality Reserving that but just to prove Another Date of Thee Oh God of Width, do not for us Curtail Eternity!...
40. True Love In silence the heart raves. It utters words Meaningless, that never had A meaning. I was ten, skinny, red-headed, Freckled. In a big black Buick, Driven by a big grown boy, with a necktie, she sat In front of the drugstore, sipping something Through a straw. There is nothing like Beauty. It stops your heart. […]...