Home ⇒ 📌Derek Walcott ⇒ Coral
Coral
This coral’s hape ecohes the hand
It hollowed. Its
Immediate absence is heavy. As pumice,
As your breast in my cupped palm.
Sea-cold, its nipple rasps like sand,
Its pores, like yours, shone with salt sweat.
Bodies in absence displace their weight,
And your smooth body, like none other,
Creates an exact absence like this stoneSet on a table with a whitening rack
Of souvenirs. It dares my hand
To claim what lovers’ hands have never known:
The nature of the body of another.
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)Related poetry:
- Song The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, Under the burden of dissatisfaction the weight, The weight we carry is love. Who can deny? In dreams It touches the body, In thought constructs A miracle, in imagination Anguishes till born In human Looks out of the heart burning with purity For […]...
- Sonnet XIX: Farewell, Ye Coral Caves Farewell, ye coral caves, ye pearly sands, Ye waving woods that crown yon lofty steep; Farewell, ye Nereides of the glitt’ring deep, Ye mountain tribes, ye fawns, ye sylvan bands: On the bleak rock your frantic minstrel stands, Each task forgot, save that, to sigh and weep; In vain the strings her burning fingers sweep, […]...
- August 17th Good for visiting hospitals or charitable work. Take some time to attend to your health. Surely I will be disquieted By the hospital, that body zone Bodies wrapped in elastic bands, Bodies cased in wood or used like telephones, Bodies crucified up onto their crutches, Bodies wearing rubber bags between their legs, Bodies vomiting up […]...
- Tonight I Can Write Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, ‘The night is starry And the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’ The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I […]...
- Holy Thursday They’re kindly here, to let us linger so late, Long after the shutters are up. A waiter glides from the kitchen with a plate Of stew, or some thick soup, And settles himself at the next table but one. We know, you and I, that it’s over, That something or other has come between Us, […]...
- Sonnet L LOng languishing in double malady, Of my harts wound and of my bodies greife: There came to me a leach that would apply Fit medicines for my bodies best reliefe. Vayne man (quod I) that hast but little priefe: In deep discouery of the mynds disease, Is not the hart of all the body chiefe? […]...
- The Grey Monk “I die, I die!” the Mother said, “My children die for lack of bread. What more has the merciless Tyrant said?” The Monk sat down on the stony bed. The blood red ran from the Grey Monk’s side, His hands and feet were wounded wide, His body bent, his arms and knees Like to the […]...
- Liebestod When I was bold, when I was bold- And that’s a hundred years!- Oh, never I thought my breast could hold The terrible weight of tears. I said: “Now some be dolorous; I hear them wail and sigh, And if it be Love that play them thus, Then never a love will I.” I said: […]...
- No Rack can torture me No Rack can torture me My Soul at Liberty Behind this mortal Bone There knits a bolder One You cannot prick with saw Nor pierce with Scimitar Two Bodies therefore be Bind One The Other fly The Eagle of his Nest No easier divest And gain the Sky Than mayest Thou Except Thyself may be […]...
- Black Oaks Okay, not one can write a symphony, or a dictionary, Or even a letter to an old friend, full of remembrance And comfort. Not one can manage a single sound though the blue jays Carp and whistle all day in the branches, without The push of the wind. But to tell the truth after a […]...
- By an Evolutionist By an Evolutionist The Lord let the house of a brute to the soul of a man, And the man said, ‘Am I your debtor?’ And the Lord-‘Not yet; but make it as clean as you can, And then I will let you a better.’ I. If my body come from brutes, my soul uncertain […]...
- Song What I took in my hand Grew in weight. You must Understand it Was not obscene. Night comes. We sleep. Then if you know what Say it. Don’t pretend. Guises are What enemies wear. You And I live In a prayer. Helpless. Helpless, Should I speak. Would you. What do you think of me. No […]...
- Last Poem of my 45th Year I thought of how a whale’s white ribs Could choke the sky’s blue neck, Massive vertebrae half-buried in sand, And how a keel cleaves the sea While the wind zephyrs canvas to swell And propel the long black ship toward shore, Heaven in a blue mussel shell, smooth As the firmament. I believe there is […]...
- The Friend We sat across the table. He said, cut off your hands. They are always poking at things. They might touch me. I said yes. Food grew cold on the table. He said, burn your body. It is not clean and smells like sex. It rubs my mind sore. I said yes. I love you, I […]...
- A Benediction Of The Air In every presence there is absence. When we’re together, the spaces between Threaten to enclose our bodies And isolate our spirits. The mirror reflects what we are not, And we wonder if our mate Suspects a fatal misreading Of our original text, Not to mention the dreaded subtext. Reality, we fear, mocks appearance. Or is […]...
- Putting in the Seed You come to fetch me from my work to-night When supper’s on the table, and we’ll see If I can leave off burying the white Soft petals fallen from the apple tree (Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite, Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea); And go along with you ere you […]...
- The Sea-Child Into the world you sent her, mother, Fashioned her body of coral and foam, Combed a wave in her hair’s warm smother, And drove her away from home In the dark of the night she crept to the town And under a doorway she laid her down, The little blue child in the foam-fringed gown. […]...
- Clouds Above The Sea My father and mother, two tiny figures, Side by side, facing the clouds that move In from the Atlantic. August, ’33. The whole weight of the rain to come, the weight Of all that has fallen on their houses Gathers for a last onslaught, and yet they Hold, side by side, in the eye of […]...
- The Poem That Took The Place Of A Mountain There it was, word for word, The poem that took the place of a mountain. He breathed its oxygen, Even when the book lay turned in the dust of his table. It reminded him how he had needed A place to go to in his own direction, How he had recomposed the pines, Shifted the […]...
- Rain Suddenly this defeat. This rain. The blues gone gray And the browns gone gray And yellow A terrible amber. In the cold streets Your warm body. In whatever room Your warm body. Among all the people Your absence The people who are always Not you. I have been easy with trees Too long. Too familiar […]...
- The Watch Moonlight spills down vacant sills, Illuminates an empty bed. Dreams lie in crates. One hand creates Wan silver circles, left unread By its companion unmoved now By anything that lies ahead. I watch the minutes test the limits Of ornamental movement here, Where once another hand would hover. Each circuit incomplete. So dear, So precious, […]...
- Keeping Things Whole In a field I am the absence Of field. This is Always the case. Wherever I am I am what is missing. When I walk I part the air And always The air moves in To fill the spaces Where my body’s been. We all have reasons For moving. I move To keep things whole....
- Los Angeles, 1954 It was in the old days, When she used to hang out at a place Called Club Zombie, A black cabaret that the police liked To raid now and then. As she Stepped through the door, the light Would hit her platinum hair, And believe me, heads would turn. Maestro Loved it; he’d have her […]...
- A Quarrel After that failed intercourse she asked if something had been wrong. She coiled in muteness and ventured an old book from the shelf in my mind. I dived into her seabed where corals petrified among untrampled seaweeds. When I emerged gasping, our bedroom had grown black; she had fallen asleep; her tears, another ocean....
- The Woman So beautiful God himself quailed At her approach: the long body curved Like the horizon. Why had he made Her so? How would it be, she said, Leaning towards him, if instead of Quarreling over it, we divided it Between us? You can have all the credit For its invention, if you will leave the […]...
- Winter Remembered Two evils, monstrous either one apart, Possessed me, and were long and loath at going: A cry of Absence, Absence, in the heart, And in the wood the furious winter blowing. Think not, when fire was bright upon my bricks, And past the tight boards hardly a wind could enter, I glowed like them, the […]...
- Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
- The Scribe What lovely things Thy hand hath made: The smooth-plumed bird In its emerald shade, The seed of the grass, The speck of the stone Which the wayfaring ant Stirs and hastes on! Though I should sit By some tarn in thy hills, Using its ink As the spirit wills To write of Earth’s wonders, Its […]...
- Psalm 42 Part 1 v.1-5 C. M. Desertion and hope; or, Complaint of absence from public worship. With earnest longings of the mind, My God, to thee I look; So pants the hunted hart to find And taste the cooling brook. When shall I see thy courts of grace, And meet my God again? So long an absence from […]...
- A still Volcano Life A still Volcano Life That flickered in the night When it was dark enough to do Without erasing sight A quiet Earthquake Style Too subtle to suspect By natures this side Naples The North cannot detect The Solemn Torrid Symbol The lips that never lie Whose hissing Corals part and shut And Cities ooze away...
- The Fear Of Burial In the empty field, in the morning, The body waits to be claimed. The spirit sits beside it, on a small rock Nothing comes to give it form again. Think of the body’s loneliness. At night pacing the sheared field, Its shadow buckled tightly around. Such a long journey. And already the remote, trembling lights […]...
- Cotton Song Come, brother, come. Lets lift it; Come now, hewit! roll away! Shackles fall upon the Judgment Day But lets not wait for it. God’s body’s got a soul, Bodies like to roll the soul, Cant blame God if we dont roll, Come, brother, roll, roll! Cotton bales are the fleecy way, Weary sinner’s bare feet […]...
- Valentine To The Girl In Black In hand I take this pen of mine To write you, sweet, a valentine; I’d take your dainty hand instead, But-you’re a drawing-I am wed- And that is why, you understand, I only take my pen in hand....
- Grace and Providence Almighty King! whose wondrous hand Supports the weight of sea and land; Whose grace is such a boundless store, No heart shall break that sighs for more. Thy providence supplies my food, And ’tis Thy blessing makes it good; My soul is nourish’d by Thy Word, Let soul and body praise the Lord! My streams […]...
- For A Thirteenth Birthday You have read War and Peace. Now here is Sister Carrie, Not up to Tolstoy; still It will second the real world: Predictable planes and levels, Pavement that holds you, Stairs that lift you, Ice that trips you, Nights that begin after sunset, Four lunar phases, A finite house. I give you Dreiser Although (or […]...
- Immortality In Sleeping Beauty’s castle The clock strikes one hundred years And the girl in the tower returns to the world. So do the servants in the kitchen, Who don’t even rub their eyes. The cook’s right hand, lifted An exact century ago, Completes its downward arc To the kitchen boy’s left ear; The boy’s tensed […]...
- The Demon In Me The demon in me’s not dead, He’s living, and well. In the body as in a hold, In the self as in a cell. The world is but walls. The exit’s the axe. (“All the world’s a stage,” The actor prates.) And that hobbling buffoon Is no joker; In the body as in glory, In […]...
- In A Vacant House Someone was calling someone; Now they’ve stopped. Beyond the glass The rose vines quiver as in A light wind, but there is none: I hear nothing. The moments pass, Or seem to pass, and the sun, Risen above the old birch, Steadies for the downward arch. It is noon. Privacy is One thing, but to […]...
- THE HUDSON O! Und dann wieder dies Bei-sich-selbst-Sein! Diese Stummheiten! Dies Getriebenwerden! ………………………………………………………………………. O! And then to be with – our – very – selves! This muteness! This going adrift! Gottfried Benn When we take her too seriously, Poetry begins to make fun of us: Where is the paper, in what other sky This insect flies because […]...
- The Colonel What you have heard is true. I was in his house. His wife carried a tray of coffee and sugar. His Daughter filed her nails, his son went out for the Night. There were daily papers, pet dogs, a pistol On the cushion beside him. The moon swung bare on Its black cord over the […]...