Ideals

Related poetry:

1. The Ideals And wilt thou, faithless one, then, leave me, With all thy magic phantasy, With all the thoughts that joy or grieve me, Wilt thou with all forever fly? Can naught delay thine onward motion, Thou golden time of life’s young dream? In vain! eternity’s wide ocean Ceaselessly drowns thy rolling stream. The glorious suns my […]...
2. These are the Signs to Nature's Inns These are the Signs to Nature’s Inns Her invitation broad To Whosoever famishing To taste her mystic Bread These are the rites of Nature’s House The Hospitality That opens with an equal width To Beggar and to Bee For Sureties of her staunch Estate Her undecaying Cheer The Purple in the East is set And […]...
3. First Sight Lambs that learn to walk in snow When their bleating clouds the air Meet a vast unwelcome, know Nothing but a sunless glare. Newly stumbling to and fro All they find, outside the fold, Is a wretched width of cold. As they wait beside the ewe, Her fleeces wetly caked, there lies Hidden round them, […]...
4. A March Snow Let the old snow be covered with the new: The trampled snow, so soiled, and stained, and sodden. Let it be hidden wholly from our view By pure white flakes, all trackless and untrodden. When Winter dies, low at the sweet Spring’s feet Let him be mantled in a clean, white sheet. Let the old […]...
5. Psalm Three On the day when my words Were earth… I was a friend to stalks of wheat. On the day when my words Were wrath I was a friend to chains. On the day when my words Were stones I was a friend to streams. On the day when my words Were a rebellion I was […]...
6. How the Waters closed above Him How the Waters closed above Him We shall never know How He stretched His Anguish to us That is covered too Spreads the Pond Her Base of Lilies Bold above the Boy Whose unclaimed Hat and Jacket Sum the History...
7. Excelsior WHO has gone farthest? For lo! have not I gone farther? And who has been just? For I would be the most just person of the earth; And who most cautious? For I would be more cautious; And who has been happiest? O I think it is I! I think no one was ever happier […]...
8. Marine Snow At Mid-Depths And Down As you descend, slowly, falling faster past You this snow, Ghostly, some flakes bio- Luminescent (you plunge, And this lit snow doesn’t land At your feet but keeps falling below You): single-cell-plant chains, shreds Of zooplankton’s mucus food traps, Fish fecal pellets, radioactive fallouts, Sand grains, pollen….And inside These jagged falling islands Live more microlives, […]...
9. To Waken An Old Lady Old age is A flight of small Cheeping birds Skimming Bare trees Above a snow glaze. Gaining and failing They are buffeted By a dark wind- But what? On harsh weedstalks The flock has rested- The snow Is covered with broken Seed husks And the wind tempered With a shrill Piping of plenty....
10. Tears Hang on Her Eyes tears hang on her eyes The ones on the left Fearing the stertorus night sky The ones on the right Imbued with thoughts Of her faraway mom...
11. Milkweed Remember how unimportant They seemed, growing loosely In the open fields we crossed On the way to school. We Would carve wooden swords And slash at the luscious trunks Until the white milk started And then flowed. Then we’d Go on to the long day After day of the History of History Or the tables […]...
12. Desert Places Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast In a field I looked into going past, And the ground almost covered smooth in snow, But a few weeds and stubble showing last. The woods around it have it-it is theirs. All animals are smothered in their lairs. I am too absent-spirited to count; The loneliness […]...
13. 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 […]...
14. 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 […]...
15. Robert Southey Burke I spent my money trying to elect you Mayor A. D. Blood. I lavished my admiration upon you, You were to my mind the almost perfect man. You devoured my personality, And the idealism of my youth, And the strength of a high-souled fealty. And all my hopes for the world, And all my beliefs […]...
16. Answer THE WARMTH of life is quenched with bitter frost; Upon the lonely road a child limps by Skirting the frozen pools: our way is lost: Our hearts sink utterly. But from the snow-patched moorland chill and drear, Lifting our eyes beyond the spirëd height, With white-fire lips apart the dawn breathes clear Its soundless hymn […]...
17. I cannot be ashamed I cannot be ashamed Because I cannot see The love you offer Magnitude Reverses Modesty And I cannot be proud Because a Height so high Involves Alpine Requirements And Services of Snow....
18. She Tells Her Love She tells her love while half asleep, In the dark hours, With half-words whispered low: As Earth stirs in her winter sleep And put out grass and flowers Despite the snow, Despite the falling snow....
19. Peter Strong and slippery, Built for the midnight grass-party Confronted by four cats, he sleeps his time away The detached first claw on the foreleg corresponding To the thumb, retracted to its tip; the small tuft of fronds Or katydid-legs above each eye numbering all units In each group; the shadbones regularly set about the mouth […]...
20. 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 […]...
21. Tцrnfallet There is a meadow in Sweden Where I lie smitten, Eyes stained with clouds’ White ins and outs. And about that meadow Roams my widow Plaiting a clover Wreath for her lover. I took her in marriage In a granite parish. The snow lent her whiteness, A pine was a witness. She’d swim in the […]...
22. On A Palmetto Through all that year-scarred agony of height, Unblest of bough or bloom, to where expands His wandy circlet with his bladed bands Dividing every wind, or loud or light, To termless hymns of love and old despite, Yon tall palmetto in the twilight stands, Bare Dante of these purgatorial sands That glimmer marginal to the […]...
23. 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...
24. 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...
25. Israfel In Heaven a spirit doth dwell “Whose heart-strings are a lute”; None sing so wildly well As the angel Israfel, And the giddy stars (so legends tell), Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell Of his voice, all mute. Tottering above In her highest noon, The enamored moon Blushes with love, While, to listen, the red […]...
26. A Historical Breakfast A man is bringing a cup of coffee to his face, Tilting it to his mouth. It’s historical, he thinks. He scratches his head: another historical event. He really ought to rest, he’s making an awful lot of History this morning. Oh my, now he’s buttering toast, another piece of History is being made. He […]...
27. 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 […]...
28. The end The savour of fruits Still remains In my mouth, But the bitterness of words Demolishes the clouds And wrings the snow Counting the pebbles. But you never told me Why you deceived me, Why with pain And injustice did you desire To say that the end Always in tears Is cast to flames....
29. I Don't Know If History Repeats Itself I don’t Know if history repeats itself But I do know that you don’t. I remember that city was didvided Not only between Jews and Arabs, But Between me and you, When we were there together. We made ourselves a womb of dangers We built ourselves a house of deadening wars Like men of far […]...
30. Meeting For Michael Hamburger Barn owl Daughter of snow, Subject to the night wind, Yet taking root With her talons In the rotten scab of walls, Beak face With round eyes, Heart-rigid mask Of feathers a white fire That touches neither time nor space. Coldly the wind blows Against the old homestead, In the yard pale […]...
31. Grey Evening When you went, how was it you carried with you My missal book of fine, flamboyant hours? My book of turrets and of red-thorn bowers, And skies of gold, and ladies in bright tissue? Now underneath a blue-grey twilight, heaped Beyond the withering snow of the shorn fields Stands rubble of stunted houses; all is […]...
32. 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!...
33. 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 […]...
34. PLEA FOR A HISTORY OF WORKING-CLASS LEEDS I want a true history of my city FUCK THE DE LACY FAMILY AND DOUBLE FUCK JOHN OF GAUNT ESPECIALLY And all his descendants With their particular vilenesses – I met one in the sixties Who had all the coldness of Himmler So svelte and adored by the cognoscenti. I want a history responsive To […]...
35. Night Words after Juan Ramon A child wakens in a cold apartment. The windows are frosted. Outside he hears Words rising from the streets, words he cannot Understand, and then the semis gear down For the traffic light on Houston. He sleeps Again and dreams of another city On a high hill above a wide river Bathed […]...
36. No Man can compass a Despair No Man can compass a Despair As round a Goalless Road No faster than a Mile at once The Traveller proceed Unconscious of the Width Unconscious that the Sun Be setting on His progress So accurate the One At estimating Pain Whose own has just begun His ignorance the Angel That pilot Him along...
37. Salesmanship, With Half A Dram Of Tears Gripping the lectern, rocking it, searching The faces for the souls, for signs of heartfelt Mindfulness at work, I thought, as I recited Words I wrote in tears: instead of tears, If I had understood my father’s business, I could be selling men’s clothes. I could be Kneeling, complimenting someone at the bay Of mirrors, […]...
38. A Spiritual Woman Close your eyes, my love, let me make you blind; They have taught you to see Only a mean arithmetic on the face of things, A cunning algebra in the faces of men, And God like geometry Completing his circles, and working cleverly. I’ll kiss you over the eyes till I kiss you blind; If […]...
39. Neither Snow When all of a sudden the city air filled with snow, The distinguishable flakes Blowing sideways, Looked like krill Fleeing the maw of an advancing whale. At least they looked that way to me From the taxi window, And since I happened to be sitting That fading Sunday afternoon In the very center of the […]...
40. The Little Match Girl It was biting cold, and the falling snow, Which filled a poor little match girl’s heart with woe, Who was bareheaded and barefooted, as she went along the street, Crying, “Who’ll buy my matches? for I want pennies to buy some meat!” When she left home she had slippers on; But, alas! poor child, now […]...