Dow Kritt

Related poetry:

1. The Fall There was a man who found two leaves and came Indoors holding them out saying to his parents That he was a tree. To which they said then go into the yard and do Not grow in the living room as your roots may Ruin the carpet. He said I was fooling I am not […]...
2. Petropolis From a fearful height, a wandering light, But does a star glitter like this, crying? Transparent star, wandering light Your brother, Petropolis, is dying. From a fearful height, earthly dreams are alight, And a green star is crying. Oh star, if you are the brother of water and light, Your brother, Petropolis, is dying. A […]...
3. Samuel Gardner I who kept the greenhouse, Lover of trees and flowers, Oft in life saw this umbrageous elm, Measuring its generous branches with my eye, And listened to its rejoicing leaves Lovingly patting each other With sweet aeolian whispers. And well they might: For the roots had grown so wide and deep That the soil of […]...
4. Blow, Bugle, Blow THE splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O […]...
5. Song of the Little White Girl Cabbage tree, cabbage tree, what is the matter? Why are you shaking so? Why do you chatter? Because it is just a white baby you see, And it’s the black ones you like, cabbage tree? Cabbage tree, cabbage tree, you’re a strange fellow With your green hair and your legs browny-yellow. Wouldn’t you like to […]...
6. The Idealist Oh you who have daring deeds to tell! And you who have felt Ambition’s spell! Have you heard of the louse who longed to dwell In the golden hair of a queen? He sighed all day and he sighed all night, And no one could understand it quite, For the head of a slut is […]...
7. Lenten Flowers Primrose, anemone, bluebell, moss Grow in the Kingdom of the Cross And the ash-tree’s purple bud Dresses the spear that sheds his blood. With the thorns that pierce his brow Soft encircling petals grow For in each flower the secret lies Of the tree that crucifies. Garden by the water clear All must die who […]...
8. Conrad Siever Not in that wasted garden Where bodies are drawn into grass That feeds no flocks, and into evergreens That bear no fruit There where along the shaded walks Vain sighs are heard, And vainer dreams are dreamed Of close communion with departed souls But here under the apple tree I loved and watched and pruned […]...
9. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night. Good men, the […]...
10. On a Line from Valéry (The Gulf War) The whole green sky is dying. The last tree flares With a great burst of supernatural rose Under a canopy of poisonous airs. Could we imagine our return to prayers To end in time before time’s final throes, The green sky dying as the last tree flares? But we were young in judgement, old in […]...
11. In Memoriam A. H. H.: 2. Old Yew, which graspest at the sto Old Yew, which graspest at the stones That name the under-lying dead, Thy fibres net the dreamless head, Thy roots are wrapt about the bones. The seasons bring the flower again, And bring the firstling to the flock; And in the dusk of thee, the clock Beats out the little lives of men. O not […]...
12. A Girl The tree has entered my hands, The sap has ascended my arms, The tree has grown in my breast – Downward, The branches grow out of me, like arms. Tree you are, Moss you are, You are violets with wind above them. A child – so high – you are, And all this is folly […]...
13. On a Line From Valery (Gulf War) Tout le ciel vert se meurt Le dernier arbre brûle. The whole green sky is dying. The last tree flares With a great burst of supernatural rose Under a canopy of poisonous airs. Could we imagine our return to prayers To end in time before time’s final throes, The green sky dying as the last […]...
14. Dirge in Woods A wind sways the pines, And below Not a breath of wild air; Still as the mosses that glow On the flooring and over the lines Of the roots here and there. The pine-tree drops its dead; They are quiet, as under the sea. Overhead, overhead Rushes life in a race, As the clouds the […]...
15. The Dinkey Bird In an ocean, ‘way out yonder, (As all sapient people know) Is the land of Wonder-Wander, Whither children love to go; It’s their playing, romping, swinging, That give great joy to me While the Dinkey-Bird goes singing In the amfalula tree! There the gum-drops grow like cherries, And taffy’s thick as peas Caramels you pick […]...
16. For Him I Sing FOR him I sing, (As some perennial tree, out of its roots, the present on the past:) With time and space I him dilate-and fuse the immortal laws, To make himself, by them, the law unto himself....
17. 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 […]...
18. The Gold Key The speaker in this case Is a middle-aged witch, me- Tangled on my two great arms, My face in a book And my mouth wide, Ready to tell you a story or two. I have come to remind you, All of you: Alice, Samuel, Kurt, Eleanor, Jane, Brian, Maryel, All of you draw near. Alice, […]...
19. IMPOSSIBILITIES: TO HIS FRIEND My faithful friend, if you can see The fruit to grow up, or the tree; If you can see the colour come Into the blushing pear or plum; If you can see the water grow To cakes of ice, or flakes of snow; If you can see that drop of rain Lost in the wild […]...
20. Tree When the sun goes down I have my first drink Standing in the yard, Talking to my neighbor About the alder tree Rising between our houses, A lowly tree that prospered From our steady inattention And shot up quick as a weed To tower over our rooftops, Where it now brandishes A rich, luxuriant crown. […]...
21. Resolve Build on resolve, and not upon regret, The structure of thy future. Do not grope Among the shadows of old sins, but let Thine own soul’s light shine on the path of hope And dissipate the darkness. Waste no tears Upon the blotted record of lost years, But turn the leaf, and smile, oh! smile, […]...
22. Where The Creek Used To Run In ash-fine silt that spread like sand After the flood and before the wild weeds Claimed the old stream bed; Before thistle phalanxes sprang From the dying mud to invest hollows Between abandoned river stones; in affluent heat Of an endless summer of immature dreams; In a valley redolent with green and khaki hills We […]...
23. To Dorothy You are not beautiful, exactly. You are beautiful, inexactly. You let a weed grow by the mulberry And a mulberry grow by the house. So close, in the personal quiet Of a windy night, it brushes the wall And sweeps away the day till we sleep. A child said it, and it seemed true: “Things […]...
24. Waterfalls of Jack and a soft shoe shuffle The following is based on true events: (Part One) 493 guests were watching People searching their Gmail Flirting in chats, forums, MSN; Service changes, east coast raiders Just acquired 101,001 websites. 404 ERROR page not found Five hammers and a counterfeit shekel But I did sleep at a Holiday Inn Express In anticipation Of their […]...
25. Samuel Sewall Samuel Sewall, in a world of wigs, Flouted opinion in his personal hair; For foppery he gave not any figs, But in his right and honor took the air. Thus in his naked style, though well attired, He went forth in the city, or paid court To Madam Winthrop, whom he much admired, Most godly, […]...
26. Life What is our life? A play of passion, Our mirth the music of division, Our mother’s wombs the tiring-houses be, Where we are dressed for this short comedy. Heaven the judicious sharp spectator is, That sits and marks still who doth act amiss. Our graves that hide us from the setting sun Are like drawn […]...
27. The Admirations and Contempts of time The Admirations and Contempts of time Show justest through an Open Tomb The Dying as it were a Height Reorganizes Estimate And what We saw not We distinguish clear And mostly see not What We saw before ‘Tis Compound Vision Light enabling Light The Finite furnished With the Infinite Convex and Concave Witness Back toward […]...
28. On a Hill-top BEARDED with dewy grass the mountains thrust Their blackness high into the still grey light, Deepening to blue: far up the glimmering height In silver transience shines the starry dust. Silent the sheep about me; fleece by fleece They sleep and stir not: I with awe around Wander uncertain o’er the giant mound, A fire […]...
29. Russell Kincaid In the last spring I ever knew, In those last days, I sat in the forsaken orchard Where beyond fields of greenery shimmered The hills at Miller’s Ford; Just to muse on the apple tree With its ruined trunk and blasted branches, And shoots of green whose delicate blossoms Were sprinkled over the skeleton tangle, […]...
30. Nevertheless you’ve seen a strawberry That’s had a struggle; yet Was, where the fragments met, A hedgehog or a star- Fish for the multitude Of seeds. What better food Than apple seeds – the fruit Within the fruit – locked in Like counter-curved twin Hazelnuts? Frost that kills The little rubber-plant – Leaves of kok-sagyyz-stalks, can’t […]...
31. Marigolds With a fork drive Nature out, She will ever yet return; Hedge the flowerbed all about, Pull or stab or cut or burn, She will ever yet return. Look: the constant marigold Springs again from hidden roots. Baffled gardener, you behold New beginnings and new shoots Spring again from hidden roots. Pull or stab or […]...
32. The Wise Dead men are wisest, for they know How far the roots of flowers go, How long a seed must rot to grow. Dead men alone bear frost and rain On throbless heart and heatless brain, And feel no stir of joy or pain. Dead men alone are satiate; They sleep and dream and have no […]...
33. Who Said It Was Simple There are so many roots to the tree of anger That sometimes the branches shatter Before they bear. Sitting in Nedicks The women rally before they march Discussing the problematic girls They hire to make them free. An almost white counterman passes A waiting brother to serve them first And the ladies neither notice nor […]...
34. Convolvulus-age up the ladder and round the bend Age spirals like a convolvulus Its bells break into the light Catching breath with their beauty But how in the sightless earth Its roots work to a wise agenda For all the seasonal pleasures Sun and open air afford us We grow below more tightly (knowing squeezed into […]...
35. The Palm And The Pine From the German of Heine. In the far North stands a Pine-tree, lone, Upon a wintry height; It sleeps: around it snows have thrown A covering of white. It dreams forever of a Palm That, far i’ the Morning-land, Stands silent in a most sad calm Midst of the burning sand....
36. 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 […]...
37. The Spice-Tree This is the song The spice-tree sings: “Hunger and fire, Hunger and fire, Sky-born Beauty- Spice of desire,” Under the spice-tree Watch and wait, Burning maidens And lads that mate. The spice-tree spreads And its boughs come down Shadowing village and farm and town. And none can see But the pure of heart The great […]...
38. Ballad of the Old Cypress In front of the temple of Chu-ko Liang there is an old cypress. Its branches Are like green bronze; its roots like rocks; around its great girth of forty Spans its rimy bark withstands the washing of the rain. Its jet-colored top Rises two thousand feet to greet the sky. Prince and statesman have long […]...
39. The Two Trees Beloved, gaze in thine own heart, The holy tree is growing there; From joy the holy branches start, And all the trembling flowers they bear. The changing colours of its fruit Have dowered the stars with metry light; The surety of its hidden root Has planted quiet in the night; The shaking of its leafy […]...
40. Noblesse Oblige I hold it the duty of one who is gifted And specially dowered I all men’s sight, To know no rest till his life is lifted Fully up to his great gifts’ height. He must mould the man into rare completeness, For gems are only in gold refined. He must fashion his thoughts into perfect […]...