For Ariva

Related poetry:

1. Haroun Al Raschid One day, Haroun Al Raschid read A book wherein the poet said: “Where are the kings, and where the rest Of those who once the world possessed? “They’re gone with all their pomp and show, They’re gone the way that thou shalt go. “O thou who choosest for thy share The world, and what the […]...
2. Carbonara eyes Nicky said I couldn’t write, she’s got a charming Sense of social etiquette – given she’s a bitch (the canine sort, can’t spell for shit or even write A word) but then she has the most expressive eyes. So what she said was no surprise, she’d heard My lamentations, licked my hands, rested forepaws On […]...
3. Take Back the Virgin Page Written on Returning a Blank Book Take back the virgin page, White and unwritten still; Some hand, more calm and sage, The leaf must fill. Thoughts come, as pure as light Pure as even you require; But, oh! each word I write Love turns to fire. Yet let me keep the book: Oft shall my […]...
4. The Companion Let him answer as he will, Or be lightsome as he may, Now nor after shall he say Worn-out words enough to kill, Or to lull down by their craft, Doubt, that was born yesterday, When he lied and when she laughed. Let him and another name For the starlight on the snow, Let him […]...
5. 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 […]...
6. Sorrow SORROW, on wing through the world for ever, Here and there for awhile would borrow Rest, if rest might haply deliver Sorrow. One thought lies close in her heart gnawn thorough With pain, a weed in a dried-up river, A rust-red share in an empty furrow. Hearts that strain at her chain would sever The […]...
7. Sonnet XXI So is it not with me as with that Muse Stirr’d by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven itself for ornament doth use And every fair with his fair doth rehearse Making a couplement of proud compare, With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems, With April’s first-born flowers, and all […]...
8. There Are Not Many Kingdoms Left I write the lips of the moon upon her shoulders. In a Temple of silvery farawayness I guard her to rest. For her bed I write a stillness over all the swans of the World. With the morning breath of the snow leopard I Cover her against any hurt. Using the pen of rivers and […]...
9. Ended, ere it begun Ended, ere it begun The Title was scarcely told When the Preface perished from Consciousness The Story, unrevealed Had it been mine, to print! Had it been yours, to read! That it was not Our privilege The interdict of God...
10. Sonnet 21: So is it not with me as with that muse So is it not with me as with that muse, Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven it self for ornament doth use And every fair with his fair doth rehearse, Making a couplement of proud compare With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems, With April’s first-born flowers, and […]...
11. The End of the World Here, at the end of the world, The flowers bleed As if they were hearts, The hearts ooze a darkness Like india ink, & poets dip their pens in & they write. “Here, at the end of the world,” They write, Not knowing what it means. “Here, where the sky nurses on black milk, Where […]...
12. Cheer It’s a mighty good world, so it is, dear lass, When even the worst is said. There’s a smile and a tear, a sigh and a cheer, But better be living than dead; A joy and a pain, a loss and a gain; There’s honey and may be some gall: Yet still I declare, foul […]...
13. The Riddle of the World Know then thyself, presume not God to scan The proper study of Mankind is Man. Placed on this isthmus of a middle state, A Being darkly wise, and rudely great: With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side, With too much weakness for the Stoic’s pride, He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest; […]...
14. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? (Sonnet 18) Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines, And often is his gold complexion dimmed; And every fair from fair sometime declines, […]...
15. Vickery's Mountain Blue in the west the mountain stands, And through the long twilight Vickery sits with folded hands, And Vickery’s eyes are bright. Bright, for he knows what no man else On earth as yet may know: There’s a golden word that he never tells, And a gift that he will not show. He dreams of […]...
16. To a Child of Quality, Five Years Old, 1704. The Author then Forty LORDS, knights, and squires, the numerous band That wear the fair Miss Mary’s fetters, Were summoned by her high command To show their passions by their letters. My pen amongst the rest I took, Lest those bright eyes, that cannot read, Should dart their kindling fire, and look The power they have to be obey’d. […]...
17. The Mole Said he: “I’ll dive deep in the Past, And write a book of direful days When summer skies were overcast With smoke of humble hearths ablaze; When War was rampant in the land, And poor folk cowered in the night, While ruin gaped on every hand – Of ravishing and wrath I’ll write.” Ten years […]...
18. Willard Fluke My wife lost her health, And dwindled until she weighed scarce ninety pounds. Then that woman, whom the men Styled Cleopatra, came along. And we we married ones All broke our vows, myself among the rest. Years passed and one by one Death claimed them all in some hideous form, And I was borne along […]...
19. Lines in Praise of Mr. J. Graham Henderson, Hawick Success to Mr J. Graham Henderson, who is a good man, And to gainsay it there’s few people can, I say so from my own experience, And experience is a great defence. He is a good man, I venture to say, Which I declare to the world without dismay, Because he’s given me a suit […]...
20. Assurances I NEED no assurances-I am a man who is preoccupied, of his own Soul; I do not doubt that from under the feet, and beside the hands and face I am cognizant of, are now looking faces I am not cognizant of-calm and actual faces; I do not doubt but the majesty and beauty of […]...
21. Llewellyn and the Tree Could he have made Priscilla share The paradise that he had planned, Llewellyn would have loved his wife As well as any in the land. Could he have made Priscilla cease To goad him for what God left out, Llewellyn would have been as mild As any we have read about. Could all have been […]...
22. Each small gleam was a voice Each small gleam was a voice, A lantern voice In little songs of carmine, violet, green, gold. A chorus of colours came over the water; The wondrous leaf-shadow no longer wavered, No pines crooned on the hills, The blue night was elsewhere a silence, When the chorus of colours came over the water, Little songs […]...
23. Love is enough LOVE is enough: though the World be a-waning, And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining, Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder, Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder, And this day draw a veil […]...
24. Song I: Though the World Be A-Waning Love is enough: though the World be a-waning And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining, Though the sky be too dark for dim eyes to discover The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder, Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder, And this day draw a veil […]...
25. THE MINER BEETLING rock, with roar and smoke Break before my hammer-stroke! Deeper I must thrust and lower Till I hear the ring of ore. From the mountain’s unplumbed night, Deep amid the gold-veins bright, Diamonds lure me, rubies beckon, Treasure-hoard that none may reckon. There is peace within the deep Peace and immemorial sleep; Heavy hammer, […]...
26. "I Love You Sweatheart&quot A man risked his life to write the words. A man hung upside down (an idiot friend Holding his legs?) with spray paint To write the words on a girder fifty feet above A highway. And his beloved, The next morning driving to work…? His words are not (meant to be) so unique. Does she […]...
27. A Dialogue Between the Resolved Soul, And Created Pleasure Courage my Soul, now learn to wield The weight of thine immortal Shield. Close on thy Head thy Helmet bright. Ballance thy Sword against the Fight. See where an Army, strong as fair, With silken Banners spreads the air. Now, if thou bee’st that thing Divine, In this day’s Combat let it shine: And shew […]...
28. Renunciation Chloe’s hair, no doubt, was brighter; Lydia’s mouth more sweetly sad; Hebe’s arms were rather whiter; Languorous-lidded Helen had Eyes more blue than e’er the sky was; Lalage’s was subtler stuff; Still, you used to think that I was Fair enough. Now you’re casting yearning glances At the pale Penelope; Cutting in on Claudia’s dances; […]...
29. Love is Enough Love is enough. Let us not ask for gold. Wealth breeds false aims, and pride and selfishness; In those serene, Arcadian days of old Men gave no thought to princely homes and dress. The gods who dwelt on fair Olympia’s height Lived only for dear love and love’s delight. Love is enough. Love is enough. […]...
30. PUBLISHERS And then they pretend like owls With marble eyes and wizened stupidity I do not know why they cannot perceive True art But I will write Until sand evaporates And the moon consumes the sun I will write Even for the sake of art For myself and for those who feel Reading could lift them […]...
31. Sonnet 81 Fair is my love, when her fair golden hears With the loose wind the waving chance to mark: Fair when the rose in her red cheeks appears, Or in her eyes the fire of love does spark. Fair when her breast like a rich laden bark With precious merchandise she forth doth lay: Fair when […]...
32. Caput Mortuum Not even if with a wizard force I might Have summoned whomsoever I would name, Should anyone else have come than he who came, Uncalled, to share with me my fire that night; For though I should have said that all was right, Or right enough, nothing had been the same As when I found […]...
33. My Book Before I drink myself to death, God, let me finish up my Book! At night, I fear, I fight for breath, And wake up whiter than a spook; And crawl off to a bistro near, And drink until my brain is clear. Rare Absinthe! Oh, it gives me strength To write and write; and so […]...
34. MACTAVISH I do not write for love of pelf, Nor lust for phantom fame; I do not rhyme to please myself, Nor yet to win acclaim: No, strange to say it is my plan, What gifts I have, to lavish Upon a simple working man MACTAVISH. For that’s the rather smeary name, Of dreary toil a […]...
35. Amoretti LXXIX: Men Call you Fair Men call you fair, and you do credit it, For that your self ye daily such do see: But the true fair, that is the gentle wit, And vertuous mind, is much more prais’d of me. For all the rest, how ever fair it be, Shall turn to naught and lose that glorious hue: But […]...
36. Golden Days Another day of toil and strife, Another page so white, Within that fateful Log of Life That I and all must write; Another page without a stain To make of as I may, That done, I shall not see again Until the Judgment Day. Ah, could I, could I backward turn The pages of that […]...
37. Little World Children – are staring of eyes so frightful, Mischievous legs on a wooden floor, Children – is sun in the gloomy motives, Hypotheses’ of happy sciences world. Eternal disorder in the ring’s gold, Tender word’s whispers in semi-sleep, On the wall in a cozy child’s room, the dreaming Peaceful pictures of birds and sheep. Children […]...
38. Dilemma If I were mild, and I were sweet, And laid my heart before your feet, And took my dearest thoughts to you, And hailed your easy lies as true; Were I to murmur “Yes,” and then “How true, my dear,” and “Yes,” again, And wear my eyes discreetly down, And tremble whitely at your frown, […]...
39. Wilful Missing (Deserters) There is a world outside the one you know, To which for curiousness ‘Ell can’t compare It is the place where “wilful-missings” go, As we can testify, for we are there. You may ‘ave read a bullet laid us low, That we was gathered in “with reverent care” And buried proper. But it was […]...
40. In the Womb STILL rests the heavy share on the dark soil: Upon the black mould thick the dew-damp lies: The horse waits patient: from his lowly toil The ploughboy to the morning lifts his eyes. The unbudding hedgerows dark against day’s fires Glitter with gold-lit crystals: on the rim Over the unregarding city’s spires The lonely beauty […]...