Blake’s Sunflower

Related poetry:

1. Sunflower Sutra I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock and sat down under the huge shade of a Southern Pacific locomotive to look at the sunset over the box house hills and cry. Jack Kerouac sat beside me on a busted rusty iron pole, companion, we thought the same thoughts of the soul, bleak […]...
2. Mad Blake Blake saw a treeful of angels at Peckham Rye, And his hands could lay hold on the tiger’s terrible heart. Blake knew how deep is Hell, and Heaven how high, And could build the universe from one tiny part. Blake heard the asides of God, as with furrowed brow He sifts the star-streams between the […]...
3. Rules and Regulations A short direction To avoid dejection, By variations In occupations, And prolongation Of relaxation, And combinations Of recreations, And disputation On the state of the nation In adaptation To your station, By invitations To friends and relations, By evitation Of amputation, By permutation In conversation, And deep reflection You’ll avoid dejection. Learn well your grammar, […]...
4. Invocation Rarely, rarely, comest thou, Spirit of Delight! Wherefore hast thou left me now Many a day and night? Many a weary night and day ‘Tis since thou art fled away. How shall ever one like me Win thee back again? With the joyous and the free Thou wilt scoff at pain. Spirit false! thou hast […]...
5. Song Rarely, rarely comest thou, Spirit of Delight! Wherefore hast thou left me now Many a day and night? Many a weary night and day ‘Tis since thou art fled away. How shall ever one like me Win thee back again? With the joyous and the free Thou wilt scoff at pain. Spirit false! thou hast […]...
6. Song: Rarely, rarely, comest thou Rarely, rarely, comest thou, Spirit of Delight! Wherefore hast thou left me now Many a day and night? Many a weary night and day ‘Tis since thou are fled away. How shall ever one like me Win thee back again? With the joyous and the free Thou wilt scoff at pain. Spirit false! thou hast […]...
7. 373. Song-The Slave's Lament IT was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthral, For the lands of Virginia,-ginia, O: Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more; And alas! I am weary, weary O: Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more; And alas! I am weary, weary O. All on […]...
8. When Klopstock England Defied When Klopstock England defied, Uprose William Blake in his pride; For old Nobodaddy aloft . . . and belch’d and cough’d; Then swore a great oath that made Heaven quake, And call’d aloud to English Blake. Blake was giving his body ease, At Lambeth beneath the poplar trees. From his seat then started he And […]...
9. 1914 IV: The Dead These hearts were woven of human joys and cares, Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth. The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs, And sunset, and the colours of the earth. These had seen movement, and heard music; known Slumber and waking; loved; gone proudly friended; Felt the quick stir of wonder; sat […]...
10. Psalm IV Now I’ll record my secret vision, impossible sight of the face of God: It was no dream, I lay broad waking on a fabulous couch in Harlem Having masturbated for no love, and read half naked an open book of Blake on my lap Lo & behold! I was thoughtless and turned a page and […]...
11. The Last Parade With never a sound of trumpet, With never a flag displayed, The last of the old campaigners Lined up for the last parade. Weary they were and battered, Shoeless, and knocked about; From under their ragged forelocks Their hungry eyes looked out. And they watched as the old commander Read out to the cheering men […]...
12. Sardis (Revelations, iii. 1-6) “Write to Sardis,” saith the Lord, “And write what He declares, He whose Spirit, and whose word, Upholds the seven stars: All thy works and ways I search, Find thy zeal and love decay’d; Thou art call’d a living church, But thou art cold and dead. “Watch, remember, seek, and strive, Exert […]...
13. The Sign-Post The dim sea glints chill. The white sun is shy, And the skeleton weeds and the never-dry, Rough, long grasses keep white with frost At the hill-top by the finger-post; The smoke of the traveller’s-joy is puffed Over hawthorn berry and hazel tuft. I read the sign. Which way shall I go? A voice says: […]...
14. 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 […]...
15. Between Hurricanes As we slide into the 3rd world we have created, Running from hurricanes, With our SS# indelibly inked on our arms Storms swell and swallow our control. I am flooded with life review, The beliefs of my youth. I reach for my first Bible Which has survived every move. I am mystified by Revelation’s Hallucinations […]...
16. Colors Passing Through Us Purple as tulips in May, mauve Into lush velvet, purple As the stain blackberries leave On the lips, on the hands, The purple of ripe grapes Sunlit and warm as flesh. Every day I will give you a color, Like a new flower in a bud vase On your desk. Every day I will paint […]...
17. 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 […]...
18. "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 […]...
19. It came at last but prompter Death It came at last but prompter Death Had occupied the House His pallid Furniture arranged And his metallic Peace Oh faithful Frost that kept the Date Had Love as punctual been Delight had aggrandized the Gate And blocked the coming in....
20. You love the Lord you cannot see You love the Lord you cannot see You write Him every day A little note when you awake And further in the Day. An Ample Letter How you miss And would delight to see But then His House is but a Step And Mine’s in Heaven You see....
21. 366. Song-The weary Pund o' Tow Chorus.-The weary pund, the weary pund, The weary pund o’ tow; I think my wife will end her life, Before she spin her tow. I BOUGHT my wife a stane o’ lint, As gude as e’er did grow, And a’ that she has made o’ that Is ae puir pund o’ tow. The weary pund, […]...
22. Andy's Gone With Cattle Our Andy’s gone to battle now ‘Gainst Drought, the red marauder; Our Andy’s gone with cattle now Across the Queensland border. He’s left us in dejection now; Our hearts with him are roving. It’s dull on this selection now, Since Andy went a-droving. Who now shall wear the cheerful face In times when things are […]...
23. By the Spring, at Sunset Sometimes we remember kisses, Remember the dear heart-leap when they came: Not always, but sometimes we remember The kindness, the dumbness, the good flame Of laughter and farewell. Beside the road Afar from those who said “Good-by” I write, Far from my city task, my lawful load. Sun in my face, wind beside my shoulder, […]...
24. A Letter to Her Husband Absent upon Public Employment My head, my heart, mine eyes, my life, nay more, My joy, my magazine, of earthly store, If two be one, as surely thou and I, How stayest thou there, whilst I at Ipswich lie? So many steps, head from the heart to sever, If but a neck, soon should we […]...
25. Mother, Summer, I My mother, who hates thunder storms, Holds up each summer day and shakes It out suspiciously, lest swarms Of grape-dark clouds are lurking there; But when the August weather breaks And rains begin, and brittle frost Sharpens the bird-abandoned air, Her worried summer look is lost, And I her son, though summer-born And summer-loving, none […]...
26. Careers Father is quite the greatest poet That ever lived anywhere. You say you’re going to write great music – I chose that first: it’s unfair. Besides, now I can’t be the greatest painter and do Christ and angels, or lovely pears and apples and grapes on a green dish, or storms at sea, or anything […]...
27. Equanimity october stops the pretence That somehow summer Should still be loitering around It walks through the garden Hanging the spiders up Between fences and flowers It throws rather more dew On the ground than is Good for the shoes and then Has the nerve to let on Frost is sniffing its way Southwards – some […]...
28. Affinity YOU and I have found the secret way, None can bar our love or say us nay: All the world may stare and never know You and I are twined together so. You and I for all his vaunted width Know the giant Space is but a myth; Over miles and miles of pure deceit […]...
29. An Address to the Rev. George Gilfillan All hail to the Rev. George Gilfillan of Dundee, He is the greatest preacher I did ever hear or see. He is a man of genius bright, And in him his congregation does delight, Because they find him to be honest and plain, Affable in temper, and seldom known to complain. He preaches in a […]...
30. 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...
31. Dreams Are Best I just think that dreams are best, Just to sit and fancy things; Give your gold no acid test, Try not how your silver rings; Fancy women pure and good, Fancy men upright and true: Fortressed in your solitude, Let Life be a dream to you. For I think that Thought is all; Truth’s a […]...
32. 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...
33. Being Me! Wild are my ways, wilder than you think You will find me standing a little left of frame You will find me a little away from the meeting place I am that and much more, insignificant me. Yes I am the one with the faraway look Of sailors of vast dreamy oceans I look at […]...
34. Wisteria The first purple wisteria I recall from boyhood hung On a wire outside the windows Of the breakfast room next door At the home of Steve Pisaris. I loved his tall, skinny daughter, Or so I thought, and I would wait Beside the back door, prostrate, Begging to be taken in. Perhaps It was only […]...
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. Symptom Recital I do not like my state of mind; I’m bitter, querulous, unkind. I hate my legs, I hate my hands, I do not yearn for lovelier lands. I dread the dawn’s recurrent light; I hate to go to bed at night. I snoot at simple, earnest folk. I cannot take the gentlest joke. I find […]...
37. 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!...
38. The Argument Of His Book I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July-flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes. I write of youth, of love, and have access By these to sing of cleanly wantonness. I sing of dews, of rains, and piece by […]...
39. The Man In The Dead Machine High on a slope in New Guinea The Grumman Hellcat Lodges among bright vines As thick as arms. In 1943, The clenched hand of a pilot Glided it here Where no one has ever been. In the cockpit, the helmeted Skeleton sits Upright, held By dry sinews at neck And shoulder, and webbing That straps […]...
40. 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...