His Feet are shod with Gauze

Related poetry:

1. Your Feet When I cannot look at your face I look at your feet. Your feet of arched bone, Your hard little feet. I know that they support you, And that your sweet weight Rises upon them. Your waist and your breasts, The doubled purple Of your nipples, The sockets of your eyes That have just flown […]...
2. I could not prove the Years had feet I could not prove the Years had feet Yet confident they run Am I, from symptoms that are past And Series that are done I find my feet have further Goals I smile upon the Aims That felt so ample Yesterday Today’s have vaster claims I do not doubt the self I was Was competent […]...
3. Four-Feet “THE WOMAN IN HIS LIFE” I have done mostly what most men do, And pushed it out of my mind; But I can’t forget, if I wanted to, Four-Feet trotting behind. Day after day, the whole day through Wherever my road inclined Four-feet said, “I am coming with you!” And trotted along behind. Now I […]...
4. We Bee and I live by the quaffing We Bee and I live by the quaffing ‘Tisn’t all Hock with us Life has its Ale But it’s many a lay of the Dim Burgundy We chant for cheer when the Wines fail Do we “get drunk”? Ask the jolly Clovers! Do we “beat” our “Wife”? I never wed Bee pledges his in minute […]...
5. New feet within my garden go New feet within my garden go New fingers stir the sod A Troubadour upon the Elm Betrays the solitude. New children play upon the green New Weary sleep below And still the pensive Spring returns And still the punctual snow!...
6. From Cocoon forth a Butterfly From Cocoon forth a Butterfly As Lady from her Door Emerged a Summer Afternoon Repairing Everywhere Without Design that I could trace Except to stray abroad On Miscellaneous Enterprise The Clovers understood Her pretty Parasol be seen Contracting in a Field Where Men made Hay Then struggling hard With an opposing Cloud Where Parties Phantom […]...
7. Six Feet Of Sod This is the end of all my ways, My wanderings on earth, My gloomy and my golden days, My madness and my mirth. I’ve bought ten thousand blades of grass To bed me down below, And here I wait the days to pass Until I go. Until I bid good bye to friend, To feast […]...
8. At Feet Of Dogs At my feet the lapdogs of desire, I wont greet their fawning, least not yet, Their foul breath would shrink a haemorroid, Perhaps I’ll feed them oats with garlic Instead. I fed their need for family, I recognised each one and said I loved them. Unconditionally. Was I wrong? I cannot say they loved me […]...
9. A fuzzy fellow, without feet A fuzzy fellow, without feet, Yet doth exceeding run! Of velvet, is his Countenance, And his Complexion, dun! Sometime, he dwelleth in the grass! Sometime, upon a bough, From which he doth descend in plush Upon the Passer-by! All this in summer. But when winds alarm the Forest Folk, He taketh Damask Residence And struts […]...
10. How many times these low feet staggered How many times these low feet staggered Only the soldered mouth can tell Try can you stir the awful rivet Try can you lift the hasps of steel! Stroke the cool forehead hot so often Lift if you care the listless hair Handle the adamantine fingers Never a thimble more shall wear Buzz the dull […]...
11. The feet of people walking home The feet of people walking home With gayer sandals go The Crocus til she rises The Vassal of the snow The lips at Hallelujah Long years of practise bore Til bye and bye these Bargemen Walked singing on the shore. Pearls are the Diver’s farthings Extorted from the Sea Pinions the Seraph’s wagon Pedestrian once […]...
12. Reading Moby-Dick at 30,000 Feet At this height, Kansas Is just a concept, A checkerboard design of wheat and corn No larger than the foldout section Of my neighbor’s travel magazine. At this stage of the journey I would estimate the distance Between myself and my own feelings Is roughly the same as the mileage From Seattle to New York, […]...
13. Because My Faltering Feet Because my faltering feet may fail to dare The first descendant of the steps of Hell Give me the Word in time that triumphs there. I too must pass into the misty hollow Where all our living laughter stops: and hark! The tiny stuffless voices of the dark Have called me, called me, till I […]...
14. From Milton: And did those feet And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England’s mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God On England’s pleasant pastures seen? And did the Countenance Divine Shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem builded here, Among these dark Satanic Mills? Bring me my Bow of burning gold: Bring me my […]...
15. And Did Those Feet In Ancient Time And did those feet in ancient time Walk upon England’s mountains green? And was the holy Lamb of God On England’s pleasant pastures seen? And did the Countenance Divine Shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jerusalem builded here Among these dark satanic mills? Bring me my bow of burning gold! Bring me my […]...
16. 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 […]...
17. New Feet EMPTY battlefields keep their phantoms. Grass crawls over old gun wheels And a nodding Canada thistle flings a purple Into the summer’s southwest wind, Wrapping a root in the rust of a bayonet, Reaching a blossom in rust of shrapnel....
18. Metrical Feet Trochee trips from long to short; From long to long in solemn sort Slow Spondee stalks, strong foot!, yet ill able Ever to come up with Dactyl’s trisyllable. Iambics march from short to long. With a leap and a bound the swift Anapests throng. One syllable long, with one short at each side, Amphibrachys hastes […]...
19. Sandpipers Sandland where the salt water kills the sweet potatoes. Homes for sandpipers-the script of their feet is on the sea shingles-they write in the morning, it is gone at noon-they write at noon, it is gone at night. Pity the land, the sea, the ten mile flats, pity anything but the sandpiper’s wire legs and […]...
20. I stepped from Plank to Plank I stepped from Plank to Plank A slow and cautious way The Stars about my Head I felt About my Feet the Sea. I knew not but the next Would be my final inch This gave me that precarious Gait Some call Experience....
21. The Wind didn't come from the Orchard today The Wind didn’t come from the Orchard today Further than that Nor stop to play with the Hay Nor joggle a Hat He’s a transitive fellow very Rely on that If He leave a Bur at the door We know He has climbed a Fir But the Fir is Where Declare Were you ever there? […]...
22. 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...
23. THE MUSES' SON [Goethe quotes the beginning of this song in His Autobiography, as expressing the manner in which his poetical Effusions used to pour out from him.] THROUGH field and wood to stray, And pipe my tuneful lay, ‘Tis thus my days are pass’d; And all keep tune with me, And move in harmony, And so on, […]...
24. Said The Poet To The Analyst My business is words. Words are like labels, Or coins, or better, like swarming bees. I confess I am only broken by the sources of things; As if words were counted like dead bees in the attic, Unbuckled from their yellow eyes and their dry wings. I must always forget who one words is able […]...
25. 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...
26. My Bees: An Allegory “O bees, sweet bees!” I said, “that nearest field Is shining white with fragrant immortelles. Fly swiftly there and drain those honey wells.” Then, spicy pines the sunny hive to shield, I set, and patient for the autumn’s yield Of sweet I waited. When the village bells Rang frosty clear, and from their satin cells […]...
27. From Citron-Bower From citron-bower be her bed, Cut from branch of tree a-flower, Fashioned for her maidenhead. From Lydian apples, sweet of hue, Cut the width of board and lathe, Carve the feet from myrtle-wood. Let the palings of her bed Be quince and box-wood overlaid With the scented bark of yew. That all the wood in […]...
28. 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 […]...
29. Psalm 118 part 1 v.6-15 C. M. Deliverance from a tumult. The Lord appears my helper now, Nor is my faith afraid What all the sons of earth can do, Since heav’n affords its aid. ‘Tis safer, Lord, to hope in thee, And have my God my friend, Than trust in men of high degree, And on their truth […]...
30. 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!...
31. 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...
32. Of all the Sounds despatched abroad Of all the Sounds despatched abroad, There’s not a Charge to me Like that old measure in the Boughs That phraseless Melody The Wind does working like a Hand, Whose fingers Comb the Sky Then quiver down with tufts of Tune Permitted Gods, and me Inheritance, it is, to us Beyond the Art to Earn […]...
33. I think I was enchanted I think I was enchanted When first a sombre Girl I read that Foreign Lady The Dark felt beautiful And whether it was noon at night Or only Heaven at Noon For very Lunacy of Light I had not power to tell The Bees became as Butterflies The Butterflies as Swans Approached and spurned the […]...
34. I did not reach Thee I did not reach Thee But my feet slip nearer every day Three Rivers and a Hill to cross One Desert and a Sea I shall not count the journey one When I am telling thee. Two deserts, but the Year is cold So that will help the sand One desert crossed The second one […]...
35. In Tall Grass BEES and a honeycomb in the dried head of a horse in a pasture corner-a skull in the tall grass and a buzz and a buzz of the yellow honey-hunters. And I ask no better a winding sheet (over the earth and under the sun.) Let the bees go honey-hunting with yellow blur of wings […]...
36. His little Hearse like Figure His little Hearse like Figure Unto itself a Dirge To a delusive Lilac The vanity divulge Of Industry and Morals And every righteous thing For the divine Perdition Of Idleness and Spring...
37. It will be Summer eventually It will be Summer eventually. Ladies with parasols Sauntering Gentlemen with Canes And little Girls with Dolls Will tint the pallid landscape As ’twere a bright Bouquet Thro’ drifted deep, in Parian The Village lies today The Lilacs bending many a year Will sway with purple load The Bees will not despise the tune Their […]...
38. Better than Music! For I who heard it Better than Music! For I who heard it I was used to the Birds before This was different ‘Twas Translation Of all tunes I knew and more ‘Twasn’t contained like other stanza No one could play it the second time But the Composer perfect Mozart Perish with him that Keyless Rhyme! So Children told how […]...
39. 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 […]...
40. Bee-attitudes in the shadow Of the flower Is the sting The bee driven by need Uses its painful gift To keep its sense of beauty In proportion It does its job with A thoughtless dedication Its honeyed world Excites no inner space Bees are not poets Who wade through words With too much brain Around their […]...