Sexton! My Master's sleeping here

Related poetry:

1. The Marionettes Of Distant Masters A pianist dreams that he’s hired by a wrecking company to Ruin a piano with his fingers. . . On the day of the piano wrecking concert, as he’s Dressing, he notices a butterfly annoying a flower in his window Box. He wonders if the police should be called. Then he thinks Maybe the butterfly […]...
2. The Old And The New Masters About suffering, about adoration, the old masters Disagree. When someone suffers, no one else eats Or walks or opens the window no one breathes As the sufferers watch the sufferer. In St. Sebastian Mourned by St. Irene The flame of one torch is the only light. All the eyes except the maidservant’s (she weeps And […]...
3. Drunken Memories Of Anne Sexton The first and last time I met My ex-lover Anne Sexton was at A protest poetry reading against Some anti-constitutional war in Asia When some academic son of a bitch, To test her reputation as a drunk, Gave her a beer glass full of wine After our reading. She drank It all down while staring […]...
4. Martha SEXTON! Martha’s dead and gone; Toll the bell! toll the bell! Her weary hands their labor cease; Good night, poor Martha, sleep in peace! Toll the bell! Sexton! Martha ‘s dead and gone; Toll the bell! toll the bell! For many a year has Martha said, “I’m old and poor, would I were dead!” Toll […]...
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. Sleeping Out: Full Moon They sleep within. . . . I cower to the earth, I waking, I only. High and cold thou dreamest, O queen, high-dreaming and lonely. We have slept too long, who can hardly win The white one flame, and the night-long crying; The viewless passers; the world’s low sighing With desire, with yearning, To the […]...
7. A Door just opened on a street A Door just opened on a street I lost was passing by An instant’s Width of Warmth disclosed And Wealth and Company. The Door as instant shut And I I lost was passing by Lost doubly but by contrast most Informing misery...
8. Sleeping Together Sleeping together… how tired you were… How warm our room… how the firelight spread On walls and ceiling and great white bed! We spoke in whispers as children do, And now it was I and then it was you Slept a moment, to wake “My dear, I’m not at all sleepy,” one of us said…. […]...
9. My Masters Of Poetry I’ve been accused, But much more often I have not; Oh, I have been so much amused By those who’ve put me on the spot, And measured me by rules above Those I observe with equal love. An artisan of verse am I, Of simple sense and humble tone; My Thesaurus is handy […]...
10. Storm Fear WHEN the wind works against us in the dark, And pelts with snow The lowest chamber window on the east, And whispers with a sort of stifled bark, The beast, ‘Come out! Come out!’ It costs no inward struggle not to go, Ah, no! I count our strength, Two and a child, Those of us […]...
11. 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, […]...
12. What the Sexton Said Your dust will be upon the wind Within some certain years, Though you be sealed in lead to-day Amid the country’s tears. When this idyllic churchyard Becomes the heart of town, The place to build garage or inn, They’ll throw your tombstone down. Your name so dim, so long outworn, Your bones so near to […]...
13. 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 […]...
14. To Plath, To Sexton So what use was poetry To a white empty house? Wolf, swan, hare, In by the fire. And when your tree Crashed through your house, What use then Was all your power? It was the use of you. It was the flower....
15. An Old Man To His Sleeping Young Bride As when the old moon lighted by the tender And radiant crescent of the new is seen, And for a moment’s space suggests the splendor Of what in its full prime it once has been, So on my waning years you cast the glory Of youth and pleasure, for a little hour; And life again […]...
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. Love Lies Sleeping Earliest morning, switching all the tracks That cross the sky from cinder star to star, coupling the ends of streets to trains of light. Now draw us into daylight in our beds; And clear away what presses on the brain: put out the neon shapes that float and swell and glare Down the gray avenue […]...
18. Outside Fargo, North Dakota Along the sprawled body of the derailed Great Northern freight car, I strike a match slowly and lift it slowly. No wind. Beyond town, three heavy white horses Wade all the way to their shoulders In a silo shadow. Suddenly the freight car lurches. The door slams back, a man with a flashlight Calls me […]...
19. 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, […]...
20. Down Home Down home to-night the moonshine falls Across a hill with daisies pied, The pear tree by the garden gate Beckons with white arms like a bride. A savor as of trampled fern Along the whispering meadow stirs, And, beacon of immortal love, A light is shining through the firs. To my old gable window creeps […]...
21. 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 […]...
22. Double Red Daisies Double red daisies, they’re my flowers, Which nobody else may grow. In a big quarrelsome house like ours They try it sometimes-but no, I root them up because they’re my flowers, Which nobody else may grow. Claire has a tea-rose, but she didn’t plant it; Ben has an iris, but I don’t want it. Daisies, […]...
23. Come slowly Eden! Come slowly Eden! Lips unused to Thee Bashful sip thy Jessamines As the fainting Bee Reaching late his flower, Round her chamber hums Counts his nectars Enters and is lost in Balms....
24. Sestina for Jim Cummins In Iowa, Jim dreamed that Della Street was Anne Sexton’s Twin. Dave drew a comic strip called the “Adventures of Whitman,” About a bearded beer-guzzler in Superman uniform. Donna dressed like Wallace Stevens In a seersucker summer suit. To town came Ted Berrigan, Saying, “My idea of a bad poet is Marvin […]...
25. Sleeping In The Forest I thought the earth remembered me, She took me back so tenderly, Arranging her dark skirts, her pockets Full of lichens and seeds. I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed, Nothing between me and the white fire of the stars But my thoughts, and they floated light as moths Among the […]...
26. Cupid Sleeping [Inscribed to Her Grace the Duchess of Devonshire.] CLOSE in a woodbine’s tangled shade, The BLOOMING GOD asleep was laid; His brows with mossy roses crown’d; His golden darts lay scatter’d round; To shade his auburn, curled head, A purple canopy was spread, Which gently with the breezes play’d, And shed around a soften’d shade. […]...
27. Sleeping at last Sleeping at last, the trouble and tumult over, Sleeping at last, the struggle and horror past, Cold and white, out of sight of friend and of lover, Sleeping at last. No more a tired heart downcast or overcast, No more pangs that wring or shifting fears that hover, Sleeping at last in a dreamless sleep […]...
28. Sleeping On The Ceiling It is so peaceful on the ceiling! It is the Place de la Concorde. The little crystal chandelier Is off, the fountain is in the dark. Not a soul is in the park. Below, where the wallpaper is peeling, The Jardin des Plantes has locked its gates. Those photographs are animals. The mighty flowers and […]...
29. For God While Sleeping Sleeping in fever, I am unfair To know just who you are: Hung up like a pig on exhibit, The delicate wrists, The beard drooling blood and vinegar; Hooked to your own weight, Jolting toward death under your nameplate. Everyone in this crowd needs a bath. I am dressed in rags. The mother wears blue. […]...
30. Last Night As I Was Sleeping Last night as I was sleeping, I dreamt-marvelous error!- That a spring was breaking Out in my heart. I said: Along which secret aqueduct, Oh water, are you coming to me, Water of a new life That I have never drunk? Last night as I was sleeping, I dreamt-marvelous error!- That I had a beehive […]...
31. Sleeping in Blue I lean into you, We bury down In the dunes The breeze holds Like a whisper You stroke my brown knees Your fingers Are my unspoken thoughts The silence is sensuous, Suffuses like Scent of sandalwood I watch The sea Your hands The waves Seep into my bones The sky descends We sleep in blue....
32. Historion No man hath dared to write this thing as yet, And yet I know, how that the souls of all men great At times pass athrough us, And we are melted into them, and are not Save reflexions of their souls. Thus am I Dante for a space and am One Francois Villon, ballad-lord and […]...
33. The Moon Versus Us Ever Sleeping Together Again I sit here, an arch-villain of romance, Thinking about you. Gee, I’m sorry I made you unhappy, but there was nothing I could do about it because I have to be free. Perhaps everything would have been different If you had stayed at the table or asked me To go out with you to look […]...
34. The Fury Of Flowers And Worms Let the flowers make a journey On Monday so that I can see Ten daisies in a blue vase With perhaps one red ant Crawling to the gold center. A bit of the field on my table, Close to the worms Who struggle blinding, Moving deep into their slime, Moving deep into God’s abdomen, Moving […]...
35. Briar Rose (Sleeping Beauty) Consider A girl who keeps slipping off, Arms limp as old carrots, Into the hypnotist’s trance, Into a spirit world Speaking with the gift of tongues. She is stuck in the time machine, Suddenly two years old sucking her thumb, As inward as a snail, Learning to talk again. She’s on a voyage. She is […]...
36. Song VIII: While Ye Deemed Him A-Sleeping Love is enough: while ye deemed him a-sleeping, There were signs of his coming and sounds of his feet; His touch it was that would bring you to weeping, When the summer was deepest and music most sweet: In his footsteps ye followed the day to its dying, Ye went forth by his gown-skirts the […]...
37. The Robin's my Criterion for Tune The Robin’s my Criterion for Tune Because I grow where Robins do But, were I Cuckoo born I’d swear by him The ode familiar rules the Noon The Buttercup’s, my Whim for Bloom Because, we’re Orchard sprung But, were I Britain born, I’d Daisies spurn None but the Nut October fit Because, through dropping it, […]...
38. 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....
39. REQUIESCAT Tread lightly, she is near Under the snow, Speak gently, she can hear The daisies grow. All her bright golden hair Tarnished with rust, She that was young and fair Fallen to dust. Lily-like, white as snow, She hardly knew She was a woman, so Sweetly she grew. Coffin-board, heavy stone, Lie on her breast, […]...
40. Daisies In the democracy of daisies Every blossom has one vote. The question on the ballot is Does he love me? If the answer’s wrong I try another, A little sorry about the petals Piling up around my shoes. Bees are loose in the fields Where daisies wait and hope, Dreaming of the kiss of a […]...