The Way to know the Bobolink

Related poetry:

1. No Bobolink reverse His Singing No Bobolink reverse His Singing When the only Tree Ever He minded occupying By the Farmer be Clove to the Root His Spacious Future Best Horizon gone Whose Music be His Only Anodyne Brave Bobolink...
2. The Bobolink is gone The Bobolink is gone The Rowdy of the Meadow And no one swaggers now but me The Presbyterian Birds Can now resume the Meeting He boldly interrupted that overflowing Day When supplicating mercy In a portentous way He swung upon the Decalogue And shouted let us pray...
3. The red man says hello the red man says hello The green tree says i’m here All grown-ups are sleeping Only the children hear Decorations are delighted Presents hug the floor The room in its festive hat Hides behind the door Through the glittering day Two worlds split the one Grown-ups lose their tempers Children have the fun The red […]...
4. The most triumphant Bird I ever knew or met The most triumphant Bird I ever knew or met Embarked upon a twig today And till Dominion set I famish to behold so eminent a sight And sang for nothing scrutable But intimate Delight. Retired, and resumed his transitive Estate To what delicious Accident Does finest Glory fit!...
5. "Lethe" in my flower “Lethe” in my flower, Of which they who drink In the fadeless orchards Hear the bobolink! Merely flake or petal As the Eye beholds Jupiter! my father! I perceive the rose!...
6. Charlene-n-Booker 4ever And the old men, supervising grown grandsons, nephews, Any man a boy given this chance of making A new sidewalk outside the apartment building where Some of them live, three old men and their wives, The aging unmarrying children, and the child Who is a cousin, whose mother has sent her here Because she doesn’t […]...
7. The Little Boy and the Old Man Said the little boy, “Sometimes I drop my spoon.” Said the old man, “I do that too.” The little boy whispered, “I wet my pants.” “I do that too,” laughed the little old man. Said the little boy, “I often cry.” The old man nodded, “So do I.” “But worst of all,” said the boy, […]...
8. These are the Nights that Beetles love These are the Nights that Beetles love From Eminence remote Drives ponderous perpendicular His figure intimate The terror of the Children The merriment of men Depositing his Thunder He hoists abroad again A Bomb upon the Ceiling Is an improving thing It keeps the nerves progressive Conjecture flourishing Too dear the Summer evening Without discreet […]...
9. Cosmopolities without a plea Cosmopolities without a plea Alight in every Land The compliments of Paradise From those within my Hand Their dappled Journey to themselves A compensation fair Knock and it shall be opened Is their Theology...
10. The Wind took up the Northern Things The Wind took up the Northern Things And piled them in the south Then gave the East unto the West And opening his mouth The four Divisions of the Earth Did make as to devour While everything to corners slunk Behind the awful power The Wind unto his Chambers went And nature ventured out Her […]...
11. I keep my pledge I keep my pledge. I was not called Death did not notice me. I bring my Rose. I plight again, By every sainted Bee By Daisy called from hillside By Bobolink from lane. Blossom and I Her oath, and mine Will surely come again....
12. Child Development As sure as prehistoric fish grew legs And sauntered off the beaches into forests Working up some irregular verbs for their First conversation, so three-year-old children Enter the phase of name-calling. Every day a new one arrives and is added To the repertoire. You Dumb Goopyhead, You Big Sewerface, You Poop-on-the-Floor (a kind of Navaho […]...
13. The Mountain sat upon the Plain The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere The Seasons played around his knees Like Children round a sire Grandfather of the Days is He Of Dawn, the Ancestor...
14. "Nature" is what we see “Nature” is what we see The Hill the Afternoon Squirrel Eclipse the Bumble bee Nay Nature is Heaven Nature is what we hear The Bobolink the Sea Thunder the Cricket Nay Nature is Harmony Nature is what we know Yet have no art to say So impotent Our Wisdom is To her Simplicity....
15. It makes no difference abroad It makes no difference abroad The Seasons fit the same The Mornings blossom into Noons And split their Pods of Flame Wild flowers kindle in the Woods The Brooks slam all the Day No Black bird bates his Banjo For passing Calvary Auto da Fe and Judgment Are nothing to the Bee His separation from […]...
16. Some keep the Sabbath going to Church Some keep the Sabbath going to Church I keep it, staying at Home With a Bobolink for a Chorister And an Orchard, for a Dome Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice I just wear my Wings And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church, Our little Sexton sings. God preaches, a noted Clergyman And the […]...
17. The Gentian weaves her fringes The Gentian weaves her fringes The Maple’s loom is red My departing blossoms Obviate parade. A brief, but patient illness An hour to prepare, And one below this morning Is where the angels are It was a short procession, The Bobolink was there An aged Bee addressed us And then we knelt in prayer We […]...
18. The Surface It has a hole in it. Not only where I concentrate. The river still ribboning, twisting up, into its re- Arrangements, chill enlightenments, tight-knotted quickenings And loosenings whispered messages dissolving the messengers The river still glinting-up into its handfuls, heapings. glassy Forgettings under the river of My attention And the river of my attention laying […]...
19. All the letters I can write All the letters I can write Are not fair as this Syllables of Velvet Sentences of Plush, Depths of Ruby, undrained, Hid, Lip, for Thee Play it were a Humming Bird And just sipped me...
20. In Reference to Her Children I had eight birds hatched in one nest, Four cocks there were, and hens the rest. I nursed them up with pain and care, Nor cost, nor labour did I spare, Till at the last they felt their wing, Mounted the trees, and learned to sing; Chief of the brood then took his flight To […]...
21. LETTER FROM LEEDS Would ‘any woman’ find me difficult to live with? My tastes are simple: space for several thousand books, The smoke from my pipe stuffed with aromatic Balkan Sobranie, A leftover from the Sixties, frequent brief absences to fulfil My duties as a carer, unending phone calls And the unenviable reputation as England’s worst or best […]...
22. On Journeys Through The States ON journeys through the States we start, (Ay, through the world-urged by these songs, Sailing henceforth to every land-to every sea;) We, willing learners of all, teachers of all, and lovers of all. We have watch’d the seasons dispensing themselves, and passing on, We have said, Why should not a man or woman do as […]...
23. Had we our senses Had we our senses But perhaps ’tis well they’re not at Home So intimate with Madness He’s liable with them Had we the eyes without our Head How well that we are Blind We could not look upon the Earth So utterly unmoved...
24. The distance that the dead have gone The distance that the dead have gone Does not at first appear Their coming back seems possible For many an ardent year. And then, that we have followed them, We more than half suspect, So intimate have we become With their dear retrospect....
25. Parent's Pantoum for Maxine Kumin Where did these enormous children come from, More ladylike than we have ever been? Some of ours look older than we feel. How did they appear in their long dresses More ladylike than we have ever been? But they moan about their aging more than we do, In their fragile heels and […]...
26. In A Light Time The alder shudders in the April winds Off the moon. No one is awake and yet Sunlight streams across The hundred still beds Of the public wards For children. At ten Do we truly sleep In a blessed sleep Guarded by angels And social workers? Do we dream of gold Found in secret trunks In […]...
27. Wonder is not precisely Knowing Wonder is not precisely Knowing And not precisely Knowing not A beautiful but bleak condition He has not lived who has not felt Suspense is his maturer Sister Whether Adult Delight is Pain Or of itself a new misgiving This is the Gnat that mangles men...
28. Without a smile Without a Throe Without a smile Without a Throe A Summer’s soft Assemblies go To their entrancing end Unknown for all the times we met Estranged, however intimate What a dissembling Friend...
29. Heart, not so heavy as mine Heart, not so heavy as mine Wending late home As it passed my window Whistled itself a tune A careless snatch a ballad A ditty of the street Yet to my irritated Ear An Anodyne so sweet It was as if a Bobolink Sauntering this way Carolled, and paused, and carolled Then bubbled slow away! […]...
30. 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 […]...
31. The shakes now pay attention (said the teacher) And look up here The children looked up This is william shakespeare Four centuries up On a pedestal Was shakespeare’s head He was what we call A great man The children got sore necks Looking up And some began to look down No no You mustn’t look down (said […]...
32. Trust in the Unexpected Trust in the Unexpected By this was William Kidd Persuaded of the Buried Gold As One had testified Through this the old Philosopher His Talismanic Stone Discerned still withholden To effort undivine ‘Twas this allured Columbus When Genoa withdrew Before an Apparition Baptized America The Same afflicted Thomas When Deity assured ‘Twas better the perceiving […]...
33. He was my host he was my guest He was my host he was my guest, I never to this day If I invited him could tell, Or he invited me. So infinite our intercourse So intimate, indeed, Analysis as capsule seemed To keeper of the seed....
34. 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 […]...
35. 'Tis whiter than an Indian Pipe ‘Tis whiter than an Indian Pipe ‘Tis dimmer than a Lace No stature has it, like a Fog When you approach the place Nor any voice imply it here Or intimate it there A spirit how doth it accost What function hat the Air? This limitless Hyperbole Each one of us shall be ‘Tis Drama […]...
36. Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded Has sorrow thy young days shaded, As clouds o’er the morning fleet? Too fast have those young days faded That, even in sorrow, were sweet? Does Time with his cold wing wither Each feeling that once was dear? Then, child of misfortune, come hither, I’ll weep with thee, tear for tear. Has love to that […]...
37. Wash of Cold River Wash of cold river In a glacial land, Ionian water, Chill, snow-ribbed sand, Drift of rare flowers, Clear, with delicate shell – Like leaf enclosing Frozen lily-leaf, Camellia texture, Colder than a rose; Wind-flower That keeps the breath Of the north-wind These and none other; Intimate thoughts and kind Reach out to share The treasure […]...
38. Advance is Life's condition Advance is Life’s condition The Grave but a Relay Supposed to be a terminus That makes it hated so The Tunnel is not lighted Existence with a wall Is better we consider Than not exist at all...
39. All Circumstances are the Frame All Circumstances are the Frame In which His Face is set All Latitudes exist for His Sufficient Continent The Light His Action, and the Dark The Leisure of His Will In Him Existence serve or set A Force illegible....
40. Some Like Poetry Write it. Write. In ordinary ink On ordinary paper: they were given no food, They all died of hunger. “All. How many? It’s a big meadow. How much grass For each one?” Write: I don’t know. History counts its skeletons in round numbers. A thousand and one remains a thousand, As though the one had […]...