They shut me up in Prose

Related poetry:

1. Why do they shut Me out of Heaven? Why do they shut Me out of Heaven? Did I sing too loud? But I can say a little “Minor” Timid as a Bird! Wouldn’t the Angels try me Just once more Just see if I troubled them But don’t shut the door! Oh, if I were the Gentleman In the “White Robe” And they […]...
2. The shut-eye train Come, my little one, with me! There are wondrous sights to see As the evening shadows fall; In your pretty cap and gown, Don’t detain The Shut-Eye train – “Ting-a-ling!” the bell it goeth, “Toot-toot!” the whistle bloweth, And we hear the warning call: “All aboard for Shut-Eye Town!” Over hill and over plain Soon […]...
3. To Daisies, Not To Shut So Soon Shut not so soon; the dull-eyed night Has not as yet begun To make a seizure on the light, Or to seal up the sun. No marigolds yet closed are; No shadows great appear; Nor doth the early shepherds’ star Shine like a spangle here. Stay but till my Julia close Her life-begetting eye, And […]...
4. The Brain is wider than the Sky The Brain is wider than the Sky For put them side by side The one the other will contain With ease and You beside The Brain is deeper than the sea For hold them Blue to Blue The one the other will absorb As Sponges Buckets do The Brain is just the weight of God […]...
5. 'Tis true They shut me in the Cold ‘Tis true They shut me in the Cold But then Themselves were warm And could not know the feeling ’twas Forget it Lord of Them Let not my Witness hinder Them In Heavenly esteem No Paradise could be Conferred Through Their beloved Blame The Harm They did was short And since Myself who bore it […]...
6. The House Of Dust: Part 03: 13: The half-shut doors through which we heard that music The half-shut doors through which we heard that music Are softly closed. Horns mutter down to silence. The stars whirl out, the night grows deep. Darkness settles upon us. A vague refrain Drowsily teases at the drowsy brain. In numberless rooms we stretch ourselves and sleep. Where have we been? What savage chaos of music […]...
7. Shut Not Your Doors, &c SHUT not your doors to me, proud libraries, For that which was lacking on all your well-fill’d shelves, yet needed most, I bring; Forth from the army, the war emerging-a book I have made, The words of my book nothing-the drift of it everything; A book separate, not link’d with the rest, nor felt by […]...
8. This is a Blossom of the Brain This is a Blossom of the Brain A small italic Seed Lodged by Design or Happening The Spirit fructified Shy as the Wind of his Chambers Swift as a Freshet’s Tongue So of the Flower of the Soul Its process is unknown. When it is found, a few rejoice The Wise convey it Home Carefully […]...
9. Without this there is nought Without this there is nought All other Riches be As is the Twitter of a Bird Heard opposite the Sea I could not care to gain A lesser than the Whole For did not this include themself As Seams include the Ball? I wished a way might be My Heart to subdivide ‘Twould magnify the […]...
10. Poem in Prose This poem is for my wife. I have made it plainly and honestly: The mark is on it Like the burl on the knife. I have not made it for praise. She has no more need for praise Than summer has Or the bright days. In all that becomes a woman Her words and her […]...
11. It Is March It is March and black dust falls out of the books Soon I will be gone The tall spirit who lodged here has Left already On the avenues the colorless thread lies under Old prices When you look back there is always the past Even when it has vanished But when you look forward With […]...
12. Because You Asked About The Line Between Prose And Poetry Sparrows were feeding in a freezing drizzle That while you watched turned into pieces of snow Riding a gradient invisible From silver aslant to random, white, and slow. There came a moment that you couldn’t tell. And then they clearly flew instead of fell....
13. The Treason of an accent The Treason of an accent Might Ecstasy transfer Of her effacing Fathom Is no Recoverer The Treason of an Accent Might vilify the Joy To breathe corrode the rapture Of Sanctity to be...
14. Solomon To Sheba Sang Solomon to Sheba, And kissed her dusky face, ‘All day long from mid-day We have talked in the one place, All day long from shadowless noon We have gone round and round In the narrow theme of love Like a old horse in a pound.’ To Solomon sang Sheba, Plated on his knees, ‘If […]...
15. Half-Ballad of Waterval (Non-commissioned Officers in Charge of Prisoners) When by the labor of my ‘ands I’ve ‘elped to pack a transport tight With prisoners for foreign lands, I ain’t transported with delight. I know it’s only just an’ right, But yet it somehow sickens me, For I ‘ave learned at Waterval The meanin’ of captivity. Be’ind the […]...
16. Shut Up And Eat Your Toad The disorganization to which I currently belong Has skipped several meetings in a row Which is a pattern I find almost fatally attractive. Down at headquarters there’s a secretary And a janitor who I shall call Suzie And boy can she ever shoot straight. She’ll shoot you straight in the eye if you ask her […]...
17. Marksman Sam When Sam Small joined the regiment, ‘E were no’ but a raw recruit, And they marched ‘im away one wint’ry day, ‘Is musket course to shoot. They woke ‘im up at the crack o’ dawn, Wi’ many a nudge and shake, ‘E were dreaming that t’ Sergeant ‘ad broke ‘is neck, And ‘e didn’t want […]...
18. Self-Made Man A hundred people I employed, But when they struck for higher pay, I was so damnably annoyed I told them they could stay away. I simply shut my business down; I closed my doors and locked them out, And now you’ll find all round the town A lot of idle men about. Of course I […]...
19. Is it dead Find it Is it dead Find it Out of sound Out of sight “Happy”? Which is wiser You, or the Wind? “Conscious”? Won’t you ask that Of the low Ground? “Homesick”? Many met it Even through them This Cannot testify Themself as dumb...
20. Farewell To Verse In youth when oft my muse was dumb, My fancy nighly dead, To make my inspiration come I stood upon my head; And thus I let the blood down flow Into my cerebellum, And published every Spring or so Slim tomes in vellum. Alas! I am rheumatic now, Grey is my crown; I can no […]...
21. I felt my life with both my hands I felt my life with both my hands To see if it was there I held my spirit to the Glass, To prove it possibler I turned my Being round and round And paused at every pound To ask the Owner’s name For doubt, that I should know the Sound I judged my features jarred […]...
22. TO SIR CLIPSBY CREW Since to the country first I came, I have lost my former flame; And, methinks, I not inherit, As I did, my ravish’d spirit. If I write a verse or two, ‘Tis with very much ado; In regard I want that wine Which should conjure up a line. Yet, though now of Muse bereft, I […]...
23. 'Twas just this time, last year, I died ‘Twas just this time, last year, I died. I know I heard the Corn, When I was carried by the Farms It had the Tassels on I thought how yellow it would look When Richard went to mill And then, I wanted to get out, But something held my will. I thought just how Red […]...
24. I have a King, who does not speak I have a King, who does not speak So wondering thro’ the hours meek I trudge the day away Half glad when it is night, and sleep, If, haply, thro’ a dream, to peep In parlors, shut by day. And if I do when morning comes It is as if a hundred drums Did round […]...
25. The Months have ends the Years a knot The Months have ends the Years a knot No Power can untie To stretch a little further A Skein of Misery The Earth lays back these tired lives In her mysterious Drawers Too tenderly, that any doubt An ultimate Repose The manner of the Children Who weary of the Day Themself the noisy Plaything They […]...
26. The Wonderer I wish that I could understand The moving marvel of my Hand; I watch my fingers turn and twist, The supple bending of my wrist, The dainty touch of finger-tip, The steel intensity of grip; A tool of exquisite design, With pride I think: “It’s mine! It’s mine!” Then there’s the wonder of my Eyes, […]...
27. Advice to the Grub Street Verse-writers Ye poets ragged and forlorn, Down from your garrets haste; Ye rhymers, dead as soon as born, Not yet consign’d to paste; I know a trick to make you thrive; O, ’tis a quaint device: Your still-born poems shall revive, And scorn to wrap up spice. Get all your verses printed fair, Then let them […]...
28. 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...
29. I died for Beauty but was scarce I died for Beauty but was scarce Adjusted in the Tomb When One who died for Truth, was lain In an adjoining room He questioned softly “Why I failed”? “For Beauty”, I replied “And I for Truth Themself are One We Brethren, are”, He said And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night We talked between […]...
30. Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
31. My Star All that I know Of a certain star, Is, it can throw (Like the angled spar) Now a dart of red, Now a dart of blue, Till my friends have said They would fain see, too, My star that dartles the red and the blue! Then it stops like a bird,-like a flower, hangs furled, […]...
32. 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 […]...
33. Obsessive Combination Of Onotological Inscape, Trickery And Love Busy, with an idea for a code, I write Signals hurrying from left to right, Or right to left, by obscure routes, For my own reasons; taking a word like writes Down tiers of tries until its secret rites Make sense; or until, suddenly, RATS Can amazingly and funnily become STAR And right to left […]...
34. This country nurtured hope This country nurtured hope decayed, The politician cruises on a 4WD guzzler, The thief. Feeling the base of his belly. There is a slum in my heart But I cannot relocate it to my foot Nor hand nor back Its rusted tin makeshifts make my blood flow slow. War has filled my heart with bullets, […]...
35. Horse Fiddle FIRST I would like to write for you a poem to be shouted in the teeth of a strong wind. Next I would like to write one for you to sit on a hill and read down the river valley on a late summer afternoon, reading it in less than a whisper to Jack on […]...
36. Star of the east Star of the East, that long ago Brought wise men on their way Where, angels singing to and fro, The Child of Bethlehem lay Above that Syrian hill afar Thou shinest out to-night, O Star! Star of the East, the night were drear But for the tender grace That with thy glory comes to cheer […]...
37. When the new year when the new year Came out of nowhere And peeped into rooms It was so flattered to find All the tv’s drinking its health Praising its innocent appearance It responded with its warm Dark smile and went round Filling people’s dry hearts With joy Over the coming weeks though Those same tv’s attacked it Criticising […]...
38. God In his malodorous brain what slugs and mire, Lanthorned in his oblique eyes, guttering burned! His body lodged a rat where men nursed souls. The world flashed grape-green eyes of a foiled cat To him. On fragments of an old shrunk power, On shy and maimed, on women wrung awry, He lay, a bullying hulk, […]...
39. Song by the Window Before Bed Little Star, little Star, Come down quick. The Moon is a bogey-man; He’ll eat you certain if he can. Little Star, little Star, Come down quick! Little Star, little Star, Whisper “Yes.” The trees are just niggers all, They look so black, the are so tall. Little Star, little Star, Whisper “Yes” Little Star, little […]...
40. No Rack can torture me No Rack can torture me My Soul at Liberty Behind this mortal Bone There knits a bolder One You cannot prick with saw Nor pierce with Scimitar Two Bodies therefore be Bind One The Other fly The Eagle of his Nest No easier divest And gain the Sky Than mayest Thou Except Thyself may be […]...