Saturday Paseo: Adelina

Related poetry:

1. Punch Song Four elements, joined in Harmonious strife, Shadow the world forth, And typify life. Into the goblet The lemon’s juice pour; Acid is ever Life’s innermost core. Now, with the sugar’s All-softening juice, The strength of the acid So burning reduce. The bright sparkling water Now pour in the bowl; Water all-gently Encircles the whole. Let […]...
2. Arbolй, Arbolй Tree, tree Dry and green. The girl with the pretty face Is out picking olives. The wind, playboy of towers, Grabs her around the waist. Four riders passed by On Andalusian ponies, With blue and green jackets And big, dark capes. “Come to Cordoba, muchacha.” The girl won’t listen to them. Three young bullfighters passed, […]...
3. Saturday Morning Everyone who made love the night before Was walking around with flashing red lights On top of their heads-a white-haired old gentlemen, A red-faced schoolboy, a pregnant woman Who smiled at me from across the street And gave a little secret shrug, As if the flashing red light on her head Was a small price […]...
4. Sonnet XIV: Alas, Have I Not Alas, have I not pain enough, my friend, Upon whose breast a fiercer gripe doth tire, Than did on him who first stole down the fire, While Love on me doth all his quiver spend, But with your rhubarb words you must contend, To grieve me worse, in saying that desire Doth plunge my well-form’d […]...
5. Conversation with Jeanne Let us not talk philosophy, drop it, Jeanne. So many words, so much paper, who can stand it. I told you the truth about my distancing myself. I’ve stopped worrying about my misshapen life. It was no better and no worse than the usual human tragedies. For over thirty years we have been waging our […]...
6. "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 […]...
7. Ode To a Lemon Out of lemon flowers Loosed On the moonlight, love’s Lashed and insatiable Essences, Sodden with fragrance, The lemon tree’s yellow Emerges, The lemons Move down From the tree’s planetarium Delicate merchandise! The harbors are big with it- Bazaars For the light and the Barbarous gold. We open The halves Of a miracle, And a clotting […]...
8. Words Be careful of words, Even the miraculous ones. For the miraculous we do our best, Sometimes they swarm like insects And leave not a sting but a kiss. They can be as good as fingers. They can be as trusty as the rock You stick your bottom on. But they can be both daisies and […]...
9. 83. The Cotter's Saturday Night MY lov’d, my honour’d, much respected friend! No mercenary bard his homage pays; With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end, My dearest meed, a friend’s esteem and praise: To you I sing, in simple Scottish lays, The lowly train in life’s sequester’d scene, The native feelings strong, the guileless ways, What Aiken in a […]...
10. Saturday At The Canal I was hoping to be happy by seventeen. School was a sharp check mark in the roll book, An obnoxious tuba playing at noon because our team Was going to win at night. The teachers were Too close to dying to understand. The hallways Stank of poor grades and unwashed hair. Thus, A friend and […]...
11. Saturday's Child Some are teethed on a silver spoon, With the stars strung for a rattle; I cut my teeth as the black racoon For implements of battle. Some are swaddled in silk and down, And heralded by a star; They swathed my limbs in a sackcloth gown On a night that was black as tar. For […]...
12. 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 […]...
13. Three Oranges first time my father overheard me listening to This bit of music he asked me, “what is it?” “it’s called Love For Three Oranges,” I informed him. “boy,” he said, “that’s getting it Cheap.” He meant sex. Listening to it I always imagined three oranges Sitting there, You know how orange they can Get, So […]...
14. Saturday Night in the Parthenon Tiny green birds skate over the surface of the room. A naked girl prepares a basin with steaming water, And in the corner away from the hearth, the red wheels Of an up-ended chariot slowly turn. After a long moment, the door to the other world opens And the golden figure of a man appears. […]...
15. Love Let me but love my love without disguise, Nor wear a mask of fashion old or new, Nor wait to speak till I can hear a clue, Nor play a part to shine in others’ eyes, Nor bow my knees to what my heart denies; But what I am, to that let me be true, […]...
16. Yeats Died Saturday In France Yeats died Saturday in France. Freedom from his animal Has come at last in alien Nice, His heart beat separate from his will: He knows at last the old abyss Which always faced his staring face. No ability, no dignity Can fail him now who trained so long For the outrage of eternity, Teaching his […]...
17. Ode To The Lemon From blossoms Released By the moonlight, From an Aroma of exasperated Love, Steeped in fragrance, Yellowness Drifted from the lemon tree, And from its plantarium Lemons descended to the earth. Tender yield! The coasts, The markets glowed With light, with Unrefined gold; We opened Two halves Of a miracle, Congealed acid Trickled From the hemispheres […]...
18. An Evangelist's Wife “Why am I not myself these many days, You ask? And have you nothing more to ask? I do you wrong? I do not hear your praise To God for giving you me to share your task? “Jealous-of Her? Because her cheeks are pink, And she has eyes? No, not if she had seven. If […]...
19. Provisions What should we have taken With us? We never could decide On that; or what to wear, Or at what time of Year we should make the journey So here we are in thin Raincoats and rubber boots On the disastrous ice, the wind rising Nothing in our pockets But a pencil stub, two oranges […]...
20. The Frog Comes to mind as another small upheaval Amongst the rubble. His eye matches exactly the bubble In my spirit-level. I set aside hammer and chisel And take him on the trowel. The entire population of Ireland Springs from a pair left to stand Overnight in a pond In the gardens of Trinity College, Two bottle […]...
21. Talisman it is written The act of writing is Holy words are Sacred and your breath Brings out the God in them I write these words Quickly repeat them Softly to myself This talisman for you Fold this prayer Around your neck fortify Your back with these Whispers May you walk ever Loved and in love […]...
22. Modesties Words as plain as hen-birds’ wings Do not lie, Do not over-broider things – Are too shy. Thoughts that shuffle round like pence Through each reign, Wear down to their simplest sense Yet remain. Weeds are not supposed to grow But by degrees Some achieve a flower, although No one sees....
23. Detroit Grease Shop Poem Four bright steel crosses, Universal joints, plucked Out of the burlap sack “the heart of the drive train,” The book says. Stars On Lemon’s wooden palm, Stars that must be capped, Rolled, and anointed, That have their orders And their commands as he Has his. Under the blue Hesitant light another day At Automotive In […]...
24. Sonnet 76: Why is my verse so barren of new pride? Why is my verse so barren of new pride? So far from variation or quick change? Why with the time do I not glance aside To new-found methods, and to compounds strange? Why write I still all one, ever the same, And keep invention in a noted weed, That every word doth almost tell my […]...
25. Hymn 78 The strength of Christ’s love. SS 8:5-7,13,14. [Who is this fair one in distress, That travels from the wilderness? And pressed with sorrows and with sins, On her beloved Lord she leans. This is the spouse of Christ our God, Bought with the treasure of his blood; And her request and her complaint Is but […]...
26. 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, […]...
27. The Rat Of Faith A blue jay poses on a stake Meant to support an apple tree Newly planted. A strong wind On this clear cold morning Barely ruffles his tail feathers. When he turns his attention Toward me, I face his eyes Without blinking. A week ago My wife called me to come see This same bird chase […]...
28. My Indian In-laws I remember India: Palm trees, monkey families, Fresh lime juice in the streets, The sensual inundation Of sights and smells And excess in everything. I was exotic and believable there. I was walking through dirt In my sari, To temples of the deities Following the lead Of my Indian in-laws. I was scooping up fire […]...
29. Landscapes Behind faces and gestures We remain mute And spoken words heavy With what we ignore or keep silent Betray us I dare not speak for mankind I know so little of myself But the Landscape I see as a reflection Is also a lie stealing into My words I speak without remorse Of this image […]...
30. October Ay, thou art welcome, heaven’s delicious breath! When woods begin to wear the crimson leaf, And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief And the year smiles as it draws near its death. Wind of the sunny south! oh, still delay In the gay woods and in the golden air, Like to a […]...
31. Sonnet 103: Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth Alack, what poverty my Muse brings forth, That having such a scope to show her pride, The argument all bare is of more worth Than when it hath my added praise beside. O, blame me not if I no more can write! Look in your glass, and there appears a face That overgoes my blunt […]...
32. LOVE'S DISTRESSES WHO will hear me? Whom shall I lament to? Who would pity me that heard my sorrows? Ah, the lip that erst so many raptures Used to taste, and used to give responsive, Now is cloven, and it pains me sorely; And it is not thus severely wounded By my mistress having caught me fiercely, […]...
33. Pastoral The little sparrows Hop ingenuously About the pavement Quarreling With sharp voices Over those things That interest them. But we who are wiser Shut ourselves in On either hand And no one knows Whether we think good Or evil. Meanwhile, The old man who goes about Gathering dog-lime Walks in the gutter Without looking up […]...
34. Lobster For Lunch His face was like a lobster red, His legs were white as mayonnaise: “I’ve had a jolly lunch,” he said, That Englishman of pleasant ways. “Thy do us well at our hotel: In England food is dull these days.” “We had a big langouste for lunch. I almost ate the whole of it. And now […]...
35. My Dear Mistress Has a Heart My dear mistress has a heart Soft as those kind looks she gave me, When with love’s resistless art, And her eyes, she did enslave me; But her constancy’s so weak, She’s so wild and apt to wander, That my jealous heart would break Should we live one day asunder. Melting joys about her move, […]...
36. In The Vaulted Way In the vaulted way, where the passage turned To the shadowy corner that none could see, You paused for our parting, – plaintively: Though overnight had come words that burned My fond frail happiness out of me. And then I kissed you, – despite my thought That our spell must end when reflection came On […]...
37. In The Seven Woods I have heard the pigeons of the Seven Woods Make their faint thunder, and the garden bees Hum in the lime-tree flowers; and put away The unavailing outcries and the old bitterness That empty the heart. I have forgot awhile Tara uprooted, and new commonness Upon the throne and crying about the streets And hanging […]...
38. Hymn 140 A living and a dead faith. Collected from several scriptures. Mistaken souls, that dream of heav’n, And make their empty boast Of inward joys, and sins forgiv’n, While they are slaves to lust! Vain are our fancies, airy flights, If faith be cold and dead; None but a living power unites To Christ the living […]...
39. Sonnet 85: My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still, While comments of your praise, richly compiled, Reserve their character with golden quill, And precious phrase by all the Muses filed. I think good thoughts, whilst other write good words, And like unlettered clerk still cry “Amen” To every hymn that able spirit affords In polished form […]...
40. Sonnet LXXXV My tongue-tied Muse in manners holds her still, While comments of your praise, richly compiled, Reserve their character with golden quill And precious phrase by all the Muses filed. I think good thoughts whilst other write good words, And like unletter’d clerk still cry ‘Amen’ To every hymn that able spirit affords In polish’d form […]...