The Little Mute Boy
The litle boy was looking for his voice.
(The King of the crickets had it.)
In a drop of water
The little boy was looking for his voice.
I do not want it for speaking with;
I will make a ring of it
So that he may wear my silence
On his little finger.
In a drop of water
The little boy was looking for his voice.
(The captive voice, far away.
Put on a cricket’ clothes.)
Similar poems:
- Sonnet 28 – My letters! all dead paper, mute and white! My letters! all dead paper, mute and white! And yet they seem alive and quivering Against my tremulous hands which...
- Lawyer WHEN the jury files in to deliver a verdict after weeks of direct and cross examinations, hot clashes of lawyers...
- Mute Opinion I I traversed a dominion Whose spokesmen spake out strong Their purpose and opinion Through pulpit, press, and song. I...
- A Christmas Carol, Sung to the King in the Presence at White-Hall Chorus. What sweeter music can we bring, Than a Carol, for to sing The Birth of this our heavenly King?...
- The Poet’s Love-Song In noon-tide hours, O Love, secure and strong, I need thee not; mad dreams are mine to bind The world...
- An Adventure in the Life of King James V of Scotland On one occasion King James the Fifth of Scotland, when alone, in disguise, Near by the Bridge of Cramond met...
- The Men Who Wear My Clothes Sleepless I lay last night and watched the slow Procession of the men who wear my clothes: First, the grey...
- Anarchy I saw a city filled with lust and shame, Where men, like wolves, slunk through the grim half-light; And sudden,...
- I Like For You To Be Still I like for you to be still It is as though you are absent And you hear me from far...
- Clothes chapter X And the weaver said, “Speak to us of Clothes.” And he answered: Your clothes conceal much of your beauty, yet...
- The Wedding Ring Dance I dance in circles holding The moth of the marriage, Thin, sticky, fluttering Its skirts, its webs. The moth oozing...
- On The Grasshopper And Cricket The poetry of earth is never dead: When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, And hide in...
- The house where I was born (10) And then life; and once again A house where I was born. Around us The granary above what once had...
- San Francisco This poem was found written on a paper bag by Richard Brautigan in a laundromat in San Francisco. The author...
- If I Were King I often wish I were a King, And then I could do anything. If only I were King of Spain,...
- Ebony Life A frightening stillness will mark that day And the shadow of streetlights and fire-alarms will exhaust the light All things,...
- The Dragon-Fly Life (priest and poet say) is but a dream; I wish no happier one than to be laid Beneath a...
- The Negro Boy Paupertas onus visa est grave. Cold blows the wind, and while the tear Bursts trembling from my swollen eyes, The...
- The Scholars Would I could cast a sad on the water Where many a king has gone And many a king’s daughter,...
- Water If I were called in To construct a religion I should make use of water. Going to church Would entail...