The Little Mute Boy

Related poetry:

1. Weeping Weeping, I go down the street Grotesque, without solution With the sadness of Cyrano And Quixote. Redeeming Infinite impossiblities With the rhythm of the clock. (The captive voice, far away. Put on a cricket’ clothes.)...
2. 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 loose the string And let them drop down on my knee to-night. This said,-he wished to have me in his sight Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring To come and touch […]...
3. Lawyer WHEN the jury files in to deliver a verdict after weeks of direct and cross examinations, hot clashes of lawyers and cool decisions of the judge, There are points of high silence-twiddling of thumbs is at an end-bailiffs near cuspidors take fresh chews of tobacco and wait-and the clock has a chance for its ticking […]...
4. Nature the Gentlest Mother is Nature the Gentlest Mother is, Impatient of no Child The feeblest or the waywardest Her Admonition mild In Forest and the Hill By Traveller be heard Restraining Rampant Squirrel Or too impetuous Bird How fair Her Conversation A Summer Afternoon Her Household Her Assembly And when the Sun go down Her Voice among the Aisles […]...
5. TO WILLIAM E. CHANNING The pages of thy book I read, And as I closed each one, My heart, responding, ever said, “Servant of God! well done!” Well done! Thy words are great and bold; At times they seem to me, Like Luther’s, in the days of old, Half-battles for the free. Go on, until this land revokes The […]...
6. Mute thy Coronation Mute thy Coronation Meek my Vive le roi, Fold a tiny courtier In thine Ermine, Sir, There to rest revering Till the pageant by, I can murmur broken, Master, It was I...
7. A first Mute Coming A first Mute Coming In the Stranger’s House A first fair Going When the Bells rejoice A first Exchange of What hath mingled been For Lot exhibited to Faith alone...
8. Mute Opinion I I traversed a dominion Whose spokesmen spake out strong Their purpose and opinion Through pulpit, press, and song. I scarce had means to note there A large-eyed few, and dumb, Who thought not as those thought there That stirred the heat and hum. II When, grown a Shade, beholding That land in lifetime trode, […]...
9. 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 to my desire, and hold the wind A voiceless captive to my conquering song. I need thee not, I am content with these: Keep silence in thy soul, beyond the seas! But in the desolate […]...
10. Infelice Walking swiftly with a dreadful duchess, He smiled too briefly, his face was pale as sand, He jumped into a taxi when he saw me coming, Leaving my alone with a private meaning, He loves me so much, my heart is singing. Later at the Club when I rang him in the evening They said: […]...
11. 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 away And my voice does not touch you It seems as though your eyes had flown away And it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth As all things are filled with my soul […]...
12. 'Twas later when the summer went ‘Twas later when the summer went Than when the Cricket came And yet we knew that gentle Clock Meant nought but Going Home ‘Twas sooner when the Cricket went Than when the Winter came Yet that pathetic Pendulum Keeps esoteric Time....
13. THE MAGIC NET Do I see a contest yonder? See I miracles or pastimes? Beauteous urchins, five in number, ‘Gainst five sisters fair contending, Measured is the time they’re beating At a bright enchantress’ bidding. Glitt’ring spears by some are wielded, Threads are others nimbly twining, So that in their snares, the weapons One would think, must needs […]...
14. Sonnet 04 – Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor, Most gracious singer of high poems! where The dancers will break footing, from the care Of watching up thy pregnant lips for more. And dost thou lift this house’s latch too poor For hand of thine? and canst thou think and bear To let thy music drop here […]...
15. 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 cooling trees, a voice will run From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead; That is the Grasshopper’s-he takes the lead In summer luxury,-he has never done With his delights; for when tired out with […]...
16. The Wedding Ring Dance I dance in circles holding The moth of the marriage, Thin, sticky, fluttering Its skirts, its webs. The moth oozing a tear, Or is it a drop of urine? The moth, grinning like a pear, Or is it teeth Clamping the iron maiden shut? The moth, Who is my mother, Who is my father, Who […]...
17. Do You Hear The Angel Speaking? Do you hear the angel speaking? Do you hear her heavenly voice? Do you hear the song she’s singing? Will you help her to rejoice? Do you hear her when you’re weary And find it hard to cope? Do you hear her inspiration and Her messages of hope? Do you hear her voice of wisdom… […]...
18. 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 been a church, The gentle play of shadow from the dawn clouds, And in us that smell of the dry straw That had seemed to be waiting for us From the moment the last sack, […]...
19. Each small gleam was a voice Each small gleam was a voice, A lantern voice In little songs of carmine, violet, green, gold. A chorus of colours came over the water; The wondrous leaf-shadow no longer wavered, No pines crooned on the hills, The blue night was elsewhere a silence, When the chorus of colours came over the water, Little songs […]...
20. Ebony Life A frightening stillness will mark that day And the shadow of streetlights and fire-alarms will exhaust the light All things, the quietest and the loudest, will be silent The suckling brats will die The tugboats the locomotives the wind will glide by in silence We will hear the great voice which coming from far away […]...
21. The Jay his Castanet has struck The Jay his Castanet has struck Put on your muff for Winter The Tippet that ignores his voice Is impudent to nature Of Swarthy Days he is the close His Lotus is a chestnut The Cricket drops a sable line No more from yours at present...
22. Sonnet 38 – First time he kissed me, he but only kissed First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And ever since, it grew more clean and white, Slow to world-greetings, quick with its ‘Oh, list,’ When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst I could not wear here, plainer to my sight, Than that first kiss. […]...
23. A Brook in the City The firm house lingers, though averse to square With the new city street it has to wear A number in. But what about the brook That held the house as in an elbow-crook? I ask as one who knew the brook, its strength And impulse, having dipped a finger length And made it leap my […]...
24. Lines Draw a line. Write a line. There. Stay in line, hold the line, a glance Between the lines is fine but don’t Turn corners, cross, cut in, go over Or out, between two points of no Return’s a line of flight, between Two points of view’s a line of vision. But a line of thought […]...
25. River Moons THE DOUBLE moon, one on the high back drop of the west, one on the curve of the river face, The sky moon of fire and the river moon of water, I am taking these home in a basket, hung on an elbow, such a teeny weeny elbow, in my head. I saw them last […]...
26. Who am I? My head knocks against the stars. My feet are on the hilltops. My finger-tips are in the valleys and shores of Universal life. Down in the sounding foam of primal things I Reach my hands and play with pebbles of Destiny. I have been to hell and back many times. I know all about heaven, […]...
27. Mill-Doors YOU never come back. I say good-by when I see you going in the doors, The hopeless open doors that call and wait And take you then for how many cents a day? How many cents for the sleepy eyes and fingers? I say good-by because I know they tap your wrists, In the dark, […]...
28. The Wicked Postman Why do you sit there on the floor so quiet and silent, tell me, Mother dear? The rain is coming in through the open window, making you all Wet, and you don’t mind it. Do you hear the gong striking four? It is time for my brother To come home from school. What has happened […]...
29. The Superseded I As newer comers crowd the fore, We drop behind. – We who have laboured long and sore Times out of mind, And keen are yet, must not regret To drop behind. II Yet there are of us some who grieve To go behind; Staunch, strenuous souls who scarce believe Their fires declined, And know […]...
30. Our Eyes Our eyes are limpid drops of water. In each drop exists a tiny sign of our genius Which has given life to cold iron. Our eyes are limpid drops of water Merged absolutely in the Ocean That you could hardly recognize the drop in a block of ice in a boiling pan. The masterpiece of […]...
31. Aaron Hatfield Better than granite, Spoon River, Is the memory-picture you keep of me Standing before the pioneer men and women There at Concord Church on Communion day. Speaking in broken voice of the peasant youth Of Galilee who went to the city And was killed by bankers and lawyers; My voice mingling with the June wind […]...
32. The Hour-glass That hour-glass which there you see With water fill’d, sirs, credit me, The humour was, as I have read, But lovers’ tears incrystalled. Which, as they drop by drop do pass From th’ upper to the under-glass, Do in a trickling manner tell, By many a watery syllable, That lovers’ tears in lifetime shed Do […]...
33. Sandpipers Sandland where the salt water kills the sweet potatoes. Homes for sandpipers-the script of their feet is on the sea shingles-they write in the morning, it is gone at noon-they write at noon, it is gone at night. Pity the land, the sea, the ten mile flats, pity anything but the sandpiper’s wire legs and […]...
34. The Deaf and Blind Do we reach the sea with clocks In our pockets, with the noise of the sea In the sea, or are we the carriers Of a purer and more silent water? The water rubbing against our hands sharpens knives. The warriors have found their weapons in the waves And the sound of their blows is […]...
35. Mud Soup 1. Had the ham bone, had the lentils, Got to meat store for the salt pork, Got to grocery for the celery. Had the onions, had the garlic, Borrowed carrots from the neighbor. Had the spices, had the parsley. One big kettle I had not got; Borrowed pot and lid from landlord. 2. Dice the […]...
36. 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 […]...
37. Grace My stock lies dead and no increase Doth my dull husbandry improve: O let thy graces without cease Drop from above! If still the sun should hide his face, Thy house would but a dungeon prove, Thy works, night’s captives: O let grace Drop from above! The dew doth ev’ry morning fall; And shall the […]...
38. Tonight I Can Write Tonight I can write the saddest lines. Write, for example, ‘The night is starry And the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’ The night wind revolves in the sky and sings. Tonight I can write the saddest lines. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. Through nights like this one I […]...
39. Poem 15 RIng ye the bels, ye yong men of the towne, And leaue your wonted labors for this day: This day is holy; doe ye write it dovvne, That ye for euer it remember may. This day the sunne is in his chiefest hight, With Barnaby the bright, >From whence declining daily by degrees, He somewhat […]...
40. Saddest Poem I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. Write, for instance: “The night is full of stars, And the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.” The night wind whirls in the sky and sings. I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too. On nights […]...